“Make new friends, but keep the old. Those are silver, these are gold.”
- Joseph Parry
Chapter 7 – Black Gold
Gold has almost universally been considered the most precious element. In both color and object it has been used to symbolize wealth, power, and most importantly, perfection. It represents great value. If we value others, we may treat them with “the golden rule.” We value moments of peace; therefore, “silence is golden.” In Greek mythology, “the golden fleece” is the long desired treasure.
Even within the tenants of Christianity, where greed is considered a sin, the Book of Genesis describes Abraham to be rich in gold, and Moses was instructed to cover the Mercy Seat of the Ark of the Covenant with pure gold. Perhaps most notably, gold was one of the three gifts given to the newborn Christ by the wise men.
However, it is important to remember that it was not the only gift. All that glitters is not gold.
Napoli was a sprawling mess, infesting one bank of the Ocean inlet and spreading like a muddy sickness onto the other, the bright sky abo smudged with the smoke of countless fires and dotted with scavenging birds. Despite her title, Isabelle was still inexperienced. She had expected the home of the Black King, the wealthiest man in the world, to be a bit more…glamorous.
Castle Black stood tall on a hill over the river, gilded statues carved upon its vast roof beams, the wall around it made from polished dark stone. Crowding outside the fortress were wooden buildings ringed by a fence of stout logs, the armor of castle guards glinting at the walkway. Crowding outside that, a chaos of tents, wagons, shacks, and temporary dwellings of horrible wretchedness sprawled out over the blackened landscape in every direction.
“Disgusting,” Elijah muttered, covering his nose with his sleeve. The Queen’s Eye held little love for low society, and anyone would be hard pressed to find society lower than the citizens of Napoli.
Two huge, squat stone towers had been thrown up on either side of the waterway and a web of chains strung between them, links of black iron spiked and studded, bowing under the weight of crashing water, snarled up with driftwood and rubbish, stopping dead all traffic at the Blackport.
“The Black King has fished up quite a catch with his iron net,” Amelia, the Queen’s voice, said in her usual singsong tone.
Isabelle had never seen so many ships. They bobbed on the waterway, and clogged the wharves, and had been dragged up on the banks in tight-packed rows stripped of their masts. They were ships from the North and Jade Empire. There were ships from Memorium and Britannia. There were strange ships which must have come up from the southern Badlands, dark-hulled and far too fat bellied for the trip over the Tall Sea. There were even the towering galleys of the Church, dwarfing the Autumn Rose as it glided towards the harbor.
“Will he want our help?” Isabelle asked her comrades. She did not fancy staying in Napoli for long. It smelled a lot better in the stories.
“Certainly he’ll want it, as we want his.” Elijah frowned up towards Castle Black. “Will he demand it, is the question.” He had demanded it of many others. The harbor filled itself with sour-faced men from around the world, all mired in Napoli until King Ambrose chose to loosen the waterway’s chains. They lazed in sullen groups about slumping tents and under rotten awnings, staring at everything with hardened eyes, the newest arrivals in particular. As the trio moved closer in they saw skinned carcasses dangling from a mast raised in the middle of the square, gently swinging and swarming with flies.
“Lycans?” Amelia asked dreamily, not seeming too bothered by the grisly scene.
Elijah shook his head. “Vampires.”
“What?” Isabelle had no love for Black Court snakes, but she could see no reason for their King to skin them. Elijah gestured towards some letters scraped into a wooden sign. “They defied King Ambrose’s orders and tried to leave. Others are discouraged from following their example.”
“Ugh. Why does Queen Katarina want the help of a man like this?” Isabelle grimaced.
“What she wants and what she needs may be different things…” Amelia responded.
A dozen armed men were forcing their way through the chaos of the docks. In stark contrast to the rest of the people here, their black armor was polished to a shine and they looked as though they stepped straight out of some golden age of heroes. The captain stopped before them and bowed gracefully, “I am servant to Ambrose, the Black King.”
