Blades of Ashes - 2. Chapter 2

Ch 2-1

A majestic mountain stood in the middle of the Sura Island. Under this mountain, a series of tunnels existed. These tunnels were built in the hundreds of years the Sura Clan had called the island home. Generations came, passed their knowledge to the youngsters, and moved on. Youngsters grew up and taught the next generation. The cycle continued until mining and working with ore became a way of life for the Sura.

The Sura Clan lived with deep loyalties to family. Theirs was a community based on family first, no matter the situation. The members of the clan lacked for nothing. There were no restrictions on love and marriage, ambition, or spirit. They supported each other without question.

Hence, the Sura Clan nurtured skilled jewelers, tool artisans, weapon forgers, talented blacksmiths, and many more. The only thing their chieftain, Marius Doriel, worried about was their small number compared to the other clans in the Lyria Empire. The Sura Clan was only two thousand five hundred and twenty-three souls strong. To every Sura Clan member’s dismay, Marius constantly pushed to encourage marriage and childbearing.

It was lucky the passionate chieftain had moved to stay in the capital for the sake of their trade.

Marius lived with five hundred Sura people in the capital city. This group endured his nagging to procreate. Weddings were a usual practice during days of rest at Marius’ main home. He even footed the wedding bill if a couple approached him intending to marry and could not afford it.

The Sura who remained on the island had an easier time, as they lived as they wished. However, the marriage bug caught the Sura quite early. Every month, the assistant chieftain hosted a marriage ceremony at the main hall in the center of the Sura Village on the island. Everyone hoped their numbers would grow and allow Marius some peace of mind.

Marius watched a young couple exchange rings before him and clapped when they smiled at each other before they kissed. He smiled wide, too, and nodded as the guests in his hall erupted into wild cheers, toasting the young couple’s happiness.

The couple ended their kiss, and their peers pulled them to the large circle in the middle of the room for a dance. It warmed Marius’s heart to see a new pair start a family in his clan.

“Have a drink, Marius,” Lasma said. “Come sit with me and let the young ones dance.”

Lasma was his wife, and they had been married for twenty-five years. They gave the clan two children. A girl named Alise was the next chieftain. Alise was twenty-four years old. And their son, Azula, who was only twenty.

Of his two children, Marius worried about Azula the most. His son was a skillful clan warrior and a talented blacksmith. Azula ran wild and preferred life at Sura Mountain, swimming in the lake where their ancestral home stood and eating sweet and sour chicken roasted by his dear godfather, Magnus.

Marius sometimes blamed his second cousin, Magnus, for allowing Azula such unbridled freedom. He was convinced Magnus was the reason Azula shunned any attempts to civilize him. He could only dream of seeing Azula dressed in formal robes and standing in a room like this without causing trouble.

“Thinking about Azula?” Lasma asked, sitting next to him.

“How did you know?”

“You always frown when you think of Azula,” Lasma said, pressing the pad of her right index finger on his forehead. “He is young, only twenty years of age. He does good work running our ancestral home and the mines without us. Give him time.”

“I hope daily that he will be able to support Alise in her work.”

“Alise is strong on her own,” Lasma said, her gaze shifting to their daughter across the room.

Alise stood surrounded by the members of the chief’s council, two men and two women. They looked in deep discussion. Alise spoke, and the others listened to her with rapt attention.

“She grows to look like you every day,” Marius said, studying his eldest daughter.

Like everyone in the Sura clan, Alise had long strawberry-blonde hair. It grew long, and she kept it in a tight, braided ponytail. Alise had green eyes, an oval face, fair skin, and a slender figure. She was five feet three, but her personality more than made up for the lack of height.

Alise wore a beautiful light-yellow dress with long skirts and a gold knitted belt at her waist. The oval ilmenite jewel hanging at the end of the belt was the only indication of her station. Her smile was ready. Although when she was discussing business, it rarely made an appearance.

“She is managing the clan’s affairs,” Lasma said wistfully.

“Do you think she will choose her husband soon?” Marius asked, wondering when he was going to get to hold grandchildren.

Lasma chuckled.

“You told her you did not like Yemin,” Lasma said. “Alise and Yemin have been close for a year.”

Marius huffed at the mention of the strong warrior who helped them run the workshops in the capital city. Yemin was tall at six feet. He forged the best swords, second only to Azula, but he was conceited.

Marius worried he would make trouble for Alise if they married.

“Why can’t she choose Juya?” Marius asked, glancing at the young man standing next to Alise. “He is smart, manages our accounts, and can tell apart precious stones with a single look. He dresses well and is part of the council, so he understands Alise’s responsibilities.”

