Blades of Ashes - 3. Chapter 3

3-1

Magnus rode his horse like a man possessed when he received news of Azula’s plan to counter the robberies plaguing the clan. He rode fast on busy cobbled paths, his assistant shouting warnings to save anyone who did not notice his haste.

Yaitan’s workshop was where Azula managed his devious plans. The young man was probably stirring up a large force of trouble. The thought of the consequences had Magnus urging his horse into a faster pace.

Yaitan’s workshop was hidden in a cave surrounded by tall, evergreen trees. Azula discovered the workshop when he was twelve. He gifted the discovery to his master, Yaitan, and they bonded over the large deposits of ilmenite the two unearthed in the cave depths.

Azula was twenty this year. These two, master and student, had built up Yaitan’s Workshop into an experimental, risk-taking, genius den. Magnus felt sweat slide down his back whenever he thought of Azula and Yaitan making plans.

Magnus jumped off his horse when he reached the cave entrance. The heavy wooden doors at the cave entrance were carved with intricate designs—a combination of Azula and Yaitan’s work. The doors were open, and warm light indicated ongoing work. A strained shout reached him, and answering calls responded.

Magnus cursed under his breath and hurried into the warm workshop. It was almost dinnertime, and he preferred spending the next few hours listening to beautiful Rara sing. He walked through a team of five men standing between two extended workbenches. Their attention was on a huge passenger carriage in the middle of the open space deeper in the cave.

The men moved when they noted Magnus, allowing him to walk closer to the massive passenger carriage taking up space in the middle of the large cave. The passenger carriage was built with a handsome mix of hardwood and iron. The iron twisted into intricate designs, weaving through the wood, making it look luxurious and sturdy at the same time. The four wheels on the carriage were doubled and wide. Strong enough to carry heavy weight.

Magnus frowned when he saw his nephew holding on to the handle of a massive wrench. Kalas stood next to Azula, providing support as they tightened a bolt on the shaft and hitching parts.

“That should hold it,” Azula said when they tugged again, and the bolt did not move. “I’ll ensure Sennin checks on it when we reach the Everlasting Port.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to accompany you?” Kalas asked, taking the wrench from Azula and placing it on a holder on the table.

“They are coming along,” Azula said, waving to the five men Magnus had passed. “They helped put this carriage together. Each one knows how the carriage works. Plus, they are the ones who will know how to stock the undercarriage with the ore we need. Kalas, don’t worry. This will work out. We’ll get to the capital in no time.”

“The in-between is what I’m worried about,” Kalas said, shaking his head as he reached for a cloth on the table to wipe the sweat off his forehead. “You’re not a warrior, Azula. None of us are.”

“We’ll worry about that when the time comes,” Azula said, his focus on the shaft.

“No wonder your Papa thinks I’ll spoil you to death,” Magnus said, drawing Azula’s immediate attention. He turned around fast, his gaze widening when he saw Magnus standing a few feet away. “When were you going to fill me in on this plan?”

“When the carriage was onboard the ship,” Azula said with a wide grin. “Magnus, don’t worry so much—”

“What is the plan?” Magnus demanded, cutting him off.

“Magnus.”

“Tell me now, or I will lock you up in the main house for a month,” Magnus said.

Azula studied him for a minute. He was undoubtedly trying to decide how much he could leave out. Magnus glared at him and fought a grin when Azula gave in.

“You’re not going to like it,” Azula said. “It has to be done even though you don’t like it.”

“Tell me,” Magnus insisted. “Then I’ll decide what has to be done.”

Azula glanced at Kalas, hoping for support, but Kalas shrugged and moved away from the carriage to join the five blacksmiths behind Magnus.

“Really,” Azula said, shaking his head at Kalas’ obvious abandonment. He pulled off a white cloth tucked into the belt at his waist and used it to wipe off sweat from the back of his neck.

“Fine,” Azula said, shaking his head. “Uncle Magnus, you come closer. I have to show you the carriage inside to understand the plan.”

Magnus removed his heavy jacket and handed it to his assistant. He walked around an open toolbox on the floor and joined his nephew at the elegant open door into the carriage.

Azula stood on the side, holding the door open with his left hand, and held out his right hand to Magnus.

“Welcome aboard, Uncle,” Azula said, giving him a formal nod.

Magnus bit back a laugh, his gaze on Azula’s callused hands, the palms covered with streaks of black and dirt. The more than capable hand so dear, he might murder anyone who dared harm this child’s hand. Magnus clasped Azula’s dirty hand with his, holding it tight as he climbed up the steps into the carriage.

The interior was spacious. The walls of the carriage were covered with a deep blue velvet. The benches were upholstered with deep blue velvet and were button-tufted. It looked like a rich man’s lair. The cushions laid out on the benches were designed for comfort.

Magnus sat on the bench facing the driver and watched Azula, who chose to sit facing the door.

The carriage provided them with privacy to talk away from the men outside.

“What’s the plan?” Magnus asked, his gaze serious as he met Azula’s determined gaze.

“This carriage hides secret storage within the walls and the undercarriage. The black ore Papa needs is hidden there. The five men there are the only people who know what this carriage hides. I’m going to ride it to Genad,” Azula said.

“Not alone,” Magnus said.

“Of course, I won’t be alone,” Azula said, shaking his head as he sat back, stretching his legs out. He let out a soft sigh. “I’ll take Sennin, six horses, the five men out there, a driver, and his helper. It’s enough of a spectacle. The journey to Genad will take too long as it is.”

Magnus studied Azula for a full minute, then looked at the luxurious carriage that now hid valuable ore. He could have never thought to do this to save the clan from thieves.

