The Nattas family,
Relatives & ‘known’ associates
Supplemented
Governor of Novesium, Storm Nattas*
Maja Nattas Veturius (Storm’s ‘daughter’ took her husband’s name.)
Sirio Veturius (Ex-LID scribe, Historian, Cartagen official working in the Academy’s Library.)
Silvio Nattas (Storm’s secret son with Queen Miranda.)**
Bianca ‘Nattas’ Veturius (born in the spring of 195NC, Sirio’s daughter with Maja.)
Calvin ‘Uncle Vinnie’ Nattas (Third cousin, a Lesia failed leather merchant & gambler.)
Petty Baron of Moon’s Haven, Parkor Nattas (nephew, Jenny’s son.)
Jenny Nattas (Storm’s sister, deceased in 186? NC from ‘white fever’.)
Sudi ‘Lotus’ (Right hand man, licensed merchant, suspected murderer & torturer, ships owner and second in command of the ‘Business’.)
Titus Balbus (former pirate, soldier of fortune, deceased.)
Captain Gerwig Cornerblum (Retired Alden City Guard officer, Novesium Guards Commander.)
Moore (Half-Nord enforcer, leader of ‘Reformed’ company. A private army unit.)
Bryce (Nord suspected murderer and enforcer under Sudi.)
‘Grin’ (Former gang member, enforcer under Sudi.)
Grogan ‘Rogan’ (Cartaport convicted smuggler, ship Captain, presumed dead.)***
Socrates Casola (Wanted smuggler, ex-pirate, flotilla captain, operating from Turtle Isles to Wetull –the port of Mussel.)
Libanius (Business associate in Mussel)
Yanus (Business associate)
Dottore Numerius Baro, (a Cartagen physician, pupil of Marcus Epolonius working for Nattas.)
Plotia Malla, (Numerius’ fiancé. Also a student of medicine and medic.)
*Storm Nattas bequeathed the small title of Moon’s Haven to the sickly Parkor. He expected him to perish soon after, but his nephew recovered to live a long life, though he eventually did pass his title to Silvio after he failed to produce a male heir.
**Silvio was ‘officially’ Sirio’s son with Maja and spent considerable time with the couple, but Storm named him his own child per the old Lorian custom (a direct elevation in status) upon receiving the governorship of Novesium. The act didn’t raise any eyebrows since it was quite common in Lesia still and some parts of Regia. Sirio’s next child, a daughter with Maja, while a pleasant replacement ‘cost’ the historian a male heir. In a twist of callous luck, or godly interference, no Nattas had another son after Silvio was born.
***Grogan had been condemned to ‘forty years in prison and hard labor’ by King Lucius the third (considered a merciful punishment for his criminal acts, probably due to Grogan offering some undisclosed assistance to the crown), but was horrifically ‘killed’ inside Cartagen’s dungeons mere months into his sentence.
Storm Nattas
‘Abominable Cripple’
‘Principal of Secrets’.
Governor of Novesium,
Lord of Moon’s Haven,
Ruler of Turtle Isles
Keeper of the Golden Forest
Too many dead for the pyres
A day before ides of Septimus
7th month, 2nd of summer
Novesium
Spring of Malady aftermath
LHPD
The crudely scratched -with the use of a coal stick- abbreviation read. Under the cryptic message in Lorian Common, a child’s palm was painted on the cracked, half-burned, wall of the villa.
Governor Storm Nattas pressed his mouth into a thin line, the grimace of displeasure birthed partially for the suspicious wording and in part due to the light breeze coming from the coast. Because of the latter, the disgusting odor of all the burned, heavily decayed, human and animal flesh had now reached them fully and the air had turned putrid.
A foul thing to enter your nostrils so early in the morning…
Or any other body orifice.
One of his veteran lackeys Bryce, gave up in the attempt to read Numerius Baro’s scribblings and opted to gaze at Plotia Malla’s round arse, the Dottore’s young fiancé and medic, who had stooped to examine the dilapidated, fully beset by rot, human arm they had discovered.
A fleas-covered, stray dog had found it in reality, ‘up and unearthed the cursed thing’ from the pile of debris, but then decided the almost putrefied flesh wasn’t to its liking and dropped the severed arm near Storm’s legs, before sauntering away.
The miffed Governor seriously considered having the dog put down for the insult, but decided it wasn’t a priority at that crucial hour.
“Where’s Centurion Mede?” Storm asked Bryce and looked about them to locate Sudi.
