Frederick V
Frederick walked the docks in the early morning light. His eyes squinted in defiance—he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in some time. These days, he was up until the godless hours working.
Frederick’s commercial fleet had doubled, but the paperwork had tripled. King Kyle, and his cronies, had made good on their word to provide Frederick with extra ships and crews. They were all confiscated from his rivals.
In addition, he was given the title of “Special Advisor to the Navy.” Frederick didn’t care much for titles, but this changed his life overnight. Suddenly the navy men of the dock saluted him. They stopped when they passed him and nodded, “commander,” they would say. Suddenly he had respect.
The job was sold to him as a middleman between the military and the private work he was doing with his now enormous fleet. The King had private shipments running through Frederick, and he was clear they must be properly escorted by navy ships. Frederick was also charged with making sure the navy ships were armed to the hulls with ammunition.
Truth be told, Frederick had taken on the job of three men. But he was also richly compensated for it.
Anyone in the business could do the work. It was going to get done with or without him. Frederick told himself to keep his head down and grind. Being friendly with the king came with benefits. And the opposite was made abundantly clear: the King ruthlessly plowed obstacles out of his way. Frederick hadn’t heard about General McCalister since his arrest.
This morning Frederick walked toward the entrance of the docks, where a massive send-off was underway.
It had taken longer than anticipated to get this trip ready. The King was determined to save Ironforge from anarchy. The workers had risen up and, according to rumor, now ran a military state of their own. Precious minerals stopped flowing from the city overnight and threatened to cripple Covidia’s economy.
“A beautiful sight,” General Kevin said to Frederick as he approached. Kevin regarded the scene with a shimmer in his eyes. The ships were teeming with soldiers, and their crews hustled to finish the last pre-launch checklists.
“They’ll hit a storm later in the week,” Frederick replied. He stood next to Kevin now and watched. “The captains will keep an eye on their instruments and redirect as necessary, but shouldn’t cause more than a day delay.”
“If that’s the fastest it can be done, we understand.” Kevin shook his head. “The sooner we can get the mines up and running again, the better.”
Frederick grunted. He turned and scanned the crowd. A large portion of Faucberg’s citizens had come out to see the soldiers off. They cheered and waved Kyle’s flag. These soldiers were off to save the nation. King Kyle had quickly quelled any rebellion inside the city walls. While there had been some weeks of unrest, the past few had been quiet. The city was back to peace. The people just wanted to go about their daily lives, and the magicians were a perfect target to blame for the disruption to the norm. Now that they were quiet, everyone felt safe. Civilians that felt safe were much happier.
It was the second send-off this month. A few weeks ago, a massive standing army departed Faucberg. They would stop in Water Town before heading south. King Kyle wanted peace throughout his land, which meant marching on all of Covidia. They were probably in Bread Town already.
Kevin looked at Frederick. “Keeping up on the barrels?”
“Got another loading up now, should be off this afternoon. Still planning for another batch tomorrow.”
“Excellent,” Kevin nodded in satisfaction. The King had instructed Frederick to redirect all shipments to Triton’s Bay. The safest place in the world for witches, wizards, and warlocks wouldn’t receive a single import from Covidia’s capital. No shipments were approved, and any ships bound for Triton’s Bay were seized and given to Frederick.
The King had plenty of goods to move to the neighboring continent, Ebolia, instead. Frederick didn’t know how, but King Kyle was able to fill every idle ship with sealed barrels to send overseas. Each load of barrels came with a caretaker that traveled with them and ensured none were opened. Frederick had no idea what was in the barrels. He was curious, but he wasn’t an idiot. If he was supposed to know, he would. The ships returned with exotic goods sold below market value to Kyle’s aristocratic friends.
“We’d like to send some of the prisoners off-shore,” Kevin said, unprompted. There were few times Frederick saw Kevin and didn’t receive new orders.
“We’re thin,” Frederick said. “But we’re ahead of bluefish quota for the season. I’d like to capitalize on the good fishing,” Frederick looked down. “But the King knows best.”
“How many prisoners could you transport? Single run, every fishing boat you have.”
Frederick thought for a moment. He did some quick math: the fishing boats weren’t designed for transport. They held plenty of fish, though. “How far?” He asked.
“Day trip south, to the islands off Flour Town.”
Curious. The King must have made plans for an off-shore prison. As far as Frederick knew, those islands were uninhabitable. “With one go, I’d say we can move just under 150.”
“Can you make it 200? They don’t need to be comfortable.”
Frederick grunted. Kevin wasn’t asking. “I can find enough seats for 200. How about security? Got a lot of ships now but things are tight, can’t afford to lose a single mast.”
“That won’t be a problem,” Kevin looked at him and slapped his shoulder. “You know by now that I’ll take care of ya, Fred.”
Frederick forced himself to lighten his face. He didn’t smile so much as convey his satisfaction. “200 it is. When were you hoping to send them off?”
“With the warriors out,” Kevin looked back at the ships, now pushing off the dock. “As soon as possible.”
“Morning after next,” Frederick nodded. “I’ll make it happen.”
Kevin smiled. “It’s why you’re the best, Fred. The smallfolk will sing stories of your climb to one of the King’s most trusted workers. You’ll retire a wealthy man when all this is done.”
Frederick nodded. He knew. He thought about it every day. He didn’t work his whole life to be given orders by the military. But this was temporary. His life would quiet down soon enough.
Previous Chapter: https://therealzsmith.com/2023/06/09/resistance-chapter-17/
Next Chapter: https://therealzsmith.com/2023/06/23/resistance-chapter-19/
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