MAN OF WAR

6

Titus entered the banquet hall dressed in his finest formal wear of darkly tanned britches and polished black boots, a dark forest green tunic with gold trim and a thick black leather belt which held his sword. He had bathed and shaved before coming this evening. He wished to look his very best when he addressed the Emperor. The hall was filled with the nobility and high-ranking officers of his Majesty’s Naval and Military forces. With the war raging on so many years, fighting men had become revered members of society’s hierarchy.

            The room was large, with high ceilings and sparkling chandeliers, marble flooring, and towering golden archways held up by polished white pillars baring lit torches. In the center of the monstrous ballroom sat a long banquet table with white linen tablecloths and red velvet chairs. The table was adorned with red and white roses, fine silver place settings, crystal goblets and an abundance of rich food and honeyed wines. Against the north wall were two winding gilded stairways that wrapped around the head table, leading up to the second story and the tall doors that marked the entrance to the palace’s private chambers.

            Titus circumnavigated the room, observing the other guests. Many of the faces were familiar—people who lived at court year-round and others that came up for the summer season. There were many new young faces. New young girls straight from the schoolroom for their first year at court to seek a husband. There were faces missing as well, he noted. All of which were military or naval, which could easily be explained by them being away on assignment. There were many fellow officers he had not seen in some time in attendance. Logan being one of them.

            Titus had met Logan when he and his mother had come to live at court with his step-father. They had become fast friends, and both had a mutual dream of fighting for the Empire. After Titus had run off to join the navy, Logan had stayed behind and joined up under the command of Titus’ step-father in the infantry. Coming up in the ranks quickly and making Lieutenant by the age of twenty, Captain two years later, and Major not four months ago.

            Titus was glad to see his old friend, but unfortunately, Logan’s presence at court also meant that Titus’ no-good step-father was also present. He had not seen the General or his mother as of yet, but he was sure he would encounter them before the evening was through. Titus watched the lords and ladies mingling and enjoying their droll, dry wit. The young marriage-minded chits were working the room for dance partners and potential husbands. Their mothers working their deceitful wiles to lay traps for dim-witted men foolish enough to get caught by pretty faces and fluttered lashes. Titus was far too cunning to get trapped by a scheming mama or plotting beauty. He would not be snared in the parson’s noose.

            He needed no wife, nor did he want one. In his life, women were useful for but one thing, and when he wanted that, it was more than easy to come by. Well, it had been until Jade, she was different. He had never met someone he both desired and loathed so much. She was so spirited, so defiant, so outspoken and fierce. Yet there was still such an elegance to her, a gentle beauty, a soft, fragile allure about her that made a man crave to touch her and wish to protect her. He was at war with himself over the damn woman. He should be rid of her, but yet he craved her for himself. He wished to protect Jade from the life he knew awaited her. Yet he knew his duty, and he had never strayed from it.

He could not allow his desires or his feelings to get in the way. Still, as he stood off to the side of the festivities, Titus could not stop his mind from wandering back to what it was like to have Jade bucking beneath him, or the feel of her nails digging into his back. The intoxicating sound she made when he pressed deeper into her. The way her bright amber eyes seemed to blaze like fire when she was in the throes of passion. The memory stirred his blood again, and he felt an overwhelming need to have Jade once more.

            Trumpets blew, bringing Titus’ thoughts back to the banquet. The sound announced the royal family’s arrival. Every guest turned to face the north wall where the two thrones sat flanked by two high backed well-padded chairs. The first to be announced was Princess Samantha. She was the younger of his Majesty’s two daughters. She was beautiful with her golden hair and sleek figure, but she had a nasty, selfish personality.

            She entered from the grand staircase that winded down from the top of the north wall and around the head table. She wore a brilliant blue ball gown, and her hair was pulled up and pinned into curls atop her head. She reached the bottom of the stairs and stood in front of one of the high-backed chairs.     

            Next to be announced was the Crowned Princess Gaia. She was to be wed in one week’s time to secure a future ruler for the Empire. It was well known her ageing father was ill and dying. In his lifetime, he had sired no male heir to take his throne. Near the end of his life, he had been forced to find a worthy foreign prince to leave his empire. Gaia was very beautiful and kind; the people adored her.

