Mark of the Wind: Part 1

Hero of Altear

Chapter 6:

The Sickle Moon Pirate captain's first order of business upon waking up was apparently to hunt down Dragon and slap him off his feet. Which she did with one strike to the amusement of the other cadets and Dragon's shock. Tiny but strong.

"Why did you drag me here? My crew is dead! I should be dead with them!" she shouted.

Dragon stared at her for a second with his hand unconsciously rising to touch the assaulted cheek. Then he turned angry.

"Because you dying there would serve no one and I saw what you were doing to those boats. It would have been a waste! We're going to need every fighter we can find. I'm sorry about your crew but dying was not the answer."

Maryanne scoffed. "As if a Marine would ever be sorry about a pirate captain's crew. In case you forgot, we're on opposite sides of the law. You're supposed to be hunting and executing us yourself."

"Well we're on the same side of the wall now, so I can express some sympathy for your loss."

Lance stared at Dragon as silence fell between the two. That sounded dangerously close to a joke on Dragon's part and Dragon was not the type to joke. He was serious to a fault. Lance was the one that had dedicated himself to pulling the stick out of his friend's ass. Which was going to be quite the challenge. From what he had experienced with the young man, that stick was wedged up in their pretty far.

Maryanne snorted and slapped his other cheek, knocking him flat again. Good thing he hadn't properly climbed back to his feet. He didn't have as far to go before landing. "You're a real comedian," she said in a monotone then stormed away.

"What I say?" demanded the confused young man while rubbing the other cheek, while remaining on the ground. It had sounded like she had made more of a connection with the second strike.

"Dude, think over your conversation. Why you chose now to come up with a zinger of a pun, I'll never know," replied Lance. Dragon just looked at him, not understanding and Lance threw up his hands and walked away. Sometimes there was no helping the man.

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However, Dragon's unintentional blunder with Maryanne was the only humorous thing to be found in their situation. They were surrounded by Kriegans whom they could only assume were here for the vast wealth that the breadbasket of the West Blue held. Altear was the largest piece of land in all the oceans. If one walked following the shore it could take weeks to return to their starting point. Going across country took days. Horses were required to travel and carry wagons of food to the capital where it was all stored.

Altear's landscape was variable and ranged from soaring mountains with year round snow caps, diverse forests that ranged from the conifers in the upper elevations of the mountains to the deciduous trees of the foothills, rolling planes of grass reached to the sea broken only by rivers, farms and villages. Only the northern most reaches held any tropical plants along with a great barrier reef that prevented any ship from making landfall on that side. Altear was the source of seventy-five percent of West Blue's food.

Altear's power hold over the West was the reason the World Government forbade Altear to possess its own standing army. Altear had the ability to feed and fund a rival military power, one that would threaten the World Government's hold over the region. Not to mention their ability to feed West Blue itself, meant they could force the whole Blue to bend to their will. Most of the other islands could not grow enough to support their populations, though they possessed plenty of mineral wealth to make up for it. Altear didn't need that wealth, it could live without it, but the islands couldn't survive without Altear. The World Government thus needed to stay in control of Altear at all times if they wanted to avoid a rival world power.

However, that also meant a threat to Altear was a threat to the entirety of West Blue. If anyone else gained control of Altear, they could force West Blue to do whatever they wanted, and the nations' mineral wealth would be ideal for weapons crafting. The Kriegans were probably here for the traded wealth or possibly even to take the nation hostage to force the World Government to pay an unheard-of ransom for Altear's release or face famine and rioting in West Blue. It had happened twice before. It was rumored it was why the Kriegans were one of the most powerful, wealthiest and long-living pirate fleets in West Blue. It was them that had done the first two raids.

It looked like they were seeking a third funding boost.

With volunteer militia that only met and trained once a month on the weekends at best, city guards that were more for maintaining law and order on the shore and a unit of cadets fresh from the Marine academy to defend it, Altear was in dire trouble. The great walls of the citadel were the last line of defense. If they fell, Altear was finished.

Most of the citizens of the port city were now within the walls. If these walls were breached the only remaining stronghold was the palace itself and there wasn't room for the people. The citadel was packed as it was. It would have been crowded on any day as this was center of trade for the entire nation, but harvest had just finished, and many farmers, hunters, and traders were in town to trade. People who only came during this time and would have been further inland any other time of the year. The potential loss of life, should the walls fall, was staggering to comprehend. No, the Royals would not abandon their people and hide away in the inner stronghold should the walls fail, they would not abandon their people. Should the walls fail, the King would surrender immediately to all of the Kriegans' demands.

