Chapter 17: Pestilence

“You’ve got to be shitting me. No way in hell.”

Jack held back a laugh as he stared into Greg’s disbelieving face. It had already been several hours since they’d returned to the Destiny from Kat’s island home, and Jack had already shared his version of the events twice. It didn’t stop Greg from being any more accepting of the story, a fact that Jack couldn’t fault him for.

He wasn’t even sure if he really believed all that happened. It still felt like the previous couple days had been spent in a dream, and that any moment, he would wake up cradling Kat and Abigail just to find it was all a conjuring of his wildest imagination.

Try as he might, he never quite woke up.

“I know it’s hard to believe,” said Jack as he tapped his fingers against his own desk. “But here we are.”

“I mean, it finally gives us a real explanation for that blond head of yours,” said Greg with a laugh. “But the rest of it just seems too fantastical. Prophecies, dead kings, a magical sword—it’s a bit much for me, Jack.”

“And how do you think I’m feeling about all of it?” asked Jack with a chuckle. “I didn’t know any of this until Kat sat me down a few nights ago. Then of all people, I get to meet my own grandmother the next day. And find out that Vera is my long lost sister? Believe me, if anyone’s head is still spinning, it’s mine.”

Greg threw up his hands. “Even Vera! What are the odds that some girl we rescued back in Sorella is your sister?”

“Kat seems to think the fates guided us to each other. A meeting that was supposed to happen,” said Jack with a shrug. “Just as it was foretold that I would free the slaves back in Andalucia.”

Greg gave him a confused look. “I thought you hated everything to do with prophecy, Jack? But now you seem so accepting of it? Why is that?”

Jack had to think about that one long before he answered. Greg had a point. The whole thing still made his skin crawl. It wasn’t that he’d decided to accept everything that the prophecy had written about him, because to do so would mean that he gave up his free will—something that he could never do.

However, he couldn’t deny the existence of all of these “coincidences” that had the bad habit of proving the lines of prophecy true. Even though parts of him thought the written lines were so vague that they could be applied to just about any event and still loosely fit.

It was a gray area for him and one where he couldn’t decide if he believed it or not. At this point, he was just along for the ride until something else happened.

Jack finally shrugged. “I’m not sure if I can explain where my head is at right now. Part of me wants to just go back to where I was last week, just a regular Javan naval officer on a mission. The other part of me feels some sort of belonging or purpose to what’s been revealed. It’s an innate curiosity that keeps burning inside, and it makes me want to continue down this hole until I find the bottom of it. I don’t know what to believe, Greg. But so far, the evidence of this has been a little overwhelming.”

Greg pursed his lips. “Well, since you mentioned it, I’m dying to see this sword in action.”

Jack chuckled. “It’s right over there.” Not far from his desk laid the rectangular box that contained the sword of the Galician king. Jack hadn’t removed it since they left the house, feeling content just to keep it locked away. Putting it on would be tantamount to accepting all the prophecy meant.

He just wasn’t ready to do that quite yet.

Greg walked over to the box and opened the lid gently. As soon as he looked at the sword, he let out a low whistle. “It’s a beauty, all right. It’s been well-taken care of throughout the years. It still has that new shine to it.”

“Speaking of shine, watch this,” said Jack as he got up from his chair. He approached the box and picked up the scabbard with the sword still inside. The weight of it was considerable at first, but once Jack’s hand wrapped around the grip, he pulled it free in a quick motion, swishing it through the air.

Greg took a step back. “Whoa, easy with that thing. It certainly looks heavy though.”

Jack nodded. “It looks heavy once you see it, but once you pull out the sword, it almost feels weightless. I can’t exactly explain it but it feels so light in my own hands. Not to mention this right here.” Jack pointed to the pommel, which had begun to glow with the same blue light he’d seen back at the house. The explosion of light was near instantaneous as soon as his hand touched the grip, and the light flickered brighter the longer he touched it.

“Would you look at that?” whispered Greg as he leaned in closer to the sword. “How is that possible?”