            She was sweet and generous. As a child, Gaia had even spent time playing in the courtyard with Titus and Logan from time to time. Pretending to be a knight, much to her mother’s dismay. Her mother would consistently tell her it was not ladylike to behave as she did and that a lady of her stature did not consort with such unruly boys, but that rarely prevented Gaia from sneaking them out to play. But time passes and people grow up, and the time came to put away childish things. She became the princess she was expected to be, and he the man of war he was today.

            Gaia descended the stairs regally in a lovely yellow ball gown. Her hair hung in curls laced with pearls and small white flowers. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she gracefully walked to the other high-backed chair and waited as her parents were announced to the court.

            Trumpets blew once more, and the Emperor and his Empress appeared at the top of the stairs. The Emperor was an older man in his late fifties while his bride had lived but only some thirty-odd years. The Emperor was draped in black and violet finery, with a heavy cape draped over his shoulders. His crown weighed heavily on his white-haired head. His face was thin, and it had become easy to see the ravages of his illness.

            The Empress, like her daughters, was lovely with her golden hair and her red velvet ball gown. Her crown sat delicately atop her head. Her hand was resting on her husband’s forearm. They came down the grand staircase to their thrones. The entire hall bowed to the royal family as they took their seats. The Emperor then signalled for the meal to be served. The guest took their seats as the slaves brought about the pitchers of wine and water.

            They ate and drank while the minstrels played. Titus shared stories of his travels with some of the other soldiers that were seated with him. He was enjoying his meal very much when he saw his mother’s face appear among the faces of the men he was speaking with. She looked so old, her face lined from the stresses her husband inflicted upon her. Even as she smiled, he could see the hidden despair behind her eyes. She held out her arms to her son, and Titus hugged his mother tightly. “My boy, when were you going to inform us you were home?” Emily scolded.

            “I would have gotten around to it,” he said with a smile. “Are you doing well?” He asked, stepping back to inspect her. She wore a lightly tanned gown that seemed fairly loose on her. She had lost quite some weight since he had last seen her. She had once been so beautiful with her youth and dark looks, but her husband’s cruelty had aged her horribly.

            “Well enough,” Emily said, offering him her most reassuring smile. “Tell me, how was your last voyage?”

            “Yes, boy, have you done anything of use while the real men have been tracking down Sakwa and his band?” A condescending voice snarled from behind him. Titus felt his skin crawl at the very sound of the familiar voice. It was the voice that had been the source of so much misery in his youth. Titus turned to face his step-father. A tall cruel man in his forties who resented the fact that after thirteen years, he was still only a General and that the Emperor had not seen fit to make him a Field Marshal. His dark hair was cropped short, and so was his beard. He was a narrow build even though he was in the field. He was known for sending his men into the battle while staying back a safe distance himself. An act of a cowered in Titus’ eyes. Able to push helpless women around but holding back from battle.

            Titus straightened his back and stared his step-father down. “As a matter of fact, I have General Carter. I have tracked down numerous traitors to the crown and intercepted rebel spies. I have even brought back prisoners of war to add to his Majesty’s service. Tell me, have you captured Sakwa yet?” He asked with mockery. “Are you any closer?” General Carter’s eyes flashed with annoyance, but before he could say a word, the Emperor called for a report from his officers. “Excuse me; I must find my first mate,” he said, walking away. Titus needed to ready his prisoners for when he was called upon.

            Titus kissed his dear mother goodbye and went in search of Gulliver, finding his shipmate consorting with a service wench down one of the corridors that led to the kitchens in the lower levels. He interrupted and gave orders for Gulliver to fetch the prisoners and bring them forth for presentation. He then left his man where he was trusting him to see to his task promptly. Titus then returned to the main hall to witness the spectacle.

            One Field Marshal and two Generals, including Carter, presented their reports about battles in the field. About driving back the rebel forces and the loss of some strategic strongholds, as well as the total number of fighting men lost in battle. They were, as always, no closer to locating or capturing the rebel leader Sakwa, which clearly frustrated and infuriated the Emperor. The old man was tired of hearing of failure. Sick to death of years of reports of the rebel leader slipping through the fingers of his best officers.

