The Storm King

Basina and Theuderic stared at Leon in disbelief, Leon having just wrapped up an abbreviated report of what had happened after Sigebert’s fleet separated from the other two on the third island.

They were in the Earl’s manor on the fifth island. The town surrounding it had less than five thousand residents, and the manor itself wasn’t huge, so the Legion fleets were having some trouble finding places to dock. Legion engineers were swarming over the cliffs along the shore, building additional stone docks for the fleet to use, but the remnants of Sigebert’s fleet had little trouble finding space. They were just so few, now.

Once they’d docked at the fifth island, Leon and the rest of the fleet’s remaining command staff made their way to the manor to make their reports. Leon’s retinue was with him until the meeting started, when only Maia was allowed to stay at his side. The Legate in charge of the sole remaining dreadnought of Sigebert’s fleet was there as well, along with several of the Tribunes who captained the fleet’s war galleys.

All of them backed up Leon’s story, leaving little room for Basina and Theuderic to disbelieve Leon’s story, even though Leon could see they very much wanted to. Their faces were stony by the nature of being older commanders who’d been in the Legion for decades apiece, but there were a few twitches here and there that Leon could pick out, putting their inner thoughts on display.

Leon had just dumped a lot on their plates, and their first instincts were clearly to wrack their brains in an attempt to either downplay or toss out Leon’s report.

To an extent, he didn’t blame them—he would doubt such a story, too, if he hadn’t lived through it. A pirate trying to raise an ancient god was much less believable than a fallen Islander noble fighting for the emancipation of his people from the Bull Kingdom, and much harder to deal with.

But it had been dealt with, so Leon had, perhaps foolishly, gone into the meeting hall somewhat optimistic that neither of the Fleet Legates would have that much to complain about. He’d even been low-key looking forward to looking them in the eye and telling them, with the rest of Sigebert’s remaining command staff there to back him up, that he’d been right all along.

That they were so obviously trying to figure out a way to not believe him was throwing a bit of a cobra into his horse race, so to speak.

“That’s… quite the story,” Basina eventually said after an uncomfortably long silence, looking surprisingly tired as she slumped back into her chair and pressed her fingers into her eyes, rubbing them vigorously before leaning forward and staring at Leon. “Are you sure it’s accurate?”

A flash of anger tore through Leon, and he had to fight the urge to sneer. His patience for this was practically nonexistent after everything that had happened over the past week. They hadn’t believed him before, and as a result, he’d only had one fleet at his back when he’d gone to stop Jormun.

“Yes, I’m sure it’s accurate,” Leon said through gritted teeth. It was a struggle not to release any killing intent, but he felt like his attitude was made clear, for Basina’s eyes narrowed in displeasure.

“Whatever the case,” the Legate from Sigebert’s last dreadnought interjected, “Sir Sigebert is dead, and the fleet is ravaged. We killed the man responsible for it and confirmed Prince Octavius’ death at his hands. Our mission is complete, and we’re ready to return to the Kingdom. There’s not much else for us to do here with so few of us left, anyway.”

“There’s still plenty for you to do,” Basina disagreed. “These Isles aren’t as stable as I would like, and having a few extra ships and a pair of seventh-tier mages around to help pick up the slack would—”

“We don’t answer to you, with respect,” Leon growled, his annoyance growing even further. They still thought that he was a seventh-tier mage, and he’d lied to them all about Maia’s power level, but that hardly mattered. If he’d been honest, maybe Basina wouldn’t be so shameless as to be trying to coerce him into helping with her mission, but he wasn’t in an honest mood.

“With respect, I’m still the commander of this task force, and I won’t have insubordination!” Basina replied, her voice starting to harden in the face of Leon’s challenge. “I maintain strict discipline within my ranks!”

Leon stared back at her, debating with himself over what he should say to communicate his intentions as clearly as he could. He wasn’t a knight anymore, and his patience for these games had run out. Now, however, Basina was staring at him like he was just a tool to her, or lower. Like he owed her his service and obedience. Like he was privileged just to be there.

The thing that struck Leon as most strange, though, was the fact that Basina wasn’t from a noble family. She was a knight, and so was noble by appointment, but she was common-born, so he didn’t know where this was coming from. Maybe she thought that since he was just a mercenary, technically speaking, that she could order him around. Or maybe she was just letting her power go to her head.

But he wasn’t having it. She didn’t believe him, and he had no obligations to her. He’d accomplished the mission that he’d been tasked with as best as he was able—he couldn’t bring Octavius back, as the King had requested, but he’d confirmed the Prince’s death and revenged the Kingdom upon the Prince’s killer. He was under no further obligations to this task force.

He quickly realized that he wasn’t in the mood for fancy words.

“Fuck off, I don’t need this,” he growled as he stood. Basina’s face contorted in surprise and rapidly-growing anger, but a threatening glare and a hint of killing intent from Leon had her frozen in her seat, the look slowly vanishing from her face.

