Chapter 481: No Nation is an Island
Argrave found himself gaining a difficult to shake habit. Whenever he was thinking, his right hand would wander to the black imprisoning gemstone hanging around his neck—the Ravenstone, as the Alchemist had dubbed it, perhaps in genuine jest. And these weeks upon learning of the coalition allied against them made him reach for the necklace nervously many, many times.
They tried to position themselves to handle the worst of the Chu, alerting the Archduchess of the North and the Bloodwoods both. The continent of the Chu Empire was far to the northeast, and so traditional seafaring techniques rendered it difficult to reach. Still, certain gods of seafaring—and Argrave knew there were some in the Qircassian Coalition—had the ability to lessen that difficulty. Additionally, in terms of seamanship, Vasquer was far behind most others. Most vessels off the coasts were trading vessels.
The only true ‘navy’ that existed was Relize’s fleet—largely trading vessels as well, made for the calm waters of the North Sea and locked within that body of water. The true ocean was miles away from the North Sea, and there were no paths connecting the two. The other naval presence, House Monticci… their fleet had been utterly destroyed two years ago, now.
As for their progress in rebuilding that force, Argrave arranged a meeting with an old friend.
Nikoletta of Monticci walked into the parliamentary hall of Blackgard, looking around at the place in some wonder. Argrave stepped up to meet her with Anneliese at his side, the indomitable pair of Orion and Galamon following along as their escorts.
“Cousin,” Argrave greeted in a polite tone. “Good to see you. Has your father recovered from the whole kidnapping business?”
“Your Majesty,” Nikoletta dipped her head. She’d cut her obsidian-color hair short, and seemed to have kept it that way. “Your Highness. Truth be told, I thought I’d never see my father breathing again, even. But no—he can breathe, walk, talk…” she wiped her face, her pink eyes seeming somewhat tired. “If I’m honest, I don’t think I’ll ever inherit the Dukedom. Mind you, I prefer it that way,” she added quickly, lest she be perceived as callous.
“I’m happy to see you’ve accepted an invitation to the parliament,” Argrave said, cutting straight to business. “It’s long overdue for Monticci to be better represented on the council. There’s much to do, but you’re welcome to join myself and the rest of the family for dinners henceforth. We can discuss that later. How’d your task go?”
Nikoletta put one hand on her hip and nodded. “Right. Business first. House Monticci has prepared perhaps ten ships fit for war. I scouted the other houses, took an account of what they had…” she bit her lip nervously. “Any ‘warships’ they have wouldn’t pass our shipyard’s standards. Bluntly put, our naval power is incredibly meagre. This city here, Blackgard, is the second major port on the ocean throughout the whole kingdom,” she waved backward, where the city waited beyond. “Some minor lords have fortifications along fishing towns and such. I’d estimate there’s well over ten thousand trading vessels sailing the sea—not at one time, mind you, but in total. But there’s never been reason to develop an outstanding navy. Veiden conducted the first naval invasion this continent has ever seen—it’s why it was so successful.”
Anneliese narrowed her eyes. “That is somewhat difficult to believe. By all accounts, your people constantly look for every advantage.”
Nikoletta nodded. “Not wrong, Your Highness. But fighting at the sea has long been viewed an immensely dangerous prospect. If you fall in the water, all manner of foul monsters await you—Irontooth Piranhas, krakens, leviathans. We focused on developing inland combat, and magic.” His cousin sighed and looked at the distant port of Blackgard. “Bluntly put… it would take decades to develop a serious navy. If it’s true that another group of invaders come from overseas, then we are at a massive disadvantage.”
“Alright. I appreciate your candor. I’ll…” Argrave rubbed at his eyes, thinking hard, before he was taken back to reality. “I’ll have some people take you to your room. Grimalt,” he called out, and his royal guardsmen stepped forward to receive his order.
As Nikoletta was escorted away, Argrave lost himself in thought. He’d hoped that he’d be able to ward away the Chu at sea with their own power, but they lacked seafaring knowledge, suitable sailors, and craftsman capable of making decent vessels.
But the Veiden and their longships were not subject to the same limitations. Their navy was large in number, virtually unparalleled in craftsmanship, and their sailors were some of the most experienced in the world. In the end, Galamon’s suggestion became more and more prudent—they would need to involve the snow elves.
After thinking the matter over for some time during the rest of the day’s task, Argrave sat with Anneliese on the opposite side of a table, their plates recently cleared of a hearty meal. Argrave looked outside of their private room, watching the bustling city with a sense of protectiveness.
“If we can’t secure a strong navy, the Chu will find a landing point,” Argrave told Anneliese quietly. “Their ships are more numerous, faster—without seafaring patrols, they’ll find a spot to land, build fortifications, and then all manner of things will make Berendar their home—gods of the Qircassian Coalition, even. I think we can beat them.” He rubbed his hands together. “But I’d prefer not to give them an opportunity. It’ll be like having ants in the house—impossible to get rid of. But Veiden, and their goddess Veid… what would they want if we asked for help? They agreed to help us fight Gerechtigkeit, and nothing else.”