Isabelle cleared her throat, “I am –“
“You are Countess Isabelle Afiera, the Queen’s Blade. The King has given me orders to conduct you to his hall.”
Isabelle and Elijah exchanged a glance. “Should I be honored or scared?”
The man bowed again. “I advise you to be both, and prompt besides.”
Elijah leaned in close to Isabelle and whispered to her ear, “Be careful. Even by the ruthless standards of the four courts the Black King is known as a ruthless man. Do not put yourself in his power.”
Isabelle looked to the great chains strung across the waterway, then to those dangling bodies swinging and could only shrug. “We’re all in his power now.”
---
The Cathedral of St. Joseph was a humble building, situated in the western corner of Memorium away from the hustle of those working on and around the river. Good Father Abel was sitting peacefully in the Church garden enjoying his afternoon tea when he heard that familiar sound.
Thud! Though soft, the sound echoed across the whole church.
No! Father Abel thought in horror. No it’s too soon!
Thud! Again, the same sound, louder this time.
Lord Almighty why have you forsaken me? She was supposed to be gone the whole year!
Thud! Again the sound, followed by a louder crashing sound as the Church’s door sprang open and Captain Ellie the famed crusader adventurer walked into the hallway, golden hammer shining brightly in her left hand, “Hey Padre, did you miss me?” she chirped.
“O-oh. Captain Ellie. Back so soon?” Father Abel forced a welcoming smile. “H-how was the trip? Find many sacred treasures?”
Ellie frowned at that. “Well—“ she began, and then her hammer scoffed. Father Abel had seen it many times, but still couldn’t quite get used to it. “No, the trip was a complete waste of time” it chuckled.
“Quiet you!” Ellie yelled, and slammed the hammer against the marble flooring. Father Abel whimpered. His church had its interior redesigned just two weeks ago and stone masons were not cheap. “So you’ll be staying here a while then?” Abel asked, his heart sinking.
“No,” she responded. Abel’s heart soared. “See I think I figured out the problem. I keep taking crusaders with me, but I’ve had it backwards all along! The treasures are clearly hiding from their greed!” Ellie nodded, as if she had in fact figured everything out. Abel thought it best not to mention that she too was a crusader. “So this time I’ll be taking alchemists with me. They can’t use the holy weapons so they have no want for them!”
“Erm…” Father Abel couldn’t help but wonder how she would possibly get any blood alchemists to join her for the very same reason. “Oh, and of course you too Padre! You’re my good luck charm!”
All the color drained from Father Abel’s face. “M-me? Oh no, I couldn’t possibly –“
“Nonsense! Besides you’re looking a little pale Padre, some time in the sun would do you some good!”
“But I –“
“Well off we go!” Ellie lifted Father Abel onto her shoulders with inhuman strength and charged out of the church doorway.
---
Castle Black seemed even bigger on the inside, its ribs fashioned from the same black stone that made up its exterior, shafts of sunlight filled with floating dust spearing down from the windows high above. There was a long fire pit but the flames burned low and the echoing space seemed chill after the heat outside.
King Ambrose was much more ordinary looking than Isabelle had expected. He was handsome enough, like most their kind, with long black hair and even darker eyes. He was not a big man, and he wore no jewels and boasted no weapon. He had no terrible frown upon his pale face, only a stony blankness. There was nothing she could have described to make him seem fearsome to a listener, and yet he was fearsome. More so, and more, the closer they were led across that echoing floor.
By the time she stood a dozen strides from his throne, Isabelle feared King Ambrose more than anyone she had ever met.
“Countess Isabelle, Countess Amelia, Count Elijah.” His voice was dry and whispery as old papers and sent a sweaty shiver down her back. “The servants of the Red Court, high is our honor at your visit. Welcome to Napoli, Crossroads of the World.” His eyes moved from Elijah, to Amelia, and back to Isabelle, and he reached down to stroke the ears of a vast three-headed hound curled about the legs of his throne. “It is strange you come so lightly attended.”