Jack shrugged. “I have no idea. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“It’s flickering, Jack. It’s like the sword is ... happy.”

“Do swords get happy?”

Greg laughed. “It looks like yours does!”

Jack looked at the light again. Every time his eyes locked on it, it seemed to pulse with greater hue than before. It was like the sword knew when it had his attention and was pleased to receive it.

“Does that happen when anyone touches it?” asked Greg.

“I have no idea. No one else touched it besides me,” said Jack, as he offered it over to Greg. “Go on, see what happens.”

Jack had no sooner handed off the sword to Greg when something remarkable happened. The expression on Greg’s face changed from curiosity to extreme exertion as his fingers wrapped around the grip. Jack had to jump back quickly as the sword slipped out of Greg’s hands, crashing against the floor with a loud racket.

Greg’s mouth fell open as he looked to Jack and then back at the sword. “How much does that damn thing weigh, Jack?”

Jack gave him a confused look. “It’s not that much! Why’d you drop it?”

Greg leaned over to try and pick it up. “Because the bloody thing weighs a ton.” He wrapped his hand around the grip and pulled. Nothing happened, and the sword remained stationary on the floor. He used both hands, pressing up with his knees and still the sword didn’t budge. Notable as well was that the blue light from the pommel had ceased as soon as Jack let go of the sword. It remained lifeless even now as Greg tried to pry it from the ground.

Jack started to shake his head, wondering if Greg was pulling a joke. “Let me do it,” he said while he bent to pick up the sword. The blue light returned instantly as soon as his hand was around the grip, and he pulled it up as if it were no heavier than a feather.

The color drained from Greg’s face. “How did you do that?”

Jack shrugged. “I just picked it up.”

Greg started to look around and then pointed to Jack’s desk. “Put it down on the desk. I want to try that again.”

Jack placed the sword across the desk as the blue light vanished once more. Greg tried with all his might to pick the sword up, however it was only when he put his feet into the movement that Jack saw the sword budge a tiny bit. And by a tiny bit, it was less than an inch.

Finally, Greg gave up, wiping away some sweat that appeared on his forehead. “Jack, that’s something else. I can’t even get the thing to move let alone pick it up.”

Jack picked it up effortlessly again, watching the flickering blue light on the pommel. “That doesn’t seem right. Kat was able to hold it when it was brought to me. But then again, she just had it in the box. She didn’t actually touch the sword.”

Greg snapped his fingers. “Maybe that’s the secret? Maybe it will only let you touch it? To anyone else, it might just be dead weight.” Greg touched the grip again, watching as the blue light dimmed severely before going out completely. “The light only responds to you. Even with my hand on it, look at the reaction.”

Jack looked at the sword with marvel in his eyes. “It’s almost like the thing is alive. Greg. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Greg started to nod. “That’s something else, Jack. I don’t have an explanation for how that works, but it certainly gives a little weight to the story. Even as hard as it is for me to accept it.”

“See why my head has been spinning for the last few days?” asked Jack with a smirk. “I just don’t know what to make of all this.”

“It does bring up a good question, though, Jack,” said Greg after he turned his attention away from the sword. “What the hell are you going to tell them back home? Bancroft and the rest of the Admiralty? Hell, what about the emperor?”

Jack gulped. “That thought had occurred to me. The short answer is I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what you’ll say or if you’ll say anything?”

“Both,” Jack admitted.

“I don’t think you can keep something like this under the rug, Jack. If everything here is true, you’re now the legitimate king of a foreign country. Not to say that you aren’t with Andalucia, but I think the situation there is different. You only found yourself king there by accident.”

Jack chuckled. “And I didn’t with Galicia too?”

“True, but we fought a war with Andalucia,” said Greg before thinking the idea over some more. “I mean, let’s just say both of those might be problematic for you.”

“Why does it have to be though, Greg? If this is all true, it doesn’t mean I’ve stopped being Javan. I’ve spent all my life in Java, grew up there, was trained there, everything. Does it really mean I can’t be Javan anymore?”

“I happen to agree with you, Jack. I’m just saying that Bancroft or the emperor may not see it the same way. They might think you’re compromised now.”

