Book 4: Chapter 71
Book 4: Chapter 71
“England is a country to the northwest,” the noble said. “It resides on a relatively small island, but they’re a force to be reckoned with. Especially their longbows. For the longest amount of time, they dominated with their longbows alone; however, times are changing with the rise of firearms. People have to train for years to master the longbow, but anyone can use a musket.”
Tafel stroked her chin. “And is it a land of dragons?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Perhaps the peasants wouldn’t know about dragons, but nobility definitely would.
The noble shook his head. “I don’t know any region in the world known for its dragons,” he said. “Perhaps the New World would have dragons, but information of what actually goes on there is kept in secret by the countries that have access to it.”
Tafel nodded. If Prika was in England, this small island, it shouldn’t take her very long to figure out there aren’t any dragons there, and she’d leave pretty quickly. Although finding Prika would make finding everyone else much easier since Prika could fly at high speeds, it wasn’t a guarantee to find her there. “Tell me more about this New World.”
“Like I said, there isn’t much—”
“I know about it,” another noble said, cutting his companion off. “May I speak?”
Tafel nodded.
The noble smiled at his scowling companion. “A very distant relative of mine works in France, serving close to the emperor. He’s told our family about the New World. It was discovered nearly thirty years ago. It all started with bland food. Speaking quite frankly, our food is quite tasteless; there’s no way to put it nicely. One day, spices were introduced to us from traders coming from India and China, and they made our food taste amazing. So, in a journey to find spices—oh, and maybe some gold—some people wished to discover different sea routes to China and India.” The noble stroked his beard. “There was one man, Christopher Columbus, who was…, well, not the brightest man but terribly lucky. He thought the world was smaller than it actually is and planned on sailing around the whole world. If it weren’t for the New World being in his way, he would’ve died on the ocean.” The noble cleared his throat. “Anyway, I digress. The New World is filled with gold and riches and indigenous populations. Not much is known about it since the majority of it hasn’t been explored, but we do know the people there are quite barbaric. They eat each other and perform cruel rituals that involve ripping out captives’ hearts.” The noble’s eyes narrowed. “And quite recently, the Emperor Charles V suffered a setback in the New World when the majority of his men died, slain by the indigenous population’s god. In the journal that was sent back, the god was described as a dragon. As for the color, my distant relative didn’t say.”
Tafel furrowed her brow and lowered her head, staring at the ground. After a moment of contemplation, she raised her head and pointed at the noble. “You’re promoted. Alright,” she said and nodded. “When the Ottomans arrive on the borders of our land, I want you to let me know. Also, start preparing boats. Once I fetch my companion from the Ottomans, we’re going to head to the New World. For now, help me send a letter to Henry Tudor. I want to see that red dragon of his. According to one of you, it should take the Ottomans several months to finish sieging Rhodes before they continue up here. That leaves all of you with a few months to get everything ready for a voyage to the New World, and it leaves me enough time to pay a visit to England.” She swept her gaze over all the assembled nobles. “Any questions?”
The first noble to get promoted raised his hand. Tafel pointed at him. “I want to know,” he said and scratched his neck, adjusting his clothes, “what exactly was I promoted to?”
“That’s a good question,” Tafel said. She pointed at Frederick III. “You, tell him.”
Frederick III blinked three times and pointed at himself. “Me?”
“Am I pointing at anyone else?” Tafel asked and raised an eyebrow. “Go on,” she said and cleared her throat. “Tell him what comes with a promotion.”
“B-but I don’t know anything about promotions,” Frederick III said and swallowed.
Tafel wrinkled her nose. “You’re demoted.” She nodded. “Any other questions?”
The promoted noble raised his hand again, but he lowered it when Tafel glared at him with fire in her eyes. He pursed his lips and tucked his hands into his lap, making himself seem as small as possible. If anything, a promotion was always a good sign. Perhaps it meant his soul wouldn’t be eaten, or it’d be eaten last. That was a comforting thought, no?
***
Henry VIII frowned at his ministers. His hand was raised in the air, waving a letter. “Who sent this? What new ruler of the Holy Roman Empire? What horse dribble is this?” His eyes scanned the ministers before he snorted. “Look here. The emperor of the Holy Roman Empire is my dear buddy Charles. How is it possible that he was overthrown? And this letter, the new ruler wishes to take away my red dragon, and I’ll greatly regret it if I don’t?” Henry VIII spat on the ground. “Who vets these? Which one of you ministers are supposed to make sure I’m not wasting my time? The wax seal obviously didn’t belong to Charles!”
“Your Majesty,” one of the ministers said. “It was sent via courier pigeon, and the pigeon that sent it was the one that Charles V always used.”
Moments later, a letter flew into the minister’s face. Henry VIII scowled. “Don’t call him Charles. He’s an emperor, for heaven’s sake. Who do you think you are?” He snorted and leaned back into his throne with his arms crossed. “Whatever. Whoever arrives is planning a conspiracy involving my dear buddy Charles. Capture them immediately upon arrival and execute them, no questions asked. Do they really think I’m that easy to fool?”