“How long have you worked on this carriage?” Magnus asked, curious how such a large project had gone unnoticed.

“This carriage is meant for Alise’s wedding,” Azula said, touching the bench with his palm, only to stop when he noticed the dirt on his hands. “You know she’s going to bring Yemin to greet our parents. He’s her chosen mate and the next second to the Chieftain. I wanted them to celebrate their day with style. I have been designing this carriage bit by bit. Too bad it’s now being used to save our ore.”

Magnus smiled.

“It’s good luck it will be used to save the clan’s ore,” Magnus said. “When you succeed, it will bring good luck to Alise and Yemin.”

Azula grinned at the mention of his sister and her chosen partner. Magnus loved the easy support between siblings. Alise loved her younger brother even more. This was why Magnus worried about Azula’s safety. Nothing could happen to this youngest Chieftain’s son.

“You need protection,” Magnus said.

“I will have our five blacksmiths with me,” Azula said. “Sennin is there too.”

“Not blacksmiths,” Magnus said, shaking his head. “You need warriors. Warmongers. People who are not squeamish about drawing blood. Our people are too soft. We have families and value peaceful existences. You need soldiers.”

“We don’t have those,” Azula said.

“Buy them at the port,” Magnus said, holding Azula’s gaze. “I mean it, Azula. Use the money I get from selling mangoes if you don’t have spare silver.”

“Uncle Magnus, it’s not about the money,” Azula said. “You know good lieutenants are not easy to find. The port magistrate is corrupt. We can’t trust them to get us to the capital. Let alone fight off determined armed robbers.”

“They will fight them off for the right price,” Magnus said. “I’ll find you the gold to make sure it works out. Do this for me, and I’ll not oppose your plan.”

Azula stared at his dusty boots for a full minute before he let out a sigh.

“Finding a lieutenant will cost us time at the port,” Azula said.

“It should,” Magnus agreed. “It will also give you time to understand what else we don’t know about the people coming after us.”

“Okay,” Azula said with a sigh. “I’ll do as you say.”

“Can you pull this trip off?” Magnus asked Azula.

Azula looked up then and met Magnus’s worried gaze. He smiled wide and nodded.

“Yes,” he said. His confidence made Magnus almost believe it, too.

Magnus nodded and scratched his head.

“I can’t wait to hear what your father will say about this when he sees you. He’ll blame me for indulging you again. I’m warning you early. I’ll make you drink two barrels of wine at your wedding to pay me back for all this trouble.”

Azula laughed then, and Magnus grinned at the youthful sound filling the carriage.

****

Two days later, two hours before noon, Azula’s ship docked at the Endless Port, and the crew started offloading the more manageable packages. Azula stepped out of the vessel with a lazy yawn, stretching his arms above his head as he walked. He dropped his hands when a short boy blocked his path and handed him a folded scroll.

Thanking the boy, Azula stepped aside and unrolled the scroll to read the contents. It was a message from his father, asking him to visit the magistrate’s compound at the port.

The Naga State port was an entry point into the empire. Traders, visitors, immigrants, and travelers from other continents filled the port. Its fame won it the unofficial name of Endless Port.

The Naga State King tasked the port magistrate with overseeing law and order in this vibrant port. He even handed over a military garrison and placed it under the magistrate’s command.

The magistrate used the officers in the port garrison to maintain peace and punish anyone who tried to cause trouble at the port. However, his dedication to the job left much to be desired.

Everyone making a living at the Endless Port knew not to trust the magistrate.

Which was why Azula stood frozen as he read his father’s second message.

“He wants me to report the theft to the magistrate here at Endless Port,” Azula said, turning to Sennin, who joined him from the ship. “Has Papa lost his mind? What does he think the magistrate will do? It’s like asking me to confront the thieves in person.”

Sennin took the note and read it fast.

Azula looked around the busy dock. His frown depended as he wondered what had gotten into his father. A man with short strawberry-blonde hair carried a crate filled with mangoes into a large warehouse a few feet away.

The Sura Clan ran this docking station at the Endless Port. It was where their ships offloaded and received the cargo. The men and women who operated the port were all from Sura Island. They packed the cargo into transport carriages, and seasoned drivers took it to the capital city of Genad. They also arranged cargo from the capital into the ships for transport to Sura Island.

This routine was ageless. Every clan member old enough to contribute had worked the system at the Endless Port.

Suddenly, Azula was sure their age-old traditions had somehow exposed them to a new threat.

Sennin handed the note back, and Azula stuffed it into his pocket.

Azula adjusted the leather belt, holding his trousers in place. He took a good look at their ship. Inside, in the cargo hold, hid their first attempt at a new transport carriage.

A transport carriage Azula hoped would fool the people doing their best to ruin them.

Now, all they had to do was fulfill his promise to Magnus. He needed to find a stronger force to deal with an aggressive attack.

Magnus was always right. Their people were blacksmiths. They could beat iron, silver, gold, and any other metal into shape. However, they were no warriors. Half of them were very softhearted. Their family life in the Sura village made it impossible for them to become cold warriors able to fight off a killing horde.

“What do we do now?” Sennin asked.

“Follow Magnus’s wishes,” Azula said, his gaze shifting away from their ship to the rest of the busy dock.

Azula nodded his greetings to familiar faces, which was everyone here. He had grown up knowing everyone who worked or ran a business at the Endless Port. This was why he paused when he noticed a pair of women sitting at the end of the boardwalk.