“Searching the street, south of the market,” Bryce replied and fixed the cloth on his face. He’d a prominent nose to hook it on, but summer heat made him sweaty and couldn’t keep it there for long. The cloth mask helped protect them from the decease according to the doctors. Having said that knowing that it had offered little protection to the sick citizens was of course a reason for concern. “Epolonius will come here though after he finishes searching the grain silos.”
“What’s to search? One is burned down, the other bloody empty,” Storm griped looking up and down the burned down buildings. The two best theories about what had happened, were that either the citizens had initially attempted to cleanse the area around the Blacksmiths workshops, or an accident had occurred and it set fire to nearby buildings out of control. Both theories were false. Be that as it may, the winds had carried the flames in a northwest direction for three city blocks. They reached as far north as the south market street’s junction with the grain silos and destroyed one of the big buildings, before stopping inside the market’s stands. Mayor Reganus had demolished buildings right and left of the vertical street coming from the market, with Numerius Baro erecting a hospital near the destroyed neighborhoods. Only a few sturdier, but burned houses and villas had been left behind in the blackened area the fire had traveled on.
For an intense moment, the spreading fire had almost overrun the market and reached the brothels. With mostly army units roaming parts of the city, this would have caused them even bigger problems during their secret clean-up operations.
A soldier will head straight for the working girls after his shift is over, Storm thought. Take that comfort away from him and he’ll start night-strolling the streets bored.
And sooner, or later, he’ll stumble on more corpses.
“There are dead people buried under the debris,” Bryce explained, just as Sudi appeared at the corner of the damaged villa, walking fast and escorted by Grin. Sudi had a cane in his left hand, but didn’t need it. Storm did need his own cane, as his maimed leg bothered him again, while marching up and down Novesium’s streets was the opposite of helpful. “From the moment Virginia Lina came back to look for her sister’s family, Epolonius is convinced many more people have perished and are inside the ruins.”
Of course they are. We put them there, afore we burned down the whole fucking thing! Storm thought irate, a tremor in his right arm starting. “Anyone else inside here?”
“The next building. Belonged to Ignatius something,” Bryce explained and nodded at the arriving Sudi.
“How do we get them out? Obviously away from preying eyes,” Storm asked, now worried as he could spot legionaries going from lot to lot further to the north, near both the standing and collapsed Silos.
“I have Captain Cornerblum stalling Mede and Epolonius, but Virginia needs to take a trip to the river,” Sudi answered with a grimace, small portions of his face left permanently deformed and wrinkled from the poison, but looking better after Rhys had given him that healing potion. Sudi had dentures made out of ivory also, the latter ridiculously expensive, but anyhow he’d masked the missing teeth as well. “The man is an idiot and could cause us problems.”
“Gerwig’s biggest attribute is his idiocy and sticking to orders,” Storm elucidated. “We are losing our hiding spots Sudi. With Epolonius being a thorough cunt, we need to move the flea-covered stinking stiffs, elsewhere.”
“We could… toss them in the river,” Grin suggested after a small pause and Storm stared him soberly. The lackey slowly retreated a couple of steps, out of the Governor’s reach and looked down at the dirty, ashes-covered street.
“Seeing as the river is freely accessible by people from Moon’s Haven and Novesium,” Storm hissed through clenched teeth. “We can’t justify bloated corpses popping out of the fucking water, or caught in fishing nets. Firstly it’s a health hazard. Aye. Not to mention that one sickness-riddled cadaver could be explained away as an accidental drowning, but a hundred, or more, will cause mass hysteria and raise a lot of blasted eyebrows!”
“Pyres. We use pyres boss,” Sudi offered.
“Aye, but we already burned the reported quota,” Storm grunted. “That panicky Reganus has done it. Locked us in this low number. Maybe we can go ten, or twenty over? Make it fifty. Eh. How many bodies have we amassed in the woods?”
“Well… seven, or eight…ahm,” Sudi started thinking it through and Storm breathed out, given the low number, but of course Sudi hadn’t finished yet. “Eight hundred, or thereabouts.”
“Son of a bitch!” Storm growled irate at the difficult to brush under the rag casualties. I mean, you need a mightily big rag to do it. Fuck. A ten meter deep hole perhaps. Ten by thirty. Forty? Ah. He glared at Baro with hatred. “Dottore did you find anything in there? You’ve been taking your fucking sweet time!” He growled trying to keep his anger under control and failing.
“Part of a foot, on top of that arm. I’ll look for the rest of it,” Numerius replied examining what Plotia Malla had given him.
“How about you bury it all again in the darn hole and then put a flat plinth over it!” Storm snapped and eyed the frowned Sudi. “Mister Lotus, we need to take decisive action here afore this spreads!”