“We are Sura, my love,” Lasma said, sitting back. She nibbled on a carrot slice and smiled. “We follow our hearts when it comes to marriage. Don’t look down on Alise’s choice. She’s the only one who knows why Yemin is the right one.”

Marius sighed and shook his head when Lasma handed him a fresh carrot stick from the platter on the table before them.

“You’re right. Look at this: I’ve allowed you to turn me into a rabbit,” Marius complained as he ate the carrot slice.

“I’m nurturing your health,” Lasmas said. “When Alise comes to you with Yemin, promise to give them your consent.”

Marius grumbled, but he agreed with a nod. The side door opened, and he turned to see his secretary rushing to him. He looked worried.

“What is it, Torak?” Marius asked.

Torak sighed as he came to a stop next to Marius. He was dressed down in leather trousers and a white cotton tunic. Noting the curious gazes everyone was giving him, he took in a deep breath and leaned in closer to Marius and Lasma.

“There has been another robbery,” Torak said. “The third one this past week. This last one makes it six missing cargo carriages in total. We are running short of burnt ore here in the capital. The workshops are behind on orders. The robbers killed the drivers. We must plan two more funerals.”

“Where is Yemin?” Marius asked.

“Yemin is on the route doing his best to guide the search for the six missing cargo carriages. He is also handling the funeral arrangements for the two affected families,” Torak said. “He told me to mention that the thieves might have other motives. The carriages have not made it to Genad City.”

A cloud of anxiety filled Marius’s chest as he glanced at Lasma. He was afraid Yemin was right. The uneasy feeling plaguing Marius since the first robbery of their cargo carriages increased.

“Send a message to Azula,” Marius told Torak, holding Lasma’s gaze. “Have Azula escort the next shipment of burnt ore in person. Tell him to take precautions.”

“Yes, Chief,” Torak said, starting to leave, but then he paused. “What about Yemin and the men on the route?”

“Ask Yemin to concentrate on the funerals,” Marius said, his frown deepening. “They will not find the cargo carriages. Let Azula handle the robbery issue. Yemin should bring me a report of how much ore is left in our workshops when the funerals end. We need him here handling our failed orders.”

“Okay,” Torak hurried off.

Lasma took Marius’s left hand and squeezed.

“This is not the first time we’ve encountered theft,” Lasma said. “But this episode is extreme and vicious. We also cannot find the cargo carriages. What do you think these thieves want?”

“I’m afraid whatever it is does not bode well for the Sura,” Marius said, gazing at Alise.

As though sensing his unease, Alise excused herself from the council members and made her way to their table.

“Another robbery?” Alise asked when she was close enough, keeping her voice low.

“Yes,” Marius said with a grim nod. “We have now lost twelve of our seasoned drivers. The transport team is losing morale.”

Alise leaned on the table. She picked up the tail of her gold belt and played with the woven gold. She bit her lip in thought and then frowned.

“Yemin suspects the ore thefts are tied to the cases of forged silver coins,” Alise said. “It’s a speculation—”

“A dangerous one,” Marius said, sitting up straight as he studied Alise. “We cannot be implicated in silver coin forgery, Alise. Our clan will suffer enormous ruin.”

“I know,” Alise said, shaking her head. “But what if the person robbing our burnt ore is helping the forgers? What should we do?”

“Do the best we can to thwart the culprit’s plan,” Lasma said, answering for Marius. “Help the blacksmiths with inventory in all our workshops. Make sure the ledgers are completed. Melt any molds we have that make small coins. Your dad might need to visit the magistrate’s office to report this case.”

Alise pushed off the table and started to leave.

“Alise,” Marius said, making her stop to look at him. “Yemin is a good man. Ask him to visit our manor for a meal when he has finished with the funerals. Tell him he will like your mother’s sweet and sour chicken. He had better show up if you’re ever to help him braid his hair.”

Alise smiled wide and ran to kiss Marius’s right cheek.

Marius grinned with pleasure.

“Thank you, Papa,” Alise said, then hurried away.

Lasma squeezed Mariu’s hand, and Marius glanced at her.

“Forging silver coins is treason,” Marius said, hoping to ease her concern. “If someone is plotting against us, we need to be careful. Anything could happen. You are right. It’s best to report the stolen burnt ore to the magistrate. I will contact the old Draeya general from Naga County. He is open-minded and may have a solution.”

“He is a good man,” Lasma said. “I’m more concerned for Azula. He will have to face these thieves on the way to the capital. Do you think he will make it?”

Marius smiled.

