Arc 1- The Case of the Forged Silver Coins
Chapter 2-2
The sun shone on the surface of the lake, turning the water a beautiful azure. Azula held his breath, sinking deeper into the cold embrace of the lake water. The water was so clear. He could see the light shining on the surface of the lake. The rays fighting to light the deep depths below.
Azula sank deeper.
It was so quiet down here. A bubble escaped from his lips. Azula watched it travel to the surface above him. He grinned when the shadow of a boat covered the light.
He waited a beat, enjoying the silence. Then an oar struck the surface, making ripples in the water. It seemed that someone was anxious.
Azula kicked his legs, rising to the surface of the lake. He took in a deep breath when he could, and let it out, wiping water out of his face with his palms. He pushed his hair back and smiled at the two people leaning over the boat watching him.
“Tell me, are you hiding fish traits? Are you searching for a treasure in this lake? Think carefully before you answer.”
Azula grinned at the woman who smiled at him as she spoke. He trod water as he studied her familiar face.
Alva was twenty-eight, a mother of two, and her strawberry blonde hair was filled with braids, thanks to her family. Her husband ran the smithy at the Doriel ancestral home, while she managed the ancestral house. She took care of Azula’s meals and mended his clothes. He grew up with her and knew her hot temper. Had endured spankings from her when she was sixteen and he was naughty. She was like his big sister.
Azula truly could not afford to offend her.
“If I say I’m looking for treasure, what happens?” Azula asked, dipping his head back into the water, and sweeping his hair back away from his face.
“Then tomorrow morning, I’ll make sure Kalas gets men to drag this lake and empty it. Surely an empty lake will help you find the treasure faster,” Alva said.
“Big sis, wouldn’t that mean I’m responsible for the loss of all the fish in this lake?” Azula complained. “Let’s say I’m hiding fish traits and feel at home deep in the water.”
Alva laughed and Kalas held out his hand to Azula.
“We need to get back,” Kalas said. “A message has come from your father. There has been another robbery.”
Azula forgot his ploy to stay longer in the water and gripped Kalas hand. Kalas helped pull him out of the water, and he climbed onto the large flat passenger boat with a blue canvas shelter. He sat on a bench, took the heavy towel Alva handed him, and used it to dry off.
“What does my father’s message say?” Azula asked, dropping the towel on his lap, knowing Alva would have brought it along.
Azula took the dry white linen tunic Alva held out and wore it with practiced moves. He straightened the long sleeves to his wrists and stood. Alva handed Kalas the pair of clean white linen shorts and a pair of black trousers.
“I’ll get the note,” Alva said, moving to the blue canvas canopy to rummage in the bag she had brought and left on a bench there, her back turned to them.
Beyond the blue canvas canopy stood the oarsman steering the flat passenger boat to the private dock behind the Doriel ancestral home. He had also tied the little boat Azula used to come out to the larger one and it now trailed behind them.
Azula removed the wet linen shorts he used for swimming, wiped dry, and took the white shorts and trousers from Kalas. He pulled them on with impatience, hopping from side to side.
“Another robbery is bad for business. I’m guessing Papa wants me to deliver the next round, though we can’t keep losing shipments like this,” Azula said, finally pulling up his trousers.
He paused to tie the strings on his trousers and tucked one side of his tunic into them. Grabbing the heavy towel, he did his best to dry his hair. The strawberry blonde hair was braided on the sides, and the top was tied with a leather strip to make a messy ponytail. The length of this ponytail fell down to his shoulders. His hair would feel damp for a while yet.
Alva returned holding a folded letter and a long heavy wool dark coat with rabbit fur on the collar. She handed Azula the coat. He wore it because she worried he would catch a cold. He did not bother closing the wooden buttons on the coat and instead sat on the bench and took the letter from his father.
Azula broke the wax seal on the cover of the letter and unrolled the note.
‘There are traps on our usual routes. The cargo carriages marked by the enemy. Find a way to bring black ore to the city. Trust no one outside the clan. Make haste, the workshops in the city are running low. We will start losing income if we can't fulfill orders.'
“Someone is out to defame our Sura,” Azula said. “These robberies do not seem simple.”
