85 River King (1/2)
As he breathed in the petrichor air, Corco looked out onto the swamplands around him. Once again, he drew his fur cloak tighter. After they had left Arguna, their surroundings had become increasingly grim. They had chased the retreating winter south, through lower Sinchay and past Qarasi Castle. Finally, they had gone through the Narrow and had boarded a specially prepared funeral boat which had brought them all the way to here. By now they were following the Tunki river all the way to what would become the center of his power. Saniya, a tiny town surrounded by the Chawir swamp.
”Though it may sound presumptuous, it seems to be not much for a king,” the girl to his right said with a cold-induced sniffle. Corco answered with a light sigh before he turned to look over. Without his knowledge, Tamaya di Pluritac had sneaked next to him like a cat.
”It may not look like much, but that's only to the untrained eye.” Corco turned towards the riverbank and the half-frozen bog beyond it. Rather than the snow-white of winter, the surrounding land shone in a dull gray. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the roar of a bear. Already it had woke up from hibernation, driven out of its cave by hunger before the winter was over.
”This is fertile land, maybe the best in all of Medala. You'll see soon enough,” Corco continued.
”Hmmm... still looks like nothing but swamp. And there's no mines either. We've just met a handful of farmers and fishermen, and they complain about land shortage and bandit attacks. Even worse, since we've passed Orocasa, we have yet to meet a single merchant we could tax. What good is land if you're this far off the beaten path? Wouldn't King Corco rather stay... at Qarasi Castle maybe? You could claim the estates to its north and have all the farmland you'll ever want. Or how about Arguna itself? That's a place fit for a king, with all the fun anyone could want to find.”
Tama tilted her head and frowned as she stared out into the gray drabness. At the same time, Corco left another sigh in the path of their travels. If nothing else, he girl was devoted. Fadelio's sisters had proven that with their actions, before and after his arrival in Medala. Still, he would have rather kept one of his own by his side. To Corco's dismay, they were far too spread out for now. Brym was still in Porcero, to take care of their first Medala shop. Atau and Ronnie were south, getting their troops and supplies through Sachay and into Puscanacra. Meanwhile, Dedrick had to stay behind at Qarasi Castle, together with most of his troops. In case the headstrong Pacha woke up from his self-pity and decided to force an ill-advised attack, they had to be ready to defend the Narrow. The eighty men and Dedrick, together with some help from uncle Sonco's warriors, should prove enough to hold off whatever they wanted to throw at them, at least until Corco could reunite with Atau and send up some reinforcements.
As for Fadelio? After his last little stunt, there hadn't really be much of a choice but to create some distance for a while. Even if the king hadn't been angry, and he was, very much so, he would still have to keep up appearances and punish his attendant, at least unless he wanted to see more insubordination disguised as 'help'. Others were well aware of this as well. The disloyal warrior's youngest sister herself rushed in to attack her brother once she got word of his 'betrayal'. Thus, the warrior had to stay behind. Corco needed someone to represent the southern kingdom in the capital anyways. Especially when it came to politics, Fadelio was competent... and he could play the simpleton like no one else. He looked forward to the officials breaking their teeth on his hard shell.
”At least travel has been easy. Surprising that the Villcas and their men wouldn't make more trouble. They would want the power of the south for themselves, wouldn't they?” Just like her brother, Tama showed enough political acumen herself, something she had to learn over the past half year since the emperor's death. According to Fadelio, the spoiled girl hadn't worked a day in her life before then. Thus, it was no surprise that her ability was still shallow.
”True, the lords along the Tunki River are mostly loyal to Cashan, but the good lord Villca is dead now.” With a smile, the king's thoughts went back to the unfortunate accident which had befallen the power hungry lord on the day Corco left the capital, before they turned to the corpse of his uncle in the belly of their boat. At least one part of Fadelio's plan he didn't have a problem with. ”At this point, there's a storm brewing in Cashan. Everyone's posturing to become the next lord of House Villca. And over the years the old baldy has been busy. Two sons from his proper wife, half a dozen from concubines plus various bastards. I heard that one was supposedly a great bandit chief, used by his father to control the waterways and skim some extra silver from the merchants. Make no mistake: the men of the south are a lot more direct than the backstabbing officials in Arguna. Their war of succession is gonna be a bloodbath.”
”So the lords along the way weren't submissive then, they were scared...” Tama finished the thought. At least she was quick to pick up on things, Corco thought with a nod.
”Holed up behind their walls, drawing together their power until they can make a decision who to support. Don't forget that most of the lords haven't returned home yet. Gonna be interesting, that one.”
”King Corcopaca!” Upon the shout, Corco turned to find one of Sonco's warriors, one who would accompany his dead master back home. With a flustered look, the muscular man walked up to them after a short bow.
”Corco is fine. The long names are gonna waste so much time over an entire life...” Corco corrected the man, though he knew that it wouldn't change much for those outside of his circle. Changing attitudes would be difficult. At least he was making progress, Corco thought with a look over the man's arms. He was wearing sleeves on his forearms, with his biceps and tattoos uncovered. After his stunt during the nobles' assembly, this sort of wear had become the newest fad among Sachay warriors. The first change of many, Corco hoped.
”King Corco, there is a barrier in our path!” The panicked warrior pointed towards the ship's bow.
”Wait, what?” Corco asked in confusion.
”We've sent runners, right? Who would be stupid enough to try and stop their own king?” Tama added.
The king, in the meantime, was already on his way towards the bow. He had to see this for himself. Just two of the half-dozen steps up the ship's forecastle deck were enough to free his sight on the waters before them, and on the rickety pontoon which had been built across it.
”Was someone crossing here? Maybe a careless army?” Tama asked from behind.
”What kind of army is gonna cross this place? It's Chawir, one of the least worthwhile territories in all of Medala. You said so yourself,” Corco didn't looking back for his answer. ”Plus, whoever built the thing hasn't left yet.”
Once their vessel had moved closer to the boats and rafts, tied together to form a barrier in the river, Corco could see the tarps and planks which covered many of the vessels. As expected, once they reached a distance of fifty meters or so the covers were thrown aside to reveal a large group of men, bearded and unkempt, with long pikes, hooks and bows in their hands.
”An ambush! King Corco, please retreat downstairs!” the warrior screamed.
”Calm down. It's just a bunch of peasants. You think they're a threat? It's a good chance to make an early mark. Tamaya,” Corco turned around to instruct the girl, but found that she had already left. Annoyed, he ignored the idea for now. The little flourishes really weren't important, dealing with the bandits was. His gaze ran along the riverbank, towards the old trees and into the reed grasses. Considering all he could see and the hiding spots he couldn't, he estimated twenty at most. They might have been attracted by the fancy makeup of their funeral ship, but the warriors hidden within the boat's belly would be a nasty surprise for the greedy outlaws.
”Stop or we'll shoot!” A shout came from their front, from the center of the pontoon. There stood a man in a wide stance, much like the others around him. Not taller, not stronger, not more imposing. 'Unclean' was the word which settled itself in Corco's head. He wondered how this one had ever become the leader of his group.
”Tell the polers to stop,” Corco calmly said with a thought to the men at the stern, who used long wooden poles to propel the boat forward.