Enlightened Empire

While the war had long begun on the front lines, everything was still peaceful in Corco’s tent at the center of their main camp. The feet of his scouts were much faster than the steps of war though, so he could still listen in on some stories from the front.

"King Corco, our officers report that King Pachacutec’s probing raids have been repelled, one and all. There have been only very sporadic losses on our side, a mere four soldiers in total. Two of them died from a fall when they panicked atop the walls. According to our scouts in the east, King Pachacutec no longer sends raid parties out of his advanced camp. Instead, he seems to prepare for another move. His aim may be a direct confrontation, so we expect his main army to cross into occupied territory soon."

"How many?" Corco asked, one hand on his chin. In response, his servant only offered a dull look.

"Please excuse this servant’s ignorance, King Corco, but-"

"How many warriors from the enemy side did we kill?" As he asked the question, his brows wrinkled.

"Oh, great King! Our brave men wiped out a total of one hundred and sixteen enemy warriors in battle. Surely, now the opposing lords will regret that they have ever opposed King Corco! Our warriors have brought great glory to our kingdom."

Once he understood the question, the servant’s spine straightened as he told of their troops’ exploits with a sparkle in his eyes. However, the recipient of the good news had no interest in celebrations. Still in a terrible mood, Corco waved in the vague direction of the tent’s entrance.

"You can go now. Tell the soldiers to get ready for deployment, and send runners to recall all platoons from the front line. We’ll be going on the move soon."

"Yes, King Corco."

The man failed to notice Corco’s poor facial expression, or he chose to ignore it. Either way, he replied in a chipper manner and turned on his heels to leave the king’s command tent. A few moments after the servant had left, Tamaya came out from behind a curtain in the tent’s back.

"Please excuse the servant’s undue enthusiasm," Tama said. She had really started to cut down on the useless formalities in recent weeks. "As an ordinary warrior, he fails to see the bigger picture, and in his joy over our victory, he forgot himself."

Of course Tama would be aware of Corco’s general distaste for battle in general, and this war in particular. After all, the eldest son of the emperor considered everyone in Medala one of his subjects. Even more, the humanist Corco considered all of his countrymen compatriots, be they friend or foe. Worse yet, many of the warriors on Pacha’s side still carried the name Pluritac, and would have been part of Emperor Corco’s household without the machinations of the Ancestral Hall. Despite the servant’s inconsiderate actions, he just waved away Tama’s apology to offer one of his own.

"Rather than that, I feel sorry you have to hide like this." As he spoke, Corco offered Tama the empty seat next to his command chair with a troubled face.

After the rumors had spread, even some of the ghosts, Tama’s own subordinates, had begun to show restraint and downright fear whenever they saw her. As a result, Corco had decided to keep her out of the public eye until they had calmed down a bit. Still, quasi-exiling one of his own didn’t feel great.

"It is no trouble at all," Tama sat down with a smile. "I prefer to operate out of sight."

"So you just won’t meet people anymore?"

"If I ever wish to show off a new dress, I can still do so in a more private setting." The girl’s sheepish smile had loaded her innocent words with meaning.

"...sure. Let’s leave it at that," Corco replied in a defensive tone. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Tama’s calm voice cut through the awkward atmosphere.

"It appears as if you decided to face your peacock uncle in an open confrontation, is that correct? While I believe a quick and decisive victory is a good method to limit the casualties on both sides, I am unsure whether we need to take the risk."

"We’re not gonna fight them," Corco replied with a grin, "not if we can avoid it."

"Although I might be speaking out of line, but in war, casualties are unavoidable. We cannot save everyone in this conflict. Even if you consider the warriors under Pacha your subjects, they have sworn no oath of loyalty and do not share your notions. They have come to fight and kill."

Why did all of Corco’s supporters tell him to toughen up? Was his image really so weak?

"Yeah, don’t worry. I’m not avoiding conflict because I think we can somehow talk our way out of this. I just don’t wanna give the other forces a chance to profit from our movements. You know, Amautu, Divitius and Herak will jump at the chance if they see us weakened. Rather than fight a mutual losing battle, we’ll have Pacha chase us around the snow for a bit until we can gain time for your brother to lead the craftsmen south. Then we’ll retreat back across the Narrow Sea."

"Thank you, King Corco." True relief filled Tama’s voice as she lowered her head. Though he understood that the girl had been worried for Fadelio’s safety, Corco was caught off guard by her unusual honesty.

"Well, he’s my friend too... and I really need another reliable attendant now that you’re persona non grata."