They looked too new, unfamiliar, and out of place. They sat on old wooden crates, eating fried potatoes out of brown paper. A misshapen wooden stand was arranged before them, facing the main street. It looked like they were selling something, but their attention was on the Sura ship.

“We should find somewhere quiet,” Azula said. “There are too many eyes.”

Azula met Sennin’s gaze and nodded toward the two women.

Sennin waited for a beat, then with grace and tact. He glanced at the end of the boardwalk.

Azula noticed the two women had gained an interested customer. The customer browsed their wares, but the two women made no effort to sell.

“Maybe your father has the right idea,” Sennin said, shaking his head.

His gaze shifted back to their ship.

“I asked everyone to hold on moving the carriage. They will take out crates filled with the mangoes Magnus sells to the inns around here.”

“Agreed,” Azula said. “Uncle Magnus was right. We need updated information. Let’s go to the nice inn in the middle of town where outsiders like to go. We’ll get something to eat. I’m hungry, and they have the best sweet and sour roasted chicken.”

“Azula,” Sennin started to add more.

“It’s not like we can leave the port right now,” Azula said, using his thumb to point behind them. “They are probably going to follow us. There is a possibility they are with the people robbing us blind.”

“You know Alva packed your food,” Sennin said as Azula turned and headed along the boardwalk to the main road.

“I will eat later when I’m locked up in the carriage we brought,” Azula said with a mischievous grin. “Come on, let’s head to Teba Inn.”

Sennin sighed and followed Azula, hurrying after him with a deep frown.

“Our drivers have experienced twelve losses, which have left their families devastated. Aren’t you worried we’ll endure a robbery?” Sennin asked as he caught up with Azula.

“I’m worried. I am scared of riding that carriage to Genad. But we don’t have a choice. We need to stop the robberies from happening. I think my plan will help us discover who is doing this. In any case, I also agree with Magnus’s suggestion. We need to find someone strong enough to help us fight back.”

“Someone like whom?”

Azula reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver piece. It was a pure silver coin. The first silver coin Azula ever made from a blade he forged at sixteen years old. He kept it with him for inspiration and good luck.

“Magnus suggested finding a lieutenant we can buy,” Azula said as he kept walking.

The trick was to find the right person. A lieutenant who was loyal to the empire. One who would help them fight thieves without demanding more than their agreed price.

Otherwise, Azula’s plan to catch the thieves would be for naught.

They walked by the two women who were now actively selling the cheap beaded jewelry on their wooden stands. Azula ignored the pair and joined the foot traffic on the main road leading to the center of the port town.

“Sennin, don’t sulk,” Azula said when he glanced at his best friend and saw a visible frown and a pout on his lips. “I’ll buy you fried fish and sweet buns. Let’s fill our stomachs.”

Sennin clapped excitedly at the mention of fried fish and hurried to keep up with Azula’s easy stride.

*****

3-2

Raithion sat on the balcony on the second floor at the Teba Inn. He had a great view of the busy port city below. The main street connected the town with the docks. The balcony at the Teba Inn was the best spot to see who was coming and going. Sipping mild grape wine, Raithion thought about Basileus Dio and his father’s instructions. According to the findings of their ongoing investigation, the forged silver coins had ore that was only found in the Sura mines.

The simplest way to end the case was to arrest the Sura Clan and have them confess their counterfeiting crime. This was the most straightforward end.

However, they discovered a rumor when Raithion’s legion arrived at the Endless Port. Someone had robbed six Sura cargo carriages. The clan had lost twelve skilled drivers and was now concerned about their safety on the road. Everyone at the port worried because they made money through the Sura clan’s enterprises.
From port town inns to market fruit stands, everyone had a small connection to the Sura. If the clan suffered, they did too.

Curious about this development, Raithion asked Haedor to follow up on the robbery rumors with the magistrate. He hoped the Sura clan had reported a case of theft. These disruptions in their supply would exonerate the Sura Clan from the counterfeiting case.

Raithion did not want to see an entire clan pay for the sins of the few.

Shaking his head, he returned his gaze to the main dining hall beyond the balcony when he heard a commotion. Two of his principal officers sat eating at one of the tables. They were waiting for Haedor with him. The rest of their legion brothers were downstairs in various stages of rest. The two officers in the dining hall stood to greet Haedor, who had returned from his errand.

Raithion watched them salute Haedor and then return to their meal.

Haedor crossed the dining room and came out to the balcony to pull out the seat opposite Raithion.

“The port magistrate is a piece of work,” Haedor said as he settled. “He was asleep when I arrived and had not heard the rumors of theft. He acts as though a robbery would inconvenience him if asked to investigate it.”

Raithion poured a glass of wine for Haedor and pushed it across the table.

“Take a sip. Relax,” Raithion said. “The manager of this inn says no one in the town trusts the port magistrate to help. He is a lazy, corrupt fellow. There is a possibility the Sura did not bother to report to him.”

“They should,” Haedor said after taking two sips of the weak wine. “It protects them later when we bring this case before the Basileus at the Imperial Court.”

"First, we have to find them to convince them to make the report,” Raithion said. “I’ve yet to spot someone of consequence in the crowd. I hope the Sura Clan has not given up or gone hiding.”

Haedor’s stomach growled, and Raithion grinned.

It was almost midday. Of course, Haedor was hungry.

“Order food,” Raithion said, nodding to the inn's interior. “I’ll have what you’re having.”

“Yes, General,” Haedor said, getting up fast. “We should change the wine to tea, especially if we need to chase after the clan later.”

“Do that,” Raithion said, drinking the last wine in his goblet. He handed over the goblet and the bottle to Haedor.

