Someone Else's Kingdom, BOOK I - Chapter 7
Essen was in his element out at sea. His ship, the main ship of the four that made up his mini armada, was tearing through the waves at a pace, with the wind fully in its sails. His ambitious mission beginning with unbounded enthusiasm. His half-cousin Acalee - his unwanted accomplice - down below deck. The only member of the forty man crew opting to begin the journey asleep in his quarters. Though two hours into the voyage he was annoyed to find himself still wide awake, and filled with anxiety.
His plan, or at least hope, was to sleep during the daylight hours, to then watch the stars at night. Charting their southbound journey. He also deemed it wise that he should act as night lookout. Knowing full well that although Essen would doubtlessly spend little of the journey sleeping he would nevertheless burn himself out during the day. Further to this, he understood that the rest of the crew, though planning to rotate their shifts, could not be trusted to keep an eagle eye out when Essen was absent. Not for of any lack of trust - they were all hardworking, down-to-earth Brynnyfirdian men - but, like many Brynnyfirdians, they were a little too honest. So he feared they lacked the guile needed to spot the more subtle dangers they might end up facing. Though with Acalee's own lack of real world experience, it was always more likely that he would need their worldly instincts more than they his.
Their ship had been christened the Arbowlan by Essen. Arbowlan was a legendary figure of Brynnyfirdian folklore. It was said that he was the first man to fully sail the complete circumference of the entire ocean, and that he was the first man from the Western Isles to reach the Great Ocean of Steam. In some versions it was claimed that he actually sailed through the steam to reach Unanimaata, a mythical land beyond the realms of men. In others it was told that he'd held his bronze sword aloft in defiance, as he'd continued onward into the heat, his ship slowly catching fire as he headed forth. Dying in his quest to breach the bridge between gods and men. Ignoring the cries and pleas of his sailors to turn back.
Though Essen's mission was more rooted it reality, it nevertheless had a similar feel. He was indeed sailing south, just as Drua Maleeva had feared, but not to the Isle of Erba - the key to the Three Deserts. He was sailing even further still. To the island of Tunida itself. Replete with with cannon and shot. In tow with the main ship were three others, also well supplied with men. Two medium sized vessels - the Sleight and the Dew Elizabeth, and a third, a small bark christened the Dracette. The four together making an ambitious salvo. With the King of Tunid absent, visiting the mainland, the dream was to hold captive the island. A strike at the heart of a nebulous enemy.
Even Essen knew it was a tremendous gamble though. Taking an entire island, with just one hundred or so men - even with the blessing of the unholy black powder - was a near-impossible task. In fact, the calculation was that the firepower alone would be so terrifying, and such an unworldly experience for the islanders, that surrender would come before any real attempt at conquest. That they'd simply take the island hostage through sheer awe. Though in his mind Essen secretly hoped for at least some hand-to-hand combat. The palpable dislike he had for the Tunidans making them a much more worthy foe than the mainlanders he'd heretofore been fighting. The vision of putting them to the sword on their own virgin soil a prospect hard not to relish. To finally spoil their chaste and peaceful calm would be a striking contrast to the normal state of affairs, where Tunidan kings, from their distant island safety, would press foreign mercenaries to invade the islands of others.
Yet Essen's eager confidence wasn't shared by everyone, and Acalee, like several of the crew, had large misgivings. There were so many things that could go wrong, and even if the assault went well the dangers would only spiral. How could so few men govern an entire island? In moments of clarity it seemed ludicrous. Moreover, such an act of daring would never be forgiven. It would mean no quarter would ever be spared to any Brynnyfirdian going forward. It would be total and merciless war. Once such a line was crossed peace would be out of the question. So it wasn't just a gamble, but an all or nothing escapade.
An added fear was that the ship, along with its precious black powder, would fall into enemy hands. Or, more pertinently, that one or two of the crew members with knowledge of its composition - a list including Essen and Acalee - would be captured and forced to forgo its secret. Thus far the Brynnyfirdians had been especially careful. They'd not lost a single ship since the beginning of the so-called outbreak. Tailoring their strategy with particular regard to not surrendering their advantage. Having now reached a point of near dominance in their own waters however it was finally accepted that a strike further afield was of merit. A land attack on the mainland was simply out of the question. The three major kingdoms having such an endless supply of men and resources that the task would be futile. So the hope was in taking the major islands. Therefore dominating the sea.
The obvious next move would indeed have been to take Erba, as Madame Maleeva had foreseen, and then to slowly extend influence outwards from there. But the gains from taking Tunida so soon, and so surprisingly, was more attractive. A deadly strike at the jugular. The mainland kingdoms would also then have to split their forces of retaliation right across the whole ocean in response. Diluting their heavy numbers. So it was a brave, foolish, but potentially decapitating move. As Acalee struggled to sleep it all weighed heavily on his mind. He also thought of Colm back home, who shared these deep misgivings. Meanwhile, in the waking dreams of Essen it was already a fait accompli. He saw it all so clearly in his mind that he couldn't but wait to execute it. A tiger wating to pounce, held back by nothing but the sullen waves.
