Cross Purposes
by Concolor44
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Author's Note:
Today is 22 December 2019.
Here we will see how our Favorite Royal Couple(TM) handles the Duke's jabs at their maritime endeavors.
Epilogue, Part II
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Arendelle Castle, Tuesday 09 August 1842, mid-afternoon
Elsa looked up from the crop report when she heard the Queen's Own knock. "Come."
A thin man entered, flanked by two of the Watch. She glanced between them, then focused on the one on the left. "Ferdinand, who is this?"
"Emissary from the United States of America, Your Majesty."
She cocked an eyebrow. Blinked twice. "I see." Switching to English, she asked, "What is your name?"
In Norwegian, he replied, "My name is Darren Moore, Your Majesty."
"Ah." So, they realized a thing or two. "And what is your business here?"
"I have a letter of introduction for our proposed Ambassador." He held up a wooden tube about two spans long.
Elsa gave one of the Guard a nod. The man took the tube, opened it, and withdrew a roll of parchment, which he spread out flat before handing it to Elsa.
Quickly scanning the document, she looked again at the visitor and said, "… So … you are not the Ambassador?"
"No, Your Majesty. Our Secretary of State recognized his missteps from the previous overture. He wants to do everything by the book now."
"That is refreshing."
He quirked a smile, quickly repressed. "As you say, Your Majesty.
"So. Albert Smith. You know him?"
"Quite well for several years."
"He, ah, wouldn't happen to have an aversion to bathing, would he?"
Mr. Moore thought that a very odd question. "No, Your Majesty. Rather the opposite. He's more than a little fussy about his daily toilet."
"Excellent."
When Elsa didn't seem inclined to expand upon that, he asked, "When would you prefer to have the Ambassador attend your pleasure?"
A quick scan of the letter and a consult of her calendar yielded, "Next week, on Thursday afternoon at four."
He gave her a smooth, correct bow, said, "It shall be done," and was escorted out.
[[ Dear? If you have nothing better to do before supper next Thursday … ]]
[[ Fear not. We will not have a repeat of the debacle with that insufferable Frenchman. If this American so much as begins to start to think about being anything less than genteel, I'll toss him out a window and see how he likes the fjord. ]]
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Weselton Ducal Palace, Thursday 11 August 1842, mid-morning
A slow smile came to rest on the Duke's face as he read down the report from one of his spies. "Stack! Come look at this!"
The Lord Marshal stepped away from the door where he'd been consulting with one of the Captains of Weselton's war fleet. Standing at parade rest in front of his excitable little Duke, he asked, "What is your wish, Your Grace?"
"Those execrable Spanish have left! We can attack now."
This news did not excite Alexander Stack, though he'd been expecting it for some time. Since that one disastrous coastal raid Weselton's navy had done nothing but patrol and watch, watch and patrol, and stay out of the Ice Witch's sight. They'd heard rumors of pirates trying to take one of Arendelle's fishing vessels, and getting to meet Davy Jones up close and personal for their trouble. No one quite knew what had happened, though magic (obviously) had to be at the bottom of it.
Thus the Lord Marshal's discomfiture.
"Get word to those Southern Isles Princes. They've been chafing badly at the delay. We'll send them in first. Soften up the enemy."
Suppressing his sigh of resignation, Stack nodded and said, "It shall be done, Your Grace."
"And ready our fleet. I want to be on open water in three days!"
"It will take that long to contact Prince Heinrich, Your Grace."
The Duke waved him off. "Fine! Fine! Whatever. Make the fleet ready."
"Of course, Your Grace." But, privately, he thought, This will not end well.
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The open ocean, Monday 29 August 1842, 9:00am
Given Elsa's direct connections to all her Sentinels, up-to-date information on the state of the kingdom was a snap … on dry land. That allowed her to expand somewhat the area her little bird-like spies took in, up to several leagues out to sea. She knew in her bones the Duke of Weselton would be a major pain if he had the chance, and wanted to be on her guard just in case.
But Arendelle's fishing fleet covered an awful lot of ocean, and she couldn't monitor all of them all the time. The first hint she had that things had gone amiss was when she spotted one of them with its mast broken, all but dead in the sea and taking on water. The tiny sentry streaked down and landed on the deck, quickly swelling to assume the form of the Queen. The men on board, knowing instantly they were saved, gave a ragged cheer; the captain hurried up and bowed to the avatar. "Your Majesty!"
Elsa still hadn't quite figured out how to get one of these creations to speak, though it could hear just fine. It held out a hand, upon which formed a large tablet. Words appeared: CAPTAIN KAI, WHAT HAPPENED HERE?