“We have taken care of the survivors, used the palace’s cellars to keep those in need fed and coordinated with Cartagen to receive another caravan with supplies,” Sudi attempted to reassure him. The problem of course was that Nattas didn’t give a rusty copper about them and Sudi’s attempt at reassurance failed spectacularly.
“I meant what to do about the superfluous, not-numbered cadavers. We need to make these extra bodies disappear,” Nattas grunted, pressing a finger at the bridge of his nose to alleviate a splitting headache. “We control the docks, can we set up pyres before Emerald Beach?”
“If we clean up the trees yes, but we need to burn fast and keep Epolonius away,” Sudi replied. “Discreetly. So we need smaller pyres and not huge ones.”
“What if they spot, or somehow manage to search one of these smaller pyres and then happen to find dead, hopefully unrecognizable, citizens in there? Could we chalk it up as an accident? A cult mass suicide?” Storm asked in a reasonable manner.
“Cornerblum can move guards south, near the Blacksmiths workshops,” Sudi explained. “Cordon the area and keep Mede out, while we conduct ‘cleansing operations’ in the night.”
“Get Mede’s men to do something else and leave the searching to our guards,” Storm offered and stared east, beyond the destroyed buildings. The olive trees grove started about three kilometers away, but part of it had reached almost to the houses. The trees that had, now stood burned as well. Behind the trees, more wilderness, until one reached the river.
“Like what?”
“Build a wall,” Storm decided. “Start in the north, east of the surviving Silos and then move to the south, parallel to the city, the olive trees and the river.”
“An outer wall?”
“Yep,” Storm replied and puffed out. “How do we mask a pile of burning corpses from a curious cunt?”
“We burn more stuff in it?” Sudi suggested.
“Go on,” Storm probed.
“Milord Governor, boss,” Bryce started and Storm stopped him with a hand wave.
“Just pick one and stick with it for pity’s sake,” he told the grimacing lackey. “You can speak now,” Storm added to get the confused man going again.
“We could burn animals, shove the stiffs under them,” Bryce finally said and Sudi furrowed his brows unsure.
“It’s not a half-bad idea,” Storm decided. “What animals?”
“Horses?” Bryce suggested and a sighing Storm hobbled near him with the use of his cane. He raised his right arm high and then delivered a loud cuff on the man’s head. Bryce faltered, but managed to stay on his feet.
“Horses are expensive,” Storm explained in a didactic manner with a glance at the others and then cleared his throat. “Anyone else?” He probed, as the half-Nord’s suggestion had merit.
“Strays?” Sudi offered, whilst working the denture in his mouth.
“Give us more than the cock’s tip, we aren’t maidens,” Storm encouraged him with an impatient hiss, his mind on the impudent dog from earlier.
Epolonius frowned, his wrinkled face obscured by a linen mask. “We long suspected animals were the source of the typhus Numerius. But we've already isolated the citizens from the infected zones,” he lectured, glancing at the quiet Numerius Baro, his old student.
“Professor,” Baro began with a tone of respect. “It's conceivable that disease-ridden remains could be transported into healthy neighborhoods by stray animals, even after we have secured the survivors. There are countless strays wandering the city capable of this.”
Storm grimaced. Are they going to fucking debate this in the fucking street? The hot south coast sun burning the top of his head and slightly pointy ears, sweat rivulets trickling down his long face.
“That's a reasonable concern,” Epolonius conceded. “What measures can we take to stop this? Should we hunt down the stray cats and dogs? Perhaps even the rats? Hmm. We must continue our search of the abandoned houses as our first priority. More lives may have been lost. I told you that Lady Lina is still searching for her sister's family. That's a significant portion of the neighborhood… this neighborhood, in need of good search.”
“Our team can handle it,” Storm interjected, losing his patience. “We can clear the streets, use carts to remove the animals from populated areas, and incinerate them.”
“What if you find more corpses Governor?” Epolonius asked and Storm’s face contorted, but was forced to answer. Centurion Mede had approached them, flanked by another officer and he couldn’t argue with the academic, or appear uncooperative. The disfigured, one-eyed Nord, wore a half-mask made out of bronze, in order to cover the damaged part of his face. Half a funeral mask, Priest Faustus Abito had described it. The priest of Oras had arrived from the capital with Epolonius and Mede’s Century.
“We will dispose of them in the pyres?”
Nothing better than a touch of truth in your soup of lies.
“A professional must be present, take notes.” Epolonius said oblivious to Nattas’ thoughts. “If more people have been lost, we need to know and inform the King. Those are a lot of empty houses. Most of them appear broken in.”
“People panicked in their attempt to escape the city,” Storm argued. “When the fire came, it turned into a stampede, praise to the Allgods, without too many casualties.”
