Steph Swainston - No Present Like Time

She looked at me closely. “If you go to land, promise not to breathe a word about what happened on Tris. Aye, god knows I can’t stop you, but I’m trying to contain this discovery and you can see how important it is not to blab.”

“I’ll just bring you the news, I promise.”

“Then off you go. And buy me a couple of bars of chocolate, as well.”

Ilanded on the dark strand, and jogged up the beach from the hard wet sand to the dry sand, then climbed some steps to the promenade. I looked back and laughed to see my footprints appear from nowhere at the point where I touched down. The days were already getting shorter; I somehow felt cheated. It was ten P.M. and the Artists’ Quarter, that reputedly never sleeps, was just beginning to wake up. One seafront kiosk was open. A gray, hircine old man chortled when he saw me. I asked why, and he pointed to the headlines.

I said, “Oh, fuck,” and bought a copy of every newspaper he had. I jammed them into my satchel. I gave the man a handful of pound coins and for my fifty-pence change he used a pair of clippers to cut the last one along the line stamped on it. He returned half the coin.

As instructed, I also picked up some chocolate but I had eaten most of it by the time I reached the Petrel. I called Mist, Lightning and Serein to Mist’s office and spread the newspapers on her table:

REBELLION POISED TO STRIKE THE CASTLE

Troops raised by Gio Ami are proceeding toward the Castle itself. Lady Governor Eske has, of her own accord, given over the first four divisions of General infantry and more than thirty Select Fyrd to his cause.

Gio Ami has also commandeered Insect-wall-breaking machines from Eske. They include two battering rams and seven catapults, probably midsized trebuchets although it is difficult to specify the exact type. At the time of going to press, the engines are en route along the Eske Road.

Gio Ami’s volunteer force and noncombatant supporters are extremely varied in background and opinion but are strongly united by their discontent at the Castle’s role in the slow recovery of the Empire from Insect damage. Gio Ami will address them in his second meeting, to be held at midnight on Thursday at the Ghallain Fencing Academy in Eske.

In response, the Castle has received command of four thousand General, one thousand Select Fyrd from Fescue and Shivel, placed under the control of Tornado and Hayl. The internal guard of the Castle, the Imperial Select, are on alert.

Sporadic clashes occurred today on the Dogvane Road from Ghallain between demobilized soldiers loyal to the Castle and rebels attempting to join Gio.

Kestrel Altergate

7/10/20

“How can Gio dare?” Wrenn said. “This is all on its head! We’re their guardians!”

“Many things are happening recently that have never occurred before,” Lightning said quietly, as if adrift.

“There’s an embargo on ships,” I read.

Mist pressed her hand on her belly, growled, “What kind of stupidity? Where does it say that?”

“Look, here. It says Gio’s men have occupied Awndyn and nothing can enter or leave the harbor, including your caravels.”

“Oh, for god’s sake. If I’d been here things would never have gone this far.”

I translated the Plainslands article aloud to make it easier for Lightning, and then I picked up the broadsheet he had been reading. He pointed out an editorial at the bottom of the page. “The Grand Tour just got longer,” he said.

RACE IS ON TO THE ISLAND OF DELIGHT

As Gio Ami’s uprising confounds the Plainslands, news spreads about the Island of Tris. It has caused a stir in Lakeland Awia. Our correspondent at the court writes that Queen Eleonora Tanager yesterday summoned to Rachiswater Palace one of the mariners of the 2019 expedition. The Court was entertained to hear, at first hand, the bizarre travelers’ tales currently filling the penny dreadfuls.

The Wrought Standard remains skeptical of the details, yet accepts that an island has been discovered since the flagship Stormy Petrel departed on another journey not one month after returning from the first. Mist’s statement that she returned empty-handed is now regarded as a half-truth at best. The Castle must have planned her venture because Stormy Petrel was careened and resupplied within a month; the Castle is invited to reply to allegations that it has been economical with the truth.

No place is perfect, but Tris comes close. The islanders are both winged and wingless people. The climate is good, and the soil on the slopes of the central mountain is as fertile as Plow’s black earth wheat fields. The sailor said their food was succulent fruit he had never seen before, and fish with sweet, rich flesh. The culture seems sophisticated, but sailors’ tales are not wholly to be trusted. They also tell of having seen men with paddles for hands and mountains that emit smoke like chimneys.

The island is mostly in a wild and natural state. There are no settlements in the interior; the natives travel around their rocky coast by canoe.

Queen Eleonora has expressed interest in mounting her own expedition, as has Lord Governor Brandoch. Tris offers opportunities to trade, and a place of settlement that can be offered to our displaced countrymen sadly suffering the lot of refugees. The race is on to construct or engage craft worthy of making this long sea voyage.

I was interrupted by a cry from Wrenn, who had turned straight to the sports pages. He pointed out a paragraph:

Gio Ami’s admirable life’s work was shattered in one flukish move by Wrenn, all reporters present at that immortal duel agreed. Wrenn proved that there are no universal laws in the Art; now, characteristically, the master of the Ghallain School seems determined to take unpredictability to extremes. His rebellion could not be foreseen by those of us who knew his cool fencing style. His aggression in the game used to be well controlled, he always kept some tricks back. Now he gains followers like swarms of Insects, determined to deal the Circle a mortal blow.

As Gio Ami told us, “Serein Wrenn is away, maybe lost at sea. If Eszai can’t give one hundred percent for the Empire, they should not be Eszai at all.”

D. Tir, Editor, Secret Cut Fencing Times

“So,” said Mist. “Gio Ami doesn’t know when to leave.” We were all silent, thinking of the man’s gall.

Lightning said, “There must be some mistake. It’s unthinkable! What does he imagine he can achieve?”

Wrenn tore the paper up and cast the shreds on the floor. “I’ll meet him for you.” He glared around at us. “I’ll take him back to the amphitheater and run him through!”

“It’s his followers I worry about,” said Lightning.

“They won’t stay with him,” I conjectured.

Mist slammed her hand on the table. “Gentlemen, a council to decide our course because we don’t know what we’ll find.”

“We should hasten to the Castle as quickly as possible,” Lightning said simply.

“Aye, but I won’t put in to Awndyn and risk a clash with any of Gio’s followers.”

Lightning said, “I will answer for Swallow Awndyn.”

“No, no, don’t be so unwise. We can’t trust any Zascai. Especially the allegiance of Swallow, whom San won’t allow into the Circle. I will not chance the safety of my ships. I’ll hide Stormy Petrel and leave an armed guard on her. You know in the past the most precarious times for the Castle are those when we’ve managed to beat back the Insects.”

Lightning nodded and said, “Well, Serein wanted a chance to prove himself.”

The next day the mainland was nearer. At first it was a pale gray silhouette, and at ten kilometers out I saw the exact instant when it became green. Colors on the coastline differentiated as we sailed nearer. The water had a blindingly bright mirror glare, as moving ripples reflected the sun. It was so calm it looked solid, almost as if I could walk on it.