bed.
“If you all will be so kind as to follow me, we shall have a
look at the damage that we have wrought.” Jinzan stooped to pick up the one
remaining cannonball. “And we also have a bit of a puzzle ahead of us.
Somewhere in the gardens, there are two more of these. Familiarize yourselves
with the look of them, and let us see about finding where they have gone.”
Jinzan then passed the cannonball around, and let everyone
have a turn examining it. He had little doubt the shots would be easy enough to
find; it was just more showmanship. Let them see the cannonball, and wonder
that such a small thing had caused so much havoc.
At the head of the assembly as they walked down toward the
wall, Jinzan smirked.
* * * * * * * *
That same evening, after the various foreigners had departed
with dreams of cannons in their eyes, Jinzan sat on his own terrace with a
glass of Halaigh wine in his hand. He was accompanied by Varduk Steelraven and
his wife Tuleen, as well as his own three wives, Nakah, Frenna, and Zaischelle.
It was a small, reserved celebration of a great many promising deals ahead with
the trade nations of the Aliani Sea.
They dressed warmly against the cool evening air, but the
smell of the nearby sea made it pleasant despite a bit of chill. Down below in
the gardens, Jinzan’s children played with Varduk’s. The children laughed and
shouted, making the palatial estate feel homey rather than intimidating. Of all
the sounds that Jinzan associated with Zorren, it was the one he had missed the
most during his time away among the goblins.
“Listen to them down there,” Jinzan remarked. “Did we make
such riots at their age? I think not.”
“Perhaps we did, and do not remember,” Varduk answered. The
black-bearded mercantile genius had known Jinzan for over twenty winters, when
they had fought together in the Freedom War. There were few men in the world
Jinzan knew or trusted so well.
“I think not. I think we laughed and shouted, true, but
those are the sounds of freeborn children, who have never lived under Kadrin
rule,” Jinzan said. “There is no fear in them. There are no secrets to keep.
Should any man take issue with their manner of dress or how they address some
soldier, a magistrate will stand between them and brutal punishment, not some
Kadrin lord. They could never tell you the difference themselves, but I hear
it.”
“Jinzan, you should drink more often. We can make a poet of
you yet if you loosen your tongue more often,” teased Nakah, Jinzan’s second
wife.
With the population of able-bodied men vastly depleted by
the Freedom War, the Megrenn High Council had decreed that men might take two
wives each, except for the Liberators. The Liberators were the heroes of the
rebellion, and might take as many wives as they could find women who would have
them. Despite their hatred for their Kadrin oppressors, they had learned the
lesson that strong blood begets strong blood. Nakah Fehr was born in the
faraway Painu Islands. Her father had been one of the merchant princes who
threw in with the Megrenn when it seemed clear they would win their freedom. He
had offered his eldest daughter as a gift to strengthen relations between Painu
and Megrenn. Nakah had skin the color of walnut wood, with striking green eyes
like a cat’s, which stood out from her dark skin. In the sixteen summers since,
she had barely aged in Jinzan’s eyes.
“As you prefer,” Jinzan replied, taking a large swallow from
his glass, drawing a chuckle from his companions.
“What will the world be like, once Kadrin surrenders?” asked
Tuleen Steelraven, a plump woman who ran a third of Varduk’s trading empire for
him. She had been a beauty in her youth, but traded the primping and preening
of her vapid contemporaries for a life of ledgers and business dealings after
her marriage. She loved her husband for teaching her his trade rather than
expecting her to just tend to babes and look pretty.
“Better, once it has
“If you all will be so kind as to follow me, we shall have a
look at the damage that we have wrought.” Jinzan stooped to pick up the one
remaining cannonball. “And we also have a bit of a puzzle ahead of us.
Somewhere in the gardens, there are two more of these. Familiarize yourselves
with the look of them, and let us see about finding where they have gone.”
Jinzan then passed the cannonball around, and let everyone
have a turn examining it. He had little doubt the shots would be easy enough to
find; it was just more showmanship. Let them see the cannonball, and wonder
that such a small thing had caused so much havoc.
At the head of the assembly as they walked down toward the
wall, Jinzan smirked.
* * * * * * * *
That same evening, after the various foreigners had departed
with dreams of cannons in their eyes, Jinzan sat on his own terrace with a
glass of Halaigh wine in his hand. He was accompanied by Varduk Steelraven and
his wife Tuleen, as well as his own three wives, Nakah, Frenna, and Zaischelle.
It was a small, reserved celebration of a great many promising deals ahead with
the trade nations of the Aliani Sea.
They dressed warmly against the cool evening air, but the
smell of the nearby sea made it pleasant despite a bit of chill. Down below in
the gardens, Jinzan’s children played with Varduk’s. The children laughed and
shouted, making the palatial estate feel homey rather than intimidating. Of all
the sounds that Jinzan associated with Zorren, it was the one he had missed the
most during his time away among the goblins.
“Listen to them down there,” Jinzan remarked. “Did we make
such riots at their age? I think not.”
“Perhaps we did, and do not remember,” Varduk answered. The
black-bearded mercantile genius had known Jinzan for over twenty winters, when
they had fought together in the Freedom War. There were few men in the world
Jinzan knew or trusted so well.
“I think not. I think we laughed and shouted, true, but
those are the sounds of freeborn children, who have never lived under Kadrin
rule,” Jinzan said. “There is no fear in them. There are no secrets to keep.
Should any man take issue with their manner of dress or how they address some
soldier, a magistrate will stand between them and brutal punishment, not some
Kadrin lord. They could never tell you the difference themselves, but I hear
it.”
“Jinzan, you should drink more often. We can make a poet of
you yet if you loosen your tongue more often,” teased Nakah, Jinzan’s second
wife.
With the population of able-bodied men vastly depleted by
the Freedom War, the Megrenn High Council had decreed that men might take two
wives each, except for the Liberators. The Liberators were the heroes of the
rebellion, and might take as many wives as they could find women who would have
them. Despite their hatred for their Kadrin oppressors, they had learned the
lesson that strong blood begets strong blood. Nakah Fehr was born in the
faraway Painu Islands. Her father had been one of the merchant princes who
threw in with the Megrenn when it seemed clear they would win their freedom. He
had offered his eldest daughter as a gift to strengthen relations between Painu
and Megrenn. Nakah had skin the color of walnut wood, with striking green eyes
like a cat’s, which stood out from her dark skin. In the sixteen summers since,
she had barely aged in Jinzan’s eyes.
“As you prefer,” Jinzan replied, taking a large swallow from
his glass, drawing a chuckle from his companions.
“What will the world be like, once Kadrin surrenders?” asked
Tuleen Steelraven, a plump woman who ran a third of Varduk’s trading empire for
him. She had been a beauty in her youth, but traded the primping and preening
of her vapid contemporaries for a life of ledgers and business dealings after
her marriage. She loved her husband for teaching her his trade rather than
expecting her to just tend to babes and look pretty.
“Better, once it has
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