“Governor, this is as implausible a notion as your old idea that the queen regent had a fake pregnancy. I told you then, you are either pregnant, or you’re not,” Epolonius countered austerely and Storm grinded his teeth, his jaw hurting in the attempt to present a fake indifferent expression. The last thing he needed was a discussion on Miranda’s condition back then.
“If no child came, and it didn’t, then the hypothesis… however implausible, was correct dear Dottore,” Nattas replied with difficulty.
Epolonius stood back with a frown marring his old face. A tense moment followed which gave Mede the chance to speak.
“Cornerblum has guards sitting on their hands in the port,” the Centurion rustled, a permanent crook to the side of his mouth. “He either opens the way today, or we’ll turn around and search this street milord Nattas. Waiting for them to move is pointless.”
Storm breathed out pensively. “Centurion, your men can build a wall you think?”
“Ayup, we have an engineering unit wit us sir,” Mede replied. “How tall?”
“Six meters tall at least and two meters thick,” Storm replied without batting an eyelash and Epolonius blinked in surprise.
“How long?” Mede asked barely impressed.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“Four kilometers for starters,” Storm replied. “Eventually from the Grain Silos over there, to the sea.”
“That’s a big project sir,” Mede said stiffly. “We are here for a different reason.”
“Novesium shall fund it and it’ll help the city,” Nattas assured him. “I’ll talk with the Consul to extend your stay.”
“We can post markers, I suppose,” Mede said with a grimace. “What about the survivors?”
“Those who haven’t left are dead Centurion,” Storm replied readily. “And we’ve found them all.”
They hadn’t.
Just after midnight the sleepless Nattas was at the port’s entrance just as the first laden carts appeared. The first of the four small pyres started burning, half-hidden south of the Blacksmiths Workshops and before Emerald Beach, about an hour later.
Sudi’s men and almost all of the Reformed Company under Moore, emptied the two by two four-wheeled carts from the corpses, usually six bodies per unit, and piled them up at the center of the pyre. Olive oil was added and dry firewood, then an outer layer of slain animals. Cats, dogs, some mules and when the stray, sick animals run out on them, Sudi bought a whole herd of sheep and put the wooly creatures to the knife. All two hundred and fifty heads of them.
It was very soon quite evident they had too many corpses for the pyres. More rotting cadavers were thrown in, for less killed animals. The job too-gruesome to be described. Done in the relative dark, or under fire and moonlight, the piles grew before Storm’s squinted eyes.
“That’s putrid sire,” Gerwig, pronounced with a ‘v’, told him some time later, after taking the time to clear his clogged throat from the toxic fumes. The latter had covered the port and then spilled north and west, out of the docks towards Novesium’s center and following the coast towards the west side of the city. Captain Cornerblum still sported his thin –now greying- mustache, but missed most of his hair, except for around the ears. “A great job you’re doing here, cleaning up the mess.”
“The King’s orders were clear mister Cornerblum,” Nattas replied and wiped a tear from his right eye with the back of a finger. “Any problems?”
“Abito and Epolonius arrived,” Gerwig said and squinted his eyes curious, upon noticing a burning half-a-torso tumbling down from one of the pyres. “Want to examine the discovered corpses.”
“They are late. We found very few. Homeless mainly. We had to burn those immediately. The risk of infection is very high.”
“Of course milord,” Gerwig replied rigidly. “The Allgods spared you for a reason back in Alden.”
The Captain was referring to the attempt on Storm’s life back in 188NC.
“Uhm,” Nattas murmured and then used a hankie to wipe his face under the cloth-mask he had on.
“You daughter reminded me of that girl,” Cornerblum continued, his eyes on Sudi’s frantic lackeys using long sticks and harpoons to move the burning torso and drag it back into the pyre. “Whatever happened to her?”
“I let her go. She lives up north someplace,” Nattas lied. “As you said, she reminded me of my daughter.”
“I’ll go check on the men milord,” Gerwig gave a nod of agreement and then added with a sharp smack of his lips. “Take a breather as well.”
Nattas didn’t, instead he got himself a sore throat from breathing poisonous gasses for his troubles and two hours later, with the pyres still burning bright, the Governor had to tackle the aged Dottore Epolonius problem. The Dottore wanted to examine the pyres up close and the carts with the corpses that were coming and going from the east woods just outside the city. The initial dumbing grounds were slowly emptying, or something close to it at least according to Grin, who had been put in charge of guarding the mounts of corpses tossed there.
Back to the present, the tired and wholly blackened from the fumes Moore was adamant whilst speaking to Nattas. At the same time Sudi stalled the Dottore and Priest Abito five meters away.
