Tag: Empire of Lyria

Arc 1- The Case of the Forged Silver Coins

Chapter 3-1

Magnus rode his horse like a man possessed when he received news of Azula’s plan to counter the robberies plaguing the clan. He rode fast on busy cobbled paths, his assistant shouting out warnings along the way to save anyone who did not notice his haste.

Yaitan’s workshop was where Azula managed his devious plans. The young man was probably stirring up a large force of trouble. The thought of the consequences had Magnus urging his horse into a faster pace.

Yaitan’s workshop was hidden in a cave surrounded by tall evergreen trees. Azula discovered the workshop when he was twelve. He gifted the discovery to his master, Yaitan, and they bonded over the large deposits of ilmenite the two unearthed in the depths of the cave.

Azula was twenty this year. These two, master and student, had built up Yaitan’s Workshop into an experimental, risk-taking, genius center. Magnus felt sweat slide down his back every time he thought of Azula and Yaitan making plans.

Magnus jumped off his horse when he reached the cave entrance. The heavy wooden doors at the cave entrance were carved with intricate designs. A combination of Azula and Yaitan’s work. The doors were open and warm light indicated ongoing work. A strained shout reached him, and answering calls responded.

Magnus cursed under his breath and hurried into the warm workshop. It was almost dinnertime, and he would have preferred spending the next few hours listening to beautiful Rara sing. He walked through a team of five men standing between two long workbenches. Their attention was on a huge passenger carriage in the middle of the open space deeper in the cave.

The men moved when they noted Magnus, allowing him to walk closer to the massive passenger carriage taking up space in the middle of the large cave. The passenger carriage was built with a handsome mix of hardwood and iron. The iron twisted into intricate designs, weaving through the wood, making it look luxurious and sturdy at the same time. The four wheels on the carriage were doubled and wide. Strong enough to carry heavy weight.

Magnus frowned when he saw his nephew holding on to the handle of a massive wrench. Kalas stood next to him, providing support as they tightened a bolt on the shaft and hitching parts.

“That should hold it,” Azula said when they tagged once more and the bolt did not move. “I’ll make sure Sennin checks on it when we get to the Everlasting Port.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to come with you?” Kalas asked, taking the wrench from Azula and placing it on a holder on the table.

“They are coming along,” Azula said, waving to the five men Magnus had passed. “They helped put this carriage together. Each one knows how each of the parts work. Plus, they are the ones who will know how to stock the undercarriage with the ore we need. Kalas, don’t worry. This will work out. We’ll get to the capital in no time.”

“The in-between is what I’m worried about,” Kalas said, shaking his head as he reached for a cloth on the table to wipe the sweat off his forehead. “You’re not a warrior, Azula. None of us are.”

“We’ll worry about that when the time comes,” Azula said, his focus on the shaft.

“No wonder your Papa thinks I’ll spoil you to death,” Magnus said, drawing Azula’s immediate attention.  He turned around fast, his gaze widening when he saw Magnus standing a few feet away. “When were you going to fill me in on this plan?”

“When the carriage was onboard the ship,” Azula said with a wide grin. “Magnus, don’t worry so much—”

“What is the plan?” Magnus demanded, cutting him off.

“Magnus.”

“Tell me now, or I will lock you up in the main house for a month,” Magnus said.

Azula studied him for a minute. No doubt trying to decide how much he could leave out. Magnus glared at him and fought a grin when Azula gave a resigned sigh.

“You’re not going to like it,” Azula said. “It has to be done even though you don’t like it.”

“Tell me,” Magnus insisted. “Then I’ll decide what has to be done.”

Azula glanced at Kalas hoping for support, but Kalas shrugged and moved away from the carriage to join the five blacksmiths behind Magnus.

“Really,” Azula said, shaking his head at Kalas’ obvious abandonment. He pulled off a white cloth tucked into the belt at his waist and used it to wipe off sweat from the back of his neck.

“Fine,” Azula said, shaking his head. “Uncle Magnus, you come closer. I have to show you the inside of the carriage for you to understand the plan.”