“Azula outsmarts wild tigers in our mountain. He designed the tracks that run our mines and even the cargo carriages we use. Azula might not catch the thieves, but they will not rob him,” Marius said, his voice filled with pride. “He won’t give them the chance.”

“So much praise, I almost can’t believe you were worried about him earlier,” Lasma said, grinning.

“Azula is Azula,” Marius said, his voice wistful. “I’ll be glad to have him in the capital. Maybe we can get him to wear nice clothes like Juya. I think Azula would look better.”

Lasma chuckled.

“Azula is more likely to kiss Juya for dressing that well.”

“If he would try to behave,” Marius said, “Juya might think of kissing him too.”

Lasma laughed then and shook her head.

“I bet he is neck-deep in mud at the moment, making trouble for Magnus,” Marius speculated.

“Or climbing trees and ripping his tunics,” Lasma countered. “Poor Alva is constantly sewing his clothes.”

“And Kalas and Sennin are always chasing after him, hoping he doesn’t break his legs,” Marius said with a sigh that descended into a chuckle. “I truly do miss him.”

****

Ch 2-2

The sun shone on the lake’s surface, making the water a beautiful azure color. Azula held his breath, sinking deeper into the cold embrace of the lake water. The water was so clear. He could see the light shining on the surface of the lake. The rays fought to light the deep depths below.

Azula sank deeper.

It was so quiet down here. A bubble escaped Azula’s lips. Azula watched it travel to the surface above him. He grinned when the shadow of a boat covered the light.

He waited for a beat, enjoying the silence. Then, an oar struck the surface, making ripples in the water. It seemed that someone was anxious.

Azula kicked his legs, rising to the surface of the lake. He took in a deep breath when he could and let it out, wiping water out of his face with his palms. He pushed his hair back and smiled at the two people leaning over the boat watching him.

“Tell me, are you hiding fish traits? Are you searching for a treasure in this lake? Think carefully before you answer.”

Azula grinned at the woman, who smiled at him as she spoke. He trod water as he studied her familiar face.

Alva was twenty-eight, a mother of two, and her strawberry blonde hair was filled with braids, thanks to her family. Her husband ran the smithy at the Doriel ancestral home while she managed the ancestral house. She took care of Azula’s meals and mended his clothes. He grew up with her and knew her hot temper. He had endured spankings from her when she was sixteen, and he was naughty. She was like his big sister.

Azula truly could not afford to offend her.

“If I say I’m looking for treasure, what happens?” Azula asked, dipping his head back into the water and sweeping his hair away from his face.

“Then tomorrow morning, I’ll make sure Kalas gets men to drag and empty this lake. Surely, an empty lake will help you find the treasure faster,” Alva said.

“Big sis, wouldn’t that mean I’m responsible for the loss of all the fish in this lake?” Azula complained. “Let’s say I’m hiding fish traits and feel at home deep in the water.”

Alva laughed, and Kalas held out his hand to Azula.

“We need to get back,” Kalas said. “A message has come from your father. There has been another robbery.”

Azula forgot his ploy to stay longer in the water and gripped Kalas’s hand. Kalas helped pull him out of the water, and he climbed onto the large, flat passenger boat with a blue canvas shelter. He sat on a bench, took the heavy towel Alva handed him, and used it to dry off.

“What does my father’s message say?” Azula asked, dropping the towel on his lap, knowing Alva would have brought it along.

Azula took the dry white linen tunic Alva held out and wore it with practiced moves. He straightened the long sleeves to his wrists and stood. Alva handed Kalas the pair of clean white linen shorts and a pair of black trousers.

“I’ll get the note,” Alva said, moving to the blue canvas canopy to rummage in the bag she had brought and left on a bench, her back turned to them.

Beyond the blue canvas canopy stood the oarsman steering the flat passenger boat to the private dock behind the Doriel ancestral home. He had also tied the little boat Azula used to come out to the larger one, which now trailed behind them.

Azula removed the wet linen shorts he used for swimming, wiped himself dry, and took the white shorts and trousers from Kalas. He pulled them on with impatience, hopping from side to side.

“Another robbery is bad for business. I’m guessing Papa wants me to deliver the next round, though we can’t keep losing shipments like this,” Azula said, finally pulling up his trousers.

He paused to tie the strings on his trousers and tucked one side of his tunic into them. Grabbing the heavy towel, he did his best to dry his hair. The strawberry blonde hair was braided on the sides, and the top was tied with a leather strip to make a messy ponytail. The length of this ponytail fell to his shoulders. His hair would feel damp for a while yet.

Alva returned, holding a folded letter and a long, heavy, dark wool coat with rabbit fur on the collar. She handed Azula the coat. He wore it because she worried he would catch a cold. He did not bother closing the wooden buttons on the coat and instead sat on the bench and took the letter from his father.

