CHAPTER ONE: One Fine Spring Morning in Darinth

Captain Ronin Covington of Darinth’s Viceroyal Home Guard received the missive on the first day of spring. It was delivered to his home by a messenger from the palace, and, as usual, it was vague. It was normal for the Viceroy to divulge the most important information personally. It was sensible, after all, and Lord Nelson Buchanan was a very sensible man.

The message came from Lord Buchanan’s own personal letterhead, and he had penned it himself. Lord Buchanan prided himself on being a very versatile person, and preferred not to have others do for him what he could easily do for himself. Thus, while he had scribes, scriveners, and linguists aplenty, his personal missives were actually personal. He had no secretary, just as he had no chamber servants. He was a strong man, and viewed such amenities as the delights of the weak and foppish. Ronin very much admired his Lord for these qualities.

The palace messenger came not long after the crack of dawn, but Ronin did not mind, for he was never one to oversleep. This habit was one he acquired years ago, when he was a stable hand. Those years were far behind him now, but old habits died hard, and it wasn’t by any means a bad one to keep.

Ronin lived in his father’s home, a neat two-story dwelling in the western district of Darinth City. It was one of the more pleasant parts of this great city, with nice, uniform houses, groomed lawns, and with the new spring making its grand entrance, the whole area was awash with bright, verdant color from the budding trees to the fantastic hues of the crocuses, tulips and carnations that grew abundantly everywhere. It was really a great place to live, especially now. For a while, Ronin had lived on his own, in a small house on the outskirts of town, but while he did enjoy it, he came back, and he still liked it better here.

Ronin climbed out of bed and opened the shutters. His window faced east, so he was basked in the fresh, warm sunlight of the new morning. From here, he could see across much of Darinth, almost all the way to the eastern walls. It was a great view, which is why he placed his work desk near it.

Having done that, he moved down the hall to the bathroom, and bathed himself. Ronin had spent little time away from the city in his life, but he heard that heated, indoor water wasn’t something you found outside of large cities. He didn’t doubt it, but he was still somewhat incredulous. He wasn’t sure he could live without it.

After cleaning himself, he dried and dressed in his House Guard livery, a long coat that extended to his knees, royal blue trimmed with brown and gold. He also wore a white cape, something his father had given to him years ago. He had no idea what it was made of, but the cloth was not only extraordinarily fine, it was also impossible to stain or tear, and out of curiosity he had tried to do both. His father never explained how this worked, merely stating that it did, and that was all that was important.

Satisfied that he was in presentable shape, Ronin left the house. As he did, he noticed that his father’s door was still closed, almost certainly meaning he was still asleep. Unusual.

The new spring day was bright and cool, but as Ronin stood in the sunlight, he could tell that the sun promised a wonderful, pleasant warmth to help further thaw the passing winter. He strolled around town for a while, the meeting with Lord Buchanan still more than an hour away. As he did on most mornings when he had the time, he stopped into a nearby coffee shop.

Named Weiss for its proprietor Alfred Weiss, this was a place where one could stop, sample many exotic coffee blends from the world over, and catch the latest news from travelers and businessmen. Business was different these days though. Weiss peddled primarily in imported coffee and information. Lately, there was a far greater amount of information than there was coffee, and unfortunately for Weiss, he could not collect a profit from the exchange of news if those doing the exchanging could not purchase his wares.

The news and chatter that always permeated the establishment was almost exclusively on one matter this morning, that being the disappearance of the Elefrim Ferry, and the devastating effects the disappearance was having on the local economy. Practically everything that the Principality did not produce locally came in from a single source, the Elefrim River. There were many dangerous and treacherous natural obstacles that formed an effective natural barrier that separated Darinth and Elefrim from the eastern half of the Principality, and the river was the one major lifeline through it all. Western Darinth did have a port, but it was so far from any other that most sea traders made for the much more accessible port of Kalied instead, and it is from there that goods are shipped west along the river to the two cities. The Elefrim river is very narrow, and in some spots treacherous, so there is only a single craft that takes goods back and forth. Though it would be convenient to have more than one, it would neither be practical nor safe, considering the conditions.

