Chapter 139 Muddy waters - The pirates on the Bay (II)

Chapter 139 Muddy waters - The pirates on the Bay (II)

It took Henry and his troops half an hour to finally arrive at Frostwave Bay, the snow slowly covering the tracks of the horses and people.

"Halt! Identify yourselves!!" - A cry pierced the air, halting their advance. A wavy-haired man stood before them, behind him were hundreds if not thousands of armed villagers filling the streets of the city, like ants.

They had never encountered anyone from the king's retinue aside from the General and his soldiers, and lacking any identifiable insignia, recognition was almost impossible. Henry hadn't prepared any banners with the Royal symbol to travel East, a tactic to travel more silently through this region. In the end, he just didn't wish to be bothered in every corner, mainly by merchants.

"Seems they've inherited the bandits' ways" - Henry mused, his gaze flickering with a crafting light - "Their militia knowledge might prove useful, not only their sailing techniques."

In response to the man's demand, Leier tapped her horse's flank, her unsheathed sword glinting as the silver sea surrounding the bay - "Such insolence, bearing weapons in the presence of the king!" - she billowed in anger, her eyes fixed on the wavy-haired man.

"Shall we execute you all for royal treason?" - Her words seemed to cast a shadow over the assembled crowd, sending a shiver down their spines - "Bow your heads!" - Leier commanded, her steed pawing the ground, ready to charge and begin a bloodshed. The cavalry followed suit, poised for action.

Fear flashed in the wavy-haired man's eyes as he tightened his grip on his axe, fighting the urge to run away and drop his weapon - "I am Svart Bolge" - he stammered - "Acting chief under General Iosif's orders. We're loyal to the throne, but we must verify your identity first. It was an order from the General himself before departing."

"Are there any larger ships?"- Henry asked, his gaze fixed on the docked ships. The sailors were throwing nets teeming with fish onto the wooden planks. The ships were small and simple, with only a single square sail and able to accommodate no more than ten people.

A tall, white-haired elder was walking alongside the king, his weathered beaten face was a testament of the time he spent on the sea. He had a long hair and a beard that reached his chest. The old man was wearing a leather attire, typical for the people in Stahl, who had no access to wool or cotton.

"Nay, yer Majesty" - he replied respectfully, trying his best to sound formal, but the accent of the sea filling his lips. The accent was quite strong, different from the other regions of Stahl. Maybe because they were too far away from the center of power or only this old man had such an accent - "We've tried to build larger ships to get more fishes, but the wood just can't hold. They're always breaking on us. Six already died"

He was one of the six shipbuilders in Frostwave Bay, perhaps of the whole kingdom. Henry had no one within his court with expertise in shipbuilding. The library he inherited, when acquiring the First Sword, likely contained no information on the subject either, its shelves were filled with ancient spells, martial arts and history books. He needed to develop the craft from here on.

"How far have you all gone from the bay?" - the king asked, his steps echoing with each footfall upon the wooden docks as he, Leier, and the old man walked.

"Not far, yer Majesty" - the old man replied - "We staysclose to the bay, always keepin' it in our sights. Tried sailin' farther once, durin' the fish mating season, but the sailors said the winds turned 'em back."

"Have ye sent any other ships to try?" Henry asked, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon through the cracks in the rocky barriers protecting the city. "Nay, 'tis too risky, and the matin' seasons come 'round only every six winters. We make do by stockin' up on food, relyin' on what the previous village chiefs left us" - The old man explained, gazing the king cautiously, remembering that the chiefs were all bandits.

Nevertheless, Henry didn't seem to care - "Good" - he muttered, scratching his chin thoughtfully and tapping it in rhythm - "Summon all the other shipbuilders to the village chief's house. I need a word with them"