Without another word, Leon turned around and left, with Maia right behind him. He left the rest of the room sitting in stunned silence.

Once on the other side, Leon paused as the rest of his retinue rose to greet him and took a deep, cleansing breath. As far as he was concerned, the Legion could believe whatever the hells it wanted to, he was done with whatever politicking their higher-ups were involved in. Whatever the reason for Basina’s refusal to believe him, he was done with her.

“What’s going on?” Marcus asked as he, Alcander, and Alix joined Leon and Maia by the door.

“We’re done with these fucking people,” Leon said, the scorn and derision in his voice not even slightly hidden. “Come on, let’s head back to the ship.”

“Uh, right…?” Marcus said as he and the others fell in behind Leon.

Leon confidently strode out of the Earl’s manor feeling like he’d just lost a huge amount of weight. It was much the same feeling he’d felt after resigning from the Legion following the civil war, and this time, he knew that there would be no returning to the fold. He wasn’t just done with Basina, he was done with all of the Legion. He’d give the King his report personally, but beyond that, he was done with the Kingdom as a whole, even if he and Elise decided to stick around in the capital for a little while longer. It would take nothing short of another Primal God rising from its prison to threaten the Kingdom for him to lift a finger in their aid.

“Make sure you’re packed and ready to leave on a moment’s notice,” Leon said as they exited the manor. “I might have crushed a few toes in there, and we might not be entirely welcome on that ship anymore. Hells, they might not even be sending that ship back to the Kingdom, either, in which case we’ll need to find another way back.”

“I have so many questions…” Marcus grumbled, but he asked none of them and Leon didn’t give any answers of his own accord.

Alix, however, had more important questions of her own. “If we’re not going home with the Legion, how are we to cross the ocean?”

Leon shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. The Islanders are a sea-faring people, there have to be some around who can give us a ride back east. If not, there’s always the possibility that we can just steal a Legion ship.”

“That would be dangerous,” Alix pointed out, though her tone didn’t suggest that she was against the idea.

“Not for us,” Leon nonchalantly replied. “I doubt they’ll seriously pursue, and even if they did, we have our ways of outpacing them…” He gave a meaningful look to Maia, silently asking her if she could do as Jormun had done and speed up any ship they took if the need arose. Just as silently, she nodded her confirmation that she could.

That was all Leon needed to know. Still, he didn’t take any ride home on a Legion ship for granted, and as they walked through the tightly-packed, unpaved streets of the town, surrounded by short two or three-story buildings painted in various pastel colors, his magic senses drifted from the Legion ships to the civilian sectors of the harbor, looking for ships that seemed promising. Naturally, the Legion was dominating all available dock space, but that didn’t mean that there were no civilian ships at all to find. In fact, it was quite the opposite, for the fifth island had little in the way of agriculture, and survived almost entirely on fishing and trading in jungle wood.

This meant that even with the Legion fleets here, there were still quite a few civilian ships around, too. Even if there weren’t any that could reach the mainland, there had to be at least a couple that could reach Kraterok. If Leon had to, he’d island-hop all the way back to the Bull Kingdom.

‘Hells, if I have to, I’ll build a whole lot of flight suits and we can just go back that way,’ he cynically thought, though he didn’t seriously think that he and his weaker comrades would be able to make that journey.

Once they reached the harbor, he started looking around as they picked their way toward their dreadnought. For the most part, he only saw Legion marines and sailors going about their business of occupying the town and expanding the docks to accommodate more Legion ships, but he also saw a fair number of what looked like Islander sailors and fisherman around, too, though most of them were stuck arguing with Legion personnel regarding dock space, from what Leon could tell.

However, as they drew closer to the dreadnought, he saw someone that he’d almost entirely forgotten about after his interrogation—Leon had actually thought that Sigebert hadn’t released him yet, and that he’d thusly died on Sigebert’s flagship when Jormun as the Great Horned Serpent had destroyed it.

He saw a dark-skinned man wearing off-white robes made of fine material and a golden overcoat decorated with bright pink and red flowers engaged in a heated argument with an Islander who looked like a ship captain. At the dark-skinned man’s waist was a large, ornate, curved sword, and tucked beneath one arm was a conical helmet intricately decorated with geometric patterns.

Anshu Bodhi Rahulani, the fifth-tier pirate from the Indra Raj that he’d captured during the battle on the fourth island.

Leon stopped, almost causing Maia to run into him from behind.

[What is it?] she asked, her question echoed by Alix and Marcus as they almost ran into Maia, in turn.

“Over there,” Leon said, nodding in Anshu’s direction. “Meet me on the ship, I think I want to go talk to him.”

“You sure about that?” Marcus asked as he gave Leon a slightly reproachful look. “Going around without an escort isn’t nearly as impressive as going with one…”

“It’s more important for all of you to get packed,” Leon replied.