For many, many years, this method worked perfectly. But two weeks ago, the ferry left Elefrim, bound for Kalied in its interminable two-day journey, but never arrived in the port city. For days, crews traveled in small boats along the river, hoping to find it, but as far as anyone could tell, the giant craft disappeared. There was only one tributary large enough for the craft to have been diverted, and that was within the Tearran Forest, but no one had yet to search this area, for the waters of this tributary were extraordinarily dangerous, and if the ferry had indeed been swept down this way, it was almost a certainty that it had met an untimely fate.

Regardless of that, the more immediate impact was felt in places like Weiss’ coffee house. Prices were on a sharp rise, and business was in sharp decline, for not only was there a lack of coffee to sell, and not only was it more expensive, but many of the people who frequented here were experiencing their own brand of troubles due to the shortages of importers, and the surpluses of exporters, and were not nearly as willing to spend money as freely as they once did.

Ronin wasn’t overly concerned about the shortcomings of businessmen; his business was with the Viceroy, and regardless of shipments, goods, and the like, he would still get his pay every week. The more he heard, though, the more he was convinced that the Viceroy was calling him for a job that was related to this massive problem.

While Weiss was almost completely devoid of the fine coffees of western Cadenta that drove much of his business, he still had a somewhat-ample supply of local bean, and while Darinth bean could not even begin to compare with that of the Capes region across the sea, if one really desired a hot cup of coffee enough, he would not have to leave totally unsatisfied. Ronin was quite fond of coffee, and while he, like most, did not care for the local product, he still had his customary two cups before leaving.

Not too far away, in the northern section of Darinth, closest to the palace, Robert de Torbauld left his house about the same time Ronin left Weiss’. Robert was the only son of Elefrim’s Duke, Kentson de Torbauld, and he held the rank of Sub-Captain in the Viceroyal House Guard. As had Ronin, Robert also received a summons from Lord Buchanan. Unlike Ronin, Robert knew exactly what the cause of this summons was, for as the son of the Duke, he had considerable stake in the goings-on of commerce, though this was to be his first official briefing on the matter. His father would certainly know more, but obviously, there was no chance of correspondence, so he did not take the time to bask in the new sun’s warmth or to admire the springtime’s beauty that was on display all over the city. There would be time for that later.

Darinth’s main street, formerly known officially as King John’s Boulevard when Darinth was still independent, but known informally as just ‘the Broad’ before and since the war, stretched through the city’s inner gate, all the way to the main gate on the outer south wall. It was called The Broad because it was by far the widest avenue in the city, and was the main artery of travel within. It was here, near the walls of the keep, that Robert and Ronin ran into each other, almost literally.

“Good morning, Ronin!” said Robert with a wave.

Ronin executed a perfect bow, and then stood ramrod-straight and crossed his chest with his right arm to his left shoulder, the official salute to the nobility of Cadenta.

“A pleasant morning, lord Baron de Torbauld, sire,” Ronin said. The large grin on his face, and the sour mix of disgust and amusement on Robert’s did much to shatter the illusion of formality to passersby, however. Robert punched Ronin lightly in the shoulder, and both of them laughed.

“Someday I’ll have you brought before the House of Nobles to hang for your disrespect, you know,” Robert said with a sideways glance.

“Promises, promises,” Ronin retorted, “So, I take it you were also called to His Grace’s audience?”

Robert held the missive up with two fingers. “Of course. You know why, don’t you?”

“I have a pretty fair idea, but I don’t know many details,” said Ronin, “nor do I have any idea what business it is of ours.”

“Well, it’s definitely my business,” said Robert, “although I too am at a loss as to what you and I will be told to do about it.”

They continued walking, up to the gates of the palace. There were guards posted, outfitted in the standard soldier’s gear. They opened the gates for the two Guardsmen, and they proceeded to the courtyard.

“I think,” Ronin continued, “Lord Buchanan should be sending for men from the Shipper’s and Merchant’s Guilds, to search for the ferry.”

Robert gave a rueful laugh. “He already has. They’ve been searching almost non-stop for the past three days, so I’ve heard. He’s calling us for a different reason, I think.”

