A Coup in the Night
Ricmo crouched in the shadows and fog at the base of the Duke's Tower. The stone tower was large, old, and poorly maintained, all crumbling masonry and rotting mortar. Ricmo could hear the faint pounding of surf, coming from far below him, where the cliffs the tower was built on met the sea. The wind howled.
Looking east, he should be able to see the entire harbor and town of Puerto Lejos spread out below him. If it wasn't for the fog pouring down from the heights. Instead all he could see was fog, and the barest outlines of the tips of the taller building as they occasionally wafted in and out of existence above the blanket of white.
He could certainty HEAR the town though. The inhabitants had just been unexpectedly delivered from the threat of invasion, and they were in the mood to celebrate. Earlier, when Ricmo had quietly taken his leave, he had left pretty much the entire town congregated in the main square, partying like there was no tomorrow. All according to plan.
The wind was from the west, bringing the fog from the sea. Quite the stroke of luck, really. They had hoped for a foggy night to conceal their operations, but not counted on it. Of course Ricmo was nothing, if not lucky.
Ricmo smiled to himself remembering a conversation he had overheard late one night on the deck of the Lady Jezebel, between one of the new Red Watch Marines and Ali, the leader of the Masriqi contingent. They had taken the marines onboard to supply some added muscle in their battle with Bigtime, and the marine had been aghast at the relative greenness on nautical matters, of the Lady Jezebel's captain. After ranting out a litany of lubberly behavior he had personally witnessed from this so called "Captain Ricmo" he had cumulated in " flapping about with no sense of direction, helpless as a kitten on a raft and as clueless as a barnacle on a tree, wouldn't know a jib from a mainsail if it hit them in the face."
Ali had listened to the entire diatribe quietly, with a smile on his dark, bearded face and then, fixed the marine with a serious look, and agreed. "Aye, all that and more. But, even though he be a lubber, and green to boot, he is LUCKY. Luckiest Captain in these seas. And that makes up for all. And that is why there is no Captain more loved or willingly followed. Nor more successful in his endeavors"
Well, if he had to choose between skill and luck, Ricmo would choose luck any day. And so of course, the fog had rolled in. Along with roughly a million bats
There had been a map and a plan. A relatively complicated plan, in Ricmo's opinion, with way too many moving pieces. Ricmo liked simple plans, not because he was stupid, but because he was wise, at least wise in the ways of the stupidity of men. The simpler the plan, the less likely for some idiot to misunderstand it and blow the whole thing, or for chance to bugger it up just for shits and giggles.
Still, he was not the architect of this particular "forceful change of governance" as Abigail Carr put it. That was the Colonel, who was a career military man and supposedly knew what he was doing. Admittedly, there was much to be done, and it all needed to be done quickly, in order to secure the town. It had seemed unlikely, he grudgingly admitted, that a simple plan would get them what they wanted.
0: Use the Colonel's position as the commander of the Red Watch to sideline as many potential foes as possible. This meant sending disloyal (to the Colonel) defenders of the city away on a show of force beyond the town wall. This ruse was supported by rumors of tribal unrest (some started by their allies among the First People). Evidently these maneuvers were a pretty common occurrence, as a way to keep the local tribes in line. The patrol had already left, earlier today, and little attention had been given it. So far, so good.
1: Secure, by stealth, the Duke's Tower and its commanding position, ready its artillery to support the plot, without alerting the rest of the island.
2: The Lady Jezebel to stealthily board The Summer Gale and make sure the Galleon didn't cause any problems
3: Then, drop the hammer, secure the center of government; Vetrini House and the town square, capturing Lorenzo Vetrini the de facto ruler of the town. By any means necessary. Failing to capture Lorenzo, kill him. At all costs, prevent his escape, as a rallying point for the loyalist's forces.
4: At the same time, infiltrate and capture Castillo Negro, the most powerful fortification on the island.
5: With Lorenzo captured and the key fortifications under rebel control, demand the surrender of the other outlying forts, crown the current figurehead Governor Andre De Bergiac, as Duke Carlos VII, Lord of Puerto Lejos and protector of the Archipelago. It was Ricmo's belief that the puppet would remain a puppet, he would just now be OUR puppet. With a crown and a much fancier title.
And there you have it, Bob's your uncle.