"It was three ships, Your Majesty! All unmarked! We thought at first it was pirates, but after they fired enough cannon at us to disable us, they just sailed away!" He pointed below. "One of the balls hit just above the waterline. We've been bailing as hard as we can go, but-"
With a gesture, the avatar encased the hull in an ell of hard ice, causing the ship to lurch and bob up about the same distance. The cheering increased in volume and tempo, settling quickly into, "Elsa! Elsa! Elsa! Elsa!"
WAS ANYONE INJURED?
"Aarnie has a broken hand; beside that, a few scratches here and there. Oh, and Sienart twisted his ankle. Nothing major, thanks be to God."
GOOD. CAPTAIN, HOW IS YOUR CATCH?
"We're almost full. We were planning to start back this afternoon."
PERFECT. I WILL AID YOU IN THAT.
The men all watched in delighted awe as the ice crept upward in a kind of wind-shell. The ship reoriented itself and began moving, gradually picking up speed until it was skimming along smartly. Outboard pontoons grew, long and sleek, raising the ship until the hull was just clear of the water. Its speed doubled.
YOU SHOULD BE BACK IN THE LAGOON BY NOON AT THIS RATE. I WILL COME DOWN TO THE DOCKS WHEN YOU ARRIVE AND SEE TO YOUR MEN'S INJURIES.
"Thank you so much, Your Majesty! Thank you, thank you!"
I WILL HAVE TO DO A MORE THOROUGH JOB OF PROTECTING THE FLEET. THIS ATTACK CANNOT BE ALLOWED TO GO UNANSWERED. Elsa knew very well who had to be responsible, and was already going over a few ways to react.
"Your Majesty knows best. We are forever in your debt."
In a shower of glowing crystals, the avatar resumed its bird-shape and streaked upward out of sight.
The First Mate edged up to the Captain and nudged him, grinning. "It's good to be from Arendelle, eh, Cap?"
"Aye. And sucks to be whoever 'twas what attacked us. She'll not go easy on 'em." He gave his head a shake and turned to the men. "All right, you lot. I know there's still bailin' to do. Let's get to it."
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Arendelle, Wednesday 07 September 1842, 8:30pm
[[Carlos! ]]
Arendelle's King Consort raised his head from where he'd been inspecting his horse's front left hoof. The amount of gold he'd traded for the animal (and he'd had to concede Sofia's powers of prediction) made him more than a little jealous for its health. But the alarm in his wife's Sending brought him up short. [[ Darling? Is everything all right? ]]
[[ Decidedly not. ]]
[[ I'll be right there. ]] And eleven seconds later he flew in through her study's window.
Elsa indicated the large mirror on her wall. It showed a section of the North Atlantic, the sun nearly hidden behind the horizon. Two of Arendelle's fishing boats were surrounded by six warships. The fishermen, already in chains, were being loaded onto the largest. "I just came across this," she gritted out. "I think I would like to handle this one in person."
Carlos nodded to himself for a moment, then gave her a sidelong look. "How about I go take care of it?"
"… You? But … how …"
"Keep watching." He studied the image, then stepped over to a large map on the wall. It depicted a near portion of the North Atlantic. "Where are they?"
"About … sixteen leagues offshore, and maybe three south of our position." She pointed, and a small snowflake appeared at the location.
"Ah." He tapped the bit of ice with a fingertip. "So, near one of Weselton's shipping lanes."
"Yes, now that you mention it."
"All right. Good." He whipped off his shirt, pants, and boots and jumped out the window, streaking straight up at maximum velocity.
[[ Getting your bearings? ]]
[[ Yep. I'll fall on them from above. ]]
He could feel her righteous wrath through the Sending. [[ Make it hurt. ]]
That pulled a chuckle from him. [[ Was it … fifteen leagues, you said? ]]
[[ Sixteen. And about three southward. ]]
[[ Give me … ten minutes. Maybe a bit more, to zero in on them. ]]
[[ That should work. It looks like they're not hurting the men. I'll bet they plan to impress them into Weselton's navy. ]]
[[ Yeah, that won't be happening. ]]
Elsa watched in growing anger as her citizens were forced below-deck. Some of Weselton's men ran around collecting a few axes and a saw, and trooped on board one of the fishing boats, their designs on the mainmast obvious. She paced back and forth in front of the mirror, her eyes taking on a red tint and glowing slightly.