Once his lieutenant left, Raithion returned to staring at the street. He gave his attention to anyone he saw with strawberry-blonde hair. So far, he had seen an older woman with two young boys following her. A young woman too focused on her destination as she carried a large basket on her back. And a blacksmith hauling his tools to the docks. None of them had seemed attached to the Sura cargo carriages or the transportation of burnt ore.

Raithion sighed and sat back in his chair. He should knock on the Sura port station and see if they would answer his questions.

He pondered the merits of this plan when he caught a shimmer of gold and white hair in the midday sun. The shimmer drifted between the crowds of people walking on the main street. Raithion sat up, focusing on where he saw that distinctive color.

The crowd parted to reveal a young Sura man standing by a fruit stand. Raithion could not help watching him with interest.

The Sura man was on the short side, five foot eight. He was lean, and his hair was in a messy top ponytail. His hair was long to his shoulders. He wore dark trousers, a cream tunic, and a long leather coat. The sleeves of the leather coat were decorated with shiny metal. Raithion wished he could get a closer look at the designs.

The young Sura man had a handsome profile. He smiled easily as he talked to his companion, a taller man with short, curly hair the same color. They browsed the fruit stand briefly and then moved away from the stall.

Raithion frowned as the young man tossed a silver coin into the air and caught it. He did it with ease, unworried that a passerby would steal it from him. He walked with ease as though he had no reason to hurry.

The young Sura man’s companion was the opposite. He looked nervous and kept glancing behind them. His glimpses were discrete, but Raithion could tell an uneasy character from a distance. So, he, too, assessed the crowd behind the pair.

“Interesting,” Raithion murmured when he saw two women following the pair without attempting to hide.

They kept the same pace as the two Sura men, keeping them in their line of sight.

Haedor returned with a tray laden with food. He placed it on the table and started arranging a bowl of beef stew and bread for Raithion.

“Look,” Raithion said, nodding to the youth approaching the inn. “The young man with messy Sura hair. He’s strolling in the inn’s direction.”

Haedor found him and nodded.

“Now, look fifteen paces behind him,” Raithion said. “What do you see?”

Haedor watched the crowd in silence for a moment and then nodded.

“He is being followed,” Haedor said.

“Looks like we’ve found the start of our Sura case,” Raithion said with a grin.

“Should our brothers get him?” Haedor asked, starting to turn to give the order.

“No.” Raithion kept watching the young Sura man who was approaching the inn. “Let’s watch for now. Sit, Haedor. Eat your food. Let’s not spook him.”
Haedor frowned, but he nodded and sat in his chair. He picked up his spoon and ate, gazing at the Sura pair walking toward them.

Raithion watched the young Sura man approach the inn, ignoring his food. He frowned when the young man stopped at the entrance of the Teba Inn. His companion followed suit, and Raithion held his breath, hoping…hoping the young man would choose to enter the Teba Inn.

“Why is he hesitating?” Haedor asked as he took a healthy bite of his beef stew.

“Where did we leave our horses?” Raithion asked, curious.

“Out front,” Haedor said and then groaned. “The brothers are sitting on the chairs arranged at the front. They might look too fierce and sprawled around with their weapons. I’ll go—”

“No,” Raithion said, returning his gaze to the young Sura man at the inn's entrance. “Let’s see what he does.”

“General, no civilian is willing to get that close to the legion when they’re so clearly armed.”

“Isn’t it more interesting if a civilian were to enter this inn with all the brothers guarding the entrance,” Raithion said with a soft chuckle.

As though to prove his theory, the young Sura man entered the small compound outside the inn. His smile was wide as he greeted the fifteen soldiers enjoying their food at the front tables.

“Good day, gentlemen,” the young Sura man said. His voice was cordial, an enticing medium tenor, with a playful note. “Welcome to Endless Port.”

The legion brothers nodded, returning the greeting with various nods, waves, and cordial greetings.

Raithion smiled and picked up his spoon as the young man entered the inn. He picked up his spoon and took a bite of his beef stew, waiting.

The main dining room downstairs was not usable.

Raithion’s officers had packed their luggage on the tables there.

So…the Sura pair would have no choice but to come upstairs.

Raithion grinned wider as he waited.

****

Azula worked on controlling the anxious energy growing inside him. He was curious whether good or bad luck made him consider coming to the Teba Inn. Usually, the place would be filled with travelers from other states on their way to the port or returning from elsewhere.

Today, however, it looked like they had run into strange luck. The inn was filled with legion brothers and possibly their leader. Their uniforms were peculiar. Not the red and black colors prevalent with the port magistrate’s garrison. This new batch was dressed in greens and black.

Azula shuddered.

There was a common tale often heard in the beer inns in the evening. A story about the Legion Brothers from Draeya County: strong and ruthless, they maintained peace in the main Naga State town.

The Naga State King was so impressed with their bravery that he gave them the mandate to cleanse the lands of any wrong without question.

A fierce young general who had gained his rank at a young age led these fierce brothers.

They called him the Draeya General. He was reportedly cold and fierce like his soldiers, but his loyalty to his family was faultless. Women in Naga wished to have the Draeya General as their brother or husband.

Azula hoped the legion brothers at the front of the inn did not belong to the Draeya General. Meeting the Draeya General would be equivalent to facing a man with ties to the highest authority in the empire.

Azula shuddered again at the thought. He loved his tiny existence. He prayed the legion brothers belonged to a small lieutenant who would not mind taking a few coins to protect a carriage.

The inn’s main dining hall was filled with large crates, and the tables moved to the side. Azula paused as he wondered if they could get a meal here.