Ricmo was still skeptical. That was a lot to do in a single night, and they didn't have a large amount of people to do it with. Their order of battle was a bit thin. A couple dozen of the Red Watch whose loyalty to the Colonel was unquestioned. A handful of First People Scouts, who hated the Vetrini with a passion and who owed the Carr sisters. The crew of the Lady Jezebel and the powerful ship herself. A few bully boys and townsfolk that the storekeeper Gordon Rough could throw in.
It didn't seem much of an army to array against the Vetrini, one of the most powerful of the Merchant Houses of Haven. Even if they were successful, there had been a fair amount of internal debate among the Jezebels on whether making further enemies among the merchant houses was a wise thing to do. The Vetrini were known to have long memories. But, in the end, they had decided that it was that, or give all these people up for the slaughter. And hell, it wasn't like most of those oligarch's weren't enemies already, more or less...
Still, it wasn't entirely hopeless. The Vetrini had withdrawn most of their military assets already, keeping only a skeleton force to loot and evacuate Puerto Lejos, so the enemy's ranks were thin as well. Also, Ricmo reckoned even if all they managed was to take the Duke's Tower and capture Lorenzo they still had a decent chance of pulling off the job. A complex plan could be converted into a simple one if necessary. So, after some discussions with his shipmates, he had volunteered himself and the Jezebels for the most important tasks.
There was just one problem, but it was a big one and none of their little cadre of would-be revolutionaries had been able to find a solution to it. What to do with the three Galley's crewed by Vetrini Colonial Marines? These fast, light ships operated out of the small island fort the Marines controlled called La Triquetra. They could easily wreck everything.
The hundred plus Colonial Marines that crewed them were not under Colonel Stuart's command, neither were the forts and facilities on La Triquetra that supported them. While not overly loyal to their Vetrini masters, they had no cause to support an uprising, and also enjoyed a strong rivalry with Stuart and the Red Watch. Normally they stayed close, patrolling the harbor, and could easily join in the fight.
Their little conspiracy had argued for days about how to handle the galleys when suddenly the solution was handed to them on a silver platter. The Commodore of the small squadron had also been hearing the same rumors of tribal unrest in the wilder northern part of the island, and had, completely on his own, decided to take his squadron on a circumnavigation of the island to show the flag and put some fear into the natives. And one-up his rivals in the Red Watch no doubt. Isla Lejos was not incredibly large, but that would still mean the galleys would be gone for several days, along with most of the Colonial Marines.
They had a window, albeit a small one, to strike.
Which was how Ricmo found himself crouched before this ancient tower, in the dark, drenched and chilled to the bone by the fog, listening to the soldiers above laughing and drinking as they tried to catch glimpses with a spyglass of the big victory celebration that was currently occupying the center of town.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Larkin was feeling nervous, but she hid it well. As the more extroverted of the two sisters, she generally needed to project confidence, or else Poe, who was a basket case before any performance, would have a total meltdown.
There was quite a crowd outside the second floor balcony of the Governor's House they were using as a stage. A crowd that was here to see Fantastic Freddy, not a couple of hick sisters no one had ever heard of. Admittedly, as Freddy's pupils, they were just the opening act, but Freddy was not here and had been a bit cagey about when exactly he was going to be back. They were alone. And that crowd sounded ravenous.
Emma Carr, who had done most of the work organizing the victory celebrations (or "organizing the distraction" as she had called the task), stuck her head into the dressing room. "Best get to it!" she commanded chirpily, pointing to the balcony overlooking the crowded town square.
Poe gulped and even Larkin looked a little green at the prospect. Emma, mother to a dozen children, picked up on the nervousness instantly, "You got this girls, that crowd may be noisy but it's in a good mood. Now go do what you do. Be amazing."
The two sisters looked at each other, squared their shoulders, and walked out on the stage.
-------------------------------------------
"Are you here Freddy!" Ricmo hissed. From the empty air next to him he heard a murmured "In a manner of speaking Daddy’o." Freddy was getting pretty good at the whole invisibility thing. Ricmo was staring right at him, but all he saw was the tower wall.
The stealthy Halfling sidled up to the large wooden door and got to work on the lock. So far, the tower hadn't noticed a thing, but despite the cartload of "Victory Beer" the innkeepers had sent up earlier, the soldiers had proven to be annoyingly disciplined. So Ricmo was careful to be quiet as he picked the lock.