Magnus removed his heavy jacket and handed it to his assistant. He walked around an open toolbox on the floor and joined his nephew at the elegant open door into the carriage.

Azula stood on the side, holding the door open with his left hand, and held out his right hand to Magnus.

“Welcome aboard, Uncle,” Azula said, giving him a formal nod.

Magnus bit back a laugh, his gaze on Azula’s callused hands, the palms covered with streaks of black and dirt. The more than capable hand so dear, he might murder anyone who dared harm this child’s hand. Magnus clasped Azula’s dirty hand with his, holding it tight as he climbed up the steps into the carriage.

The interior was spacious. The walls of the carriage were covered with a deep blue velvet. The benches were upholstered with deep blue velvet and were button-tufted. It looked like a rich man’s lair. The cushions laid out on the benches were designed for comfort.

Magnus sat on the bench facing the driver and watched Azula who chose to sit facing the door.

The carriage provided them with privacy to have a talk away from the men outside.

“What’s the plan?” Magnus asked, his gaze serious as he met Azula’s determined gaze.

“This carriage hides secret storage within the walls and the undercarriage. The black ore Papa needs is hidden there. The five men in there are the only people who know what this carriage hides. I’m going to ride it to Genad,” Azula said.

“Not alone,” Magnus said.

“Of course, I won’t be alone,” Azula said, shaking his head as he sat back, stretching his legs out. He let out a soft sigh. “I’ll take Sennin, six horses, the five men out there, a driver, and his helper. It’s enough of a spectacle. The journey to Genad will take too long as it is.”

Magnus studied Azula for a full minute, then looked at the luxurious carriage that now hid valuable ore. He could have never thought to do this to save the clan from thieves.

“How long have you worked on this carriage?” Magnus asked, curious as to how such a large project had gone unnoticed.

“This carriage is meant for Alise’s wedding,” Azula said, starting to touch the bench with his palm, only to stop when he noticed the dirt on his hands. “You know she’s going to bring Yemin to greet our parents. He’s her chosen mate and the next second to the chieftain. I wanted them to celebrate their day with style. I have been designing this carriage bit by bit. Too bad it’s now being used to save our ore.”

Magnus smiled.

“It’s good luck it will be used to save the clan’s ore,” Magnus said. “When you succeed, it will bring good luck to Alise and Yemin.”

Azula grinned at the mention of his sister and her chosen partner. Magnus loved the easy support between siblings. Alise loved her younger brother even more. This was why Magnus worried about Azula’s safety. Nothing could happen to this youngest chieftain’s son.

“You need protection,” Magnus said.

“I will have our five blacksmith’s with me,” Azula said. “Sennin is there too.”

“Not blacksmiths,” Magnus said, shaking his head. “You need warriors. Warmongers. People who are not squeamish about drawing blood. Our people are too soft. We have families and value peaceful existences. You need soldiers.”

“We don’t have those,” Azula said.

“Buy them at the port,” Magnus said, holding Azula’s gaze. “I mean it, Azula. Use the money I get from the mango selling if you don’t have spare silver.”

“Uncle Magnus, it’s not about the money,” Azula said. “You know good lieutenants are not easy to find. The port magistrate is corrupt. We can’t trust them to get us to the capital. Let alone fight off determined armed robbers.”

“They will fight them off for the right price,” Magnus said. “I’ll find you the gold to make sure it works out. Do this for me, and I’ll not oppose your plan.”

Azula stared at his dusty boots for a full minute before he let out a sigh.

“Finding a lieutenant will cost us time at the port,” Azula said.

“It should,” Magnus agreed. “It will also give you time to understand what else we don’t know about the people coming after us.”

“Okay,” Azula said, with a sigh. “I’ll do as you say.”

“Can you pull this trip off?” Magnus asked Azula.

Azula looked up then and met Magnus’s worried gaze. He smiled wide and nodded.

“Yes,” he said. His confidence made Magnus almost believe it too.

Magnus nodded and scratched his head.

“I can’t wait to hear what your father will have to say about this when he sees you. He’ll blame me for indulging you again. I’m warning you early. I’ll make you drink two barrels of wine at your wedding to pay me back for all this trouble.”