The inn’s manager hurried to his side from the kitchen.

“Vandra,” Azula said, smiling at the inn manager. “Are you getting booted out by the landlord? What is with all the crates on the tables?”

“Ay! Master Doriel, you left the island! I’m honored you would come for a meal in our inn,” Vandra said in greeting. “Don’t worry about these tables; let’s take you to the second floor. There is space there for you and Sennin. Why didn’t you say you would be coming to town today? We would have planned a nice meal for everyone in your crew. Are you here with Lord Magnus?”

“The trip was unplanned,” Azula said, shaking his head, his gaze still on the crates on the dining tables. “Lord Magnus is still at home today, too lazy to cross the seas. Our people will bring the fruit delivery cart later. We brought two crates of the mangoes you like.”

“That’s good news,” Vandra said, patting Azula’s left arm. “I know you crave sweet and sour roasted chicken. I’ll ensure the kitchen makes you a good one for your lunch today.”

“I promised Sennin fried fish and a sweet bun,” Azula said as the manager led them to the stairs.

“Fried fish and a sweet bun for Sennin,” Vandra nodded, “and a nice pot of fresh tea. It will fill you up.”

“Vandra knows how to treat guests,” Azula said with a quick grin, then lowered his voice. “Who leads the legion brothers at the front? Is there a new lieutenant joining the magistrate’s office?”

“Heavens, no,” Vandra stopped at the staircase landing, glancing at the second floor with a wary gaze. He gripped Azula’s left arm tight. “No matter what you do, don’t go to the balcony. The legion brothers downstairs belong to someone terrifying. He and his lieutenant are having a meal up here.”

“Oh?” Azula frowned and then lowered his voice in a whisper. “Who could be so scary as to make you worry, Vandra?”

“The Draeya General,” Vandra said, matching Azula’s whisper.

Azula felt his anxiety rise another notch.

Damn it, he would need to go to another place in search of an easy pack of legion brothers. His shoulders slumped with distress. There was no way to buy off a decorated general.

Sennin, sensing Azula’s disappointment, stepped around to talk to Vandra.

“No wonder you don’t have other guests in the inn,” Sennin said, urging Azula to move when Vandra continued upstairs. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll have our meal in peace and then head out. We have a lot undone, and the sun won’t stay still.”

“Yes, yes,” Vandra agreed. “Our chef makes the best sweet and sour roast chicken. Young Master Doriel will not be disappointed.”

They reached the second floor, and Vandra led them to a round table on the opposite side of the balcony. He chose a table near an open window. Azula looked out and saw the magistrate’s compound two streets away.

“You have a good rest. I’ll get someone to bring you water and warm towels to wipe your hands.”

Vandra hurried away, leaving them to settle.

Azula slid into the chair closest to the window while Sennin looked around the empty dining hall.

“Only the Draeya General would empty such a popular inn,” Sennin sighed. “On the plus side, those two women will not follow us here. No one in their right mind will want to provoke this wild pack. You know this places you in the mad case category. Why did you want to come in here again?”

“I hoped the legion brothers were under a lieutenant. Lieutenants are easier to talk to. They also don’t mind making a little money,” Azula said, resting his elbows on the table. He placed his chin on his left palm and studied the magistrate’s compound.

“Generals are harder to handle. You never know what side they stand on. Maybe I should do as Papa says. Then, I’ll have an excuse to run into a few officers at the magistrate’s compound.”

“Azula, the lot in the magistrate’s compound is likely to stab us in the back before we leave the port heading to the capital,” Sennin sighed. “Why don’t we find Tingyu? He has a nice group of mercenaries that are quite good at defending.”

“No,” Azula shook his head. “We can’t afford to owe Tingyu’s mercenaries a favor. Not when we’re facing thefts from an unknown person. Maybe some of the mercenaries he runs are part of the robberies.”

“True, I hadn’t thought of that,” Sennin sighed and stared out the window. His gaze was on the magistrate’s compound, too.

“I suppose our only option is as you say,” Sennin said. “Heavens, I hope we don’t have to deal with the port magistrate. Let’s hope we meet a nice lieutenant at the entrance into that compound.”

“Mm, may our luck hold,” Azula said with a nod as he stared out the window.

The sound of a chair scraping the wood floor on the balcony drew Azula’s attention away from the magistrate’s compound.

Azula sat up and turned in the direction of the balcony. The terrace doors were all open. There were no curtains or screens to hide any diners who chose to sit on the balcony. Azula caught a glimpse of rich black fabric hanging on the back of a chair.

Draeya General was a mythical beast.

People talked about him in tales and whispers, but none described his face or knew him.

Azula frowned.

Now that he did not need to ask for help from the legion’s head, he could take a good look at the mythical Draeya General. See if he was human or if a horn grew on his head, making him so fierce. In any case, it would be a great tale to tell Alva, Kalas, and Alise.

Curiosity drove him out of his chair, much to Sennin’s surprise.

“Azula?” Sennin started.

Azula waved him off and walked across the sizeable second dining hall to the open terrace door. He stopped on the edge of the exit, checking the balcony. He paused when he saw the striking man sitting alone at a square table near the balcony railing.

Green, green eyes met his. Azula forced his feet to keep moving, keenly aware of that green gaze following him as he stepped onto the balcony. The man at the square table wore a fine white tunic with an unbuttoned black legion jacket over it. The heavy embroidery on the jacket's cuffs was gold, with five lines of intricate designs to mark the wearer as a decorated general. The general had mink black hair. It was so dark it surpassed the jacket he wore. Long and neat, the strands were caught in a high ponytail with a sturdy, large, round gold clip secured with a thick pin.