Azula handed the letter to Kalas to read and picked up his wet linen shorts. Squeezing out excess water, he rolled them into a small bundle and slipped them into the bag Alva held out. He picked up the towel he had used, dried his hands and feet then placed the towel in the bag too.
He sat and Alva passed him a pair of knitted black socks and his usual boots.
“Taking a shipment to the capital with this climate is dangerous work,” Kalas said. “You’ll need Sennin and me with you.”
Azula wore his socks, and sunk his feet into his warm boots. He tied the laces and sat up, his gaze on the surface of the still lake. The sun was still high above, but the depths of the lake were dark again. He frowned and shook his head.
“No, you stay here with Magnus and the clan. I’ll take Sennin with me,” Azula said. “In case we run into trouble and need help, I can count on you.”
“Very well,” Kalas said, his lips set in a hard line of disapproval.
“Kalas, no matter what is going on in the capital, our most important asset is here,” Azula said, placing his hand on Kalas’s shoulder. “I trust you to protect our home.”
Kalas gave him a swift smile and shook his head.
“There is Lord Magnus,” Kalas reminded him.
“Lord Magnus is the same age as my father,” Azula said with a wide grin. “He is strong, but I don’t expect him to run along the docks to push everyone to action. All he knows is how to give orders. You will make sure they are fulfilled.”
“If he hears you say that about him, he will surely spank you,” Kalas said with a laugh.
“He might but he knows I’m right,” Azula said. “He’s not young anymore. He needs you to push people around.”
“Right,” Kalas said with a sigh, staring at the letter he held. “Twenty years old, and you sound like a veteran.”
“I should grow up faster because our Sura Mountain is coveted by too many. Protecting this place and our family is not easy,” Azula said, squeezing Kalas’s shoulder. He stood up to watch the boat approach the dock behind his beloved home.
“Our black ore is precious. Blacksmiths in the capital prefer it because it converts to iron bars with a higher percentage. I don’t have to mention how strong the steel made from our ore is. I can see why there are those who want to take it from us. Six cargo carriages stolen is no small feat.”
“Our enemy is strong,” Kalas said, standing next to Azula, his hands folded against his chest. “We need a good plan.”
“We need a genius plan,” Azula said as the oarsman navigated the boat so that the side of it stopped right at the dock.
“I’ll tell the ten kinsmen to find you,” Alva said, as Azula stepped up onto the dock and turned to take her hand.
“I will be in Yaitan’s workshop,” Azula said, once Alva was safely standing on the dock. “Don’t forget to tell Godfather.”
****
Huga Nedin watched his locksmith break the last lock on the Sura cargo carriages. A sigh of relief filled the men around him as the door opened to reveal the pure burnt ore found only in the Sura Mountain.
The five cargo carriages standing open in their hidden compound had carried enough to fulfill their plans. This sixth carriage would be shared out among the mercenaries in Huga’s team. It would fetch a handsome price when sold to blacksmiths outside the capital.
“What do we do with the cargo carriages?” Lian asked, drawing Huga’s gaze.
Lian was his most reliable man. He managed tasks without question. He would not ask about the cargo carriages without a reason.
“Why?” Huga asked.
“They are Sura property,” Lian said. “The clan is actively looking for them. This compound is hidden but there is no guarantee that it won’t be found. Our plan is still ongoing. We should discard the carriages in a place of convenience.”
“Convenience, you say,” Huga said, smiling as he turned back to the open cargo carriage. He reached in and took a piece of the burnt ore.
Yes, he had almost forgotten their true purpose at the thought of their incoming profits. This burnt ore had a larger role to play. Lian was right. The stage was coming along nicely, so why not use the carriages too.
Who in the capital did not know what a Sura cargo carriage looked like?
Huga chuckled.
“Lian, you have the best ideas,” Huga said with a nod. “Find three men to help you move the cargo carriages. Leave them somewhere the Sura Clan is able to find them. Somewhere that works for the grander plan. The yard behind the warehouse they keep in the middle of the capital is a great place.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Meanwhile, look out for another Sura cargo carriage,” Huga said. “We only needed six, but extra burnt ore is good for the pocket. They will be sending one out soon in order to cover the deficit. Now, everyone gets to work! Move this ore to our transport carriage.”
****
Sui Writes 
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