Two sailors had just positioned themselves to start whacking away when there was a tremendous flash of light overhead and a bone-numbing detonation. The nearest of Elsa's birds, the one she'd had broadcasting to the mirror simply ceased to be. She had four in the general area by then, and switched her perspective to one of the others … and a wide grin slowly bloomed on her face.
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Most of the men who sailed with Weselton's navy didn't care one way or the other about Arendelle. It was small, held only a tiny fraction of wealth compared with the Duchy, and its own navy was hardly even a presence on the sea, much less a power … until recently. Stories had begun to circulate, and sailors are notorious gossips. Word was that Arendelle had some new ships, new and deadly, but no one in the fleet could lay claim to first-hand knowledge. They were still only rumors.
The Duke, though, was a man of action, and once he decided to teach Arendelle a lesson …
Well. There were two distinct schools of thought on that point. One, the group that had some direct information on the Battle of the Five Ships, held that attacking the Snow Queen was an idea not destined to lengthen one's life. The others scoffed at the story, stating plainly that if the Queen of Arendelle held that much power, she would already rule all of Europa. Ergo, she didn't.
Many discussions – some reasoned, some decidedly not – took place in the dockside bars and taverns, in the whorehouses, and on board ship. A great deal of hard liquor and even more beer was consumed in the examination of the reality (or not) of Elsa's powers. Everyone had an opinion.
None of the stories, though, included any mention of angels.
And that is what the men were convinced – convinced to their marrow – was now floating overhead. It was so high as to be difficult to see, had it not been quite so bright. Enormous wings of flame stretched out from the being's sides, furling and flapping slowly in the gathering dusk, giving off showers of sparks and faint sizzling sounds. Then the being spoke. Its voice filled the heavens.
MEN OF WESELTON!
KNOW YE THAT ARENDELLE
IS UNDER MY PROTECTION!
I HAVE DECLARED IT BLESSED,
AND WOE BETIDE THOSE WHO WOULD HARM IT!
The angel descended slowly, giving all who watched some idea of its scale: the wingspread was wider than the ships were long. Most of the sailors fell to their knees, gibbering in terror. Some, however, panicked. They ran for their long guns. Inside a minute, three of them lined up at a rail, took aim, and blasted away.
The angel, by then, was perhaps twice as high as the highest crow's nest. The bullets sped toward it … and flashed into vapor halfway there.
Pointing a glowing hand at the gunmen, the angel pronounced, in a voice that shivered the decking,
SINNERS!
FEEL MY WRATH!
Three spears of living light stabbed down and through the men … through the deck … through the hull. Instantly, fire sprang up where the eldritch beams had touched.
Sailors swarmed to keep the ship from burning, crying all the while their holy fear, bowing and kneeling and prostrating themselves.
YOU WILL RELEASE THOSE MEN YOU TOOK.
YOU WILL RETURN THEM TO THEIR SHIPS.
UPON PAIN OF DEATH
YOU WILL NEVER AGAIN INTERFERE
WITH ARENDELLE OR ITS PEOPLE.
The Captain of one of the other ships, a profane man at the best of times and a massive chauvinist for Weselton, had tried to whip his men into firing their cannon at the angel (whom he believed to be no angel at all, but a charlatan of the highest order). They, however, bluntly refused. He climbed into the rigging and shook his fist at the abomination floating there in the sky, cursing and daring it to do its worst even while shielding his eyes from its brilliance.
The immediate answer was a wide flash of light and a deafening report. That Captain was parted neatly down the middle. So was his ship. It flopped in two and promptly began to sink. Screaming sailors jumped off every side.
THUS TO ALL WHO DEFY ME!
ARE THERE OTHERS?
It was truly amazing how quickly the Arendelle sailors were unshackled and ushered back to their boats. It was even more amazing how quickly the remaining five ships turned tail and headed back to Weselton. Carlos boiled the ocean behind them to give them a little more motive to leave.
[[ Do you think I should let the sailors know who I am? ]]
Elsa had been debating that very idea with herself over the previous few minutes while she jumped around and squealed in delight at her husband's rather creative tactics. Calming down (somewhat) she Sent [[ Yes. If you don't, there will be a bevy of idiotic stories instead. Weselton's navy will be supplying plenty of those already. Also, I am ridiculously in love with you right now! ]]
He had to grin at her enthusiasm. [[ You're welcome, Sweetheart. ]]
[[ How did you know you could vaporize those bullets? ]]
[[ Practice. ]]
There was a brief hesitation before she asked, [[ Do I really want to know the details? ]]
[[ Probably not. ]]
[[ Hmm. Well, don't waste any more time. Go ahead and explain yourself to those poor fishermen before they have a religious experience. ]]
[[ Will do! ]]
[[ And get back here so I can show you how much I appreciate what you did. ]]
[[ Yes, ma'am! ]]
Carlos allowed the wide wings to fade and dropped lightly down to one of the boats. They were close enough that all the men on board both craft could hear him when he raised his voice a bit. "Good evening, men! I'm sorry it took us so long to get here and free you."