His plan, or at least hope, was to sleep during the daylight hours, to then watch the stars at night. Charting their southbound journey. He also deemed it wise that he should act as night lookout. Knowing full well that although Essen would doubtlessly spend little of the journey sleeping he would nevertheless burn himself out during the day. Further to this, he understood that the rest of the crew, though planning to rotate their shifts, could not be trusted to keep an eagle eye out when Essen was absent. Not for of any lack of trust - they were all hardworking, down-to-earth Brynnyfirdian men - but, like many Brynnyfirdians, they were a little too honest. So he feared they lacked the guile needed to spot the more subtle dangers they might end up facing. Though with Acalee's own lack of real world experience, it was always more likely that he would need their worldly instincts more than they his.
Their ship had been christened the Arbowlan by Essen. Arbowlan was a legendary figure of Brynnyfirdian folklore. It was said that he was the first man to fully sail the complete circumference of the entire ocean, and that he was the first man from the Western Isles to reach the Great Ocean of Steam. In some versions it was claimed that he actually sailed through the steam to reach Unanimaata, a mythical land beyond the realms of men. In others it was told that he'd held his bronze sword aloft in defiance, as he'd continued onward into the heat, his ship slowly catching fire as he headed forth. Dying in his quest to breach the bridge between gods and men. Ignoring the cries and pleas of his sailors to turn back.
Though Essen's mission was more rooted it reality, it nevertheless had a similar feel. He was indeed sailing south, just as Drua Maleeva had feared, but not to the Isle of Erba - the key to the Three Deserts. He was sailing even further still. To the island of Tunida itself. Replete with with cannon and shot. In tow with the main ship were three others, also well supplied with men. Two medium sized vessels - the Sleight and the Dew Elizabeth, and a third, a small bark christened the Dracette. The four together making an ambitious salvo. With the King of Tunid absent, visiting the mainland, the dream was to hold captive the island. A strike at the heart of a nebulous enemy.
Even Essen knew it was a tremendous gamble though. Taking an entire island, with just one hundred or so men - even with the blessing of the unholy black powder - was a near-impossible task. In fact, the calculation was that the firepower alone would be so terrifying, and such an unworldly experience for the islanders, that surrender would come before any real attempt at conquest. That they'd simply take the island hostage through sheer awe. Though in his mind Essen secretly hoped for at least some hand-to-hand combat. The palpable dislike he had for the Tunidans making them a much more worthy foe than the mainlanders he'd heretofore been fighting. The vision of putting them to the sword on their own virgin soil a prospect hard not to relish. To finally spoil their chaste and peaceful calm would be a striking contrast to the normal state of affairs, where Tunidan kings, from their distant island safety, would press foreign mercenaries to invade the islands of others.
Yet Essen's eager confidence wasn't shared by everyone, and Acalee, like several of the crew, had large misgivings. There were so many things that could go wrong, and even if the assault went well the dangers would only spiral. How could so few men govern an entire island? In moments of clarity it seemed ludicrous. Moreover, such an act of daring would never be forgiven. It would mean no quarter would ever be spared to any Brynnyfirdian going forward. It would be total and merciless war. Once such a line was crossed peace would be out of the question. So it wasn't just a gamble, but an all or nothing escapade.
An added fear was that the ship, along with its precious black powder, would fall into enemy hands. Or, more pertinently, that one or two of the crew members with knowledge of its composition - a list including Essen and Acalee - would be captured and forced to forgo its secret. Thus far the Brynnyfirdians had been especially careful. They'd not lost a single ship since the beginning of the so-called outbreak. Tailoring their strategy with particular regard to not surrendering their advantage. Having now reached a point of near dominance in their own waters however it was finally accepted that a strike further afield was of merit. A land attack on the mainland was simply out of the question. The three major kingdoms having such an endless supply of men and resources that the task would be futile. So the hope was in taking the major islands. Therefore dominating the sea.
The obvious next move would indeed have been to take Erba, as Madame Maleeva had foreseen, and then to slowly extend influence outwards from there. But the gains from taking Tunida so soon, and so surprisingly, was more attractive. A deadly strike at the jugular. The mainland kingdoms would also then have to split their forces of retaliation right across the whole ocean in response. Diluting their heavy numbers. So it was a brave, foolish, but potentially decapitating move. As Acalee struggled to sleep it all weighed heavily on his mind. He also thought of Colm back home, who shared these deep misgivings. Meanwhile, in the waking dreams of Essen it was already a fait accompli. He saw it all so clearly in his mind that he couldn't but wait to execute it. A tiger wating to pounce, held back by nothing but the sullen waves.
The Arbowlan cut crisply through the water. If it kept its pace they would arrive at Tunida ahead of time, but there was still plenty of ocean left in which to ponder how it all would pan out.
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