Once the mechanism gave way to his nimble fingers, he reached into his pouch and pulled out a smooth stone, etched with runes and markings. Holding it up to his lips he whispered a single word. "Go".
-------------------------------------------
Ozraeline paced the quarterdeck of the Lady Jezebel, watching as Ali smoothly steered the frigate through the light fog that wrapped the harbor. The fog was a mixed blessing, on the one hand it concealed the Lady J as she crept up on her quarry. On the other hand, they couldn't see their target, and navigation was difficult in the extreme. She hoped the Summer Gale hadn't changed her anchorage for some reason.
The deck of the ship was quiet, the fog muffled all sound. The ship only bore the barest of sails to minimize the snapping sound of canvas. The sounder in the bow taking the harbor depth communicated only by hand signs relayed in a chain back to the helmsman, in order to avoid making any noise. The silence and the fog were eerie. Ozraeline half thought they had drifted into The Shadowlands again.
From the bow next to the sounder, Blue Archie held his hand high, his watery old eyes fixed on the waves, his ears cocked to hear the sounds of the harbor. The hand signal indicating that he believed they were approaching their destination. "That old man is a drunk" Ozraeline thought, "but he is a helluvah sailor and pilot, when he's sober." Piloting the Lady Jezebel accurately from one side of the harbor to the other, in the fog, by dead reckoning and sound alone, that was no mean feat. Assuming they had, in fact, reached their destination.
Ali turned to her and flashed a grin, white teeth shining in the diffused moonlight, a contrast to his full dark beard and his dark, swarthy face. "We seem to have arrived!" he commented in a low voice.
"Boat away" Ozraeline murmured, and a few moments later, with a muffled "plop" the smallest of the Lady Jezebel's boats hit the water. This was one of the more dangerous parts of the plan. The idea was to have the small rowboat scout the way for them, find the Summer Gale and validate if they were, in fact, where they thought they were. Then, if all was as expected, the Lady Jezebel would strike suddenly, out of the fog, and take the Galleon by storm, trusting to the din of the party to mask any gunshots or other noises.
Hopefully most of the crew of the Galleon were ashore enjoying the victory party, and hopefully those left behind wouldn't be so on guard as to notice a small rowboat in the fog. However, the Lady Jezebel had taken this very ship and crew by force in this very harbor not a month ago. Ozraeline was worried the experience would make the crew especially on their guard.
Ali, mirroring her thoughts, grinned at her again. "Perhaps we shouldn't have given it back last time, aye? Much wasted effort to take the same ship twice." Oz smiled. "We’ll keep it this time I think". Ali gave her a fist pump.
-------------------------------------------------------------
The strike against the Duke's Tower had gone off without a hitch. Freddy and Ricmo had stormed the lower floors, quickly supported by Tello and Whisperleaf. Dakhir and The Sturg had leveraged Dakhir's powers of flight to attack from above, landing on the battlements and securing the great cannon. The defenders were taken completely by surprise, and after a short, sharp, and relatively silent fight, the tower was theirs.
"I only heard two gunshots" Dakhir observed. The Strurg nodded, then reached down and flicked a spec of imaginary dust off a barely perceptible ding in his magic breastplate. "Good armor" Dakhir chuckled.
Whisperleaf, wasting little time, loosened one of the lit torches from the parapet and waved it in a figure eight pattern, the agreed upon signal for the Red Watch loyalist cannon crew to come to the tower and relieve them. "Hope they can see this through the fog" he murmured. "Seems to be lessening." Ricmo replied encouragingly. "Yes, I think I see movement at the base of the hill."
"On to the square then, and our good friend Lorenzo Vetrini. I wonder how the Lady Jezebel is doing?" Dakhir mused.
"Well, no roar of cannon from the bay, that's a good sign" Ricmo answered cheerily. "Unless they are lost in the fog I guess. Or run aground. Oh well, we've rolled the dice, now we can only wait to see how they land."
