Chapter 29: The Exchange

The conditions in the dungeon at the bottom of the Swabian imperial palace were only slightly better than those in Naxos. There didn’t seem to be any rats in Jack’s current location which was an added bonus. It was still dark and damp, but the meals were more frequent.

Jack had now been in Swabia for three days. At least, he thought it might be three days. It was hard to tell the time of day this far underground but he’d been served six meals since he arrived. At roughly two per day, that meant he’d been in Swabia for just about half a week.

So far, his only interaction with the new emperor was limited to Jack’s arrival in the city. Avila didn’t do anything other than to instruct the guards on where to put Jack. He arrived in the dungeons just five minutes later. Since then, he’d had no visitors, but the guard that stood watch outside his cell kept his eyes trained on Jack at all times.

That practically ruled out any kind of escape. Not unless Jack could somehow incapacitate him first.

With that being unlikely, Jack retreated inside his mind to pass the time. He thought about his mission and what he would do if he ever made it out of Swabia. He thought about his friends like Greg, Luke, and Dustin, and he hoped they were all well. He thought about his sisters, both Jocelyn and Vera, and he hoped he would still get the chance to see them again.

Most importantly, he thought about Kat and Abigail. It was almost three weeks since his capture in Daban, which meant Kat would be about five months pregnant now. He wondered how the baby was and how big he/she was getting. Jack was thankful for one thing though. At least if he died here in Swabia, the Galician line wouldn’t end with him. The new heir was currently sitting under Kat’s heart, and the line would continue even if he didn’t.

It was a way of thinking that always troubled him because it meant facing his own mortality. Especially since he thought he wouldn’t be facing it so soon.

Maybe this is what the prophecy meant, he thought that morning. Maybe this is where I die. Maybe my death is what needs to happen.

Getting lost in his own thoughts was unavoidable in the timeless dungeon but at least there might be something different to expect today like a possible special occasion. Jack was actually sprayed down with a hose to get rid of the smell and he was given clean linens. He figured the moment had come for him to be executed but the guard let him know it wasn’t his time just yet.

“The emperor wants to see you,” said the guard brusquely as he dropped the clothing on the floor. “Put these on and be ready in five minutes.”

The linens were cheap but at least they didn’t smell like shit. No sooner had Jack put on the gray clothing than the guard unlocked the iron bars and led him out. He was brought up two stories until the dungeon melted away, and it was there that they were met by one of Avila’s servants.

Once they were out of the dungeon, the opulence increased dramatically. The palace reminded Jack of the one in Java. Everywhere he looked, the common factor was gold. The draperies were inlaid with gold. Speckles of it were included in the tile beneath his feet. It was even part of the furniture.

Jack was led up a grand staircase until he came to the third floor of the palace. It was clear that the whole city could be viewed from this height, and more than once, Jack saw balconies that offered such a view as they continued to walk.

Finally, they were brought to what could only be described as a study. There were several comfortable couches and many bookshelves with ancient texts. The door to the main balcony was open and a cool breeze came in off the city. For Jack, it was a needed relief. The fresh air of the city was incredibly welcome after suffering the stale dank air of the dungeons.

In the center of the room was a massive desk. Behind it sat the new Swabian emperor.

Regaulfus Avila wasn’t exactly what Jack had expected from all that he’d heard of the man. He expected someone that was much more ... sinister. In that degree, Avila fell well short. He was older than Jack, perhaps about ten to fifteen years at most. He had dark features but his hair was graying in the temple and the beard. He had a slight paunch over his chin and under his robes. For someone who was now one of the most dangerous men in the world, it was a rather unassuming sight.

“Well, if it isn’t my foreign interloper friend,” said Avila as he put down a pen and watched Jack enter the room. Jack had been shackled prior to entering the emperor’s study as a precaution but he stood before the man with a raised chin and an air of defiance.

“I trust you’re finding your accommodations to be suitable, no?” asked Avila with a thin smile.

Jack glared back at the man. “I don’t think anything compares to that prison in Naxos.”

Avila nodded. “Yes, Naxos is rather ... primitive, wouldn’t you say? I’m sure we have kinder accommodations for our guests than what you’d find in that shithole.”