Jack took a deep breath. “I didn’t choose this path.”

“I understand that,” said Greg. “Even if it chose you, it might put a target on your back. They may not like having one of their officers owing allegiance to another country.”

Jack looked at his friend. “Do you think I’m compromised?”

Greg gave him an inquisitive look. “No, but then again, I know you, Jack. I know you’d put your life on the line for any member of this task force. You’ve done so already. You’ve led us in battle after battle, country through country, and you haven’t given in. My question is does Bancroft know that? Does the emperor?”

Jack pondered that question over for several moments before replying. Greg’s logic was solid, and truthfully, it had been a point of question ever since he took over the throne of Andalucia. At what point was he to consider himself more Javan than Galician, or Andalucian for that matter? His men would always be Javan, no matter how much blood they shed to free Andalucia. Yet Jack would always have that grain of doubt.

The doubt that questioned his real identity. Was he Javan or Galician?

“I’m sorry, Jack. I didn’t mean to get so heavy on you just now,” said Greg after a few moments. “I know this can’t be an easy time, so just ignore all my pessimism, okay?”

Jack shook his head. “I don’t think it’s pessimistic though, Greg. I think you bring up some good points. I think we should be careful with this information for right now, especially around the crew. I don’t intend on letting the word about Galicia get out to them right now. They already know about Andalucia and that could be damning enough for me. I think we should just keep this news between us.”

“Does anyone else know besides me, you, Kat, Abigail, and Vera?” he asked.

“That’s all of it. Just the five of us,” said Jack.

Greg nodded. “It shouldn’t be too hard to keep under wraps then. You know I won’t say anything to anyone. You know that kind of thing spreads like fire with pillow talk. And I don’t think you’d have to worry about anything between Kat and Abigail, and I don’t even have my pillow talk buddy anymore to worry about either.”

Jack frowned. “How are you holding up? Doing any better?”

Greg pursed his lips. “I’m all right. Still stings a little.”

“It’ll get better with time.”

“At least I don’t have to see her often,” said Greg. “I can keep myself quarantined down in the barracks and stay far away from Brittany.”

Jack chuckled. “Some fresh air will do you good every once in a while though. Besides, we are getting pretty close to the capital of Picardy. I heard we should reach the city, Daban, tomorrow.”

Greg smirked. “Want to take bets if anyone wants to shoot at us in this new country?”

Jack laughed. “That hasn’t been a good bet to take with our luck.”

“True,” said Greg with a nod. “Speaking of shooting, you want to get some practice in? I’ve got some more down time.”

Jack looked at his watch. He didn’t have to be anywhere for another hour, and he wouldn’t mind the time spent sharpening his shooting skills. “Yeah, let’s do it,” he said finally.

About twenty minutes later, both men found themselves prone on the deck of the Destiny as they fired at the target that bobbed in the water behind the ship. Today, the Destiny was bringing up the rear of the squadron while the Valiant took the lead in front, and the Horton and Stardust came directly behind it. The Destiny was just behind the other two cruisers, while their escort of destroyers flanked them to their port side and to their front. All the way to their starboard side was Picardy, it’s dark green shoreline vaguely visible from this range.

They’d been following it since they left Kat’s house, moving up the coast until it opened into a large bay that contained the capital of Daban. It was the first time they were sailing to a specific city with an actual map, and Jack relished the opportunity it afforded him. They’d seen enough of the Vector with their own eyes, and now that they had a map, he didn’t want to sail anywhere blind again.

It was only after they were done shooting that they saw the first foreign ship, what looked to be a large shipping vessel similar in appearance to the old Swordfish. It passed by in the distance off to their port side, but it was far from the last.

Instead, it was almost like a parade of ships had started as the task force slipped by. All of them of different varieties, like great big wooden trading ships even to some small metal ones. Jack even saw what looked like a warship, albeit a small one, passing by as well. From this distance, he could only use his binoculars to check it out, but the increase in traffic was very noticeable.

“We must be getting closer,” said Jack. “Daban must be nearby with this much traffic coming out.”

