Chapter 5

James sat at a table in the bar attempting very actively not to try and fall asleep. Bart was sitting right beside him in a very similar situation while Michael was off at the bar buying the next round of drinks and poorly attempting to talk to women. This would normally be the stage at which Bart and James would be laughing together at Michael as he tried to court the lady-folk but instead they falling asleep at the booth they were sitting at. By the time Michael resigned himself to an evening without women Bart and James where nearly asleep. Michael slammed three pints down onto the table in a last ditch effort to liven the mood a bit. “Pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pints!”

“Repeating the first sound of a word over and over does not make it exciting.” James said after a big gulp of his liquid dinner.

“I know, but I make it exciting when I do it.” Bart was sitting very sternly with his hands locked together in front of him. He slowly scanned the crowd in the pub; it was mostly old locals. The most threatening people he saw were two gentlemen on the edge of the bar having some kind of argument. They were both clothed in rough work gear and covered in various tattoos. They didn’t come across as menacing, just some working class men unwinding after a long day. James snapped his fingers in front of Bart’s face, who responding by drinking half of his pint without a breath.

“Not everyone is out to kill us Bart.” Bart simply resumed his concentrated position.

“Not everyone. Just most people.” He growled. James just rolled his eyes and turned to say something to Michael, who had excused himself from the table without either of the other two noticing.

“What? How?” Bart responded to his inquiry by quietly pointing to the two men at the end of the bar who were now having some kind of conversation with Michael. Michael was clearly trying to act too tough for his own good, but neither of the two men seemed to care or even notice.

“This may end poorly.” Murmured Bart, after a few moments Michael returned to the table with a big smile on his face. He was always very proud of himself when he accomplished something. It was good that he was, because somebody had to be.

“Drink up boys; we’re going to a different pub.”

“Walking is difficult.” James whined in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Is there a particular reason? Why don’t we ever stay at the same pub and just hang around until they kick us out?”

“Because this pub is incredibly bland and those guys over there told me about a bar not too far from here filled to the brim with gorgeous women waiting for us to arrive.” Michael always had a certain amount of finesse when he got excited about things. He must have been very excited this time because he was doing a substantial amount of arm waving for demonstrative purposes, as well as clearly exaggerating the information he had been given.

“This sounds like a fantasy.” James was hardly impressed. “I have a feeling this bar either doesn’t exist or is just filled with old cranky sailors who aren’t going to appreciate our company.”

“Do you really think two random strangers would steer me wrong?” James and Bart stared at him blankly.

It became apparent at this point that Bart and James were not going to be able to convince Michael not to go, and arguing with him when he was set on something was actually less productive than arguing with a wall. Michael had an incredible ability to debate his way into or out of anything. If he was assuredly wrong about something he would simply turn logic on its head in a manner enough to make a philosopher puke on the street. This was a constant problem for Michael’s parents and friends growing up. Eventually most people learned to just resign to it or ignore him. His father would lay down the “Do it or leave” argument, but his mother for whatever reason couldn’t let it go. Michael was just as bad in that he would continuously start these sorts of arguments realizing that the inevitable ending was his butt meeting his father’s belt. Still, that was just how stubborn Michael was. So the boys finished their drinks and wondered off further into the city.

After about twenty minutes of Michael claiming he knew exactly where he was going the boys grew tired of his antics and disappeared into a pub in an ally. They assumed Michael would follow them but this was not the case. Michael continued wondering the city looking for this mystery bar. Bart and James realized this a little too late but were sick enough of the antics that they didn’t care. They both grabbed a couple of pints and sat down. The pub they ended up in was clearly more oriented towards sailors. It was a great deal busier than the previous bar as well. Bart was pretty excited about the new atmosphere; he loved to listen to wild fish stories and especially culture stories from all of the places the shipmen had visited. As much as James was ambivalent about taking over his father’s trade, Bart was completely the opposite; he couldn’t wait to get on a boat. His biggest hurdle would be convincing his mother to allow it, of course he was going to be an adult soon, but Bart just wasn’t sure he was ready to remind her of that fact.

James came up behind Bart and patted him on the back. “I like this place. Maybe we’ll actually have a good time tonight.”

As usual, he spoke too soon.

