Moses & the Prince of the Sea, Part One

[Moses Mureaux]

Part one: ANOTHER WAR...

There were many who said we had tolerated their independence for too long. Others said we had failed to live up to the Arcanian ideal by not working harder to be a beacon of hope and enlightenment. And still there were others who said this and that and other things. However, there was one constant that seemed clear among all of the opinions on the subject: I had not a speck of interest in any of them. I was nearing the end of what was considered a youthful adulthood, and soon would, in addition to my prodigious military duties, be expected to shoulder more of the burdens of nobility. Therefore, at that moment, my interest in the new and bloody conflict with the Havenites was infinitesimal at best. I felt I had earned a little peace after the harrowing days of the Dragon's War. And there were scores of officers eager for the chance to prove themselves.

In the meantime, I had planned that I would enjoy a small span of time as Moses Mureaux, instead of Commodore Mureaux. For soon Commodore Mureaux would need to make preparations to give equal share to the Honorable Mureaux. And then, of course, one day, both would be utterly consumed by Lord Mureaux. The thought of such a thing was still odd to me at that time. Lord Mureaux was a name synonymous with my father, and yet, one day I was destined to become the same.

It was a thought I meant to put off for as long as I could. The sabbatical my father and uncle had taken had given me a bit of breathing room. The absence of Lord Mureaux, Master of Chamber, had relieved me of the unending public scrutiny of the Noble Houses, and, to a lesser degree, of that damnable title, “Son of Liberty”. I had comfort in knowing the Jae felt exactly as I did. The aggrandizing of our military exploits was one thing, but being seen as the continuation of a legacy we could barely comprehend was tiresome. We loved our fathers, indeed we did. But damn them for setting the bar so very high.

So it was that when I was summoned to the Chamber of Lords to meet with Lord Regent Mardel, that a single phrase repeated in my mind, over and over. “Another war...” It seemed that “King” Brutus Longtooth had proven more of a challenge for the Arcanian Guard than many had thought possible. It's often forgotten that Arcanians and Havenites share an ancestry in the old Hronin Empire. Other cultures may be no match for the ferocity of the Arcanian Legion Vast, but the Havenites are equally fierce, and utterly lawless. Their disparate nature had held them in check for over a hundred years, but that was before Longtooth. The latest of the Pirate Kings had been able to rally a nation of privateers into a united fighting force, through a cunning combination of fear mongering, hate mongering, and pure unadulterated bribery. That and his alleged possession of the Nether Blade, which is said to grant immortality to any who wield it.

Incredible. Another immortal king gone mad with power.

As I approached the Citadel of Arcane, I willfully discarded my earlier selfish musings. Moses Mureaux would be left at the first step. Only Commodore Mureaux would stand before the Lord Regent. Passing into the gallery, scores of officers, crewmen, and even cadets of Guard surrounded me on all sides. Each ensured that they attended to their duties unerringly, but I could still perceive a change in the atmosphere as I entered. It was no secret to me that many of my comrades in arms knew of and feared me. To others, the signs would be imperceptible. But to me, it was clear. Deep down, they feared the power they saw in my eyes. They feared I was either much more, or worse yet, much less than they were. They feared that I was a Dark One.

My crew, however, knew me well, and did not suffer from this doubt. It comforted me to know I would be amongst them again soon.

Approaching the private office of the Lord Regent, I was greeted by a young Cadet. Snapping to attention with obvious pride at having been selected to attend to Lord Mardel, he stated his challenge with confidence. “Greetings Commodore! State your purpose!” I could not help but smile at the authority in a voice so young, and was curious as to whether or not this was merely bravado. Moments passed. “Commodore, you will state your purpose, or withdraw!”

Excellent. No hesitation. But, could he follow through? I intended to see. Another moment. “Commodore, with regret...” And with that, the young cadet drew his saber, and thrust for my heart. My hand found my own weapon and drew the blade just enough to block the strike. “Very good Cadet...” I whispered, catching his gaze. A moment's distraction was all it took. The hilt of my saber found the young man's chin, knocking him squarely on his back side.