Azula took in the general’s face and felt eternally disadvantaged. He had a penchant for harsh-faced men. Chiseled jaw dusted with a dark beard shadow, sharp, keen eyes, lips in a hard line, all put together in this harsh, cold, forbidding face that made the strongest men shudder or bend to the general’s will.

One look and Azula knew this one never failed in ordering men to do his will.

Which meant anyone Draeya General bowed his head to would have to be stronger and much more powerful.

Azula’s heart skipped with violence.

Vandra was right.

It was best not to engage. Azula could not walk into a pit with his eyes wide open. He turned toward the terrace doors, determined to run away.

“Wait.”

Draeya General’s voice was a booming bass. Unrelenting and hard to ignore, the sound traveled to the core. So dangerous.

Azula closed his eyes as he stopped. He took a deep breath to calm his speeding heart and turned to face the general.

“Yes?”

“Are you leaving after having a good look?”

Azula imagined Draeya General did not get people looking at him without a purpose. Pasting on a smile, Azula clasped his hands behind his back and shrugged.

“They said Draeya General was having a meal on the balcony,” Azula said. “I heard Draeya General has a horn growing on his forehead, making him fierce. I came out to have a good look.”

Draeya General stared at him, green eyes wide with shock.

“Now that I’ve seen nothing to talk about, I’m leaving,” Azula said, turning away again.

“Wait. Stop right there.”

Azula stopped and turned to face the striking general.

“Are you always this bold?” Draeya General asked. “Walking up to a general and joking around like this, aren’t you worried I’ll arrest you?”

“For what?” Azula asked, his right brow rising in question.

“Being so outrageous?”

“Then Draeya General would seem very petty.”

“Insolent.”

Azula grinned, gave Draeya General a wink, and started to turn away again.

“Stop.”

“What? What now?” Azula asked, looking at Draeya General. “I’ve already answered your questions. What?”

Draeya General closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to keep calm.

“You’re from the Sura Clan,” Draeya General said. “What’s your name?”

Azula debated lying about his name for a full minute. Then he thought of Vandra, who was hoping to run a quiet business selling meals and good wine. He sighed. If the trouble was to come from this meeting anyway, then it was better with him than with Vandra.

“Azula Doriel.”

“You’re the Sura Chieftain’s son.”

“Draeya General knows much,” Azula said, all sense of playfulness escaping at the mention of his father’s station. The general was well-informed.

“I should know this much,” Draeya General said. “I have important business to discuss with your clan.”

“What kind of business would we have to discuss with the Draeya General?” Azula asked. “Our meeting is a coincidence. For all you know, I might have decided to eat down the street. Then, you’d have met one of our people—”

“Perhaps,” Draeya General cut him off with a nod. “I would still have found you for this talk, Chieftain’s son. I suggest you join me at this table.”

“Or else?” Azula asked, frowning now. He unclasped his hands as anxiety grew.

A strong hand gripped his left arm, and Azula jumped as he turned to find a hulk of a man standing behind him. The new face was less striking than the Draeya General. The new man held a sweet bun in his left hand. He ate it as though he had not had food for years. The enthusiasm with which the sweet bun was ending made Azula’s stomach growl in protest.

“Excuse me, Master Doriel, I’ll help you have a seat at the table,” the newcomer said. “Or else, I’ll break your arm for being so insolent to the general.”

“Oh,” Azula said, his gaze on the strong hand holding his upper left arm.

After wielding a hammer for ages in his workshop, Azula could not say he was a weak man. However, the hand holding his arm felt like it might break iron with a single twist. It was warrior-forged strength grown from a place of pure violence.

Azula had no doubt the newcomer would follow through on his threat.

“Okay, okay,” Azula said, smiling at the new face. “Let’s not get so serious. I’ll have a seat if you let go of my arm. You two already caught me. I’m caught between you. Where can I go?”

“Indeed,” Draeya General said, with a slight shake of his head. “Let him go. Chieftain’s son will have a seat.”

“My name is Azula. Chieftain’s son sounds like a mouthful. Stop calling me that,” Azula said, shaking his head. “You who are threatening to ruin my arm should at least tell me your name.”

“Why?” the hulk of a man asked.

“So I know who to curse as I get through the pain,” Azula said, glaring at the new face.

Draeya General chuckled, drawing Azula’s gaze.

“Are you going to watch him bully me?” Azula asked. “I thought you were a decorated general? Where is your care for the small citizens?”

“The small citizen is a handful,” Draeya General said. “I need my lieutenant, Haedor, to help manage you.”

Azula scoffed as Haedor pushed him to the empty chair at the square table. He cursed his curiosity when Haedor let go of his arm. Azula spent a few minutes adjusting his long jacket as he settled.

“I don’t know about managing. I call this abusing the small citizens,” Azula said. “If I knew where they complain about you, I’d send in my two cents.”

“Thank goodness I have not heard of a magistrate’s office that will take a complaint against me,” Draeya General said. “Tell me something, Azula Doriel.”

“What must you know that you are pushing me around like this?” Azula asked, scowling at Haedor, who stayed standing behind him.

“The rumor is that the Sura is getting their cargo carriages robbed. Why hasn’t anyone from the clan reported the thefts to the port magistrate?” Draeya General asked, folding his arms against his chest.

Azula stared at the Draeya General for a full minute, then broke into a loud, amused laugh. He laughed long and hard until there were tears in his eyes. Azula used the corner of his sleeve to wipe his eyes and shook his head at Draeya General’s joke.