Azula laughed then, and Magnus grinned at the youthful sound filling the carriage.

****

Two days later, two hours before noon, Azula’s ship docked at the Endless Port and the crew started offloading the easier packages.  Azula stepped out of the ship with a lazy yawn, stretching his arms above his head as he walked. He dropped his hands when a short boy blocked his path and handed him a folded scroll.

Thanking the boy, Azula stepped to the side and unrolled the scroll to read the contents. It was a message from his father, asking him to visit the magistrate’s compound at the port.

The Naga State port was an entry point into the empire. Traders, visitors, immigrants, and travelers from other continents filled the port. Its fame won it the unofficial name of Endless Port.

The Naga State King tasked the port magistrate with the work of overseeing law and order in this vibrant port. He even handed over a military garrison and placed it under the magistrate’s direct command.

The magistrate used the officers in the port garrison to maintain peace and punish anyone who tried to cause trouble at the port. However, his dedication to the job left much to be desired.

Everyone making a living at the Endless Port knew not to trust the magistrate.

Which was why Azula stood frozen as he read his father’s second message.

“He wants me to report the theft to the magistrate here at Endless Port,” Azula said, turning to Sennin who joined him from the ship. “Has Papa lost his mind? What does he think the magistrate will do? It’s like asking me to confront the thieves in person.”

Sennin took the note and read it fast.

Azula looked around the busy dock. His frown depended as he wondered what had gotten into his father. A man with short strawberry-blonde hair carried a crate filled with mangoes into a large warehouse a few feet away.

The Sura Clan ran this docking station at the Endless Port. It was where their ships offloaded and received the cargo. The men and women who operated the port were all from Sura Island. They packed the cargo into transport carriages and seasoned drivers took it to the capital city of Genad. They also arranged cargo from the capital into the ships for transport to Sura Island.

This routine was ageless. Every member of the clan old enough to contribute had worked the system here at the Endless Port.

Suddenly, Azula was sure their age-old traditions had somehow opened them up to a new threat.

Sennin handed the note back, and Azula stuffed it into his pocket.

Azula adjusted the leather belt holding his trousers in place. He took a good look at their ship. Inside, in the cargo hold, hid their first attempt at a new transport carriage.

A transport carriage Azula hoped would fool the people doing their best to ruin them.

Now, all they had to was fulfill his promise to Magnus. He needed to find a stronger force to deal with an aggressive attack.

Magnus was always right. Their people were blacksmiths. They could beat iron, silver, gold, and any other metal into shape. However, they were no warriors.  Half of them were very softhearted. Their family life in the Sura village made it impossible to become cold warriors able to fight off a killing horde.

“What do we do now?” Sennin asked.

“Follow Magnus’s wishes,” Azula said, his gaze shifting away from their ship to the rest of the busy dock.

Azula nodded his greetings to familiar faces, which was everyone here. He had grown up knowing everyone who worked or ran a business at the Endless Port. This was why he paused when he noticed a pair of women sitting at the end of the boardwalk.

They looked too new, unfamiliar, and out of place. They sat on old wooden crates eating fried potatoes out of brown paper. A misshapen wooden stand was arranged before them, facing the main street. It looked like they were selling something, but their attention was on the Sura ship.

“We should find somewhere quiet,” Azula said. “There are too many eyes.”

Azula met Sennin’s gaze and nodded in the direction of the two women.

Sennin waited for a beat then with grace and tact. He glanced at the end of the boardwalk.

Azula noticed the two women had gained an interested customer.  The customer browsed their wares, but the two women made no effort to sell.

“Maybe your father has the right idea,” Sennin said, shaking his head.

His gaze shifted back to their ship.

“I asked everyone to hold on moving the carriage. They are going to take out crates filled with the mangoes Magnus sells to the inns around here.”

“Agreed,” Azula said. “Uncle Magnus was right. We need updated information. Let’s go to the nice inn in the middle of town where outsiders like to go. We’ll get something to eat. I’m hungry and they have the best sweet and sour roasted chicken.”