“Name and rank Cadet!” I commanded. “Cadet Commander Holden Gates sir...” he managed, dazed but determined. “State your purpose...” Offering him a hand up, I, at last, obeyed the command. “I am Commodore Moses Mureaux, Commander of the HLA Dupin of the First Air Fleet. I have been summoned into the presence of Lord Regent Cornelius Mardel.”

Straightening his uniform, he regained his bearings and lead the way, again with utter authority. It was obvious that no matter who I happened to be, he was the Lord Regent's attendant, and that meant that he was in command of the outer chamber. As it should be. At the outer doors, he turned to me. “Wait here until the Lord Regent summons you.” He opened the doors, took four steps in, presented a crisp salute, and called out to his master, “Lord Regent! At your bidding, Commodore Moses Mureaux!”

From inside the chamber, the familiar voice of the Lord Regent answered. “Enter Commodore...” Cadet Gates made a sharp right face, and took two step backwards. As I passed the cadet, he took two steps forward, executed another sharp right face, and exited the chamber. Impressive lad.

The Lord Regent rose to greet me. “Moses... Come in! Come in! Please, do sit down. Tell me, how have you been my boy?” The small talk lasted for the better part of an hour. He inquired about Mother, told me of his latest letters from Father and Uncle, asked if I had a chance to see Jae on my last leave, was quite interested in how my wound from the Battle of Tyranus had healed, and so forth. I enjoyed our conversation immensely, but knew that soon he would come around to the point of our meeting.

“The Havenites continue to be a source of frustration. As you know, I'm not the soldier your father and uncle are. I'm a diplomat at heart. However, as all Lords of Arcania, I have taken up arms and bled for Her. I simply can not allow this effrontery to continue. This misguided invasion of theirs is doomed to failure as we all know, but, as it stands at this moment, we are at a stalemate. The Third Naval Fleet is performing admirably of course, holding the line, and I had hoped that as the Havenite's losses continued to mount that they would relent. However, the pirates are using what can only be termed a “nautical cavalry raid” approach to their incursions. Darting into our waters, and retreating hastily when overpowered. An obvious tactic meant to draw our forces into their waters.”

In reply, I simply nodded. He continued. “The decision has been made to give them exactly what they want. Just not in the manner of how they want it, if you follow my meaning.”

“The Air Service, not the Naval Fleet, is to take the fight to them then my Lord?”

“Precisely. Specifically, you are to take the fight to them and pacify the Havens. We have reason to believe that you of all will be most effective against Longtooth's forces.”

“Oh?” I had raised an eyebrow unconsciously. There was a slight furrow in his brow, and I quickly attempted to mask both my feelings of disapproval, and my own embarrassment, from my Lord. My legendary status was appalling to me. I served along side incredible men and women each day, laying my life into their hands, and taking theirs into mine. And yet, their deeds were always overshadowed by my notoriety. It was shameful in my eyes. Yet, much to my chagrin, I had taken the Lord Regents meaning entirely wrong. With his usual kindness, Lord Mardel let this small break in bearing pass.

“The Havenites are unlike our previous adversaries. They live in a perpetual state of near anarchy. What was that law of theirs? The one they wrote down?”

“Don't get caught.” I replied.

“Yes, that's it! So it is that we have decided to take a different approach to the matter. You see, overwhelming force will not be the only weapon arsenal this time around. Fear will also be deployed. And we believe that you are the only man on this earth whom the pirates of the Havens fear more than Longtooth. You are, after all, the Daemon Scourge. And...” he leaned in, “Rumors of your negotiation with Emperor Maelstrom have proved to be rampant.”

I leaned my head back and silently cursed the Great Dragon. The Air Service's assault on Mount Dwaemor had been the most devastating loss the Dragon realm had ever suffered. Once again, my name became synonymous with the operation, as if I had executed it single handedly. I merely lead the mission as any Commodore would. “Lead by example. Lead from the front.” Every one of us learned that on our first day at the academy. Yet, the average Arcanian attributed the victory almost solely to me, pushing the bar my father had already set just a little higher.