A few of them pointed, their mouths hanging open. One stuttered, "You're-you're-you're … you're the … you're Queen Elsa's …"
"Yes, it is my honor to claim Elsa as my wife."
"King Carlos?!" This from several others.
He gave an abbreviated bow. "King Consort per the law, but Elsa runs Arendelle. I'm just her support."
They crowded around him. One asked, "Why are you naked?"
"Do you know of any material that could stand that level of heat?"
"Uh … well, no. Your Majesty."
"Pish and tosh. Call me Carlos."
The men didn't look entirely comfortable with that. One asked, "How did you … do all that? It didn't look like the Queen's magic at all."
"I have magic of my own. Fire-based instead of ice."
"And … you can … fly?"
"Yes, but only since getting together with Elsa. Also, I'd appreciate it if you kept quiet about what went on here. Eh, as quiet as reasonable. Obviously, you'll tell your families and friends. Just don't, you know, noise it abroad. The longer Weselton thinks it was God's judgment, the better."
A man at the back of the crowd nudged his neighbor and whispered, "Bet I could fly, too, if she was mine."
The other grinned and whispered back, "s'truth."
Carlos ignored that byplay; he couldn't fault their point of view. "I don't suppose there's an extra set of trous or a shirt to be had, is there?"
"No, Your Ma- … um, no. Sir." Taking in the King's tremendous musculature and, ah, other attributes, he added, "Nothin' fer you t' be ashamed of, an' it's God's honest truth."
He shrugged. "Good breeding. And if there's nothing else you need, I'll be going."
"You fly all the way here from Arendelle?"
"I did. I've flown much farther. With my speed, it's not an issue."
"How'd ya know we uz here?"
"Ah. Elsa discovered that." Peering up into the sky, he pointed and said, "See that little bird?"
After a few seconds of squinting, he said, "… Aye."
"It's made of ice."
All the sailors' eyes grew very round. "You mean … she's watchin' us?"
"Watching over you, yes. She loves Arendelle more than I had thought anyone could love her native land, and cares for your welfare. Yes, she watches. Watches and protects, only this time I asked if I could come in her stead and see about putting the fear of God into Weselton's navy."
That brought out a few grins. "Aye, an' that ye did, Yer Majesty, an' no mistake!"
Another man nodded. "So it is, sir. If any o' those sailors ever get within ten leagues of Arendelle again, I'll eat my shoes!"
"Heh. That was the idea." He floated up an ell or so. "I must needs return to my wife. Godspeed, gentlemen!" And seconds later, he was gone.
They stared off at the sky for a bit. Finally one said, "Goin' back to th' Queen."
His neighbor looked over at him. "Aye? That's what he said."
"Bet the castle's gonna be full o' snow tonight."
"Ha! No doubt. An' seein' what he was swingin' explains a lot."
"s'truth."
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Arendelle, Tuesday 20 September 1842, 9:10am
A startled Carlos pivoted to stare at Elsa, a subtle grin blossoming. "Did you just … curse?"
Ignoring his question, she ground out, "They're at it again."
"They?" He sobered up. "That would be … Weselton? Where this time?"
"Not seven leagues off the coast. One of our new schooners has engaged. It looks as if she's trying to keep them away from a brace of merchantmen. Those two are headed this way with every scrap of sail they can hang."
"Is our ship holding her own? How many-"
"Come." She all but ran out of their rooms, downstairs to her office and thence to the study where she activated the Mirror. This device had been a suggestion of Anna's. Elsa could, under the right circumstances, share with Carlos what she could see through her birds' eyes, but that didn't hold true with anyone else. That situation did not please Anna, and she'd pestered her sister until Elsa devised a way to allow her to watch as well. It made things easier on Carlos, too, as he didn't need to be fully entwined into her psyche (not that he considered that a burden, mind you).
A wave of her hand brought up the scene. After a few seconds, she said, "That's the Silver Wind. From the looks of Weselton's fleet, I think she may have exhausted her magazine." Turning her (glowing-green-eyed-and-therefore-hair-raising) frown Carlos's way, she continued, "We need to swap out the 36-pounders for those guns in the Coastal Defense towers. They can carry a great deal more of those charges."