“Azula,” Sennin started to add more.

“It’s not like we can leave the port right now,” Azula said, using his thumb to point behind them. “They are probably going to follow us. There is a possibility they are with the people robbing us blind.”

“You know Alva packed your food,” Sennin said, as Azula turned and headed along the boardwalk to the main road.

“I will eat later when I’m locked up in the carriage we brought,” Azula said with a mischievous grin. “Come on, let’s head to Teba Inn.”

Sennin let out a sigh and followed Azula, hurrying after him with a deep frown.

“Our drivers have experienced twelve losses which have left their families devastated. Aren’t you worried we’ll endure a robbery?” Sennin asked as he caught up with Azula.

“I’m worried. I am scared of riding that carriage all the way to Genad. But, we don’t have a choice. We need to stop the robberies from happening. I think my plan will help us discover who is doing this. In any case, I also agree with Magnus’s suggestion. We need to find someone strong enough to help us fight back.”

“Someone like whom?”

Azula reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver piece. It was a pure silver coin. The first silver coin Azula ever made from a blade he forged at sixteen years old. He kept it with him for inspiration and good luck.

“Magnus suggested finding a lieutenant we can buy,” Azula said as he kept walking.

The trick was to find the right person. A lieutenant who was loyal to the empire. One who would help them fight thieves without demanding more than their agreed price.

Otherwise, Azula’s plan to catch the thieves would be for naught.

They walked by the two women who were now actively selling the cheap beaded jewelry laid out on their wooden stands. Azula ignored the pair and joined the foot traffic on the main road leading to the center of the port town.

“Sennin, don’t sulk,” Azula said when he glanced at his best friend and saw a visible frown and a pout on his lips. “I’ll buy you fried fish and sweet buns. Let’s fill our stomachs.”

Sennin clapped in excitement at the mention of fried fish and hurried to keep up with Azula’s easy stride.

****

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The Case of the Forged Silver Coins

Chapter 2-1

A majestic mountain stood in the middle of the Sura Island. Under this mountain, a series of tunnels existed. These tunnels were built in the hundreds of years the Sura Clan had called the island home. Generations came, passed their knowledge to the youngsters, and moved on. Youngsters grew up, taught their next generation. The cycle continued until mining and working with ore became a way of life for the Sura.

The Sura Clan lived with deep loyalties to family. Theirs was a community based on family first no matter the situation. The members of the clan lacked for nothing. There were no restrictions on love and marriage, ambition or spirit. They supported each other without question.

Hence, the Sura Clan nurtured skilled jewelers, tool artisans, weapon forgers, talented blacksmiths and many more. The only thing their chieftain, Marius Doriel, worried about was their small number compared to the other clans in the Lyria Empire. The Sura Clan was only two thousand, five hundred and twenty-three souls strong. Marius was in a constant bid to encourage marriage and child bearing to every Sura Clan member’s dismay.

It was lucky the passionate chieftain had moved to stay in the capital for the sake of their trade.

Marius lived with five hundred Sura people in the capital city. This group endured his constant nagging to procreate. Weddings were a usual practice during days of rest at Marius’ main home.  He even footed the wedding bill as long as a couple approached him with the intention to marry.

The Sura who remained on the island had an easier time, as they lived as they wished. However, the marriage bug caught the Sura quite early. Every month, the assistant chieftain hosted a marriage ceremony at the main hall in the center of the Sura Village on the island. Everyone hoped their numbers would grow and allow Marius some peace of mind.

Marius watched a young couple exchange rings before him and clapped when they smiled at each other before they kissed. He smiled wide too and nodded as the guests in his hall erupted into wild cheers, toasting the young couple’s happiness.

The couple ended their kiss and their peers pulled them to the large circle made in the middle of the room for a dance. It warmed Marius’s heart to see a new pair start a family in his clan.

“Have a drink, Marius,” Lasma said. “Come sit with me and let the young ones dance.”

Lasma was his wife and they had been married for twenty-five years. They gave the clan two children. A girl named Alise who was the next chieftain. Alise was twenty-four years old. And their son, Azula who was only twenty.