Ronin looked at his friend. “You think there’s foul play involved?”

“Without a doubt. I’ve ridden that ferry more than a score of times, and the boat has a large crew, and most of them have years and years of experience. I know the gossip has the ferry drifting off into the southern neck of the river inside of the Forest, but I can’t see so many of the crew being incapacitated so long that they could be diverted like that, unless they were forced to by something… or someone.”

“Any ideas who could be responsible?” said Ronin.

Robert shrugged. “I guess the Viceroy does. I can imagine several scenarios, but I don’t really know much more than you do about the details, so it’s all tossing into the wind.” He paused for a moment, in thought. “It’s a crazy thought, but maybe the Aqualorean pirates are striking inland now.”

Ronin laughed, but there was little humor in it, for the pirates of the small, reclusive island kingdom in the south were very well-known even this far from sea. They were feared the world over for their viciousness and skill. The Empire of Cadenta, of which Darinth was a part, was far and away the dominant governmental entity of the world, and had been for ages, but Aqualore had always remained free of her influence, and even though Cadenta had a pretty fearsome navy, the corsairs of Aqualore did not fear them a bit, and were well-known to attack the Imperial Fleet with near impunity. Still…

“I don’t think it’s them,” Ronin said finally, “I know the pirates have forced honest seagoers to be as careful as possible, but I doubt the pickings have become so slim that the corsairs have to resort to river-raiding half a world away from home.”

Robert looked heavenward before they entered the entrance hall of the palace. “I sure hope you’re right, Ronin,” he said, “otherwise, Darinth may be in more serious peril than everyone thinks.”

- - -

Lord Nelson Buchanan sat at his desk in the palace’s Strategy Room, a large chamber with maps of every known corner of the world. His favorite was the world map on the western wall. It was actually a very articulate mural that was painted on the entire wall, and the detail was absolutely exquisite, besting even the Grand Globe of Cadenta University. Even the known and mapped barrier islands rimming the enormous (and largely-unmapped) continent of Dead Eden were drawn and demarcated, though much of the continent itself remained blank, void of any landmarks, either political or geographical. When the Viceroy of Darinth needed to relax, this was where he came. Staring at this wonderful mural always loosened his mind and made him better able to think, and that was part of why he was in here this morning.

Many smaller maps and notes were spread upon his desk. Unlike the grand mural, which the desk faced, these maps were more specific, though only slightly more detailed. They showed much of central Darinth, specifically, the areas around the Elefrim river. He had been poring over these maps for days, alone and with advisors. He did know what happened to the ferry, and Robert’s guess was correct; there was most certainly foul play involved. However, even for the Viceroy, intelligence was spotty, and communication was difficult. Thus, even though it repulsed him to do so, he formulated a plan with incomplete detail, and did so, he told himself, out of sheer necessity. Desperation had not yet totally set in among his citizens, but that wasn’t too far away. Something had to be done, and he would send two of his most trusted men to do it.

A knock sounded at the chamber door. Those two trusted men had arrived, it seemed.

“Enter, please,” Lord Buchanan instructed.

The door swung open, and the slight creak in the door hinges echoed inside the Strategy Room. Captain Ronin Covington and Sub-Captain Robert de Torbauld strode in side-by-side, to the Viceroy’s desk, and saluted their Lord.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Buchanan started, “please be seated.” They did so. Buchanan stood and addressed his men.

“I know that you are both aware of the crisis facing Darinth and Elefrim. I am quite certain you’ve heard many different tales on the streets of town regarding said crisis. I am also quite certain you realize I called you here regarding said crisis. Am I correct in assuming this?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” both men responded.

“Good.” Buchanan held a pointing stick, and now he tapped it against his leg. “Tell me then, what you know so far.”

Both men did so, and they included Robert’s own private suspicion about Aqualorean pirates, which won a surprised look from the Viceroy.

“You are correct in suspecting foul play, but, thank heaven, it’s definitely not the work of Aqualore. Master de Torbauld, you are no doubt familiar with a bandit group calling themselves The Rogue Dragoons?”