Azula looked at the Draeya General when he was calmer and blinked when he found the general frowning at him.

“What?” Azula asked. “Do you know you frown often? It’s not good for your complexion. The lines on your forehead could turn permanent. Draeya General, you might not have a horn on your forehead, but frown lines will not serve you. No matter how striking you look.”

“Insolent,” Haedor hammered the table with his right fist, and Azula sighed with a sigh.

“That must be a favorite word,” Azula said, shaking his head with a sigh. “Listen, I don’t understand your question, Draeya General. What does the theft of our carriages have to do with the port magistrate? It’s not like he will help us find them.”

“And how do you intend to find your stolen carriages?” Draeya General asked.

“That’s my problem to solve, isn’t it?” Azula asked. “What does it have to do with Draeya General?”

Haedor started to slam on the table again, but Azula grabbed the lieutenant’s thick right wrist.

“Stop,” Azula said, mimicking Draeya General’s booming tone from earlier. He grinned when he nailed it right, and Haedor paused. “Vandra spent a great deal of effort to construct these tables. You breaking them will only add to his expenses. Lieutenant Haedor, why don’t you reserve this effort for the legion’s arenas?”

“Inso—” Haedor started.

“Insolent,” Azula completed for him, looking up at the big giant of a man with a wide grin.

Haedor’s physique was all thick arms, bulky chest, trim waist, and firm thighs. He was the perfect Legion soldier.

Azula worried about his sanity as he teased the seasoned warrior who could break his arms.

“You might need to find a new word,” Azula said. “My parents have exhausted themselves with it since I was ten. It’s been a decade, and I have only gotten worse. I’m afraid I thrive on insolence.”

“I might break him,” Haedor said, shaking his head. “I leave him to you, General.”

Haedor walked away from the square table, and Azula stared at the Draeya General. Haedor headed into the main dining hall, and Azula hoped Sennin was not too nervous facing Draeya General’s lieutenant.

Azula sighed and met Draeya General’s cold green gaze.

“What now?” he asked when Draeya General stayed silent.

“I’m trying to calculate how much trouble you get into in a day,” Draeya General said. “It surprises me that you’re alive.”

Azula chuckled and shook his head.

“You and my parents would get along.”

Azula’s stomach growled, and he brought his right hand to rub the ache of hunger with a frown.

“Listen, Draeya General, no one in this Endless Port trusts the magistrate. He is more likely to help the thieves robbing us than help my people find the missing cargo carriages.”

“Then why did you walk into this inn?” Draeya General asked.

“Huh?”

“You saw my officers taking up the seats at the front of the inn. Most citizens walked on and went to find their meal elsewhere. Why did you not walk away? Why did you enter this inn despite the legion brothers downstairs?”

“I’ll be honest,” Azula said, holding Draeya General’s gaze.

“I’d like that,” Draeya General said with an expectant nod.

“It was an attack of insanity,” Azula said, keeping his tone very solemn. “Insanity took over, and I led my best friend into a lair of alphas. I should have ignored the urge. Don’t worry, the insanity can be cured. I promise to mend my ways from now on. Can I leave?”

“Inso—,” Draeya General started, then cut himself off as Azula grinned at the reaction.

“I could have you arrested,” Draeya General said, glaring at Azula.

“On what grounds? Being hungry? How ridiculous of a legion general to bully a small citizen. I might live on Sura Island, but I know my rights. I have done no wrong—”

“You’ve insulted me multiple times.”

“Insulted? What insulted?” Azula widened his eyes. “Draeya General, the most I’ve done is call out your incurable need to bully people. My stomach is clearly growling with hunger as I sit here. Do you even care that I might need a meal the next minute? What if I collapse with hunger? My people will blame you for letting me starve in front of your eyes. What noble career is this you’re—mm—?”

A sweaty palm covered his mouth, and Azula turned to glare at the person who would dare. He stopped struggling when he saw a petrified Sennin standing next to him.

“Draeya General, I apologize for my best friend,” Sennin said, his voice shaky as he bowed his head low toward the general. “He’s just worried about our clan. He doesn’t know how to filter his words. I’m sorry if he has insulted you. Please, let him off.”

Azula tried to shake Sennin’s hand off his mouth to protest the apology, but Sennin would not have it.

“I can let him off if you tell me what is going on with your stolen cargo carriages,” Draeya General said after making Sennin stand with his head bowed for close to five minutes.

Azula glared at the annoying general and almost bit Sennin’s finger when Draeya General smirked.

“Answering Draeya General, our clan has recently suffered six losses,” Sennin said, his voice shaky. “We hope to save our current orders by replacing the stolen cargo. Young Master Doriel is looking to hire legion officers who can help protect our convoy on our journey to the capital.”

“You’re hoping to buy protection,” Draeya General said, his gaze knowing as he studied Azula.

“Yes,” Sennin said with a quick nod. “Master Doriel thought a lieutenant was the head of the legion downstairs. We are sorry. He did not mean to bother you.”
Azula managed to fight Sennin’s palm off his mouth.

“Draeya General need not bother with this information,” Azula said, pushing his chair back as he stood.

“I can offer help,” Draeya General said, shocking Azula and Sennin.

“Why?” Azula asked after a moment.

“Why not?” Draeya General asked, a charming smile curving his lips.

Azula could not help but stare at the enticing curve. How amazing. A simple smile transformed the Draeya General into a painfully handsome man. So handsome that Azula wanted to shift closer and touch the general’s smiling lips.

Argh, why could he never find the will to ignore such striking, dangerous men?