Citizens that had remained further inland were, without a doubt, racing for inner keeps as a precaution, but the pirates weren't likely to target them. The keeps were too far inland and often merely the entrance to large underground caverns, much easier to defend from intruders even if they breached the gates. The Kriegans didn't have horses and every horse had been used in the evacuation, preventing them from acquiring any. They couldn't traverse the large landscape in pursuit of landlocked refugees. Those people were the safest in Altear. The pirates' goal was the capital.

Rams slammed the locked gates. They would hold for now. But everything had a give point. The rams would break through eventually, it was just a question of when, hopefully not before the Marines returned. If they could keep the gates sealed, they would be fine. The militia, guards and cadets could easily prevent the walls from being scaled with diligence and they had enough food to wait out the pirates for months. Even if the messenger birds had not made it through, the Marines would eventually return.

Then the prince gathered every fighter at his disposal regardless of where they hailed from for a war meeting. The cadets and sailors were included, and Maryanne stood among them. She may have been salty over being rescued but Dragon's words must have hit home. She was going to help their defense. Prince Oliver looked relieved to see her attendance, then he focused on the gathering.

"I believe we can hold them until our fleets return, our engineering chiefs insists they are using the wrong kind of rams to harm our gates inside of a year of constant pounding," said the prince.

Lance smiled, glad for that bit of good news. Then he frowned as a thought occurred to him. "That seems rather sloppy of them, not to make sure they have the right rams," he muttered, reluctant to speak his thoughts before his superiors. He, unlike Helgram and Dragon, didn't have parental protection within the ranks.

"I agree, for an organization as long-lived and successful as they are, you would think they would remember to bring the right rams," said Dragon in a normal tone that everyone heard.

Lance wondered at Dragon's gumption sometimes.

"You think so, too," said the Prince, ignoring the looks his men threw at the cadet for his comment. "I thought so as well, and my captain agreed with me." He gestured to the gray bearded city guard standing next to him. "I can't help but feel this was poorly planned."

"They are pirates after all," said Helgram with a dismissive wave, as if that explained everything. "Drunk off prior success, perhaps, and not thinking things through like they should."

"Somehow I find that a pirate group that evolved into a major organization that lasted consecutive generations when most don't survive the loss of their initial captain would not make such a short-sighted mistake," said Lance as he rolled his eyes. Helgram glared and whatever newfound respect the pair had found for each other was lost in those seconds. Dragon let out a sigh of resignation.

The prince frowned, the drama between the two cadets going over his head or, more likely, ignoring it since it was irrelevant to the current situation. "It does come across as a rookie move. And this is not their first attack on this citadel before. We've improved since the initial two invasions, but this doesn't seem to even acknowledge the strategies of those successes."

"Don't cities this big have an elaborate sewer system?" said Maryanne. She wrinkled her nose. "It certainly doesn't smell like its lacking anything less than the latest in indoor plumbing technology."

"How good are the defenses in the sewers?" asked Dragon, realizing what the pirate captain was getting at.

Lance wished he had paid closer attention to how waste was disposed of at the academy. He only recalled it had been rather convenient, especially compared to the chamber pot system in his home village. He had not wanted to stick out any more than he already did as a recruit from a poor village by asking about such things. Fortunately, Dragon and Maryanne seemed to have an idea what they were talking about.

The gruff captain of the guards replied, "The tunnels are numerous but narrow, and run deep underground to open up further out underwater. We have a fan system the forces the water to flow out the tunnel even though the pipe is exposed to seawater. Grates guard the areas below the wall."

"I can't imagine those grates aren't potential dams. You must have access to clean them and clear the tunnels of backed up debris," said Dragon.

"Dragon! Stop acting like an interrogator, you're just a cadet!" snapped the Rear-Admiral.

"I will allow it!" snapped the Prince in return, glaring at Mester. "Not asking questions of the obvious is probably how you made the error of letting our fleet get lured away. Honestly! Seeing such an inquisitive mind among these youngsters is reassuring after their commanding officer bumbled his responsibilities. I will not allow you to smother their thinking. We need more free-thinking men among the Marines, to counter the corrupt and the incompetent that your precious Order Absolute breeds and protects!"

The Rear-Admiral flinched back and ground his teeth. He was only at that meeting because the Prince didn't trust him to wait anywhere where he wasn't being supervised, and the Prince had said as much when he called the meeting.

Lance, smelling blood, decided to do some knife twisting of his own. In a voice meant to be heard he said, "And Dragon did question that decision, too… and got reprimanded for doing so."