“I believe you know precisely what my people want. They are nothing if not consistent,” Anneliese reminded him with a bitter smile. “Power. They are our allies, and I think things will remain that way, but they seek power enough to dominate rival nations after Gerechtigkeit has been defeated. They still seek to move beyond Veiden.”
“And that’s the last thing I wanted,” Argrave sighed. “But I think you’re right.”
“Fortunately, Dras is no fool. And I think we can rely on him in the present, and perhaps dissuade him in the future.”
“You don’t think he might turn his claws against Vasquer, once Gerechtigkeit passes?” Argrave questioned.
Anneliese smiled. “We have done well in forming a solid relationship with them. Hirnala, my friend, has built up a thriving trade network with the help of her husband Leopold. That trade has brought greater prosperity to Veiden—prosperity that Dras relies on greatly. Veiden imports much of its food from us now, which has freed labor for other tasks.”
Argrave leaned back in his chair. “Good lord. Did you plan that development from the start?”
Anneliese lowered her head bashfully. “Well… I did not anticipate it would go quite as well as it did. But yes, I hoped to tie Veiden and Vasquer closer to avoid war between the two.”
“Hirnala’s expecting a kid soon, right? Hundred years old, and still a horny bastard, Leopold… creeps me out. Still, should send them flowers or something,” Argrave marveled at Anneliese once again. “I forget how genius you are, sometimes. I think you’re just being humb—"
Two heavy feet impacted with stone, and when Argrave turned his head the Alchemist stood there in silken robes of his hair. As he jumped slightly, the twenty-foot-monster declared, “You must ensure this alliance with the dwarves.”
Orion burst through the door, drawing a weapon of divinity and holding it at the ready. Argrave held up his hand and stood, saying loudly, “Stop it, Orion. Just an inconsiderate, emotionally dead guest, not an assassin.” He gestured at the Alchemist. “There are more convenient ways to talk to me, you know.”
“Your sister refuses to extend her blessing of connection to me,” the Alchemist said, watching Orion as he put away the blade of divine bone. “Teleporting to you is the only other fastest method.”
Orion walked out of the door, shutting it. He’d broken the doorknob, so it hung loosely, and Argrave caressed his forehead as he sat back down. “Alright—what’s this about the dwarves?”
“I liquified Felipe’s corpse,” the Alchemist said, and Argrave watched the door to be sure Orion did not burst through the door yet again in wrath. “It was to extract the essence of Gerechtigkeit inside him. I’ve contained it within this.” The ancient being reached inside his body and pulled free a vial that gleamed with malicious black essence. “We need to head into the dwarven cities. If we cannot ally with them, we must infiltrate them—a hard task, given their construction. Dwarven metal can make teleportation with spirits somewhat difficult. And failing infiltration, we should invade them.”Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.
Argrave held both of his hands out. “Ease up. Why are you talking like this? What’s so important about the dwarven cities?”
“Sandelabara,” the Alchemist said as he walked to the table where they sat. “What Sataistador said, about the hole descending deep into the earth… it gave context for other research that I did not know where fit in. There was enough in what he said to indicate that he was not lying about this bottomless pit. And there was enough in the similarly bottomless troves of knowledge that Erlebnis kept about Gerechtigkeit to deduce the importance of this pit.”
Anneliese placed both of her elbows on the table and supported her head. “So, that vial… do you mean to use the essence of Gerechtigkeit to try and locate where Sandelabara might have been? You believe this bottomless pit is pertinent, somehow?”
“Your better half catches on quicker than you—though that implies you would’ve caught on at all,” the Alchemist derided Argrave.
“I’d be more offended if I couldn’t imprison you for all eternity,” Argrave shook his head. “Well… it’s true, the deep dwarven cities are connected in a circle around the planet’s core. Ostensibly, it’d cover everywhere this pit in Sandelabara might’ve led.” He looked right at the Alchemist. “You’re certain this is important enough to risk everything? Even invade an innocent nation?”
“If you don’t aid me, I’ll take matters into my own hands,” said the Alchemist quickly.
Argrave’s hands reached for the Ravenstone once again, fiddling with it. “The second dwarven envoy hasn’t shown up yet.” He looked to Anneliese. “I guess we ought to have an extremely compelling case for him. And you—you’ll have to wait. This will work, but not if you run amok. Give us a few days.”
“Hmm…” the Alchemist groaned in annoyance. “As you wish.”
Argrave removed his hand from the necklace, then planted his hands on the table and rose. “Good. Then, let’s find Galamon. Loathe as I am to do this… we can’t get through this without an alliance with the Veidimen. So, we talk to Veid, and to Dras. And then we prepare to find Sandelabara.”