“It’s heavy traffic too, Jack,” said Greg. “I didn’t expect there to be so many ships.”

“It must be a good-sized city for this many ships. It’s almost like they just don’t end.”

Greg squinted off toward the nearest ship and then back to Jack. “Is it just me, or does it look like many of them aren’t moving?”

Jack pursed his lips and then looked back through his binoculars to the closest ship. He looked directly behind it, trying to find the wake of the vessel to get some indication of its current speed. Oddly enough, he didn’t see much of a wake.

“That’s strange. That one is definitely not moving. Or at least, not moving with much speed,” he said out loud, before moving to the next ship. The next one didn’t appear to be moving either. Neither were the other three they saw.

“Why the hell would all of them be out here without a course?” asked Greg with a confused expression.

“Especially this close to Daban,” added Jack. “That’s a little troubling. Why wouldn’t they go into port?”

“Unless there was some reason they were staying away from it,” said Greg ominously. “What if they are staying away on purpose?”

Jack turned to look at Greg. “Evelyn did say she thought something was going on in Picardy. Maybe she was right.”

“Here we go again,” muttered Greg. “Back into action.”

It wasn’t quite as bad as Greg made it out to sound, but as they neared the capital city, they came upon more and more ships anchored in the waters outside. It became especially apparent once they entered the narrow bay that marked the course to the city. Everywhere Jack looked, he could see ships at anchor, none of them looking like they knew where to go or what to do. It was more troubling as they got closer, and Jack couldn’t help the bad feeling it gave him at arriving in the country.

As they entered the narrow bay, Jack could get a view of the surrounding countryside on both sides. Since the bay was only about ten miles wide even at its narrowest, Jack could get his first close up glimpses of land. Needless to say, the ships weren’t the only things that gave off a bad feeling about Picardy.

There was an overwhelming lack of people, and it wasn’t just because they were far enough out that they couldn’t see them. Even the communities that looked to be close to the water were nothing more than huddled buildings, seemingly abandoned of any humanity to inhabit them. There were no children playing near the water nor any workers going about their daily jobs.

It was almost like all the people in Picardy had just disappeared, something that gave Jack an unsettling feeling the further they got into the bay.

“I hope Heron was right about us coming here next,” said Greg quietly from his side.

Jack nodded silently. What kind of country did we just arrive in?

It was only the following day when Jack noticed that the signs of civilization were getting more frequent as they approached the Picard city. He could see more dwellings and buildings lining the shores, and even small docks jutting into the water. Still, similar to yesterday, there were hardly any people, although Jack could see some of them going about their day. The closer they got to it, the more it seemed like most of the population had simply vanished.

One thing that Jack found the most inspiring was the state of the architecture. His previous stops in Andalucia and Sorella in particular had shown him a level of technological advancement that was severely lacking when compared to Java. However, the Swabians had shown they were not far behind, and it seemed the Picards were on a similar level. Most of the buildings he saw were made of bricks, and large rowed brick houses made up several streets by the shores of the city. The roads seemed to have been done in mixes of pavement and cement as well, and when Kat pointed out a Picard warship, Jack was surprised by how modern it looked compared to others he’d seen since arriving in the Vector.

“You’ll find most of the leading nations of the Vector have the same level of technology,” said Kat as they watched the warship. “Galicia, Swabia, Picardy, Carinthia, Apulia, and Samara are all about on the same level. There’s some minor differences between them but the part of the world we were just in was much more primitive.”

“I don’t know whether to be happy about that or not,” said Jack. “Happy to find more advanced peoples, but I surely hope they don’t look at us as potential enemies. It was a lot easier to fight arrows and wooden ships.”

Kat smiled. “We’ll just have to keep them all on our side then.”

Jack chuckled at her words, even if he still felt an ominous feeling about the country around him. Even the skies above didn’t want to cooperate, a dark, gloomy overcast surrounding the city despite the fact that it was midmorning. When it combined with all the other factors, Jack had to wonder what kind of reception they might get here.