“What are we going to pack?” Alcander asked, his tone light and sarcastic. “All of our stuff went down with Sigebert’s ship!”

Leon frowned, but he sent them off anyway. At the very least, they had a few changes of clothes given to them by the Legion, and Anzu had to be prepared to be moved, and he wanted everyone ready to leave the dreadnought immediately. He thought it so likely that they’d have to contact a civilian ship that he wasn’t even waiting around for the Legion to maybe apologize to them and give them a lift back east. Once his retinue was off heading back to the dreadnought, he started picking his way through the crowded docks toward Anshu.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say to the man, but Leon wanted to talk to him anyway. Anshu was a man from the other side of the plane, and as a former pirate, Leon guessed he was fairly well-traveled. He was also a fifth-tier mage, to boot—hardly that powerful compared to Leon or Maia at this point, but by the standards of the plane, he was still a strong mage who could find lucrative employment just about anywhere he went.

And Leon wanted to offer him lucrative employment. He needed men and women who knew the plane, and he needed people who could help and advise him on his journey to the Central Empires. He wasn’t sure if he could specifically trust Anshu given his piratical activities and some of the personal beliefs he’d shared during the interrogation, but those aside, he’d seemed to Leon to be a man of certain honor and conviction. He clearly hadn’t enjoyed his time as a pirate and had joined Jormun in return for some unspecified favor that the pirate had rendered him, possibly regarding his exile from the Indra Raj.

As he got closer, Leon was able to overhear Anshu’s argument with the ship captain, and he slowed down to listen in a bit. It sounded like Anshu was trying to barter his way onto the man’s ship, but the captain wasn’t having it; he already had enough crew and so was turning down Anshu’s offer to pay for his time aboard the ship with labor—he wanted either coin or some other material payment. It sounded like he’d taken a bit of a shine to Anshu’s sword, but Anshu wasn’t even entertaining the possibility of parting with it just for a ride, and he had no coin to give the man instead.

After a few loud exchanges, Leon approached the two from behind Anshu.

“Good day to the two of you,” he loudly said as casually as he could as he slid in next to them close enough that he made it clear he wasn’t just passing by.

“The fuck you want, eh?” the captain demanded, his Islander accent fairly thick but not incoherent. Anshu just stared at Leon in mild surprise.

“Just wondering which of these ships is yours, and where you might be heading,” Leon said with as natural of a smile as he could muster.

“This one here,” the captain growled as he pointed a thumb over his shoulder at a fairly sizable ship—it was long and thin, and looked like it was being loaded up with jungle timber. “Heading to Kraterok.”

“Isn’t that just wonderful, I was hoping to catch a ride that way, myself,” Leon mentioned as he reached into his soul realm for a dramatically large bag of silver and began to casually toss the bag up and down, letting the coins within jingle pleasantly. “Is there some arrangement that I could make for myself and my comrades?”

The captain looked like he just about answered affirmatively, but then his eyes drifted back in Anshu’s direction. “This mudskin one of yours?” he asked.

Anshu almost drew his blade for that insult, and Leon was impressed with his self-control that he didn’t; the captain was only fourth-tier, and Leon guessed that he would go down fairly quickly against the much more visibly-armed Indradian.

After blinking a moment to control his own repulsed reaction, Leon turned to Anshu and asked, “Heading to Kraterok, too?”

Anshu slowly nodded as his look of fury slowly faded.

“I can pay for him, as well,” Leon said to the captain. “How much?”

Perhaps it was because the captain was clearly more comfortable dealing with the lighter-skinned Leon—regardless of the reason, Leon was still making more progress than he’d been only a moment ago—but Anshu let Leon do most of the haggling, remaining silent for the remainder of the exchange. Leon managed to bring the price down from fifteen hundred silvers per head to only eight hundred with a little dramatic display of lightning magic, and he was informed that the ship would leave the following morning. Any accommodations for his group, especially Anzu, such as food and drink, would have to be provided by Leon personally.

Once that was over, the captain returned to his duties of packing the ship with timber, and Leon and Anshu were left alone.

“… Thank you,” Anshu hesitantly said after a moment of silence. “I don’t know how much longer I would’ve had to languish in this damn place without your assistance.”

“I’m sure you would’ve gotten off the island somehow,” Leon said with a smile. “In this part of the world, I don’t think a fifth-tier mage would have that much difficulty being kept anywhere they don’t want to be…”

“Are you implying that I should’ve attacked that man?” Anshu asked, his tone sounding rather offended. Without waiting for Leon to respond, he continued, “I would rather stay here indefinitely among these provincial oafs then sully my honor so!”

“An interesting view from someone I pulled out of a sinking pirate ship,” Leon said with a wry grin. Anshu turned and glared at him, but didn’t speak to defend himself. “I’d like to talk with you, if you have a few minutes,” Leon continued. “I’ve an offer for you that I think you’ll want to hear…”