“It’s only a shithole because of what you’ve done with it,” said Jack. “Your men destroyed what Naxos used to be. If anyone’s to blame for her plight, it’s you.”

Avila smirked. “I’m told you shared a cell with the former king while you were in Naxos. I can see he’s told you the full story.”

“As if I needed it,” Jack shot back. “Everywhere I go, it’s the same story. Ever since I arrived in this part of the world, the only constant has been Swabian aggression.”

“Come now, Jack, I didn’t bring you up here for a heated argument,” said Avila as he raised his hands. “Can’t we speak like the civilized men we are?”

“I’m surprised you even know the meaning of that world,” said Jack. “Your actions seem to suggest otherwise.”

“My actions have led me to this very spot,” said the emperor, tapping on the desk for emphasis. “I sit on the throne of the most powerful empire in the West.”

“You’ll understand if I don’t rush to congratulate you,” said Jack.

“You have some mouth on you,” said Avila with another smirk. “I thought you would be more understanding about the politics of military might, especially given the fact that your force has gone from one engagement with my forces to another. You understand force, don’t you, Jack? So why are my actions so difficult for you to comprehend?”

“That’s the key difference between you and me,” said Jack. “My forces have been acting as a counter to yours. Everywhere that you act with aggression against the local populace, my forces have been there to stop it. I’m trying to maintain the balance here. You’re trying to disrupt it.”

“Balance,” repeated Avila with a heavy scoff. “Only an ignorant man would call the political situation in the West balanced. What balance is it to have an invigorated and strong people constrained to the lands of their birth? Why should they not expand when they need more room? Why should the strong not force subservience on the weak? What kind of balance is that truly, Jack?”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand such ideals,” replied Jack quietly. “Or to understand why each nationality deserves their own freedom. A homeland of their own, free of foreign oppression.”

“But what about Swabian freedom? Do your ideals not stretch to my land?”

Jack shook his head. “It already does. Swabian is ruled by the Swabians. Why do you need more land?”

“Because Swabia is growing! Swabia needs land for her people,” argued Avila.

“So much land that you need Sorella, Andalucia, and Picardy?”

Avila shrugged. “We are a large people and a large country already. It’s only natural that our expansion occurs outside our borders.”

“That’s funny,” said Jack. “Because when I arrived in Dagobern, I saw a lush countryside just beyond the city’s limits. If you have such space outside your biggest city, you can’t tell me you don’t have room on your other islands. Don’t disguise your naked aggression as a virtuous need for more space. You have all the space you need in Swabia. This is a power grab, nothing more.”

Avila regarded him for several moments without responding. His expression darkened. Jack felt a temporary exultation at having won a small battle but he knew it wouldn’t last.

“It would seem we’ll never see eye to eye on this matter,” said Avila moments later. “It isn’t of any consequence though. In a few days, we’ll have my official coronation as the new emperor. During that time, you will be executed for all the headaches you’ve caused me.”

“In that case, I’ll die knowing I did everything I could to stand between you and the free peoples of the West,” said Jack with a stiff upper lip. “At least my forces were able to cast you out of Andalucia and Sorella, and soon to be Picardy.”

“Cast out for now maybe,” conceded Avila. “But my forces will return. You’ve only managed to buy them some time. I do have to wonder what you did to destroy my firm grasp on both of those countries though. How did you do it, Jack?”

Jack shrugged. “It wasn’t hard to throw out your soldiers or to defeat them in battle. Most Swabians that I’ve come across lack the kind of imagination that leads to good soldiering. Each time, we’ve been able to outwit them and I have no doubt that this trend will continue.”

It looked like Jack hit a nerve. Avila’s nostrils flared as he processed that statement. Just when Jack thought that anger might boil over, the emperor’s expression changed.

“A pity then that you won’t be around to see it,” quipped Avila.

“I’ve gotten out of worse situations before.”

“I’d like to see you do that here of all places,” said Avila. “You’re in the middle of Swabia, Jack. Our lands extend for hundreds of miles in every direction. No, you’ll never leave this city again. Especially not with those curious Galician features of yours.”