-----------------------------------------------------
The Colonel had a list, which he was mentally reviewing as he strode down the decaying halls of Castillo Negro. A part of his mind that wasn't mentally reviewing his list took a moment to be disgusted by the shape the citadel was in. Castillo Negro had been a proud, powerful fortress once, one of the strongest bastions in the Northern Reach, the seat of a ruling Duchy, but decades of neglect had turned it into little more then a decaying pile of stones at this point. He understood the difficulty and expense of maintaining such a large fortress, and admittedly the citadel was a bit of an anachronism in this modern age, so he couldn't really fault the Vetrini for not prioritizing it, but the romantic in him was always discouraged by the state of disrepair. He mentally shrugged to himself. The Vetrini were cheap, gods know, no fighting that. Practical as well, they'd spend money when they had to, but "skinflint" didn't even begin to describe it. He got back to his list.
He always had a list. The Colonel was a highly disciplined and extremely organized man. You didn't climb to the top of the one of the premier mercenary companies in the entire Thousand Islands without possessing both those traits. This particular list was a list of names, the entire hundred members of the Red Watch and anyone else likely to be within the walls of the Castillo Negro tonight. There were three categories on his list; "Loyal. Disloyal. Chancy". Pretty much all the "Disloyal" and most of the "Chancy" names were currently bivouacking deep in the jungle twenty miles north of here. Supposedly showing the flag to the Curari, demonstrating that Puerto Lejos was still powerful enough to protect itself from raids despite any rumors to the contrary.
In reality, those soldiers were camping wet in the jungle so they wouldn't be underfoot as he took over the town.
There were about a dozen members of the "Chancy" category still in the fortress. Mostly civilians but also two soldiers with minor ailments that had prevented them from joining their brothers on patrol. And one member of the "Disloyal" category. The Colonel's face soured to even think of that waste of space. Matteo Vetrini's arrogance was only surpassed by his stupidity. Even his own family hadn't had much use for him, which was why he had been made "military liaison", relocated to the Castillo and inflicted on the Colonel.
The Colonel and his entourage of thirteen Red Watch (all firmly in the "Loyal" category of course) had not been questioned when they entered the castle, and had now reached the main armory of the New Castillo. The two soldiers guarding the door saluted the Colonel, turned smartly on their heels and fell into position with the troops that had been accompanying him, bringing their number to fifteen.
Colonel Stuart removed a large iron key from his belt, opened the armory door and walked in. Rows of muskets, halberds, pikes and swords lined the walls. He turned to the fifteen soldiers that now made up his band. "Meet your dates for the evening, boys" he quipped to his men. The soldiers smiled back, excited at the prospect of action. "I'll take the tall blonde" Lieutenant Smythe replied, pointing at a halberd with a white oak haft.
After arming his men and locking the armory securely behind him, the plan called for the group to split up into three teams. He nodded to his two lieutenants. "As we discussed, Allister will take the northern bastions, Smythe the south, I'll take the inner keep. Remember boys, stick to the story and try to avoid drawing attention but speed is more important then subtlety at this point. Anyone gives you any lip, feel free to smack them around a bit as long as ye do it quietly. Try not to kill anyone, but needs must. Round them up, round them up fast and round them up quiet like. " They both nodded back decisively and saluted. "Ok then, time for a coup!" He smiled ferociously to himself. For once he was looking forward to a conversation with Matteo Vetrini.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The aptly named Victory Square was packed with revelers as Freddy took the stage. The population, of the town had been warmed up nicely by Larkin and Poe, and Freddy made time to congratulate the both of them on putting on a great show. Now it was time for the main attraction.
As he stepped out onto the balcony of the Governor's House, taking the centerstage recently vacated by his warmup act, the crowd ROARED. Freddy was a big name, in and of himself, and this was a backwater town, but his association with one of the ships that had played a crucial role in sending Bigtime to the bottom of the sea, well he had never seen a crowd more enthusiastic to see him. He basked in it for a moment. And then he got to work.
He had one job as part of the coup, and it was a job he was uniquely suited for. That was to keep every eye in the square and surrounding buildings glued on him and oblivious to whatever mischief his friends got up to. Freddy's magic was not flashy, like Whisperleaf's or Dakhir's, it was more subtle, but just as powerful. If he needed to, he knew songs that would mesmerize everyone in this square, rob them entirely of will and lock them down for as long as Freddy needed to, He doubted he would need to do anything as extreme as that in this situation though, a normal performance would probably suffice.
Fantastic Freddy performed a stylish bow and gave a dazzling smile, then grabbed his magical mic.