And now the public had caught wind of this “Heart of Maelstrom” business. They know not that Emperor Maelstrom, supposedly the Father of all Dragons, orchestrated the entire affair, sending his children to test my might and bring me into his presence. While it is true that we share an identical irradiated nature, proven when he infused me with a portion of his own power, I had simply refused to believe that we share any other kinship. This intertwined destiny hogwash would, I had hoped, fade away soon enough. I pulled myself away from these musings and returned my attention to the Lord Regent.

“My boy, I know how you must feel. We still live under the shadow of the Dark Age. And your... uniqueness... must trouble you at times. But only those who do not know your heart fear you. Those of us who are so bless as to know of you, and the nobility that was bred into you can see that you are not a Dark One.” He rested his hand on mine. “See? I do not fear you. I trust you with my life. With all of Arcania! Why? Because I understand. You are a bearer of light... It shines from your very eyes my boy! One day, the whole of Arcania will see this. We simply have not reached that point yet. But have faith in the Cleansing. The Cleansing shall set you free.”

The Cleansing. I steeled my nerves and maintained my composure. I thought of the atrocities good men and women committed daily in the name of assured peace and safety. I thought of the atrocities I myself had committed. I thought of Galiandra grieving for her daughter. “How many more?” I thought. “How many more...?”

The Lord Regent, obviously seeing the uneasiness upon my face, moved on.

“Now, to bolster our forces, we have made a few changes to to the roster of the Air Service. Captain Jaelind Densmith, you'll no doubt be pleased to hear, has been promoted to the rank of Commodore, and has been given command of the HLA Riven, and of the Second Fleet. He will coordinate operations with you from the southern seas.” He was correct, this news was indeed most pleasing.

“And then there is Captain Imus Moldova.”

“My First Officer. Or former First Officer I presume?”

“Correct. He has been promoted to Commodore as well. He will defend our borders in the North East, and will soon take possession of the HLA Revenant upon it's rendezvous with the Dupin. I assumed you would want to present his star to him personally.”

“You assumed correctly my Lord. But I suppose I should also consider a replacement for his post.”

“You suppose incorrectly my good Commodore.” he said with a smile. “We have the perfect replacement selected for you. We mean no harm, mind you. We know you are utterly qualified to select your own officers. However, we only take the liberty because of the special circumstances. You would not have known of this option, as the officer was attached to the Naval Service.”

“A sailor? On an airship?”

“Indeed. She will be most helpful to you. Not only because of her martial skill and nautical knowledge, but it so happened that she is a Havenite herself. Ah, your smile betrays you! You know of whom I speak. Very good!” He depressed the call button on the radio transmitter built into his desk. “Cadet Gates. Show the Captain in.”

“At your command my Lord!” the young cadet responded.

Soon the chamber door opened, and Cadet Commander Gates again performed his duties flawlessly. “Lord Regent! At your bidding, Captain Neira Sweetwater!” It was only proper that I allow the Lord Regent to greet her first. However, I felt impatient for our eyes to meet. It had been several years since I had rescued Neira from the clutches of Captain Gore. Since then she had made Arcania her new home, and flourished exceedingly. I was a bit disappointed when she entered the Naval Academy, but I understood. The sea is in the blood of all Havenites after all. And she had indeed found distinction within our Navy. Her unwillingness to surrender in even the most harrowing of situations was phenomenal, for which I was indeed grateful. It was that same determination that had served us both well when she saved my life as we battled Grunella the Sea Hag's Mist Wyrm in the Northern Sea of Herron.

We had kept in contact over the years, cultivating a strong friendship, but I had little hopes of seeing her often, as our duties normally kept us at opposite ends of the continent. And yet fate had brought us together again. I loathed the prospect of another war, but at least I knew I would be in good company.

We sat and allowed the Captain to give us an overview of Havenite culture, seafaring tactics, and the superstitions that had fed into their fear of me as the Daemon Scourge. She had also prepared quite a bit of information on Longtooth and his most loyal Captains. I was unaware that the average citizenry of the Havens was so acquainted with the pirates who find their home there. I found myself most pleased with the Lord Regent's appointment of my new First Officer, for I could see already that her insight would prove invaluable.

As our discussion came to a close, the Lord Regent rose to escort us out. As we passed into the outer hall, the Lord Mardel arranged our usual wager.