Jack didn’t respond as the emperor seemed to really take in his appearance for the first time. Avila’s eyes roamed over Jack’s hair and face until they finally settled on his eyes again. “Very curious about your appearance. And here I thought the only Galician in your force was the deposed regent. But it appears that you have Galician ancestry as well.”

Jack continued to remain quiet, not giving any response to the emperor’s suspicions.

“I think Eric Rosdahl is going to find your appearance very interesting as well,” continued Avila. “Just wait until he gets his eyes on you.”

“Like you said, I don’t think I’ll be going to Galicia anytime soon,” said Jack quietly.

“No, but Galicia will be coming to you,” said Avila. “He’ll be landing in Dagobern tomorrow in order to attend my coronation. We’ll just have to see what he thinks about your features then. I’m sure he’ll find them very ... curious.”

“Lucky for me then,” retorted Jack. “I’ve always wanted to meet that poor excuse for a regent. It would seem this stop in Swabia might bear fruit for me yet.”

Avila chuckled. “You’ll get your chance, I assure you. Such strong words though. I take it it’s because he tried to kill your Galician bitch?”

Jack bit his tongue to stop from lashing out. It was all the signal that Avila needed to know he hit the target.

“Ah, so it is,” he said with a cruel smile. “Too bad she’s not here or we could make it a truly family affair. I would enjoy watching the both of you be garroted so very much. Then I know that your meddling is truly at an end.”

“Guess you’ll just have to settle for me in the interim.”

“For now, Jack, for now,” said Avila. “But her time is just as limited as yours. This time, there will be nothing to stop the Swabian ascendancy. Not even Galicia herself could stand in her way.”

The emperor stood up from his desk and approached the balcony. He looked out over all of Dagobern. “One day, Swabia will stretch over all the lands of the West. We will take every landmass. From the subhumans in Lishkerra all the way to the frozen north of Frisia. We will be an empire in the same vein as where you’re from, Jack.”

Avila turned to face him. “That’s right. I know about Java, Occitania, and Ruthenia. Each empires in their own right. I also know how your people refer to them as the different vectors of the world. And that you call our land the Fourth Vector. I will unite all the lands of the Fourth Vector under one banner and then we shall truly see who wields the strongest forces in the world.”

“You’re completely mad,” said Jack. “I would pity you if I thought you still felt anything at all. But all you know is power.”

“All there is to know is power,” said Avila quietly. “Those that think otherwise are woefully naive. I was once like you, Jack—young, inexperienced, idealistic. All qualities that aren’t valued in Swabia. My father beat them out of me until I was man enough to know how the world worked. It was a lesson I repaid him in kind when I took his lordship the day after I turned thirty. His death by my hands was the final lesson I needed.”

“And you call yourselves civilized,” said Jack with a subtle shake of the head.

Avila ignored it and continued. “You’ll understand when you see the coronation. I’ve reached the pinnacle of Swabian power, something I’ve dreamed about since I was old enough to know what it meant. I don’t intend to be a placeholder emperor like that fool, Aurelius. Swabia will expand, Jack, and woe to anyone who stands in her way.”

Avila fixed him with a steely gaze. “Especially you, Jack.”

Before Jack could respond, Avila nodded to his guard. “Put him back in the dungeon.”

Eric Rosdahl didn’t like being at sea.

While most of his countrymen were as much at home on the open ocean as they were on land, the gentle swaying of the boat always made him uneasy. It also wreaked havoc on his stomach. For that reason, he stayed inside his personal quarters as much as possible, allowing him to temporarily forget he wasn’t on dry land.

Every time he actually went above deck though, he felt that familiar internal churning and now was no different. His first sight of the Swabian capital city occurred as he was wiping the vomit from his chin. That was probably for the best. In terms of sheer aesthetics, Dagobern had absolutely nothing on the beauty of Kalmar, the Galician capital city.

It was a dull city. If Eric could describe it with one word, the word would be gray. Everything just seemed so dreary, especially for a city that just celebrated the arrival of a new emperor. How there was supposed to be a coronation here was beyond him, but Eric was thinking of other matters when the Galician warship docked.