Of his two children, Marius worried about Azula most. His son was a skillful warrior and a talented blacksmith. Azula ran wild and preferred life at the Sura Mountain, swimming in the lake where their ancestral home stood, and eating sweet and sour chicken roasted by his dear godfather, Magnus.

Marius sometimes blamed his second cousin, Magnus, for allowing Azula such unbridled freedom. He was convinced Magnus was the reason Azula shunned any attempts to civilize him. He could only dream of seeing Azula dress in formal robes and stand in a room like this without causing trouble.

“Thinking about Azula?” Lasma asked, sitting next to him.

“How did you know?”

“You always have a frown when you think of Azula,” Lasma said, pressing the pad of her index finger on his forehead. “He is young, only twenty years of age. He does good work running our ancestral home and the mines without us. Give him time.”

“I hope daily that he will be able to support Alise in her work.”

“Alise is strong on her own,” Lasma said, her gaze shifting to their daughter across the room.

Alise stood surrounded by the members of the chief’s council, two men and two women. They looked in deep discussion. Alise spoke and the others listened to her with rapt attention.

“She grows to look like you every day,” Marius said, studying his eldest daughter.

Alise, like everyone in the Sura clan, had thick strawberry blonde hair. It grew long and she kept it in a tight braided ponytail. She had green eyes, an oval face, fair skin and a slender figure. She was five foot three, but her personality more than made up for the lack of height.

Alise was dressed in a beautiful light yellow dress with long skirts, and a gold knitted belt at her waist. The oval ilmenite jewel hanging at the end of the belt was the only indication of her station. Her smile was ready. Although when she was discussing business, it rarely made an appearance.

“She is managing the clan’s affairs,” Lasma said, with a wistful smile.

“Do you think she will choose her husband soon?” Marius asked, wondering when he was going to get to hold grandchildren.

Lasma chuckled.

“You told her you did not like Yemin,” Lasma said. “Alise and Yemin have been close for a year.”

Marius let out a huff at the mention of the strong warrior who helped them run the workshops in the capital city. Yemin was tall at six feet. He forged the best swords, second only to Azula, but he was conceited.

Marius worried he would make trouble for Alise, if they married.

“Why can’t she choose Juya?” Marius asked, his gaze on the young man standing next to Alise. “He is smart, manages our accounts and can tell apart precious tones with a single look. He dresses well, and is part of the council so he understands Alise’s responsibilities.”

“We are Sura, my love,” Lasma said, sitting back. She nibbled on carrot slice and smiled. “We follow our hearts when it comes to marriage. Don’t look down on Alise’s choice. She’s the only one who knows why Yemin is the right one.”

Marius sighed and shook his head when Lasma handed him a fresh carrot stick from the platter on the table before them.

“You’re right. Look at this, I’ve allowed you to turn me into a rabbit,” Marius complained as he ate the carrot slice.

“I’m nurturing your health,” Lasmas said. “When Alise comes to you with Yemin, promise to give them your consent.”

Marius grumbled but he agreed with a nod. The side door opened, and he turned to see his secretary rushing to him. He looked worried.

“What is it, Torak?” Marius asked.

Torak sighed as he came to a stop next to Marius. He was dressed down in leather trousers and a white cotton tunic. Noting the curious gazes everyone was giving him, he took in a deep breath and leaned in closer to Marius and Lasma.

“There has been another robbery,” Torak said. “The third one this past week. This last one makes it six missing cargo carriages in total. We are running short of burnt ore here in the capital. The workshops are behind on orders. The robbers killed the drivers. We must plan two more funerals.”

“Where is Yemin?” Marius asked.

“Yemin is on the route doing his best to guide the search for the six missing cargo carriages. He is also handling the funeral arrangements for the two affected families,” Torak said. “He told me to mention that the thieves might have other motives. The carriages have not made it to Genad City.”

A cloud of anxiety filled Marius’s chest as he glanced at Lasma. He was afraid Yemin was right. The uneasy feeling that had been plaguing Marius since the first robbery of their cargo carriages increased.