Anna had stuck her head in the door of the study during that last sentence, and pulled up short, a sober expression coming to rest on her face. "Well, I was wondering where you two were going in such a hurry." She eased in the rest of the way and padded over to the Mirror. "Damn."
"Anna."
"Sorry."
Carlos studied the tableau briefly and nodded. "More than half are steamships. Ironclad. The 36-pounders do well against tall ships – you can see two of them are out of action with broken masts, one is listing badly, and another's on fire – but even the exploding shot isn't a guaranteed strike against the ironclads."
"It doesn't seem your last foray against Weselton sent the right message."
"If you will allow me to try again?"
Elsa nodded once, her focus on the Mirror.
Anna muttered, "Give 'em Hell, Carlos."
It only took the Fey-touched King Consort a few minutes to come in over the invading fleet. He counted twenty-three ironclad steamships and nineteen tall ships-of-the-line, quite a formidable armada. [[ Sweetheart? ]]
[[ Yes? ]]
[[ If you would, kindly create a few dozen small, flat icebergs in and amongst the fleet. I think that would serve well. ]]
[[ Icebergs? Whatever for? ]]
[[ Most of them won't have time to get the lifeboats launched, and I'd rather avoid drowning the sailors if possible. I'd imagine very few of the rank and file hold any animosity toward you or Arendelle, and there's no point in killing if it isn't needed. ]]
In seconds, five dozen large rafts of ice dotted the sea between the ships. She also formed a sheet of ice around the Silver Wind and skipped it quickly back out of the fight.
[[ Thanks. ]]
The only warning the sailors had was a deafening concussion and the appearance of a brilliant white spot in the sky. Then chaos ensued.
One of the ironclads was a good bit larger and more ornately decorated than the rest. He left that one alone for the time being.
The others? Well … they were of the rear-encased design, the impeller wheels mostly shielded from conventional attack. Carlos sliced through each one's drive shaft, cutting it away from the ship and sending it to the bottom of the ocean. The powerless vessels coasted to a halt. That also, incidentally, allowed sea water to come in through the engine room; four immediately began sinking.
Next, he sliced all the masts off the sailing ships just above the deck, and then punched a few large, ragged holes through the hulls.
As predicted, the men had little or no time to get to the lifeboats; only a double-handful launched. Most sailors jumped in and paddled over to the nearest patch of ice.
Carlos watched for the quarter-hour or so it took for the fleet to sink, then flew down and hovered in front of the bow of the lone remaining steamship. Those nearest backed away and shielded their eyes.
I WOULD SPEAK TO THE CAPTAIN OF THIS VESSEL.
IF HE COMES OUT IN THE NEXT MINUTE,
I WILL NOT CARVE YOUR SHIP INTO SCRAP METAL.
It was considerably less than a minute before a tall man in a tailored, starched (and yet utilitarian) uniform strode up to the bow. He stopped and stood at parade rest, glowering at the fiery apparition. "Who are you?"
I AM HE WHO HAS TAKEN ARENDELLE
UNDER HIS WING.
YOUR NAME?
The officer executed a brief, rather severe bow, and replied sourly, "Lord Marshal Alexander Stack of His Grace's Navy. What's left of it."
LORD MARSHAL. HOW CONVENIENT.
YOU WILL CARRY A MESSAGE TO THE DUKE.
TELL HIM THAT THE NEXT TIME
HE SENDS A FORCE AGAINST ARENDELLE,
I WILL COME TO WESELTON.
I WILL FIND HIM.
I WILL BURN DOWN HIS PALACE,
RIP HIM INTO SMALL PIECES,
AND SCATTER HIS REMAINS OVER THE NORTH SEA.
YOU TELL HIM THAT FOR ME.
"Most gladly will I do so. However …" He gestured sadly around at the flotsam that was all that remained of the fleet. "… you may well believe he doesn't have a force left to send."
GIVE HIM THAT MESSAGE.
And the burning Being streaked away toward the zenith, winking out in the distance.
Lord Marshal Stack heaved an aggravated sigh and ordered, "Bring aboard as many of the survivors as we can hold. I want to be back in Weselton before nightfall tomorrow."
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End Note:
And that takes care of Weselton (and the three rogue Princes, who were part of the flotilla), at least in the short term. As Elsa mentioned previously, she doesn't expect the Duke to live very much longer, and trusts cooler heads to prevail in the future.
One more segment of the Epilogue to go! It's a good bit longer than this one, but wraps up a lot of loose ends. Stay tuned.