"HELLOOO PUERTO LEJOS!"
-------------------------------------------------
"I only see one lookout, on the cupola balcony, and he's pretty engrossed by our bard friend" Tello lowered the spyglass. "Impossible to say whether we are being watched from the arrow slits."
The heroes were carefully concealed, hidden in a set of buildings to the rear of Vetrini House and the square, as they planned their assault on the fortress building. "I guess it's too much to hope that old Lorenzo would be out on the roof watching the show and taking the air?" Ricmo asked.
"Even you aren't that lucky." Dakhir laughed. "Besides I doubt he's much of a fan of Valorian Swing,"
"I am liking those little entrances in the dome, all those little doors and windows" Ricmo gestured. "Be pretty easy to climb that back wall and enter from above. A lot easier then raising that portcullis. Not that I doubt The Sturg would have any trouble there, but going in the front door, it just isn't our style."
"We know the top of the lanterna must be accessible from the building" Tello reasoned, "given the guard made it up there somehow. Probably a stairway inside. Properly constructed, a circular staircase makes a lot of sense, it would strengthen the overall structure..." and Tello was gone into his own little world as he mumbled and jotted figures on an old handkerchief.
"Ok up the back wall, neutralize the guard while Freddy keeps everyone looking away." Ricmo declared.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
The first Lorenzo Vetrini knew anything was wrong was when one of his aides came rushing into his personal office, unannounced and covered in blood. He frowned. He didn't like being interrupted while he was working, it was bad enough all the din the rabble outside were making without having Giuseppe bursting in bleeding all over the place. He should have the common courtesy to bleed in his own office. On his own time.
He looked down his nose at the unfortunate minion. "Yes?" he said icily. "I assume you have some VERY compelling reason to interrupt my work?" he asked.
"Vetrini House is under attack! It's The Jezebel', they are inside the walls, killing everyone! They killed Marco and Philippi! I barely escaped with my life. The House has fallen!" Giuseppe blubbered in a panic.
Lorenzo felt the icy fingers of fear working their way up his spine. He was not a stupid man, on the contrary, he was an extremely intelligent one. And because he was intelligent, he had been against the scheme to loot the remaining treasures of the citizenry of Puerto Lejos prior to a final withdrawal. Not out of any concern for the well-being of the town of course. "Too suspicious, too likely to spark unintended consequences, and most importantly too slow. Better to grab what we can and leave in the night" he'd argued. But the Head Office was seriously in the red on this whole operation, and was greedy to rectify that however they could.
As he sat there listening to Giuseppe blubber, he realized he was in a very precarious situation. Perhaps discretion was the better part of valor? There were ways to escape the building, ways only known to a few of the family, secret tunnels and passages. Still, Giuseppe was a fool and even he claimed there were only half a dozen or so assailants. It was probably premature to think of fleeing. The Vetrini were not kind to members who lacked commitment and resolve, putting their own wellbeing ahead of house interests. He still had half a dozen of his personal guard, billeted close by, and there were...other allies he could call on if needed. He decided to investigate.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Radiant Lightbringer had been told to guard the courtyard and ensure no one escaped to bring reinforcements while his companions cleared the fortress house room by room. The gates were closed the portcullis was down, it would be pretty hard for anyone to get out, but it was still a reasonable precaution to take. So, he was alone when Lorenzo emerged from the basement level.
Lorenzo had outrun his guards a bit, as they had paused to load their muskets and he hadn't waited for them. He took the courtyard in, strewn with his dead retainers, and the shining armor of his opponent and decided that "additional allies" were probably called for in this circumstance. The Vetrini were loathe to reveal their most secret set of alliances, he would have to kill everyone who witnessed this, including his own men. Still, power was useless if you feared to use it. Oh well, omelets, eggs.... He reached into his pouch, withdrew a ruby the size of a fist and flung it at Radiant.
A few seconds later the rest of the party heard the screams of the unfortunate cleric, screams which quickly ended in a gurgle. Of one mind, they rushed to the courtyard, to the aid of their friend only arriving in time to see him fall.
"What...is that?" asked Ricmo in awe.
"That. Is a Marilith" said Dakhir. He sounded impressed. "A greater demon. Bad. Very very very bad business."
Comments
Post a Comment