171 Exiles

Through the morning mist, a single ship sailed across the calm waves that were so typical of the Narrow Sea. Though a ship it was, and on the sea it sailed, it was in no state to be called seaworthy. Decrepit, infested with fungus above and barnacles below water, old Namu's barge had seen better days. Way back when, many decades ago, the ship had been brand new, handed over to the then-young Namu to fulfill his duties. And dutifully he fulfilled them today as well, as always. Yet this time, something was different from before. For the first time in years, he had brought a visitor to the lonely island.

When the ship ran aground the sands of the shallow beach, the prince's men already stood ready to take his wares, as usual. Though not only supplies from the mainland touched the shores of the lonely island. No, old Namu's guest did as well. With a short nod at the ferryman, the stranger jumped down the barge and into the ankle-deep water. Of course, the locals were unhappy to see the stranger wade towards them and invade their lands.

"Halt! Even as the delivery boy, no one is allowed on this island, on the emperor's orders! Yet a stranger dare land as If he owned the lands of Imperial Prince Eclestius? You dare defy the emperor?"

"The emperor is dead," the stranger said and showed a shiny silver trinket from within his long sleeve. As they saw the symbol, the servants halted in their steps. Only a woman from the back stepped ahead to remain an obstacle.

"Even so, no stranger is allowed to come here, no matter what banner they bear." Tall for a woman, she appeared quite young, no older than twenty-five. Although she was pregnant, maybe in her last trimester, her stance was as fierce as her eyes, ready to fight off the invader.

"Then what about him?" With a casual flick of his hand, the stranger pointed at old Namu. While the robed man had been stuck here, the old ferrier had left his ship to help unload the cargo, while he chatted with the locals.

"Old Urmo is no stranger. He is a dear friend. For as long as we can remember, he brings us not only food and drink and clothing and firewood, but also precious tales from lands far away, once every twenty days. Should we not extend a hand of hospitality to an old friend?"

"Well, I'm no stranger either, not really. We're family after all." Corco lifted the hood of his robe to reveal his face. "You must be my cousin, huh? Sorry, but I don't know your name, I'm not well-informed about the situation on the lost islands. Still, I really need to meet with uncle Eclestius. Tell him King Corco has come to make an offer. I'm sure he can make an exception and meet me this once."

Once he mentioned his name, his cousin looked none the happier, but still sent out a servant. They did not talk while they waited, Corco covered in suspicious stares.

A while later the servant returned to bring the local ruler's answer. Guided by the pregnant lady of the house, Corco was led through the yards. Fancy, but a bit out of fashion, they overlooked the entire lordship of Prince Eclestius. There was great beauty in the craggy cliffs and reefs in the distance, as there was within the sway of the long grass around the estate. Though the lordship was beautiful, it was a tiny, empty realm, bereft of people, save for the ones in this very mansion. Though the king tried to make conversation, he could feel that the young lady had nothing but suspicion to offer, so he let her be until they reached the goal of their journey.

Soon the lady had left Corco seated across from a man who looked no older than himself, with short hair and a long beard. Though he was his family, he looked more like Amautu than himself.

"Hello, uncle Eclestius," the nephew said with a smile and a tiny bow.

"This lord greets King Corcopaca Titu Pluritac and welcomes him into his home." Though the speech was formal and distant, Corco didn't care much. He hadn't come here to reconnect. Thus he sat down across from the prince without another word of greeting.

"You're wearing your hair short," Corco noted instead.

"This prince has never been a warrior, so he will not wear their sigils. There are no axes on the lost islands either. Not even for cutting wood." Of course Corco had known about the axes. A complete absence of any weapons was one of many paranoid rules the emperors of Medala had instated over the years to keep their kin from taking revenge.

"I don't think there's need to be so formal, is there? We're family, after all." Corco spread his arms in an open gesture, but the prince remained unmoved, glued to his seat.

"Yet we have never met before today."

"Of course we haven't. By the time I was born, you had already been exiled, and by the time I was old enough to visit, I had been exiled too."

"Ah, what a cruel fate it is, this exile." For the first time, Prince Eclestius looked out of the window with a wistful gaze, something more than hostility and suspicion.

"You've still got it better than the princes before you. Much better, I'd say." In fact, Corco's father had been quite lenient with his brothers. There were only three possible fates for princes of Medala who didn't become emperors. First, for the ones who had openly fought for the position of emperor themselves or had an especially vengeful brother, they would be taken out. Though this was rarely done. Much more common was a fate of exile on one of the many small islands along the coast of Medala. Although there was always a chance the brothers would return with the help of some overambitious lords, the exiled had little incentive to rebel.