“So Commodore, how long will it be until you pacify the Havens?”

“Three months and seven days my Lord. Not an hour longer.”

“Ambitious... As always, I hope I lose yet another cask of brandy to you. And it should go without saying that all I have is at your disposal.”

“I am delighted to hear you say such my Lord.” I replied, turning to young Cadet Gates. “Cadet! You're with me!” The boy, who had been at a perfect pose of attention since we entered the outer hall, for the first time lost his bearing, as I expected. “M-me?” he stuttered. “You heard the Commodore.” Lord Mardel answered for me, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder. “You should feel flattered. The Commodore only selects the very best to serve with him. Go. I shall inform the Commandant of your new field assignment. Good luck, and congratulations.”

“Me???” the boy inquired with wide eyes. In response, I merely placed my arm around the lad's shoulder, and lead him away. “Come along young Mister Gates. There is a war to be won...”

It was not long before we were all aboard the Dupin, which was currently stationed above Port Joseph in Penwick Province. The Riven had already arrived and was linked to the Dupin. We had only to wait for the Revenant to arrive and link to us as well, and then we could begin the celebration of Imus' elevation to Commodore. I could not help but smile. The crew knew we were taking part in a promotional ceremonies, but only Jae, Neira, myself, and Captain Maquis of the Revenant knew that it was our very own Captain who was the Guard's latest “victim”. Preparations were well underway, and the two Capital Ships were looking even more glorious than usual. I gave my new First Officer the grand tour, introducing her to the bridge crew, showing her to her quarters, her Ready Room, and concluding the tour in my outer chamber.

“These... are your personal quarters?” she inquired. “Yes. What of it?” I replied. She shook her head disapprovingly, “No, no... That simply won't do. Too cold. This looks to be more of an office than your Ready Room!”

Amazing. Her first day aboard the flagship of the Arcanian Air Service, and her first official act is to question the decorating style of her Commanding Officer.

“Commodore... with all due respect, we are at war. The days to come will be hard enough. Don't you think having some form of refuge, somewhere to 'get away' from it all, might be a wise choice? Somewhere you can retire, and take off the trappings of Commodore Mureaux, and simply be Moses?”

I was dumb struck. At first I found a bit of annoyance at her taking such liberty. Then I was amazed by the fact that she had so easily fathomed the desire of my heart in so short a span of time. It occurred to me that not all leave themselves behind in the name of duty. My First Officer surely hadn't. Along with Captain Sweetwater, she had brought along Neira, my dear friend. More and more was I pleased at the Lord Regents selection.

“Very well, Captain. Perhaps you are correct. I shall endeavor to make my quarters more of a 'refuge', as you say. This will, after all, be my home for the next three months and six days.” I said with a grin.

“You are confident of your time table then?”

“Of course. Are you not as well?” I responded.

“Time will tell. If you will excuse me, I should try to settle in. I trust I will see you at the celebration tonight?” I nodded ascent, and she took her leave.

Later that evening, after the Revenant had link with us, we ambushed Captain Moldova outside his quarters, placed him in irons, dragged him up on deck, and finally tried and convicted him of exemplary bravery, cunning, and leadership far above and beyond the call of duty. His sentence, the rank of Commodore, with all the rights and responsibilities therein, command of the HLA Revenant and the Third Fleet of the Arcanian Air Service. May God have mercy upon his soul...

Our revelry lasted long into the night. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Jaelind retreating back to the Riven. I followed, for we had only brief moments to speak during the celebration. He lead me up into the crows nest, where we looked out over the waters towards the Havens. We were silent for a moment, until Jae spoke the words in my own mind.

“Another war...”

“Indeed my Cousin. Yet another.”

“Do you suppose there is a pirate cunning enough in all the Havens to vanquish either of us?”

“We can only hope... I get to go first.” I retorted with a smile.

“You? Why you?”

“I'm older.”

“Bushwah! You always do this! If either of us gets to die, I'm going first!”

“Too late. I called it.”

He let out a hearty laugh. “So you did! Tis not fair though. I'm far more tired than you.”

“How do you figure that my friend?” I asked quizzically.