Isabelle did feel somewhat vulnerable. As well as that monster of a dog there were many guards scattered about the hall, with bows and curved swords, tall spears and black armor.
If Elijah was overawed, the Queen’s Eye did not show a grain of it. “We know we will want for nothing in your presence, your Majesty.”
The Black King nodded, “Nor will you. How is the Rose Princess, excuse me, the Rose Queen, Katarina?”
“She is well, Black King. She speaks often of her desire to visit Napoli again,” Elijah lied.
“Not too soon, I hope! My treasury still bears the scars of her last visit.”
“Perhaps we can forge an agreement that will mend those scars and make your treasury swell besides?” Wealth was a different thing to every person, but always a good thing.
A pause. “Is that why you have traveled so far, Count Elijah? To make my treasury swell?”
“We have come seeking help.”
“Ah, even the Rose Princess seeks my great bounty.” Another pause. Isabelle felt a game was played between these two. A game of words, but no less skillful than a bout with swords. And even more dangerous. “Name your desire then. As long as she does not seek allies against her sister, Jasmine.”
Elijah’s smile did not slip by so much as a hair. “I should have known your sharp eyes would see straight to the heart of the matter, Black King. I, that is to say, Queen Katarina fears that Civil War may spread across the Red Court in spite of all our efforts. Princess Jasmine has many allies, and we seek to balance the scales. Those who thrive on the trade down Tall Sea may need to pick a side –“
“And yet I cannot. As you have seen I have troubles of my own, and no help to spare.”
“Might I ask if you have help to spare for Princess Jasmine?”
King Ambrose narrowed his eyes. “Emissaries keep coming south with that question.”
“We are not the first?”
“A man in a mask came to visit me just one week ago and warned me not to meddle in Red Court affairs. One might almost say he made threats.” The hound lifted its head and gave a long growl, strings of drool slipping from each of it three mouths and splattering the ground. “Threats of me. Here, in my hall. I was sorely tempted to have him skinned in the public square but…it did not seem politic.” And he stilled his dog with the slightest hiss.
“Jasmine’s Envoy left with his skin, then?”
“It would not have fit me. He headed back north, bound for Roma. And though I much prefer your manners to his, I fear I can only give you the same promise.”
“Which was?”
“To help all my good friends about the Four Courts equally.”
“Meaning not at all.”
The Black King smiled, and it chilled Isabelle even more than his frown. “You are known as a deeply cunning man, Count Elijah. I am sure you need no help to sift out my meaning. You know where I sit. Between Badlands and the Snowy Mountains. Between the High Pope and the Jade Empress. At the crossroads of the world and with perils all about me.”
“We all have perils we must contend with.”
“But the Black Court must have friends in the east, and the west, and the north, and the south. The Black Throne thrives on balance. A Black King must keep a foot over every threshold.”
Isabelle saw Elijah twitch with frustration but he said nothing further. “Me and my fellow delegation are free to leave Napoli, oh Black King?”
“Force Katarina’s servants to stay against their will? That would not be politic either. One word of advice before you leave. Tell Katarina to stop this talk of war. Jasmine is the rightful heir to the Red Throne and she knows it. Return Memorium and smooth the way for peace.”
“Then I thank you humbly for your hospitality and for your advice, but we cannot turn back. We must go on with haste to Roma, and seek help there.”
Isabelle glanced at Amelia who shrugged airily. To go on to Roma, center the Church and the human’s holy land. She felt a flicker of excitement at that thought. And a flicker of fear.
King Ambrose merely snorted his disdain. “I wish you luck. But I fear you will get nothing from the Pope. He has grown ever more devout in his old age, and will have no dealings with those of our kind. The only thing he hungers after more than religious babble is spilled blood. That and sacred relics. But it would take the greatest ever unearthed as a gift to win his favor.”
“Oh, great Black King, wherever would we find such a thing?” Elijah bowed low, all innocence and humility. But Isabelle saw the cunning smile at the corner of his mouth.
Edited by Mors, 21 February 2015 - 12:16 AM.
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