            The Emperor then called upon his naval force. There were two Admirals, a Commodore, and another Captain beside himself in attendance that evening. After the two Admirals, Titus stepped forward to be heard. “Captain Titus of the warship Raven,” the adviser announced him.

            Titus stepped in front of the Emperor and bowed respectfully. “Captain, I see you have returned from your mission. Have you been successful?” The Emperor asked with some annoyance from all the less than positive news he had received thus far.

            “Yes, Your Majesty. Each traitor to your crown has been located and dispatched. Their ships sunk, and their cargo returned to you as spoils of war, as were any survivors of their crews. My crew has even intercepted two rebel spies,” he announced with unwavering confidence.

            The Emperor smiled and banged his fist on the arm of his chair happily. “By God, finally, an officer that produces results and not excuses,” he grinned. “And how many fighting men have you lost that you wish me to replace?”

            “Not a soul, Your Majesty. My men are alive and well and, at this time, enjoying well-earned shore leave. My crew is competent and skilled. They are fine sailors and accomplished fighters,” Titus said proudly, holding his head up high.

            “They must be, and they sail under a great Captain,” the Emperor added.

            It was high praise indeed. Praise he knew, both pleased his mother and irritated his step-father as they watched from the sidelines. “Your Majesty is too kind. I am just a humble sailor in your service. I have brought Your Majesty a unique and rare acquisition I acquired while during our last battle,” he said, waving to his first mate to bring out the prisoners. Gulliver and two others dragged both Jade and her man Miya before the Emperor and forced them to their knees. Their hands were bound by rope, but they had both been washed and redressed to be presentable in court.

            “Prisoners?” The Emperor asked quizzically.

            Gulliver took both by the hair and forced their heads up so the whole court could have a good view of the prisoners and those remarkable amber eyes. “I present Your Majesty with shifters,” Titus said, drawing a collected gasp from the court. Whispers filled the room.

The Emperor rose from his throne and came around the long table. He stepped down from his pedestal and approached the prisoners with astonishment. He inspected them each, taking their chins in his hand and looking them over like he would a fine steed. “This is incredible, Captain. How did you capture these creatures? All the stories say they are so very dangerous, able to change into any beast at will.”       

            Titus held out his hand to Gulliver, who reached into his tunic and removed both crystals from around his neck. He thought it best to entrust his first mate to guard the crystals since he had been sharing his stateroom with Jade. It was a sure way to keep them away from her and still be certain they would be secure. Jade looked at Gulliver, and Titus saw how her eyes followed her crystal from Gulliver’s hands to his own.

            Titus held up the crystals. “I have discovered the source of their powers. It is derived from these crystals. Each crystal appears to be specific to one shifter or another and is not transferable. As long as we hold these, they are as harmless and as mortal as you or I,” he explained, handing the crystals over to the Emperor.

            The Emperor inspected the crystals with a huge smile and waved his finger at Titus, pleased with the unique presentation. “This pleases me greatly. You have far outdone yourself,” The Emperor said, walking back to his throne. “You have far outdone any officer here this evening,” he said loudly as he took his seat once more. “You, my boy, have earned yourself a grand reward,” he stated. “Let it be known that from this day forth, Captain Titus will be known as Commodore Titus of the warship Phoenix,” he announced to the whole court.

            Titus smiled. A promotion and a new ship, a grand reward indeed. The Phoenix was a magnificent Galleon coveted by many Captains, but the truth was Titus was quite happy with his ship. He would not trade the Raven for any ship. Titus bowed to show his appreciation for the gift the Emperor had bestowed upon him. “You are far too generous, Your Majesty. I humbly accept the promotion, but I respectfully decline the ship. I am extremely satisfied with the Raven, and it is where I feel I can serve the Empire the best,” he said modestly.

            “If I am not mistaken, is the Raven, not a Carrack?”

            “Yes, it is,” Titus answered.

            “The Phoenix is a Galleon, a far grander ship,” the Emperor pointed out. “Far more luxurious.”

            “My men and I are simple. We do not require luxury, just open water and a good fight from time to time. My ship is fast, and it handles better than any Galleon on the water. If it is, all the same, I would prefer to keep it.”