“You've been Commodore for a year and a half now. You've gone soft.”

“ I beg your pardon! May I remind you that we are equals now, Commodore Densmith!?”

“Yes, well, I was a Captain only five days ago. I still have callouses on me hands. See? Rough. Manly! I have no idea how you even grip your saber with those polished and dainty fingers of yours!” he chortled, giving me a hearty slap on the back. In response, I grasped him by the shoulder, giving a playful shake.

“Tis good to see you Jae. Tis exceedingly good.”

He smiled, looking me in the eyes, and then allowed his head to sink down. “Have you received our fathers' latest letter?”

I felt a lump in my throat. “No... I assume you have...”

He nodded, and said the words I dreaded. “They failed...”

I could feel my skin grow cold. “So it has not been destroyed... When will they return?”

“By the end of the year. Father says he will retake the Seat of Regency, and Lord Mardel seems almost eager to yield it. However...”

“Yes?” I said impatiently.

“Our fathers have decided that after a span of five years, they will retire. They plan on searching for an answer through out their remaining days, but... They fear that taking it with them will be far too dangerous. They plan on entrusting it to the two of us. And of course...” He looked at me with great sympathy. “You must take my father's place.”

Those last words shot through to my very core. A wave of nausea rippled through me, and I felt my legs grow weak. Five years... It was as if I knew the very day I would die. Nay, it was far worse than a mere sentence of death. In five years time, I was doomed to become Lord Regent of Arcania. Damn it all...

“Cheer up Moses... Perhaps we'll meet an especially cunning pirate!”

We both laughed the laugh of the damned. The release helped me to regain my composure. Regency would have to wait for now. At the moment, there was an invasion to stamp out.

“Another Immortal King, eh?” Jae muttered.

“Indeed my Cousin. Yet another.”

Jae looked out over the waters, his eyes cold and dark, “King Brutus Longtooth... Doomed... And he doesn't even know it...”

TO BE CONTINUED...

[Ceejay Writer]

(Brilliant, brilliant writing sir, and very engrossing reading. Thank you!)

[Breezy Carver]

(( I Concur ... smiles .. well done .. look forward to more . *smiles*))

[Penelope Strathearn]

*Hands Moses a coffee with half & half, a teaspoon and a half of sugar, & a splash of hazelnut extract, and also a clean damp rag so he can wipe off my cafe counter once he's done lounging all over it*

Nicely written, Your Lordship! Now get your nattily dressed bohonkus off my Cafe counter and write the rest of the darn story! Some of us are trying to cook here.... *eyeroll*

[Moses Mureaux]

Thank you for the kind words! I truly appreciate them. Let us hope that life doesn't squash the writing bug before I can finish this tale. :o)

*rests my nattily dressed bohonkus on Nell's counter and takes a nap.*

[Penelope Strathearn]

*toys with a flyswatter underneath the counter and waits until I know you're sound asleep*

[Ceejay Writer]

Let us pray the fervent prayer of completion, and make wiggly-important finger motions at the Hex of the Work In Progress. May it live to utter those powerful words... "The End!"

(Must finish my novels(s). Please inspire me. BTW, Bohonkus has now become legendary.)

[Penelope Strathearn]

Could you do the wiggly-important finger motions in my direction too? I spent three hours trying to add to my latest chapter yesterday, and got a whole paragraph written. *sigh*

I need to lock the Cafe doors at night. Maybe then the NDB can drape itself over the CocoaJava retaining wall like Garfield the cat ravishing a pan of lasagna. Moses says he's just trying to class up the joint, but personally I think the "cl" ought to be dropped. I mean, hoppin' up on the diner counter, dirty boots and all. Seriously! *grin*

Oh wait, my Cafe doesn't actually have doors. Drat! Probably ought to do something about that before the snow starts falling. *sigh*

[Moses Mureaux]

And so began the W.I.F.M. Writer's Block Support Group...

[Ceejay Writer]

Heh. Not a bad idea, really.

My main 'block' is time, though. There are SO many shiny, interesting things in life that I have a lot of trouble denying any of them my attention. And days are still only 24 hours long, dammit.