A man named John Hedding stood with his arms crossed on the front deck of the bridge tower. He could see the delivery ship coming into the bay, riding on the cool evening wind. John’s hair was trimmed neat and swept to the side of his forehead. He had his military uniform cleaned and ironed to near perfection. All of his pins and medals from his time in various wars were hanging proudly on his breast pocket.  He had his boots freshly shined and even tied with the laces at the same lengths on either side. His facial hair was the only thing about him that wasn’t cleanly maintained. He had some stubble visible simply because it grew so quickly. He also reeked of tobacco due to his constant pipe smoking; he kept his pipe tucked in his other shirt pocket. He had several rings on his hand that he would toy with in an attempt to keep his fingers busy when he wasn’t smoking. The older rings had worn down quite a bit as a result of this.

John had retired from the King’s Army after fifteen years of touring in various small wars. He moved down into Vordenport to act as chief of the governors protective service, which was essentially a police force. John was dressed to the nines because of his excitement for the coming mission. Despite less time spent traveling away from his family; John missed the complications and extreme conditions he used to endure during times of war. He thrived on the rough travel and sleepless nights. Every time he heard soldiers complaining about the environment it was like a high for him. He liked to think of himself as a strong person, strong enough to handle situations that would make an ordinary man crumble.

More than anything, John was controlling and obsessive. He spent nearly every waking moment concentrating on his work and criticizing the efforts of his men. He felt the behaviors of his troops were a reflection of his success or failure. This led to a substantial amount of strict regulations emplaced by him. His troops were disciplined and very skilled as a result. This also applied to his own family, much to the dismay of his wife, who was extremely laid back in comparison. Every time he came home to his family with any news from the current struggles of the King’s Army his wife would eagerly use it as an opportunity to attempt to convince him to reenlist. She felt that both the family and John would benefit from him spending some additional time with the army. Despite his somewhat abusive behavior towards their two children she felt he was truly a good father, but too much time at home was straining his relationship with the family.

John’s second in command officer slowly approached him from behind and peered out towards the bay. There was a massive delivery ship coming in through the docks in the harbor heading towards Gastine Bridge. The boat was not built from a Mainland design; it was from the northeast territory of Sanzeterja where many different sorts of goods were traded back and forth with the Mainland. The journey was not extremely long or treacherous so often different expertly crafted tools and furniture were imported from the region. Today was a very unique shipment. Ordinarily no ship would be allowed to come through the bay all the way towards the city center. Gastine Bridge was built at the shallowest and least wide region of the bay. It allowed for foot traffic to easily navigate the docking areas but could also raise and lower. Ordinarily this function was only used to let newly built ships from the upper plant to travel out into the bay for maiden voyages, but today was not an ordinary day.

“Shall I call the order to raise the bridge?” John hesitated for a moment. He liked to act as if every suggestion made by a subordinate required some amount of thought before answering. He normally twisted his mouth or eyebrows to extenuate this, and he did today, mostly as a matter of habit knowing his officer could not see his facial expressions. A deep breathe usually sealed the deal. For John, today was the day that he couldn’t spend an incredible amount of time frustrating his officers.

“Call the order.” His subordinate immediately ran down the tower stairs to relay the order. At the bottom of the stairs of the tower another officer ducked out the door and raised a flaming torch through the air. Corresponding soldiers in the other three towers observed the motion of the torch and relayed the message to the bridge operators to raise the large wooden bridge. A series of soldiers began reeling back the giant spindles to raise the bridge. Ordinarily the bridge would be operated by city employees but due to the value of the incoming cargo the crew had been replaced by high-ranking men. Large cranking and creaking noises dominated the nearby streets. The bridge, for the first time all year, began to rise.  It was an engineering feat to bring the bridge to almost nearly vertical stature.

The shipment began slowly creeping forward from the entrance of the bay into the main center where the city culminated from. Crowds began forming in the street, much to the dismay of John, who was hoping for a quiet and quick entry. The ship was clearly not of Mainland origin and not only discomforted the city residents but brought about the attention of many immigrants from Shiden, outside the mainland.

James and Bart turned to a sudden source of noise outside the bar where they resided and watched as a crowd of immigrants quickly ran through the city bearing torches and arms. Something happening outside on the streets was obviously capturing the attention of the bar patrons as well as much of the city. The sailors placed their drinks on the bar to observe the sudden passage of mainland citizens from Sanzeterja who were converging around the closet bridge to the bay in Vordenport. The bar slowly emptied as the men filled the street to observe the spectacle. John watched from his balcony as the streets began to fill below. A sick feeling in his gut took hold. He turned to his officer who had returned from the lower bridge. John drew his sword quickly to convey the urgency of the situation. Realizing what was about to take place, the officer hurried back down the stairs without any hesitation to inform the troops of the current situation. John followed not far behind him.