            The Emperor nodded. “Very well, you may keep your ship, but there must be something you desire that I may bestow upon you as your reward?” He asked. Something he desired? Titus’ gaze drifted to Jade, whose own attention was fixated on her crystal in the Emperor’s hand. He did desire one thing, but did he dare to ask for it? Was he bold enough? “Well, my boy, what is it that you want?” The Emperor asked.

            Titus returned his attention to the Emperor, his pulse speeding up from his nerves. He could not believe he was about to say what he was thinking. “I would like the shifter girl, Your Majesty,” he said, trying to sound calm and confident.

            More whispers filled the room, no doubt everyone astonished that he nerve to ask the Emperor for half of the spoils he had just presented him. The unmitigated gall. The Emperor laughed at first and then realized Titus was serious. “This woman is beautiful and unique,” he pointed out; it was not like Titus was just asking for any old slave girl; this one was prime stock. “She is of considerable value.”

            “Yes, she is Your Majesty,” Titus agreed, “but so is the Phoenix. I believe the tradeoff to be of fair and equal value. The ship for the girl,” he argued.

            The Emperor stared at Titus thoughtfully, and the hall fell quiet as all waited to hear what he would say. Finally, after a long silence, the Emperor smiled once more. “I agree. You may have the girl,” he said, granting Titus his request.

            “No!” Miya shouted, struggling against the men that held him as Gulliver pulled Jade to her feet.

            “Silence!” The Emperor yelled at him, but Miya would have none of it. He slammed his elbow hard into the gut of the man behind him and rose to his feet, doing the same to the other. He then rushed the head table and jumped on top, kicking the food to the floor. Women screamed, and men scattered. The officers in attendance drew their weapons and charged. The women of the royal family leapt from their seats and tried to run, but Miya had hopped down on the other side, his arms coming down around Gaia, trapping her against himself as a shield. His bounds around her throat, threatening to choke the very life from her, immediately bringing all defences to a halt.

            Gulliver still held Jade, and Titus used this chaos as a chance to disappear in the crowd and find his way through the back corridors. Someone needed to get the drop on him before he managed to negotiate his crystal back. He remembered as kids there had been another way up to the private chambers and back to the grand staircase the family had made their entrance on. He could come back down the staircase above Miya and have the high ground. He would come up behind him unseen.

            Titus found his way just fine; he remembered the way as if he had been there just the other day and not years prior. He reached the top of the grand staircase and looked over the rail. As predicted, Miya had his back to the staircase, and his eyes focused on the hall before him. He held Gaia tight and had the royal family and the other soldiers at bay. “Release her,” Miya demanded, nodding to Jade. “And return our crystals at once.”

            “What do you think you are doing? You are outnumbered,” the Emperor snarled.

            “Once I have my crystal, it will not matter.”

            Titus came down the stairs quickly, drawing his sword. He came up behind Miya and held the sword firmly against his throat from behind. Titus could feel his foe tense as Miya realized his mistake. “I suggest you release the Princess before I slit your throat,” Titus threatened. Miya knew he was outdone and released Gaia. She ran to her mother’s arms, and the guards took him into custody.

            “Take him to the dungeon; I shall deal with him at a later date,” the Emperor ordered. He then turned to Titus. “You, young man, have saved the day and the future of this Empire. My daughter’s life is invaluable. The Empire owes you a great debt of gratitude.”

            Titus bowed. “It was nothing any other soldier here would not have done.”

            “Perhaps,” the Empress spoke, looking around at all the others who had not been so quick thinking, “but not one of them was clever enough to find a swift way to bring a peaceful end to the matter.”

            “My wife is correct,” the Emperor said, placing his hand on Titus' shoulder. “That cool calm while under fire is exactly why you are in command… Admiral Titus.”

            Titus was beaming with pride and accomplishment. Two promotions in one night it was unheard of. Titus looked out over the hall and spotted his step-father, who was positively irate and green with envy. To have the son he did not want, match his rank at half his age, infuriated him. It was a satisfying feeling for Titus; he was sure his real father would have been proud of him. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” Titus bowed, watching as the guards escorted Miya out of the hall with great difficulty, and Gulliver pulled Jade out the other way. He felt a strange stab of remorse for splitting them up, but he had just spared Jade from a far worse fate even if she did not realize it.