Even as almost landless princes, they retained their prince status, equivalent to a lord, and were still allowed to train in the ancient family techniques. By the time they turned seventy, like all lords, their exile would be lifted and they would be inducted into the Ancestral Hall, to become the power behind the throne. Not only would this guarantee their loyalty when they were still young enough to rule themselves, they would also bolster the numbers of the Pluritac family within the Hall to guarantee their influence.

Of course, any emperor also had the option to employ the other princes as generals or advisors, though that was rarely done.

"Yet he took none of us under his wing when he ascended," Eclestius said.

"When my father ascended, you were ten, far too young to take up any sort of function within the court. Those brothers of yours were old enough, but tried their hardest to kill him. The emperor would have been an idiot to give them authority after that. In the end, he only stayed close to one member of his family, and it cost him his life."

While Corco brooded over the betrayal of Caelestis, Eclestius remained quiet. The king wasn't sure what the prince thought about his own father, about the coward and weakling who still threatened to destroy their house, but he appeared uncomfortable, with a deep frown on his face.

"Do you hate my father?" Corco asked, willing to switch topics. Who would want others to talk poorly of their own father, no matter what they had done?

"By the time this prince was old enough to be aware of his surroundings, your father was already a great hero among the lords. Already he had distinguished himself on the political arena, and shortly after, he became a great general in his fight against the southerners. To be honest, we never had enough contact to foster emotions as strong as hate. Though after my exile, I did resent him, for a while."

"And now?"

A sigh let Eclestius' brows smoothe.

"Upon this blasted rock, one has ample time to reflect. A quiet life is not so bad, even more so now, when the outside is plagued by constant troubles. When I see brothers tear each other apart, I am glad to be born too late to be involved in succession."

"You're strangely well informed for someone who is supposed to be exiled." Corco chuckled. The elderly ferryboy must have kept the islanders connected to the outside world, a small solace for those left behind by the world.

"Is this your cause here, King Corco? Do you intend to jail me for my crimes? Or my ferryboy?" Eclestius sat upright as he put strength in his voice. Only now did Corco realize how tall his uncle was.

"That would be a wasted trip for a king, wouldn't it?" he asked back, unimpressed by the show of force.

"Then why are you here, king?" the prince slumped back into his seat, and his voice calmed again. "If you do not mind my asking?"

"Soon, I intend to fight King Pacha head on and end the war."

"Congratulations, King Corco. Though please tell: How does it concern to do my lonely island?"

"Pacha's holed up in the Narrows, with his entire army. He's even built a pretty decent fortification. I can't attack them head on. I can, however, go around his army and strike his heartland directly. All I need to do is cross the appropriately named Narrow Sea. Just a short skip across and I'll be there. I already have the ships ready."

"Yet the Narrow Sea is dotted with the islands of exiled princes, current and former. No armies can get near the islands, so crossing the sea is not permitted, by law of the ancestors." With a keen eye, Eclestius spotted the crux of the issue. If he didn't want to offend the traditional forces of Medala, he would have to uphold the rules, like he had done so far.

"Unless you and your family give me express permission to pass within your lands, yes." Corco nodded in response. "I don't even need direct support. You only need to ignore the presence of a couple ships passing through your area. That's enough."

"...and what of my family? What happens should you lose the war?" his chin in his hand, the prince's calm eyes observed Corco's every move. Once again, his practice as a 'great seer' paid off. "I won't. I've beaten Pacha before, no more than a year ago, and I can do it again."

"Though I am no expert in combat, and not well informed on the details, I believe King Pacha would already expect King Corco's brash attack, should he not? At least a crossing does not seem far-fetched. King Pacha should have a plan in place to deal with these eventualities."

"Well, as a great philosopher once said: Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face," Corco grinned at his own joke. "War is messy, and you can't always plan the details. Even if he has scouts trained on the sea, Pacha has no fleet in the west. All of those ships belong to House Ichilia, and Lord Divitius won't support Pacha until the great King of the Center loses a fight or three. Makes him easier to control. So even if our movements are noticed, Pacha won't be able to move his army east in time to prevent our landing."

Again, Prince Eclestius raised his body. This time it didn't seem like an attempt at intimidation. This time, he was willing to negotiate.