“The Doc needs to go,” Moore said matter-of-factly.
Everyone’s favorite solution to solve a problem is murder these days. Ah, this realm is doomed, he thought solemnly.
“Any ideas?” Nattas probed not against the suggestion. Better to be a hypocrite than an idiot. “The priest might talk.”
“We get rid of the priest too.”
“Don’t we have too many dead bodies already?” Nattas asked and Moore thought about it for a moment. “It was a jest for crying out loud.”
“I don’t think it matters Governor,” Moore replied. “But we can make it believable.”
“I love cliffhangers as much as the next guy, but I’m under a bit of pressure right now,” Nattas grunted. “Tell me your fucking thought.” He liked Moore well enough, for the man wasn’t a total buffoon and could come up with solid plans once in a while.
“Show him some bodies.”
“How is that gonna help us?”
“The Doc might get sick. All this exposure,” Moore shrugged his shoulders. “Dangerous stuff milord.”
A tensed Nattas pursed his hidden behind the mask mouth and cast a side-glance towards the venerable Epolonius. The Dottore offered Storm a polite head nod noticing his stare, while also listening to Sudi’s bullshit and the caught Nattas smiled back, in a warm, friendly manner.
“What about Abito?” The Governor probed.
“Well, he’s a bloody priest. Ain’t he? Let him have a ceremony somewhere out of the way milord,” Moore replied. “We’ve corpses for him to service aplenty.”
Indeed.
Faustus Abito was a short in height, thinly-built man in his forties. He’d a large oval face, a bit feminine, but his nose was large and straight, splitting his face in two portions, which made him very ugly. He also had the saddest brown eyes ever and a dissonant voice good for screaming, but rather mediocre for singing hymns.
Thankfully most of Oras prayers are spoken aloud plainly and without much fanfare, Nattas decided listening to the priest performing the last rites, going from pyre to pyre under Sudi’s guidance.
“Who do we have here?” Abito asked and Nattas pretended he was invested in the matter himself, whilst eavesdropping to Epolonius grilling Moore on the bodies they still had in their possession.
“A family you say?” The Dottore probed. “Might be Virginia’s relatives?”
“Could be Doc,” Moore agreed sadly. “We thought of her immediately.”
“But why stay at a different street?” Epolonius asked.
“They saw the flames and got scared. Bunkered down at the Bekor’s house,” Moore explained. Bekor was an olive oil merchant. They had found him half burned near his trees. He had perished not from sickness, but in the attempt to save his property. The olive trees had been saved, but twenty four natives had died in the exchange. “But the sickness got them, one after the other, before help could arrive.”
“All nine people perished? What about the kids?” A shaken Epolonius asked.
“No survivors.”
“We need to notify Virginia.”
“I have a man sent to Mede already,” Moore assured him. “Bryce is as solid as they come.”
Nattas grimaced at the undeserving praise and flinched greatly startled when Abito’s strong voice, disturbed the gloomy summer night.
“The Journey isn’t over, the dark one says,” the Priest sang and Sudi nodded, both hands resting on his cane right next to Nattas. “Speak your name to Oras, pay the tithe and you may go forth into the lands beyond.”
The priest paused and stared at Sudi expectantly.
“Ignatius, Vogel,” Sudi croaked after a tense moment, with firewood crackling, burning flesh hissing and smoking streams of human and animal fat leaking from the pyre.
“Ignatius Vogel,” Abito said aloud and made the sign of the Eye of Oras with his hand. “You are noticed. Go forth alone, with only the god’s cold shadow as your company. To this we attest, else the god shall strike us down and rob us of our voice.”
An alarmed Sudi cleared his throat and glanced at the priest nervously.
“Yes?” Abito queried a little annoyed for the interruption.
“There are a couple of more… bodies in there priest,” Sudi explained in a hoarse voice.
“Two more? Say their names my good man!” Abito urged his nervous associate.
“Ehm… eah,” Sudi started greatly pressured and nervous he’d make a costly for his own soul mistake. Which was ludicrous a notion.
“Kyra and Ermes their son,” Nattas intervened and Abito turned his sad eyes on him.
“Where were they from?” The priest asked curious.
“Lesia,” Nattas lied with a grunt and coughed trying to clean his lungs. “Get on with it priest. We have more pyres waiting.”
“Kyra and Ermes you are noticed,” Abito continued with a warning stare at the still coughing Governor. “Go forth alone, with only the god’s cold shadow as your company. To this we attest. The journey isn’t over. In this new path opened, walk unafraid until you reach the Desert of Souls. There yours shall be measured on the scales and if found worthy, your journey shall continue beyond it.”