Before Corco could scold her again for ruining her own public image, Tama decided to switch topics.

"King Corco, even if we wish to avoid a clash with Pacha’s troops, would we even be able to prevent a confrontation? After all, most of the central army is comprised of warriors, while most of our men are nothing more than commoners. Even if we ignore the fact that Pacha’s men know the local terrain better, mortals should not be able to outrun cultivators, should they?"

"In that regard, I can offer two simple answers." Corco raised two fingers, another cocky grin on his face. "Sleighs and snow-shoes are the first answer. It’s self-explanatory, really. Just look outside. In this sort of weather, we will save a ton of energy with the help of our tools and have an almost insurmountable advantage in terms of endurance."

"Yet our enemies are powerful cultivators," Tama insisted. But of course, Corco had his answer ready.

"And those cultivators are the second reason they won’t catch us. Don’t look at the endurance of our runners as the standard for all warriors. They’re a special case, with a special cultivation technique that makes their metabolism that efficient. In fact, most warriors have far worse endurance than well-trained commoners, trading in efficiency for power. They’re more sprinters, really, like dwarves."

"Huh?" A clueless Tama tilted her head to the side. Maybe some day he would find some time to write out those books.

"Ah, it’s nothing," Corco returned to the topic at hand. "Anyways, all that power us cultivators can generate in short bursts is a real drain on our efficiency. As a result of our massive power consumption, we tend to run on empty rather quickly. That’s why warriors tend to fight short, intense battles, or repeatedly charge enemies and then disengage to catch their breaths. It’s also why we eat so much."

Corco picked up a raisin from a bowl before him and threw it into his mouth.

"And that’s where Pacha’s biggest problem lies: Since his army has thousands of warriors, all that extra food has to be stored somewhere. Though you say Pacha’s army is made up of mostly warriors, he has a giant baggage train of commoners with him to carry all the food for the fancy banquets and such. In total, all those levied craftsmen, merchants, magicians, priests, entertainers, whores, thieves and whatever else follows in an army’s wake will double his actual army in size, at least. In a longer pursuit, Pacha can’t exactly leave them behind and have his voracious hordes starve to death. No, if he wants to catch us, he will have to do it slowly, sidestep, cut off the ring... even then, we’ll do our best to slip away and gain time enough for our trapped people to free themselves."

Grateful, Tama nodded, though Corco felt like he could see a hint of bitterness play around her mouth.

"It is a sound strategy, King Corco. Should we get ready to set off as well?" With graceful movements, Tama got off from her seat and walked towards the entrance.

"Yeah, let’s-"

Before Corco could finish, another servant rushed into the tent, this one so flustered he even forgot a proper greeting.

"King Corco, an enemy commander has come to meet you."

"What’s going on?" Already half out of his seat, Corco sat down again. At first the scout leered at Tama, but Corco’s "talk" reminded him on his duties.

"An enemy vessel from the Narrow Sea approached our shoreline not long ago. Before it reached within cannon range, the ship let down a smaller boat to transport a single man ashore. He says his name is Arnao d’Ichilia, captain of the blockade fleet within the Narrow Sea, and he has come to negotiate."

"...in that case, bring him here as soon as possible. Make sure he doesn’t see the camp. We don’t want my uncle to know about our plans or our numbers."

"As you wish, King Corco." Calmed by the king’s own indifferent attitude, the servant bowed and left.

"What could that captain want?" Tama asked, still halfway to the entrance. All this time, the servant had just ignored her.

"Guess we’ll find out soon. Sorry, but you’ll have to hide again."

Like a ghost, the girl moved towards Corco, towards the curtains behind his seat.

"Not to worry, King Corco. My position by your side will not change, even if I become invisible."

"...good job?" a confused Corco said.

"Further, there is something I need to clarify: Our rescue mission to save Fadelio was, in truth, a success. He decided to stay, in part to guarantee the safety of the craftsmen under his care, and in part to force you into action."

Corco was surprised by her honesty. After he had worked through his spy master’s rare openness, he showed a forced smile.

"I thought it was something like that. He’s done that sort of stuff before, you know? Though in this case, his actions are pointless. I wouldn’t have left the craftsmen to die, and he should know that pretty well. They’re too important for the future of Saniya. At least you told me the truth right now, when no one’s around. Otherwise, I would have to punish him again for doing his job. I’ll talk with him when he comes back and make sure he’s more discreet in the future. Seems like he can’t even trust his own family."

"Thank you, King Corco." Tama ignored Corco’s sigh and disappeared into the background again.

