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Chapter 21 - A Parade of Stags
🕑 Added 2025-02-21 18:00:06 +0000 UTCThe air grew stale in the harbor. The wind dared not blow. Even the waves subsided, crashing on the rocks beyond the cove but not willing to rock the Harper ship. A dozen large ships and three dozen more little fishing vessels waited out in the open ocean, the Harper blockade refusing to let them in.
The sailors of Khaldeer had gotten used to the blockade. It felt as much a part of the cove as the rocks that jutted out into the sea. But this new Harper ship, twice as big, had the sailors grumbling and fleeing in fear. The ship bobbed in the middle of the cove, taking up the deepest waters and forcing the leaving ships to travel dangerously close to the rocks.
And then the triremes came in. Twenty men rowed each of the three ships, their drums pounding and shaking the hearts of the Khalyan sailors. But it was the Chefs they carried that made them scatter. Each trireme only carried one Chef, but that was all they needed to dominate the docks.
Nori watched from behind a barrel at the edge of an alley, ready to slip into the chaos of the city at a moment’s notice. The three Chefs, two Black Jackets and a Red, stepped onto the docks, the nearest Khalyan being thirty feet away from any of them. At a distance, Nori couldn’t make out the exact details of the emblem emblazoned with silk on their chests, but Nori knew what it was.
The silver antlers of a stag.
The Harper clan had grown wide in its prosperity, numbering nearly a hundred and with over half of them being Chefs. In that sprawling family tree, sects had formed. There were the traditionalists, those most loyal to the Urokan royal family. There were the much more dangerous revolutionaries, who met in secret to discuss taking the throne for themselves. There were the separatists and the nationalists, who argued with each other over whether Uroko should declare independence or claim sovereignty over all of United Ambrosia. There were the apologists, made up of one Nori Harper.
And then there were the Stags, the only ideological branch so defining and influential that it demanded a formal name. Comprised of some of the Harper’s best fighters—and therefore the world’s—the Stags took their inspiration from Shinsen, Ambrosia’s daughter that had traveled to Uroko, and her legendary stag.
A thousand years ago, Shinsen had traveled to Khala and fed the starving people her stag. Upon return to Uroko, the king divorced and exiled her, forsaking the twins in her belly. Without a surname, she chose Harper, and thus the clan was born.
The Stags wove antlers in their clothing not to celebrate Shinsen’s gift, but to claim it back for themselves. They believed the stag should have never been given, and that the Khalyans owed a debt that could never be paid.
Nori had never liked the Stags. They were comprised of the most dangerous type of person in the world—idle, skilled men with no purpose. They were coarse and edgy and elitist. But now, with her newfound perspective on the world, Nori truly detested the Stags. Their entire purpose was a perversion. A betrayal of Shinsen’s ideals. They forsook their ancestors not for their cruelty, but for the lone act of generosity.
“Clear out!” one of them yelled at a sailor. The sailor held a harpoon, but no one in the docks thought of it as a threat compared to the Chef that stomped along the docks.
“It—our ship is too big,” the sailor stammered as he backed away. “We need the deep water. We’ll run aground.”
“Then run aground,” the Stag growled. He flexed his hand, the skin beginning to shimmer and calcify.
“Okay, okay! We’re going!” the sailor rushed away. He didn’t need to see whatever magic the Stag was about to produce. They already knew it well. Seafood transformation was practically a prerequisite for becoming a Stag, and if one of them decided to use it, a common sailor had no hope in defending themselves.
The three Stags exerted their will over the docks until there was hardly a Khalyan standing on the wood. A crowd of sailors surrounded Nori, watching from afar, allowing her to stand up straight instead of bending down behind a barrel.
But even after the docked ships had managed to drift just around the rocks and out of the cove, the Harper ship made no move. No one raised a sail. No one paddled an oar. No one left the ship. It just sat there, bobbing atop the gentle waves.
“What’re they waiting for?” an old woman asked near Nori. While the sailors and dockworkers had retreated, some of the residents of the harbor had come out to see what the commotion was about.
“They’re holding up all the ships,” someone else said.
“We got fish out there going bad in the sun.”
“Yeah, this is screwing up our whole day.”
Nori chewed on her lower lip. “The disruption is the point,” she muttered under her breath.
Nearly an hour passed, the Stags just standing there like statues. For every person in the crowd that left, two more came from deeper in the city as word spread. By the time one of the triremes rowed back to the main ship, a solid line of spectators separated the docks from the rest of the city.
A group of people boarded the trireme. Nori tried to pick out any familiar faces in the crowd, sighing when she finally recognized one. He wore a navy blue uniform—not a Chef’s jacket—and picked up the back of his forest green cloak as he stepped onto the docks. Only one of his entourage dared to stand near him, the rest giving him a wide berth.
Someone in the crowd said a prayer for King Tritsun.
Nori looked around. Everyone regarded this man in fear. They saw a fearsome general. But when Nori looked at him, she just saw her older brother, Dashi.
“Why’d they bring him?” someone whined.
“It’s going to be a hungry winter,” someone else commented.
A group of Khalyan soldiers marched down the road, their feet landing in a rhythmic chut-chut-chut-chut. They held spears with the firm grips of those ready to use them, but they never would. To use them here would mean the end of Khala by year’s end.
A man in a plain brown gambeson stepped out of the crowd of soldiers, offering a curt nod to Dashi, who acknowledged it by lifting his chin away. It was a rare sight to see such an important meeting in which neither party was a Chef.