Nattas nodded, his eyes on Moore walking with Epolonius towards the nearby warehouses. The large buildings were part of the Blacksmith Workshops district and they had placed a number of random bodies in there for the nosy doctor.
A sudden soft breeze came from the nearby sea. It fanned the flames in the funeral pyres –now eight in number- and disturbed the spilled ashes. The flames leaped out of the grim burning mounts, the grey ashes wafted in their turn, forming clouds that made visibility even poorer and the Dottore’s frail figure disappeared in the night’s darkness.
-
Governor Storm Nattas, newly tasked by King Lucius to get the situation in Novesium under control, took over from Mayor Reganus at the tail end of the Spring of Malady, in 195 NC. Lord Nattas moved fast to secure the city, clean up the streets from the debris, leftover sewer spillage from the winter flood and the corpses of the deceased. While some of Novesium’s citizens were probably lost in the fire, the majority of those missing perished by the typhus epidemic.
It’s the total number of dead that most records can’t agree with. Three hundred and seventy seven civilians were lost officially. The number was to be revised locally that very summer to almost five hundred, when the first reports and queries started surfacing about the whereabouts of many lost early-visiting tourists (and merchants). The number was to rise again, unofficially, when many of the refugees arriving at Storm’s Rest spoke of streets littered with corpses. Around three thousand five hundred people unfortunately are still missing (or are displaced) after the spring of 195 NC. Their relatives have petitioned the throne twice to retrace their route, or even search near Novesium again for those lost.
For they vanished into thin air, despite the tremendous efforts undertaken to locate them. Lord Nattas, who searched Novesium thoroughly himself, blamed the poorly-organized early exodus out of the city by Mayor Reganus, who assumed responsibility and was to be stripped from his position a year later. No records were kept for much of the journey and it is possible, many people veered off course, changed direction, or didn’t arrive at Storm’s Rest for some reason. Of the five thousand people that did, more than half of them opted to stay there and found nice accommodations inside the newly built city, with the rest of them returning to Novesium two years later.
It is possible as I said, but alas quite dubious and ten years later the majority of Regia’s citizens doesn’t believe the official story, given the high-ranking person put in charge and then remaining at the center of it.
Dottore Marcus Epolonius, a towering academic of the medical field and Regia’s Royal Physician, with the help of Dottore Numerius Baro, one his many old pupils, were some of the many medics who tried to help the survivors during those months. The aged seventy one at the time Epolonius, got sick from the typhus and died in the second month of summer, almost three months after he had arrived in the city.
The death of his father’s old physician saddened the greatly aggrieved for the loss of his young son Alistair King Lucius, who learned about it while on an official field trip, arranged to inspect Nipius Bonosus’ work at Goldwall Peaks. The famed for his tunnels architect (credited with finishing the Tunnel Pass at Oras Navel) had been given the gargantuan task to build a road that would connect Canlita Sea and Aldenfort’s marble quarries near Goldwall Peaks.
The well over a hundred and fifty kilometers road would tunnel through parts of the mountains (Bonosus used dwarf crews for the job), cross the barren desert called Alden Sands and then head eastwards towards Two Rivers Castle, effectively connecting two of Regia’s most important cities via an alternate route. The renowned Alden Sands Road, is one of Jelin’s most used and profitable merchant caravan routes in our days and together with Bonosus’ two tunnels through the Goldwall Peaks, they now stand as a towering monument to a sagacious ruler’s vision for his kingdom. His determination to repair the old Regia infrastructure, or build anew what he’d brought down, legendary in the kalends of history.
Even when the King’s name was omitted from the label of the many works he had ordered his people to construct, mostly out of modesty –but also for political reasons, words were scratched on nearby walls to remind the populace of the simple fact. On the stone pavements and at every road’s turn. On city walls, reservoirs and even at the stands of distant markets. The Praetor was aware. He watched over the people because he cared. He cared enough to make everything right again.
A tribute, but also a stern warning for those abusing the king’s trust.
LHPD.
Liger Hominis Pathera Divinus.
Lord Nattas, the new Governor of Novesium continued working into the late summer months. He cleared the docks and opened them up again for the ships. The Governor used Mede’s Century and two crews of legion engineers to clear the east edges of the city (facing the plantations and Emerald River), and then begun building the final part of the outer wall Lord Ursus had left unfinished. Using his own funds, Nattas repaired and widened the road towards Moon’s Haven and the Bridge of Silence, while he opened a second more direct road out of the newly built East Gates and erected a second bridge (Moonhaven Bridge). This directed the local traders to Moon’s Haven without clogging up the royal road to the north, which greatly alleviated the flow of goods into the city. It also helped Moon’s Haven grow.