Mostly, it was that he was the first Galician head of state to step foot in Dagobern in over five hundred years. That had been at the end of the Siege of Dagobern during the Fourth Swabian War, when the combined coalition of Galicia, Apulia, Picardy, and Carinthia finally ended Swabian aggression for centuries.

It was a different time back then. And here he was now as a witness to the coronation of a new emperor. Not just as a fellow head of state but as an ally.

Of course, just because Eric was on friendly terms with the emperor didn’t mean that the average Swabian didn’t look upon this Galician entourage with thinly-veiled disgust. His guards had to break up several potential scuffles along the way to the imperial palace, a stark reminder of all those millennia of hatred between the two sides.

Not any longer, thought Eric. For the first time ever, Galicia and Swabia will be friends moving forward.

He had to admit that it was a queer feeling on his behalf. That wasn’t mentioning that it flew in the face of every geopolitical lesson he’d ever received as a boy.

But his visit wasn’t about renewing old enmities.

It was about looking to the future. It was about security for Galicia. As long as the Swabians were happy, Eric could be left on the sidelines, which was all he really wanted.

He wanted to hunt and fuck his concubines in peace.

As his convoy reached the imperial palace, Eric was pleased to see that the emperor himself had come out of the residence to greet his arrival. It was his second time meeting Regaulfus Avila—the first time having occurred three years ago when Eric was new to regency. That initial tepid meeting sparked the partnership that had made this all possible.

And it would fuel the remade world that was to come.

“My Lord Regent, Eric Rosdahl. Welcome to Dagobern,” greeted Avila with a warm smile and a simple handshake.

“A congratulations are in order then,” said Eric, returning the handshake. “How pleased I am to have this meeting in Dagobern and not Cormfeld any longer.”

Avila grinned. “Time has been my ally lately. How was your trip across the sea?”

“Uneventful, the best kind of trip if you ask me,” replied Eric before clutching his stomach. “Although, I much prefer that we’re now on land. I don’t think I could take being at sea for much longer.”

Avila chuckled. “A Galician who doesn’t like to be at sea? I’ve seen everything now!”

“Yes, well I can say for sure that I won’t be rushing to go back home.”

“Excellent. You and your men have our hospitality during your entire stay,” said Avila. “And I’m looking forward to you being at my coronation this week.”

“I’m very much looking forward to that as well,” said Eric. “It’s about time I see an old friend get what he so richly deserves.”

“Indeed,” said Avila before leaning in closer. “I also have a special prisoner that I think you will find very interesting. Our foreign interloper friend has run into a bit of bad luck lately.”

“What a pity for him! I know how long he’s been in a thorn in your paw,” said Eric. “You didn’t by chance catch my dear cousin while you were at it, did you?”

Avila shook his head. “Not yet, but we’ll get there. One way or another, these warmongers always get brought to justice.”

Eric smiled. “That’s what I’m hoping for at least.”

“Come inside, let my servants show you to your personal quarters!”

The Swabian imperial palace was quite different from the one that adorned Kalmar. Even though both centers of power sat on hills that dominated their respective cities, Eric found the Swabian palace quite garish. It was too ostentatious to be inviting and more than one dismayed look was shared between the Galicians in the entourage about their new lodging arrangements.

Eric was put into a suite on the second floor that had an impressive view of the city and the bay. Off in the distance, he could make out the Galician warship that had brought him here, now docked and looking much less imposing.

Eric had his servants set about unpacking his things while he took a cup of tea and settled on the balcony. He was looking forward to a good night’s sleep for the first time since they left Galicia, especially considering his bed wouldn’t be swaying from side to side. It was too early for bed but that didn’t mean he couldn’t sneak a nap into his routine before dinner. A nap would be a welcome distraction from the fluttering in his chest.

However, before he lay down for that nap, he already had a visitor.

“I’ve been in this city for all of an hour and already someone wants to see me,” he muttered as the door was answered.

“Your Highness, I have the Galician ambassador to Swabia at the door,” said Magnus, his personal body servant. “The man’s name is Oscar.”

Eric growled. “I know his name damnit. What does he want?”

“He says he has some urgent news for you. He requests to be allowed into your presence at once.”

“Urgent?” Eric made a scowl. “This better be good. Show him in.”