In addition, the factor with the shipping going into the city didn’t seem any different from yesterday. Very few vessels could be seen coming from the city’s harbor, a deep natural port that was surrounded on just about every side but one by land. A long jetty signaled the entrance to the harbor, and that’s when Jack noticed something curious about it.

“Is the harbor blocked off?” he asked quietly, as he looked over in his binoculars. Sure enough, there was a large chain pulled across the only entrance, preventing any access to or from the port.

“Why would they want their main harbor blocked off?” asked Abigail, sitting next to him at the command station.

“I’ve never heard of the Picards doing this before,” added Kat. “This doesn’t look like a good sign.”

“See that ship there?” asked Jack, pointing to another near the mouth. “It looks to be guarding the entrance. Although, I don’t know what there is to guard. No one is stupid enough to try to force their way past those chains.”

“Maybe they might be able to give us more information,” said Kat. “At least let us know what’s going.”

“If so, then I have a lot of questions for them. If the harbor is blocked off, it would explain all the stranded shipping here. If they can’t get in to refuel or sell their wares, they might not have any other options.”

“I’m sure we can get to the bottom of this though, Jack,” said Kat.

Jack stood up and made for the exit of the bridge. “Come on, let’s get in a launch boat and see what we can find out.”

A short time later, Jack, Kat, Greg, and a small fireteam of marines got into one of the Destiny‘s launch boats and started their course toward the entrance to the harbor. It didn’t look like they were the only ones inquiring about the blocked-off port, and Jack watched as the main patrolling ship stopped to direct other small ships who were also inquiring about the harbor. Jack didn’t think it was a good sign that no one was getting past the entrance, not even those that were flying the Picard flag.

Almost as soon as the launch boat was close enough, they were flagged down by a Picard official standing near the stern. It was little more than a patrol boat, and Jack could see one basic machine gun near the aft of the ship, but that was it. Besides the official, there looked to be only one other Picard steering the boat.

“Hold there please,” said the Picard man with a raised hand. “What’s your business in Daban?”

Jack carefully appraised the man before responding. He had very light features, almost pale skin that was heavily-dotted with freckles across the face. His hair was auburn in color, and the uniform he wore was dark blue from neck to boot. He was built up across the chest and arms, only tapering down to a more narrow waist and legs. Most curious about him was the covering on his face. He had a piece of cloth covering his mouth and nose, almost similar to those worn by doctors back in Java. Jack could only wonder what that might be about. The look on the rest of his face was one of someone not to be crossed, and Jack got a feeling for the severity of the situation just from his initial tone.

“We’re here to see the king,” said Jack calmly. “King Aedan. We’ve traveled from Sorella on our way to see him.”

“And yet, you don’t look like you’re Sorellan,” said the official. “None of you do. It rather looks like a handful of Galicians and you,” he said pointing to Greg, “you almost look Carinthian. Those especially don’t look like Sorellan ships.” The official pointed out to the task force further out in the bay.

“He’s Javan,” said Jack. “As am I. We’re friends of Heron of Sorella, and we’re here to seek Aedan’s aid.”

The official scoffed. “No one is getting in to see the king right now. Or the city for that matter. You can try again in seven days time, but no sooner.”

Jack shared a look at Kat. “That would explain the ships stranded outside in the bay,” he muttered quietly for only her ears. Kat only nodded before turning her attention back to the official.

“May we ask, why is the harbor closed off? Is Picardy at war?”

The official shook his head. “No war, at least not yet. There’s been an outbreak of plague though. We’ve closed the city for everyone’s safety. We’ve asked all people in Picardy to remain indoors as a way of preventing the spread of the plague.”

Jack gave him an alarmed look. That certainly explained the mask around his face. “How long has the plague been active here?”

The official locked eyes with him. “Long enough. Enough to take a good percentage of the city with it so far. The last thing we want is for it to spread, so for that reason, Daban is inaccessible by road or by sea. For your safety,” he emphasized at the end.

“I can assure you that my people and I don’t have the plague,” said Jack. “But it is critical that we speak with your king as soon as possible. I can’t delay this another week.”