“Draeya General is very busy,” Sennin said. “Our Sura Clan cannot ask you to help us with this trivial matter.”

“Trivial?” Draeya General asked, his smile disappearing, the expression on his face turning cold again.

Azula sighed.

“Theft is never trivial,” Draeya General said. “Theft of a cargo carriage carrying burnt ore is not a small matter. You must report this kind of theft to the magistrate to protect yourselves. To hear that your clan has lost six carriages of burnt ore is very worrying. This ore is then used for sinister means…like counterfeiting silver.”

“No,” Azula shook his head. “Our ore does not make silver coins.”

“Your people might not, but others can,” Draeya General said, his green eyes glaring. “Chieftain’s son, don’t you know the consequences of counterfeiting silver? Do you know what happens to a clan found interfering with the economy this way?”

Sennin shook his head, but Azula did not need instruction on what counterfeiting cases dealt to the perpetrators.

Draeya General did not wait for them to give him an answer.

“The imperial court has wiped out entire clans on suspected counterfeiting. What makes you think your Sura would be different?”

Azula shuddered and wished he had not stepped out to the balcony to glimpse the Draeya General. This man was no fun at all.

“No one in my clan would ever betray us that way,” Azula said, speaking from a place of truth. He trusted his family and his clan. They lived for each other. If one of them made a misstep, they all suffered.

“You’re a very exhausting individual,” Draeya General stated. “I’ve warned you. I’ve asked you to report to the magistrate and wasted words for your good. Now, ask me for help.”

“We can’t afford your help,” Azula said.

“I won’t charge you anything,” Draeya General said.

Azula narrowed his gaze, wary of gifts from a powerful general.

“Why?”

“Why can’t I help? Isn’t it looking after a small citizen, as you put it?” Draeya General asked.

Azula scoffed, studying Draeya General for a full minute, and then, because he genuinely could not keep having words with this man, he sighed.

“Draeya General. Do what you want,” Azula said. “I have no power to stop you. What I do have the power to do is leave this inn. I have not committed a crime. Your legion brothers cannot detain us. Do you agree?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Azula said and took Sennin’s right arm. “We’re leaving. Please, excuse us.”

Azula led Sennin back into the main dining hall. They found their table was laden with food. Knowing he could not leave Vardan with the expense, Azula led them to eat first. After all, they had come in for a meal.

Sennin hesitated when they got to their table.

Azula started to ask why, but then Draeya General pulled a chair next to their table and sighed.

“What?” Draeya General asked, smiling at Azula as he sat down. “You told me to do what I want. I want to follow you. I must follow you to learn more about these thieves.”

“Then, it’s your choice,” Azula said with a nod as he watched Draeya General sit back and fold his arms against his chest.

Azula sank into his chair and reached for the sweet and sour roasted chicken platter. He cut off a large drumstick and took a bite. Ignoring Draeya General, he smiled at Sennin, who watched the general with a wary gaze.

“Sennin, eat your fish, or you’ll be starving later,” Azula said, enthusiastically chewing his drumstick. “Vandra’s chef does make the best sweet and sour roast chicken. This is very good.”

Sennin opened his mouth to tease him but stopped, conscious of the general sitting with them.

Azula scowled at the general as he chewed.

“Do you have to sit here with us?” Azula asked when he swallowed.

“I’m afraid you’ll run out of here if I don’t keep you in sight,” Draeya General said.

Azula scoffed and glanced behind him to see Lieutenant Haedor return to the main dining room with three legion brothers.

“I wonder how we would manage that with your lieutenant so enthusiastic."

Azula shook his head and concentrated on eating. He glanced out the window and caught a glimpse of the magistrate’s compound. At least with a general in tow or following him, he would not have to worry about getting a lieutenant from the magistrate.

A goblet filled with water was pushed to his right elbow.

“Here, you should drink between such rapid bites,” Draeya General said. “It would be disappointing to have you choke at our first meeting.”

Azula started cursing at him, but then Sennin kicked his left foot under the table, and he grumbled back the words. He glared at Sennin and then reached for the goblet. He gave Draeya General a faux smile.

“How gracious of you,” Azula said as he sipped the water. “Don’t strain yourself."

“I wouldn’t,” Draeya General said.

“Then don’t sit here, and let us keep you from your busy life,” Azula answered.

“You’re the reason for my busy life,” Draeya General said.

“We don’t even know each other,” Azula said.

“I’m Draeya General. What else can I do but protect the small citizen in need?”

“I’m not in need.”

“Aren’t you? Or do you want to pay me a fee? How much do you offer the lieutenants you hire?”

Azula frowned, wondering if paying legion officers for security was legal. Everyone at the port did it, but it was considered bribery in the capital. What would a decorated general think of the price he paid? Would it get him in trouble? Azula sighed and once again regretted approaching the stupid balcony.

“I’m not telling you,” Azula said. “Since you’re following us of your own accord, why must I pay?”

“Shrew.”

“Tyrant.”

“Insolent shrew.”

“Can’t-come-up-with-another-word-idiot general,” Azula said, gaining a kick from Sennin under the table.

Azula groaned and glared at Sennin.

“He started it. Why don’t you kick him, too?”

Sennin sighed and turned to Draeya General.

“I apologize on his behalf,” Sennin said.

Azula took a healthy bite of his chicken and ignored them both, wondering how it had come to this. He swallowed too fast and triggered a choking cough. The goblet of water was pressed into his right hand, and he met amused green eyes with a put-upon sigh.

What should he do now that he had the attention of a glorified Draeya General?

*****