Azula broke the wax seal on the cover of the letter and unrolled the note.

‘There are traps on our usual routes. The enemy marked the cargo carriages. Find a way to bring burnt ore to the city. Trust no one outside the clan. Make haste. The workshops in the city are running low. We will start losing income if we can’t fulfill orders.’

“Someone is out to defame our Sura,” Azula said. “These robberies do not seem simple.”

Azula handed the letter to Kalas to read and picked up his wet linen shorts. Squeezing out excess water, he rolled them into a small bundle and slipped them into the bag Alva held out. He picked up the towel he had used, dried his hands and feet, and then placed the towel in the bag.

He sat, and Alva passed him a pair of knitted black socks and his usual boots.

“Taking a shipment to the capital with this climate is dangerous work,” Kalas said. “You’ll need Sennin and me with you.”

Azula wore his socks and sunk his feet into his warm boots. He tied the laces and sat up, gazing at the still lake’s surface. The sun was still high, but the lake’s depths were dark again. He frowned and shook his head.

“No, you stay here with Magnus and the clan. I’ll take Sennin with me,” Azula said. “If we run into trouble and need help, I can count on you.”

“Very well,” Kalas said, his lips set in a hard line of disapproval.

“Kalas, no matter what is going on in the capital, our most important asset is here,” Azula said, placing his hand on Kalas’s shoulder. “I trust you to protect our home.”

Kalas gave him a swift smile and shook his head.

“There is Lord Magnus,” Kalas reminded him.

“Lord Magnus is the same age as my father,” Azula said with a wide grin. “He is strong, but I don’t expect him to run along the docks to push everyone to action. All he knows is how to give orders. You will make sure they are fulfilled.”

“If he hears you say that about him, he will surely spank you,” Kalas said with a laugh.

“He might, but he knows I’m right,” Azula said. “He’s not young anymore. He needs you to push people around.”

“Right,” Kalas sighed, staring at the letter he held. “Twenty years old, and you sound like a veteran.”

“I should grow up faster because our Sura Mountain is coveted by too many. Protecting this place and our family is not easy,” Azula said, squeezing Kalas’s shoulder. He stood to watch the boat approach the dock behind his beloved home.

“Our burnt ore is precious. Blacksmiths in the capital prefer it because it converts to iron bars with a higher percentage. I don’t have to mention how strong the steel made from our ore is. I can see why some want to take it from us. Six cargo carriages stolen is no small feat.”

“Our enemy is strong,” Kalas said, standing next to Azula, his hands folded against his chest. “We need a good plan.”

“We need a genius plan,” Azula said as the oarsman navigated the boat so that the side of it stopped right at the dock.

“I’ll tell the ten kinsmen to find you,” Alva said as Azula stepped onto the dock and turned to take her hand.

“I will be in Yaitan’s workshop,” Azula said once Alva safely stood on the dock. “Don’t forget to tell Godfather.”

****

Huga Nedin watched his locksmith break the last lock on the Sura cargo carriages. A sigh of relief filled the men around him as the door opened to reveal the pure black ore found only in the Sura Mountain.

The five cargo carriages standing open in their hidden compound had carried enough to fulfill their plans. This sixth carriage would be shared among the mercenaries in Huga’s team. It would fetch a handsome price when sold to blacksmiths outside the capital.

“What do we do with the cargo carriages?” Lian asked, drawing Huga’s gaze.

Lian was his most reliable man. He managed tasks without question. He would only ask about the cargo carriages with a reason.

“Why?” Huga asked.

“They are Sura property,” Lian said. “The clan is actively looking for them. This compound is hidden, but it is not guaranteed to be found. Our plan is still ongoing. We should discard the carriages in a place of convenience.”

“Convenience, you say,” Huga said, smiling as he returned to the open cargo carriage. He reached in and took a piece of the black ore.

He had almost forgotten their true purpose at the thought of their incoming profits. This black ore had a more significant role to play. Lian was right. The stage was coming along nicely, so why not use the carriages too?

Who in the capital did not know what a Sura cargo carriage looked like?

Huga chuckled.

“Lian, you have the best ideas,” Huga nodded. “Find three men to help you move the cargo carriages. Leave them somewhere the Sura Clan can find the carriages, somewhere that works for the grander plan. The yard behind the warehouse they keep in the middle of the capital is great.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Meanwhile, look out for another Sura cargo carriage,” Huga said. “We only needed six, but extra black ore is good for the pocket. They will be sending one out soon to cover the deficit. Now, everyone gets to work! Move this ore to our transport carriage.”

****