The official scoffed again. “I highly doubt he has any business with a Jaban or whatever the hell you are.”

Kat pulled Jack closer and whispered into his ear. “Perhaps you might gain more respect from this man with your official title.”

Jack pursed his lips, thinking the request over. He then turned back to the Picard. “This may seem hard to believe, but I’m the King of Andalucia. As another king, it’s important that I discuss affairs of state with Aedan.”

Jack knew how badly that sounded coming out of his mouth. It sounded better in his head, but one look at Kat and he noticed how she wanted him to use his other title. Yet, he didn’t want to drop the Galician title just yet, remembering his earlier conversation with Greg.

Unfortunately, the Picard started to laugh. “Next you’ll tell me you’re the Galician king reborn, won’t you?”

“Funny you say that,” said Jack under his breath.

“It’s no matter. No one gets in the city or out. Not even kings,” added the official. “You can try again in seven days. If you need to dock your ships, you can use those wharves over there.” The official pointed to what looked like a smaller set of commercial docks just on the other side of the enclosed harbor.

Jack found himself getting angry. Not just at the official, but at the situation in general. It had taken them this long to get to Picardy and now they were being denied entrance? He could understand the outbreak of plague and their wanting to be careful but it just seemed like bad timing, not helped by the haughty attitude of the official.

Part of him wondered if they waited too long to get here. The other part questioned what might happen if they didn’t get in at all?

“You have no idea how important it is that I see him,” said Jack through clenched teeth. “This delay is going to put lives in danger.”

The official placed his hand on his hip, where a holstered pistol lay attached. The message was clear. “I said move along,” said the Picard.

Jack opened his mouth to continue fighting, but Kat placed her hand on his arm. “It’s fine,” she whispered quietly. “He’s clearly under orders not to allow anyone in, so there’s no sense in picking a fight just now.”

Jack met her eyes and nodded, albeit reluctantly. It was clear this was one battle they wouldn’t win, especially not without starting a war with a people they hoped to ally with. Jack turned his attention back to the wharves that the official had just pointed out.

“Fine, I’ll take my flagship to dock over there,” he said, pointing back to the Destiny. “The rest of my task force will stay in the bay for now.”

The official collected some more details from him before the boat soon pushed away to attend to someone else. As soon as he left, Jack took in the multiple chains that blocked off the entrance to the harbor from all ships. It was now clear he’d have to find another way into the city.

Perhaps even by subterfuge.

As the launch boat started on the return trip back to the Destiny, Jack found himself looking back out at the now forbidden city. An outbreak of plague made sense. It explained why he could barely see any people on the journey toward the city and why all those ships seemed to be stranded on the approach to the bay.

It also didn’t make things any easier. Time was of the essence for him now. He had the feeling the Swabians wouldn’t sit back and permit one of their regiments being destroyed and another country being ripped from their grasp. All too soon, they would look to retaliate, and make him suffer for all that he’d done to them. That’s why it was all the more important that he kept creating alliances in the Vector. The more people that could stand up to the Swabians, the better.

But how was he supposed to do that when one of their most populous potential allies was completely stricken by the plague?

It was the sole question on his mind as they got back to the Destiny. Once they were back, Jack left the rest of the task force out in the bay while the Destiny was guided into a spot at the nearby wharves that was pointed out to them by the Picard official. This set of wharves had all the trappings of an old commercial sector of the city, and judging by their age, Jack suspected it was one of the main docks before the grand harbor was constructed to take over the job.

It also seemed to have a variety of foreign ships to look at as well. Jack took careful note of it from the bridge of the Destiny, alongside Abigail and Kat. They were only recognized as foreign by the aid of Kat, who helped to point out their flags.

“That one belongs to the Samaran Confederacy,” she said, pointing out one with blue and orange stripes. “That little fishing boat belongs to Cervanos,” she said, gesturing to a smaller trawler. “Which is odd, because they normally don’t get too far out.”

“Any Galician ships here?” asked Jack. “I figured I’d ask because I have no idea what their flags look like.”