More and more citizens left their homes and places of work to take to the streets. There was a great unrest among the people of Vordenport due to the potential of a planned attack by the differing clans of people that lived together in the culturally diverse city. Long term residents of Vordenport watched hesitantly as the ship slowly escaped the path of the openable bridge and into the deeper territories of the city. John reached the bottom of the tower and began ordering his men to disband the crowds in an attempt to subdue the situation. It was too little too late.

James and Bart stood far enough away from the crowds to avoid getting involved in the protests, but close enough to see the bulk of the ship other than the massed sails slowly waver past the tall, overbearing buildings of the city.  Soldiers began slowly pushing crowds away from the rivers and bridges. There was a severe sense of discomfort among them. Despite the attempts of the soldiers the local crowds and the crowds of previous Sanzeterjain citizens had naturally separated themselves from each other. John ran down to the nearest docking station with a stern warning to alert his men of the situation. He quickly boarded the ship without any need for identification due to the strictness of his demeanor and uniform. The captain of the ship stood near the bow awaiting the arrival of John. Upon eye contact both men confirmed with no words that a situation was quickly developing.

“I don’t care what takes place in the next hour. Move the weaponry to the governor’s castle in haste. I will alert you of any further orders from this moment. Any discussion of payment can proceed after the crowds disperse.” John was adamant enough in this command that the captain began instructing his crew without any question. Canons quickly began unloading from the ship. Every single member of the crew abandoned their traditional role and rushed to remove any and all cargo from the hull. They began rolling everything off of the ship in a frenzy. Even though they did not understand the gravity of the situation developing around the ship they knew that urgency was key.

Bart managed to find a sailor who he had been conversing with at the bar who was standing among them in the crowd of Vordenport native citizens. James couldn’t move from his spot and simply watched as both crews quickly converged to work together like clockwork in removing the canons. James had never seen a canon before in his life, but could recognize what he saw and judged based on the urgency of the movement that something very serious was afoot. As he began to realize what was taking place, Bart came back with confirmation. “It’s some kind of explosive weapon, they’re delivering them to the King’s Army!” he screamed into James’ ear. The noise of the crowd was beginning to escalate. James was not familiar with military equipment or tactics, but he was adept at reading people’s emotions. Unrest was growing in both sides of the crowd.

“We should go.” He stated calmly, attempting to deter Bart from getting involved. It may have saved them had this suggestion come a few minutes earlier. Instead, they both turned their heads to witness a single flaming arrows sail from an unclear position and land on the boat in a very anticlimactic thud. John turned from the boat and quickly gauged the positioning of the author of the arrow.

“Northeast tower!” he yelled for anyone within earshot to hear. His crew immediately responded and relayed the message to the ground troops below. Despite this early response there was very little that the communication could solve at that point. The first strike would ring through the night and bring chaos.

James watched as the crowd quickly transformed from quiet onlookers to a mob of angry activists before his own eyes. They had all watched the arrow fly from the tower onto the boat. What followed was an immediate volley of arrows onto the ship below. James figured there were at least twenty other archers stationed at various points throughout the city north of the river. He was pushed over by the ensuing mob and fell harshly to his knees on the street below. The noise that followed was that beyond what he had ever heard in his life before. Deep roars of angry men filled the street in one triumphal charge as every bystander instantly became a part of the attack against the resistance. As fast as John and the captain thought men could move a shipment off the boat, the effort suddenly doubled. Most of the crew had hidden themselves in time to avoid the sharpened sticks which befell them. As always, there were many whose reflexes failed them and they became victims to civil unrest, arrows piercing limbs and even a man’s side.

Still on all fours on the ground, James struggled to his feet with the unexpected help if Bart, who had maintained himself through the situation much better than James had. James carefully met eyes with Bart, who he was expecting to express some kind of fear in his face. Bart instead burned with some intensity previously unknown to James. He wasn’t sure whether or not Bart was planning to run or to hide until Bart finally uttered something very uncommon for such a mildly mannered person. “They’re on the western bridge. Let’s go.” Without hesitation, James managed to his feet and followed Bart deep into the crowd as they pursued the threat deep into the city. James had no idea what lay ahead of him, but couldn’t bear the thought of leaving his friend behind. So into the thick of it he marched with Bart at his side.