Magnus disappeared momentarily and returned with Oscar. Eric thought to chastise him right from the start but Oscar was pale and sweating before he’d even started talking. Something was clearly up with the man.

“Well? I don’t have all day so get on with it, man,” snapped Eric as he put his hand against his face. “What was so urgent that you had to meet with me the moment I arrived?”

“Your Highness, something’s not quite right,” said Oscar as his hand went to his heart. “Something is incredibly off. There’s this sensation in my chest that’s not going away.”

Eric eyed the man like he was crazy for several moments. The notion was bizarre that he would force an audience just to tell Eric that he had chest pain but Oscar was normally extremely level-headed. It was the reason why Eric selected him to the most stressful post of being the ambassador to Swabia.

Was the stress of the position finally too much for Oscar?

“It sounds like you may need some time off, Oscar,” said Eric dismissively before he pivoted toward the bedroom. “Perhaps when we go back to Galicia, you can secure another assignment.”

Oscar’s eyes widened. “You don’t understand. It’s in here! I can feel something that’s different!”

To everyone’s shock, Oscar ripped open his shirt to reveal his bare chest. His fingers pointed to the spot on his chest that bothered him, drawing the eyes of all of them.

Eric looked on with astonishment at the man and his crazed demeanor. Just as he thought that Oscar had lost his sanity, Magnus spoke up next.

“It’s right here, isn’t it?” asked the body servant, pointing to the same spot on his chest. “The feeling is right here by your heart?”

Oscar nodded quickly. “It’s so intense right now. It’s been like that for half a week now!”

“I feel it too,” admitted Magnus quietly. “I’ve felt it ever since we’ve gotten closer to the city.” The servant turned to look at Eric. “It’s unlike anything I’ve felt before.”

Eric grabbed at his own chest. Was that what that sensation was? That nagging and constantly growing feeling that had bothered him for several days? Eric assumed it was just the stress of going to Swabia but how the hell were they all feeling it at the same time?

Unless it meant that...

No, that couldn’t be it. Could it? It would mean that he’s really...

Eric grabbed Oscar’s shoulders and gently shook him. “When did the feeling arrive? When did you feel it?”

“It was just a few days ago. No more than a week!” said a frightened Oscar.

“When did the foreigner arrive?” demanded Eric. “What day was it? Was it the same time as the feeling in your chest?”

Oscar’s eyes rolled back in thought before he finally nodded. “They are roughly similar, yes! It was around the same time!”

Eric let go of the other man’s shoulders and put some space between them. He stepped backward as if the extra space would make the problem disappear.

So the rumors were true. Katherine really did find him. After all these years of searching, the heir to the Galician throne was here. And it was the same foreigner that had been causing all the issues in the West.

The sensation that they all felt was the bond—the ultimate link between the Galician king and his people.

“I want you to get word to the emperor,” instructed Eric as he addressed Oscar once more. “You are to mention nothing of the feeling in your chest anymore. You are to request that I be given access to the foreigner in his dungeon tonight. I want to look upon him with my own eyes. Do you understand?”

Oscar nodded.

“Go quickly! Now!”

The ambassador scampered away, leaving Eric alone with Magnus. The body servant shot a sideways look at Eric, who probably looked just as pale as Oscar did when he first arrived.

“Your Highness, what is going on?”

Eric turned around and faced the city. “He’s finally within my grasp. I need to look upon him with my own eyes.”

Jack first became aware that someone was entering the dungeon by the shuffling sounds of footsteps as the visitor padded along the stone floor. There was visible light as well, and the closer it got to Jack, the brighter it became. It finally got to the point where Jack had to shield his eyes when the visitor arrived.

The guard who usually maintained watch over Jack’s cell inserted the key into the lock and moved the iron bars, allowing the visitor to step inside. Once he was in, Jack could clearly see it was a man. And judging by his light colored features and blond hair, it wasn’t hard to guess who he was.

“You must be Eric Rosdahl,” said Jack as he caught sight of the hated regent.

Rosdahl looked him up and down like he was appraising a slab of beef. “And you can be none other than Jack Easterbrook, our busy little foreign interloper.”

