Betrayal's Shadow by Dave de Burgh

Author:Dave de Burgh [Burgh, Dave de]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tickety Boo Press Ltd
Published: 2015-11-30T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

The ark dwarfed everything in the water around it. Del’Ahrid stood watching in awe, feeling small indeed before the massive construction.

He stood at the very edge of the wide dock, one hand braced against the side of a thick mooring pole, knuckles white. He had tried looking up, letting his gaze slide up the construction’s surface, but grew dizzy at the sheer scale his mind was trying to comprehend.

From a distance the ark had looked strange – it was a blocky craft, having more in common with the sprawl of a large warehouse than with a vessel capable of floating on water. He had been told that it was eight storeys high, three hundred metres wide and five hundred metres in length, but he had stood too far away for those measurements to mean anything.

At that distance, the men dotting its surface looked like ants.

But up close it was just too much for the mind to fully grasp; Ambassador Herst hadn’t been joking, a week earlier, when he had told Del’Ahrid that the ark was the biggest movement-capable man-made construction in the Kingdom’s history. Del’Ahrid was now sure that nothing as large as this ark had ever been built, except perhaps for the Royal Palace – but the Palace was a fixed landmark – the ark could move.

As far as he could see it wasn’t even moving. The waves crashing against its side seemed like the small fists of a child battering against the thick, muscled chest of a professional wrestler. There was a slight movement to it, but Del’Ahrid was put in mind of a gargantuan beast breathing, not a ship that would take three thousand citizens across the ocean. Beside him, Herst finally spoke.

“Impressive, isn’t she?” He sounded like a proud father; as well he should. Del’Ahrid knew that the King would be suitably impressed.

No, He’ll be in awe.

Del’Ahrid breathed. “Truly impressive. I imagined what it would look like, from the drawings and the plans, but this is…”

Herst chuckled. “It is, isn’t it?”

Del’Ahrid forced his gaze away from it, turning and beginning to walk away. Herst followed. The wooden decking of the dock was as clean as the dockmaster’s workers could get it and the boards were stiff and strong under his feet. “The arrangements have been made to see the head dockmaster suitably rewarded?” Del’Ahrid asked.

“They have,” Herst answered, “and he’s been made aware of his new position. He doesn’t like it, though, seems to want to stay here and not sit in an office in the city. I can’t blame him really; Urenin’s always been a hands-on kind of man.”

“Nonetheless,” said Del’Ahrid, “he’s the best man for the job. None of the other dockmasters have finished their arks yet, and we need a man with his diligence to chivvy the others into completing their arks.”

Silence from Herst. If Del’Ahrid looked at him he knew he would see a smile on the man’s face. It was calculated, giving him this information. A rule of politics that

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