Seven days before the kalends of Nonus (9th Month) Governor Nattas arrived at Moon’s Haven for the first time in a while, in order to finish a property sale to Rhys Vardran. Rhys, a person of mixed blood mentioned in Regia’s Royal Records, was officially an Eplas businessman and associate of Nattas. The newly purchased land was nothing but brooks and mostly palm trees, a small part of Golden Forest beyond the marble quarry. Not a year into the elusive Rhys’ and his private people’s arrival, the erection of a rather expensive, but tasteless villa (Villa Silentium) had almost finished.
At about that same time a very rich gold deposit was discovered at the east sides of Lesia Gaze Peaks, very near Vardran’s property. Lord Nattas asked Rhys whether he’d consider selling back the patch of land to him to facilitate the movement of the miners and Rhys (a rather abrupt, difficult person) steadfastly replied that he wouldn’t. Surprisingly this was the end of it, although an agreement was reached for crews to cross the small bridge (with a hefty fee imposed by the locals) in order to work the valuable mine that despite being cut off from the road was still in Nattas’ lands.
Be that as it may, the reason for the Governor’s surprise return to Moon Haven was quite different. Lord Nattas had been informed by Socrates Casola, a mercenary ship captain operating a small trade flotilla for him that the small and picturesque port, was due to receive important visitors.
And it did.
-
Third week of the month Octavus
(Last of summer)
Seven days before final Bacchanalia of the year (Valimae Lilt)
And the kalends of month Nonus (1st day of 9th Month, or first of fall)
Sandbay Manor, Petty Barony of Moon’s Haven
Nattas Cove.
Storm examined himself in the polished bronze mirror. He’d a grey patch of hairs sprouting under his chin, where the goatee connected. Several more had appeared on his head, the streaks of grey and white mostly lost into the rest of his thick black mane.
He heard movement at the door of his quarters and turned around to spot Silvio watching him from afar.
“What are you up to?” Storm asked his son and the boy shrugged his shoulders. “Get it out.”
“I don’t want to return to Carta,” Silvio replied with a pout.
To Cartagen was his meaning.
“Why not?” Nattas probed and hobbled near the young boy with the help of his cane. “You have Sirio there and Maja to look after you. Plus Miranda is nearby.”
“I have two mothers and it’s weird. They are too strict. I rather stay with you and Uncle Sudi. Even uncle Vinnie is more fun to be around,” Silvio said and Storm shook his head and stooped to lift him up, wrapping his right arm around the boy’s waist.
“You are heavy as a rock,” Nattas retorted and dropped him back down. Silvio chuckled and gave his father a punch below the knee. The sharp pain brought tears to Nattas’ eyes. “Ah, you rascal, not the knee.”
“What’s wrong with your leg?” Silvio asked curious.
“I tried to be a knight in my youth,” Storm replied, rubbing at the sore spot with a fist. “Decided it wasn’t the right course of action.”
“Too dangerous?”
“Nah, but for sure not as profitable,” Nattas explained and guided the boy out of his quarters by the shoulders. “Which one is your mother you think?”
“Miranda. Unless you bedded your own daughter,” Silvio replied without hesitation.
I have son, but it’s not easy to explain. So I won’t.
“Who told you that?”
“I saw you two in bed?”
Nattas furrowed his brows. “You were four years old.”
“Don’t know about that, but I wasn’t blind,” came the boy’s smart retort and then Silvio sighed, appearing troubled. “Maja tries very hard. Well, she did until Sirio knocked her up and now she can barely move. I can put my head in her arse!”
“Haha,” Nattas chuckled at the response, but then immediately blinked in surprise and a touch of concern. “You mean fucked her out of her wits? Right son?”
“No, I mean he put a baby in her? Happened before I came here for the summer. At first she seemed fine, but it got worse somehow!” Silvio retorted, with a roll of his eyes. “How do you do that?”
“Eh, I told you… wait a minute,” Storm stopped the boy’s follow up questions. “You don’t mean Maja is pregnant?”
“I do? Are you slow?” Silvio guffawed and Nattas cursed, afore clenching his jaw. “Hey, aren’t you happy?” The boy queried.
I don’t give a shit, unless it’s a boy with my last name. Then we may have a problem.
Nattas opened his mouth to answer, but Sudi walked on them inside the long corridor and made him pause. Sudi stooped to give the young boy a wink, pulling it off and then flashed his newly made teeth to him.