Before the words were fully out, Rosdahl clutched at part of his chest. His eyes flashed back and forth from Jack to the ground as obvious disbelief filled his face. It was a look that Jack had seen before.

Rosdahl was feeling the bond.

“So it’s really true,” said Rosdahl quietly. “You’re really him. You’re the heir to the throne. You’re the Galician king.”

“I am,” said Jack proudly. “It’s my blood that used to rule Galicia. It was my family that tried so hard to stay alive, always on the run and hunted by yours so you could maintain your stranglehold on power in our homeland.”

“I must say that I never thought I’d see this day,” said Rosdahl as he examined Jack. “My uncle spent his entire life hunting your family. He nearly succeeded once.”

“Nearly,” said Jack. “But he ultimately fell short.”

“And yet here you are. So close enough to me that I can reach out to touch you myself,” muttered Rosdahl. “Don’t worry though. The Swabians don’t know who you are just yet. It’s best if it stays that way truthfully. But I know who you are. You can’t disguise the bond from me.”

“I keep hearing a lot about this bond lately,” said Jack.

“And you will the closer you get to actual Galicians,” interrupted Rosdahl. “For a long time, I just thought it might be a myth. But it has become undeniable. It pulses strongly now that I’m in your presence. I have to wonder though what will happen once you die without an heir? Will it disappear truly? I wonder, Jack.”

Jack regarded the man silently. Eric Rosdahl was exactly the kind of man he expected. He had a sniveling, weasel-like face. His nose was crooked and his eyes were almost too narrow for his face. He was a man utterly consumed with power, but even that couldn’t provide a proper explanation for his current whereabouts.

“I have to wonder what a Galician regent is doing in Swabia of all places,” said Jack. “It surprises me to find the leader of Galicia to be in the heartland of our ancient enemy.”

Rosdahl sneered. “I could ask you the same question. What is the Galician king doing in Dagobern? It would seem that there are two sides to this coin.”

Jack wiggled his arms, making the chains around his wrists rattle. “I’m not here on my own accord. You are. I was brought here against my will. You look like you just arrived here to enjoy some kind of party.”

“But of course,” said Rosdahl. “I’m here to celebrate my ally’s coronation as the next Swabian emperor.”

Jack shook his head. “Galicia and Swabia are not allies.”

“How small-minded you sound right now, Jack,” said Rosdahl with a subtle tsk-tsk. “I’m able to move beyond such ancient rivalries. Galicia and Swabia are natural partners and during my regency, I’ll make sure that both sides benefit from such a partnership.”

“You mean you’ll stick your head in the sand while the Swabians wage war against every other nation,” corrected Jack. “You’ll sit in your palace and ignore when the Swabians take down every one of your former allies like the Picards or the Carinthians.”

“The Picards and the Carinthians are not my allies, Jack. They are weak and they are disjointed. They serve no use to Galicia and so Galicia won’t interfere to save them either.”

“Don’t you understand what you’re doing?” asked Jack with an incredulous tone. “You think you’re safe now because there are other easier targets? But what happens once Picardy falls? Once Carinthia falls? When there is no one left to attack, the Swabians will turn on you. Your so-called ally will stab you in the back and you’ll have no one left to fight for you.”

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take, Jack,” said Rosdahl with an annoyed look. “The West is a big place. It will take them a long time before they get to the point they can think about conquering Galicia.”

“So you’ll sacrifice your children’s future just so you can live a life of ignorance today,” said Jack. “Your cousin was right about you. You are irredeemable.”

“Speaking of such, how is my dear cousin?” asked Eric. “It’s a shame she’s not here with you. I hope she thinks about coming home to Galicia very soon. I’d very much like to see her.”

“She’s biding her time until we can take back the rightful leadership of our country,” said Jack. “And she’s quite out of your reach.”

Rosdahl started to laugh. “I highly doubt that, Jack. I know how close my man came to killing her in Carinthia. That was just one hired assassin. Imagine what I could do with five or ten of them. She may get away from some of them but she’ll never get away from all of them.”

Jack shook his head. “She’s your own blood. How could you try to kill her? How could you betray her like you did? Was the regency really worth stabbing your own family in the back?”