"Then comes the most important question: Why should I risk my life, and that of my family, for a nephew I have never met, to support his war against other nephews I have never met?"

"Well, for starters, Pacha isn't your nephew. He's your brother. That's a secret so open that even you should have heard about it. And he isn't only your brother, he is also vengeful, and paranoid. What do you think Pacha will do with his remaining brothers once he sits the throne?" Corco grinned. He knew Pacha would always be a danger to the remaining sons of Caelestis, and he knew that they were aware of it as well.

"So long as the standstill between kingdoms continues, King Pacha will not sit the silver throne, and neither will any other king," Eclestius answered. "Why would I weigh the scales in any direction when the current position suits me fine?"

"Well, seems like you're not as well-informed as I thought. Any day me and the idiot waste our time and resources on this pointless battle, Amautu's advantage grows. And for you, Amautu's ascension would hardly be any better than Pacha's. Both of them stand against tradition, and tradition is all that keeps your family alive. If Pacha becomes Emperor, he will most likely eradicate the princes on the islands, and maybe even try and make away with the family system.

If Amautu becomes emperor, he will replace all warriors in administration with scholars, Chutwa style. There will be no room for you in his advisory. Even worse, both of them plan to get rid of the Pacha faith, and replace it with their own false idols. Is that what you want, the destruction of our ancient customs and traditions at the hands of your own family?"

"Tradition has kept us safe, yet it also dooms us to rot away, bit by bit, generation by generation." Deep-seated bitterness had invaded the prince's voice. This was indeed the greatest problem the exiled princes faced, and it was also the best way for Corco to get what he wanted.

"True," he nodded, accompanied by a widening smile. "You're a former prince, and in terms of status, you can be considered a lord's equal. Though as an exile, your children can only be warriors. Even worse, their own children, your grandchildren will be commoners, nothing more, forced to leave the island. But I can change that. I can offer you or any of your children a position among my warriors, to retain their status for future generations. Since sentiments and traditions will not move you, this will be my offer: A future for your family."

"Why me? Why not one of the others?" Eclestius had shrunk into an uncomfortable positions as his body twisted in thought. He still looked unconvinced, still suspicious.

"Although we have never met, I did my homework, or at least my spymaster did. You are too young. When my father sat the throne, you weren't even a grown man yet, so you never really fought. There should be much less animosity between us than there is between me and the older princes. Also, you have children."

Like a spring, Eclestius unfurled his posture and jumped up, as his voice boomed through the room. "You dare threaten mine? Even if you are a king, it is not something to be forgiven."

Though it had of course been a threat, this wasn't something Corco would tell the prince. Neither that he was only the third candidate for the crossing. They had gone with someone less obvious, since Tama assumed that the other kings might have placed their own informants on the more likely islands.

"Cool your jets, uncle," he said, still calm. "I'm not here to threaten you. I'm here to make you an offer, make you understand. As a Pluritac prince, you were destined to be emperor, and you practiced the World's Embrace, the family's cultivation technique. You are over ten years my elder, yet you look like my brother, maybe even like my younger brother with all the R and R you've been getting up here. In twenty years, you will still look the same as you do now. Your daughter will die long before you do. She will never learn the mysteries of House Pluritac and die long before you, but at least you can guarantee her a life of comfort."

Again, all tension left the prince's body as he stared down Corco, who still continued his speech..

"But she carries a child now. What about your grandchild then? It will be born a commoner, with no right to learn cultivation. Your own flesh and blood will be forced to leave the island, and with it your protection. Then, by the time you turn seventy, in many decades, you will be allowed to leave by yourself. Maybe you will even meet your lost offspring again, but is that what you want? Do you want to see your grandchild die gray-haired and broken, as he kneels in the mud to harvest the rice of another lord? If you want to avoid your fate, I'm your only bet. Don't you think your grandchild's future is worth gambling your present for? That's what I can give you."

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"So could your brothers." Though still defiant, Eclestius had calmed down a lot. His answer was weak, and they both knew it.

"But they don't need you, and they don't want you. I do, just this once. So take your chance, or watch your legacy crumble to dust before your eyes."

Corco stood up and left without another word. He knew he had won. An hour later, Eclestius agreed to let Corco's fleet pass the island. Just in time, as his fleet was already on its way to pick him up, his army in tow. They had to move fast if they wanted to avoid the enemy spies. By the time Pacha got hold of the information, it would already be too late.