“Wow, uncle Sudi grew more teeth! I did as well!” Silvio gasped happy and then tried to get at Sudi’s dentures. The alarmed half-breed dodged and took a cautious step back from the boy’s wildly swinging arms.
“We have visitors,” he told the watching with a smirk on his face Nattas.
Sudi’s words had a grave undertone about them.
Son of a frolicking goat!
You want a man to squeeze the life out of a party and ruin a nice moment, befriend Sudi, a scowled Nattas thought unamused.
“Merchants?”
“In a sense.”
Fuck you too.
“A small stray Caravan?” Storm chanced clenching his jaw.
“Several big and armoured ships.”
Nattas pursed his mouth, whilst Sudi tried to keep the determined to examine his dentures Silvio away from him. It was a struggle.
“Where the fuck did they come from?” Storm barked, not liking the timing.
“Wetull, via Turtle Isles,” Sudi retorted, threatening Silvio with his cane.
Hmm. How about that?
“What’s a tool?” Silvio asked curious.
“Wetull, is a faraway place,” Sudi explained, just as Storm hobbled down the corridor to see for himself. “I have a carriage ready at the manor’s entrance,” Sudi yelled at Nattas’ back and the Governor grunted a curt reply under his breath.
“What’s a faraway place?” Silvio asked doubly curious by Sudi’s previous response and Mister Lotus turned poetic. Sudi loved the boy almost as much as Nattas.
“It’s what we call the places we know little about. Where myths of strange creatures and untold treasures we read in tales are birthed,” Sudi had replied, channeling the late Titus Balbus.
Long-eared fairies, big-titted Ticu and flying monsters.
“What treasures?” An engrossed, but sharp as a tack, Silvio had asked, but by then the proud Nattas was too far away to hear his right hand man’s reply.
The tall Zilan wearing the leather hat stood at the edge of the docks. He smoked a small cigar, his piercing eyes examining Sandbay Beach and then turned to behold Nattas. The Governor climbed down his carriage with difficulty.
Behind the Zilan, sailors and port workers had started unloading the flotilla’s ships. The flag billowing over the masts of the massive galleass. Black and gold, with a wyvern and a merchant’s scales depicted on its surface. Nattas could see a lot of blue-haired, long-eared Zilan roaming the decks, a good number of them armed to the teeth.
Nattas thought that after meeting Larn in person, all other creatures appeared friendlier.
With the exception of that creep Barlow of course.
He paused a meter from his exotic visitor with a glance at a bandaged teenager, who had appeared next to the Zilan. The young man was dressed similarly and carried a strange sword.
“This is Mister Shamil Al-Bagi,” the Zilan said and Nattas nodded, while the Cofol –Shamil was clearly a human- bowed his head deeply to the Governor.
“I’m Governor Nattas,” Storm introduced himself. “This is my family house over there. It is difficult to see it from afar.”
“I can see the manor’s walls,” the Zilan assured him and offered Nattas a cigar from a leather pouch. “It’s fine tobacco. I grew it myself in my spare time.”
What are you, a fucking gardener?
“I don’t smoke,” Storm declined. “Heavenly greetings I believe is the term. You’re with South Eplas Trading Company.”
“To the heavens above our greetings,” the Zilan official replied, making a minor correction to his words and then examined Storm’s face carefully. “You’ve Abrakas as your crest and Mori-Zilan in your blood, haven’t you?”
“First time I’m hearing it,” Nattas retorted.
“Have you heard of Director Taranir?”
Ah.
“I expected someone. The names matter little,” Nattas replied.
“On the contrary. The names matter a lot Governor Nattas,” Taranir argued and tossed his cigar down. He then used his boot to extinguish it. “Words are bonds, written, or spoken aloud.”
Right.
“What does SETC want?” The Governor asked evenly.
“Safe haven for our goods. A path to new markets.”
“How much are we talking out?” Storm asked and Taranir raised his right arm, paused for a moment theatrically and then inserted his hand inside the front of his shirt. The Zilan dug out a rolled up scroll and offered it to Nattas.
“I don’t like theatrics,” Storm warned the imposing creature and Taranir smirked taking it in stride.
“But you enjoy all manners of profit, former Baron of Moon’s Haven,” Taranir said and added in his cultured almost accent-less Common. “Gold built you a ladder and you climbed it. Hmm.”
“You are not wrong,” Nattas agreed and whistled at the amount of goods the ships carried. “What else you think? It’s considered good business to be frank with each other Mister Taranir,” he cautioned the Zilan, despite not intending to adhere to the same standards.
“Crime,” Taranir replied simply. “You reek of death.”
And the weird, perceptive motherfucker was dead right.