“Send a message to Azula,” Marius said to Torak, holding Lasma’s gaze. “Have Azula escort the next shipment of burnt ore in person. Tell him to take precautions.”

“Yes, Chief,” Torak said, starting to leave, but then he paused. “What about Yemin and the men on the route?”

“Ask Yemin to concentrate on the funerals,” Marius said, his frown deepening. “They will not find the cargo carriages. Let Azula handle the robbery issue. When the funerals end, Yemin should bring me a report of how much black ore is left in each of our workshops. We need him here handling our failed orders.”

“Okay,” Torak hurried off.

Lasma took Marius’s left hand and squeezed.

“This is not the first time we’ve encountered theft,” Lasma said. “But this episode is extreme and vicious. We also cannot find the cargo carriages. What do you think these thieves want?”

“I’m afraid whatever it is does not bode well for the Sura,” Marius said, his gaze on Alise.

As though sensing his unease, Alise excused herself from the council members and made her way to their table.

“Another robbery?” Alise asked when she was close enough, keeping her voice low.

“Yes,” Marius said with a grim nod. “We have now lost twelve of our seasoned drivers. The transport team is losing morale.”

Alise leaned on the table. She picked up the tail of her gold belt and played with the woven gold. She bit her lip in thought, and then frowned.

“Yemin suspects the ore thefts are tied to the cases of forged silver coins,” Alise said. “It’s a speculation—”

“A dangerous one,” Marius said, sitting up straight as he studied Alise. “We cannot be implicated in silver coin forgery, Alise. Our clan will suffer enormous ruin.”

“I know,” Alise said, shaking her head. “But what if the person robbing our black ore is helping the forgers? What should we do?”

“Do the best we can to thwart the culprit’s plan,” Lasma said, answering for Marius. “Help the blacksmiths with inventory in all our workshops. Make sure the ledgers are completed. Melt any molds we have that make small coins. Your dad might need to visit the magistrate’s office to report this case.”

Alise pushed off the table and started to leave.

“Alise,” Marius said, making her stop to look at him. “Yemin is a good man. Ask him to visit our manor for a meal when he has finished with the funerals. Tell him he will like your mother’s sweet and sour chicken. He had better show up if you’re ever to help him braid his hair.”

Alise smiled wide and ran to kiss Marius’s right cheek.

Marius grinned with pleasure.

“Thank you, Papa,” Alise said, then hurried away.

Lasma squeezed Mariu’s hand, and Marius glanced at her.

“Forging silver coins is treason,” Marius said, hoping to ease her concern. “If someone is plotting against us, we need to be careful. Anything could happen. You are right. It’s best to report the matter of stolen black ore to the magistrate. Then, I shall reach out to the old Draeya general from Naga County. He may have a solution.”

“He is a good man,” Lasma said. “I’m more concerned for Azula. He will have to face these thieves on the way to the capital. Do you think he will make it?”

Marius smiled.

“Azula outsmarts wild tigers in our mountain. He designed the tracks that run our mines and even the cargo carriages we use. Azula might not catch the thieves, but they will not rob him,” Marius said, his voice filled with pride. “He won’t give them the chance.”

“So much praise, I almost can’t believe you were worried about him earlier,” Lasma said, grinning.

“Azula is Azula,” Marius said, his voice wistful. “I’ll be glad to have him in the capital. Maybe we can get him to wear a nice pair of clothes like Juya. I think Azula would look better.”

Lasma chuckled.

“Azula is more likely to kiss Juya for dressing that well.”

“If he would make an effort,” Marius said, “Juya might think of kissing him too.”

Lasma laughed then and shook her head.

“I bet he is neck-deep in mud at the moment, making trouble for Magnus,” Marius speculated.

“Or climbing trees, and ripping his tunics,” Lasma countered. “Poor Alva is constantly sewing his clothes.”

“And Kalas and Sennin are always chasing after him, hoping he doesn’t break his legs,” Marius said with a sigh that descended into a chuckle. “I truly do miss him.”

****

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