“I have heard of them, Your Grace, but I cannot say I am overly familiar with them. So far as I know, they are little more than caravan-robbers and chicken thieves. They rarely bothered anyone around town, and never to my knowledge have they even attempted to disrupt river traffic. I know they are based in the Tearran Forest, and number between four and twelve, at last report.”

“That may have once been the case,” said Buchanan, “however, we believe that they now number at least a score. They did successfully capture the Elefrim Ferry, and so far, there has been no trace of wreckage. A minimum of twenty men is required to safely crew the vessel. Assuming they have stowed the craft somewhere, they would have needed that many to have piloted it to safety.”

“But what if they forced the ship’s crew to do the actual piloting?” said Ronin.

“The vessel was stolen while docked. We do know that four crewmembers were reported missing after the attack, and it is assumed they were onboard. However, obviously four crewmembers would not be enough to pilot. If they were forced into service, the bandits would likely have to spare men to guard them. Therefore, we are looking at about twenty.”

There was a pause. Then Robert stood.

“Your Grace,” he said, “What do you require of us?”

Lord Buchanan pointed at a point southeast of Elefrim on one of his maps. “As you’ll both know, this is the Tearran Forest. And, as you stated, Master de Torbauld, this is where these bandits are believed to be staging.” He looked at Robert. “I have been in communication with your father, and I have already mustered a contingent of soldiers to Elefrim. You will lead them into the forest, discover their headquarters. You will eliminate them, and retrieve the ferry intact. That is your charge.”

Neither Robert nor Ronin said a word. There was no option, they would accept this mission.

“It is imperative that you both realize the importance of this task,” Buchanan continued, “To construct another such vessel could take a year. In the meantime, Darinth’s economy will be paralyzed. Without that ferry to travel the rough river, the only route of trade is through that forest, and any merchants and traders going through there will be very easy prey for the Dragoons. They will have us by the throat, gentlemen. And who can then say demands will not be made? You need to stop them before they can make such assertions. You need to display to these scum of the earth the folly of endangering the Principality.”

Buchanan dismissed the pair. They were escorted out of the palace. Neither of them spoke until they were walking south on The Broad, amongst the bustling afternoon traffic. The sun above was delivering the promised warmth, and both men removed their dress overcoats.

“So, what’s the plan, Ronin?” asked Robert.

Ronin ran his fingers through his hair and looked at the sky. “I would have to defer to your judgement here, I think. This is really the first time I’ve gone so far from Darinth before.”

Robert laughed. “City boy, ha! We’re going to have a good bit of trekking ahead, since we can’t take the river obviously. We’re going to have to cross the Zebala Mountains. There’s a number of passes, so it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“So you say.” Ronin replied. “How about we get lunch at Weiss’ and go over the particulars?

Robert thought it a good idea, and that’s exactly what they did. During lunch, it was decided that they would leave that day, for there was no reason to wait. It would be at least a week’s journey on foot, and every day delayed would be a day wasted.

After their lunch meeting, Ronin and Robert split and went their separate ways to make preparations for the journey. Taking Robert’s advice, Ronin gathered a heavy coat, sturdy boots, and some of his father’s travel rations, dried beef and hard tack.

About three hours after noon, they met once again at the south gate of the inner wall. Both men carried sling packs, and both agreed that they were enough prepared. They passed through the inner gatehouse, but had not taken a dozen paces past it when a voice hailed them from behind.

“Hey! Wait, Ronin!”

They turned around to see a tall, middle-aged man with long, charcoal hair and intense eyes waving to them. It was Ronin’s father, Sean.

“Don’t go just yet,” said Sean, “I need to talk to you for a few minutes before you do.”

Ronin shrugged. “Okay, father, what is it?”

Sean shook his head. “In private. I’m sorry, Master de Torbauld, but this is something I need for him to hear only. We won’t be long.”

Robert nodded, and sat down against the wall while Ronin and Sean retreated to a private corner of the courtyard, well-shaded by several newly-budding trees. Sean glanced around to ensure no one was eavesdropping, and was satisfied to see that nobody was. He pulled out a tobacco pipe, lit it and inhaled deeply.