The crowd quieted down so they could hear.
“The king would like to see you immediately,” the delegate announced.
Dashi did not speak loudly enough for the crowd to hear, but they knew what he said. He turned to speak to the man beside him, dismissing the delegate with a wave. There was an awkward standoff, but after a few seconds, the delegate returned to his guards and they marched away without the Urokans in tow.
Dashi scanned the crowd. Nori was one in a hundred, but she still ducked down when her brother’s gaze passed. Something about the crowd amused him, making him laugh to himself.
And then they moved. The three Stags led the way, even the most reckless of Khalyan orphans moving out of the way well before they needed to. A group of men, some Chefs, but all clearly noble, followed, twenty guards taking up the rear.
Nori weaved through the crowd to follow them. She wasn’t sure why she was doing it, but that didn’t stop her from doing it. Maybe she needed to see what she despised. She always went on about the mistreatment from her family, but she never had seen it firsthand. Now she had the chance. She moved through the alleys, never stepping into the open street.
At one point, she expected them to go left toward the Urokan embassy, but instead, they went right toward the Monastery. And then a horrible thought struck her. What if they weren’t there to negotiate with the king?
What if they had come for her?
Why else would her brother have come? He was the bright, young military prodigy of Uroko, not a negotiator. He would serve little function sitting at the table discussing the intricacies of imports and exports and regulations, but he would serve well to march to the Monastery and demand that they hand over the lost Harper.
She pulled back a little, waiting until the entourage was almost out of sight before she moved from one alley to the next. But she was still close enough to hear the way the Stags yelled at the common folk, never hesitating to threaten them.
Nori had always thought this day might come. She was under no illusion about the extent of her escape. About how a single whim of her father would result in her being dragged back kicking and screaming.
She’d make them scream too. She rubbed her fingertips together, a bead of lemon juice dripping to the floor with a sizzle. A single Stag could beat her without breaking a sweat. And there were three of them. But they wouldn’t be able to kill her. Her father wouldn’t allow it. She could use that to her advantage.
Picea had shown her how. Nori’s acid could burn the skin, but it wasn’t potent enough to burn all the way through muscle. Until she improved her conjuration, she’d have to be smart about how she applied it. She’d go for their joints. Their eyes.
If they could find her. She still had time to run. To hide. She would follow them to the Monastery just to be sure of their intentions, and then make her escape. She knew the harbor well. She’d hide out and catch a ride out of Khaldeer.
But then what? Would they try to take her again in Ambrosia City? And besides, Archie needed her here. He had an important mission. She couldn’t just turn tail and run.
They got closer and closer to the Monastery. Nori’s heart raced. She wondered if anyone would refuse the Stags entry. Picea could take them, right?
But then they turned again, marching away from the Monastery. Nori continued to follow them as they went in a large circle around the most important buildings of Khaldeer, making their presence known. They looped around the palace, passed the Monastery again, and made their way to the Urokan embassy.
Nori sighed deeply in relief.
It was all political posturing. It was like she had said. The disruption was the point. They were here to strike a new trade deal. Holding up the port and marching through the city was just the first part of the negotiations. They weren’t here for her.
But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t take her if given the chance. She couldn’t risk it. She needed to lay low.
Luckily, she knew several places to do just that.
“Nori, Nori, Nori!” the children chanted as she entered the orphanage.
“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” she said as she shed the clinging children from her legs.
“Where’s the goosenecks?”
Nori tilted her head back in disappointment. “I left them at the docks.”
“I heard there was Stags.”
“There were…” Nori looked around at the dirty, scrawny children. Even just invoking the name of the Stags had painted their faces with fear. “What should you do if you see a Stag?”
“Run away,” three kids said at once.
“That’s right.”
A little girl with honey brown hair pulled on Nori’s sleeve. The girl reminded Nori of Chandler. “I’ll go with you to get the goosenecks,” she said.
“No, no, I’ll go alone,” Nori said. She looked up as one of the older women that ran the orphanage approached. “As a matter of fact, when I get back—if it’s alright with Miss Clove—I was thinking about staying here for a few days.”
Clove frowned, not with disapproval but with worry. She was the only one at the orphanage who knew Nori’s last name. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Nori lied for the benefit of the children. “Just need a change of scenery. Couple weeks max.”
“Yay!” the kids cheered.
“Well, we have a bed for you, and I know you’ll work for it,” Clove said.
“Of course. Um, that being said, could I borrow a paper and quill? I need to write a quick letter.”
“Go ahead.”
With half a dozen children looking over her shoulder, Nori scrawled a quick note on a thin slice of paper, rolled it up, and handed it to the girl that reminded her of Chandler.
“Okay, since you wanted to help with the goosenecks, you can do this for me instead. Take this to the Monastery. Do you know Head Chef Picea?”
“Everyone knows the Kyrjha!”
“Ok, great. Get this to her. Tell her it’s for Archie. Can you do that?”
“Yep!”
“Okay, great.”
“But you have to make me dinner.”
“Of course,” Nori laughed.
“Me too, me too!” the kids clamored.
“Go now,” Nori told the girl. She sat back and let the children climb all over her. As far as hiding spots went, this one wouldn’t be so bad.
Archie. Harpers are here. Going to lay low for a while. When it’s time to go north, find me at the orphanage between the dyer and the customs house. Don’t visit.
-N