Silence ticked for several seconds as everyone, reminded of the Rear-Admiral's full incompetence, glared as one with naked contempt at the man, who, in turn, looked like he was caught between the desire to shoot Lance and sink into the floor. Lance caught sight of Helgram smirking. Dragon on the other hand looked like he wished everyone would move on.

Guess he's not the type to harp on past mistakes once they've been dealt with, thought Lance. Or he just doesn't see the point of it. What a sweet guy.

Then he thought about it some more. Or perhaps Dragon didn't like all the attention he was receiving every time someone brought it up. Yeah, that was probably it.

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The Prince eyed the man coolly then glanced back at the cadets. While most seem the usual type, ones that would never aspire to more than the lower ranks and were there for the paycheck, a few showed potential.

The one with the long slate gray hair tied in a braid seemed to possess the same arrogant attitude as all troublesome officers, but there was a cool intelligence in his eyes that indicated a schemer. One that plotted an enemy's demise while engaging in small talk with that very person. It was a little troubling as schemers often grew to become trouble for entirely different reasons.

Then there was the brown-haired youth that liked to joke around but seemed to possess an understanding of the intricacies of politics.

Finally, of course there was the black-haired youth, that the imbecile Mester had called Dragon, with forward personality, strong will and reckless impulses. Each one held potential to be a force of great good and climb the ladder of authority. If they could just maintain their current idealism as they ascended, they could change the current heading of the Marines.

That being said, the Prince had seen countless potential bearing youth come through Altear only to be ground into dust and jaded beyond compassion by their actions of their superiors. He would need to give these cadets some special attention before the Marines could destroy their good will and idealism. To give them tools to stand strong in the face of all that corruption. None of the previous had remained in Altear long enough nor had reason to be approached by the Prince. He could do nothing to influence them. Perhaps that had been intended. With the siege, however, he might have time to do just that.

"There are ways to access the grates and the fans for such maintenance," replied the captain of the guard, breaking the awkward silence that had formed.

"What about smugglers? Every big city has them," asked Maryanne.

The captain gave her a wiry smile as the Prince stifled a snort. Trust the criminal to notice the criminal origins of a defense's weak point. "Because, we do expect smuggling, we have an extra set of grates that are pulled into place in the event of an invasion so the smugglers can remove the regular grates without leaving us vulnerable. They're very polite about it and will even clean the grates for us. We can always tell which tunnels they are using after a while because those tunnels won't get backed up."

The Prince noticed the brown-haired cadet hastily covering his mouth, his body shaking, probably to suppress a laugh. It was amusing once you heard it out loud. Altear had always been very practical in its approach to the black market. The guards made a game of running them out of the tunnels they occupied, and the smugglers moved to another set where they could make their runs for a few months before their path was revealed. The change in venue usually occurred around the time an unused set of tunnels needed some extra special attention.

"I have already dispatched our men to properly seal off the tunnels, so any attempts to use the smuggler's path isn't going to work," continued the captain of the guards. "Though, they may not have realized that from their research. The smugglers would not want to ruin their relationships with us by outing their routes to non-smugglers. They know if they betray Altear they could lose more than their business and it won't necessarily be us taking it from them."

"How deep are the tunnels running beneath the wall?" asked Dragon. The Prince smiled, eager to start work on such a dedicated cadet. He was already acting like a commanding officer should. At any other time, this would be an inappropriate breach of boundary, but the Rear-Admiral and his personal assistant were the only Marine Officer left at Altear after the fleet was dispatched, and the prince was loathed to trust either after this fiasco. The lead cadet was the next highest of the Marines. Even if including the Marines was more ceremonial because it was just two officers and a handful of cadets, but protocol was everything with the World Government when it favored them.

"Fifty feet, so placing explosives would be equally pointless," said the captain of the guard. Anticipating the cadet's next thought he added, "It's through bedrock. The sewers were a marvel of modern ingenuity when they were created because of how difficult it was. There aren't any explosives that can break through fifty feet of rock to collapse the walls above. The walls are thick, and the ground will not crumple that easily. All they would wind up doing is sealing off that tunnel."

"Maybe that was what they were counting on, and we're just one step ahead," said the Prince relieved. "Not bad plans, they were just missing some critical information, that's all."

The black-haired cadet continued to look bothered but said nothing more. The Prince eyed the young man again. He certainly wanted to speak with him some more in the days to come. The was an aura around him that made him stand out in the Prince's eyes, though he couldn't put his finger on what it was precisely he was detecting.

It was just the first day of what would become known at the Siege of Altear and it would last for three weeks. Unfortunately, it would not remain as benign as originally predicted.

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I know there is a bit of a recap on Altear's significance and the Kreigans but I couldn't bring myself to get rid of it.