__________________________

When Captain Arnao took the heavy jute bag off his head, he first scanned his surroundings. Despite his quick wit, the southern king had to disappoint him. His warriors had already drawn the tent’s entrance closed, so there was nothing to see.

*No intel for you,* Corco thought as he waited for his opposite to speak. Even though he had shown the bravery to initiate negotiations in from a weak position, the man to his opposite was a nervous wreck. His eyes flitted all over the place and his face was covered with a thin film of grime. For a captain, he seemed hardly capable of anything, but looks could be deceiving. As for looks, he also appeared quite thin for a high-status warrior. This should be the reason for their negotiations.

"King Corcopaca, allow me to introduce myself: My name is Arnao d’Ichilia, High Captain of the United Fleet of House Ichilia. Although we have met as foes on the field of battle, this captain has always felt nothing but admiration for King Corcopaca’s heroic deeds. Yes indeed, he is a great man of great stature, and thus this captain believes we will be able to speak well, for the good of all of Medala."

"...so what do you want?" Corco really despised this sort of boot licking. Since the man was used to the Ichilia court in Huaylas, the king decided to humor his bad habits for now. If Spuria was any indication, that place must have been full of snakes. However, Corco’s patience remained unrewarded, as the nervous Arnao droned on.

"King Corcopaca. Ever since the start of the war, both our sides have caused great damage to each other. Our great and noble sailors blockaded your passage across the Narrow Sea, and prevented the transport of King Corcopaca’s further troops. In retaliation, King cut off our supplies and prevented our own landing efforts. However, this captain believes that there is no need for such mutual destruction among men of Medala. Both sides possess great honor and the spirit of warriors-"

"Get to the fucking point."

Throughout the speech, Corco’s body had sunk deeper and deeper into his chair, like a spring put under pressure. While he still hadn’t exploded, he wasn’t far off. In response to the rude interruption, Arnao remembered his position and swallowed heavily, before he got on his knees and spoke with tears in his eyes. Whether his actions were fake or real was hard to distinguish.

"This captain hoped that King Corcopaca could find it in his heart to lift the blockade of the shoreline and allow our ships to take on foodstuffs. Aboard our fleet, not even the rats are safe from the hungry stomachs of my men. The first few have already starved to death. Although the lonely islands are right besides us, we are forbidden from entry, on Lord Ichilia’s order... thus, please King Corco, show mercy and allow my men to eat."

Despite the impassioned speech, Corco remained unimpressed, If intrigued. Maybe this was a chance to lift the blockade. At least it was worth a shot.

"Okay, so what’s your offer?" he asked in anticipation. A good few seconds passed while the kneeling captain only returned a dull stare.

"Please excuse me, King Corcopaca, I fail to understand." Finally, Arnao’s system rebooted, but he still came up empty.

"Your offer," the king repeated. "You know, since I’m giving you food to make sure you don’t starve to death, what will you do for me in return?"

"That’s..." the man’s blank stare told Corco all he needed to know. This idiot had come here without any plan, hadn’t he? With a groan, the king hid the pain on his face behind his hand.

"How about you stop the blockade then?" Corco suggested.

"That is impossible, King Corcopaca. Where would we go? All paths out of the sea are blocked off by your men."

"Okay, then how about you just let my ships through? The Narrow Sea is pretty wide after all, despite its name. Just make some room and let us pass. Pretend you didn’t see us or something."

The captain’s grimy, haggard and tear-stained face somehow became even more miserable.

"But... King Corcopaca, Lord Ichilia has ordered this captain to stand his ground at all cost. Insubordination is impossible."

In response to the sheer lunacy before him, Corco balled his fists until they began to shake while he bit down on his lips, hard. It was all in a desperate struggle to not kill the idiot right on the spot.

"Please stop talking or my head is gonna explode," he forced through his teeth while his fists pressed against his temples. "Are you saying you came here, and your great plan was to... ask for help? How the fuck did you even come up with this shit?"

"King Corcopaca, please help us."

"You’re fucking kidding me!" At last the king exploded and jumped out of his chair. "Did you actually come to beg your enemy to go easy on you cause you’re not doing well? And you’re not even offering anything in return? What the fuck is wrong with you? Get the fuck up! You don’t need a spine, but a commander should at least have a brain, right? Guards! Get that idiot out of here. Don’t let him come back until he understands what a negotiation is."

After the idiot captain’s head disappeared within another sack, he was led out of the tent by Corco’s guards. The king watched in consternation, until he broke out into uproarious laughter. If all of Pacha’s commanders proved this competent, maybe the war would be easier than he thought.

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