“What’s this all about, father?” Ronin asked.

Sean looked his son in the eyes. “Don’t be alarmed by what I’m about to tell you, even though I’m sure it will come as a bit of a shock to you. I need to tell you about what it is you’re up against.”

Ronin’s confusion was evident on his face, but he said nothing.

“I know where you’re going, and I know why. You and Robert are after the Rogue Dragoons. They snatched that ferry, and Lord Buchanan’s sending you to retrieve it from them.”

Now Ronin’s confusion became total bewilderment. “How on earth did you know that? We just got those orders hours ago, and they were top-secret!”

Sean gave a wry smile. “I just keep my ears to the ground, son. It’s not important. But, the Dragoons… they’re bad news. I am aware of the general appraisal of their numbers and capabilities, but don’t be careless, for they are quite a bit more powerful and numerous than even the Viceroy believes.”

“How do you know all this, and if it’s true, why did you not tell him about it?” said Ronin.

“Because I did not feel like telling his Lordship about it. But, he’s sending you into their rat holes, and now I’m telling you to watch your back very carefully. As for how I know, well, I’ve had dealings with them in the past. They are not what most people think they are.”

“What sort of dealings do you mean?” said Ronin.

“That’s not important,” said Sean, “I imagine you will find out eventually, and I think it’s better if you found them out on your own.”

“What is it with all this double-talk, father?” Ronin said, with an angry edge in his voice he could barely conceal.

“Never you mind,” his father replied, “Just mind my words. Take the utmost care around them. You should be fine.”

Sean walked away, through the inner gates, and back to their house in the western district. Before he got to where Robert was standing, he turned back to his son, who came to meet him. He handed Ronin a bag. It was heavy with gold Imperial coins.

“Traveling money. You may end up needing it,” is all he said. Then, unexpectedly, he wrapped Ronin in a heavy embrace.
“Be safe, son.” Sean said. “I love you.”

Ronin gave a nervous laugh. “Don’t worry, father, I’ll be perfectly alright.”
Sean smiled. “I hope so. Take care, the both of you.” He turned and walked back through the inner gates, and out of sight.

Without another word between them, Ronin and Robert proceeded to the main gate of the city. They took a leisurely pace, passing by a trio of groundskeepers shearing a group of hedges that had grown rough through the winter, and a sergeant drilling a company of new recruits. Introductory training in the Cadentan Army was a twenty-week exercise in misery. Fourteen hours a day, six days a week, nothing but exercise, field traning and combat traning. Every seventh day was reserved for the comparatively benign rigors of Tactics and Strategy instruction. Ronin was a decade out of Introductory training, but he remembered how terribly grueling it was. And poor luck for these boys, but it was only the second day of the week.

Robert remembered his Introductory traning too, but he felt a little less pitiable to the new grunts. He waved at the trainees, with a large, ridiculous grin stretching his face.

One of the training soldiers was actually stupid enough to wave back, and when the sergeant caught sight of that, he strode up to the private, hit him soundly in the back of the knee with his spear butt, and laid into the unfortunate kid with a hailstorm of screaming profanity.

Robert laughed until tears streamed down his face, dropping his pike on the ground.

“Ha ha ha, oh, that was hilarious! You can tell that idiot’s a brand new… OOOF!”

He did not notice Ronin pick it up off of the ground and take a similar swipe at the back of his knees. He fell hard to the ground on his back, but when he looked at Ronin, he laughed again.

“I’m sorry, it may be rotten, but it was funny,” said Robert. Ronin extended his hand and pulled his friend to his feet.

“I hope that poor kid saw what I just did,” Ronin said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, so do I,” said Robert, “Maybe he’s dumb enough to laugh at it out loud.” They both laughed at that thought.

“Come on,” said Ronin, “Let’s stop harassing the new springtime saplings and get going.”

It was two content and excited men that left Darinth through the main gate of the south outer wall. Robert was excited to return home, and Ronin was excited merely to get out of the city and see something new for a change. Together, they walked off into the rolling hills and grasslands of western Darinth, coming to life all around them thanks to the return of the warmth of a new spring season.