Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) by Jonathan Michael (best ebook for manga txt) 📕

Shambrock. “Maybe whoever is stealing the ironwood could also be holding the Dihkai captive and using their talents to test against the ironwood,” I suggest. This is the least invasive of what could be happening to them. If Carib builds an army, who does he build it with? To influence so many to his cause would take an eternity. He cannot break down the taboo culture I have built around what he does. Not so easily. Not so quickly. “It could possibly be for defensive purposes. They could be trying to create an armor that is indestructible even to the Dihkai. That is likely the worst-case scenario,” I lie. Worst-case would be mutilation as he’s done to himself. Worst-case would be the creation of Nocturnal Eyes. Those who don’t sleep. Who don’t eat. But I cannot openly suggest this. Not without revealing too much about our potential. Not even Nigel is aware of how dire this situation could be. “Another possibility would simply be a group of bandits that, for some reason or another, does not want this project completed. Nigel, have you heard any word? Do you have any enemies looking to strike you down?” I offer another subtle shake of my head so he doesn’t divulge too much.

“Well…of course, sir. I have too many to count. That being said, most aren’t stupid enough to carry out a plan like this. Or too stupid to carry out a plan like this. I don’t have anyone specific in mind, so to answer your question, no, I have no leads, sir.”

“So, I’m an idiot for not having heard of any rebellious forces, but you’re not?” Shambrock exclaims.

“You’re an idiot because you’re an idiot, not because you haven’t heard anything,” Nigel rebuttals.

“Nigel, you’re not any better for the matter,” Leonard adds. “You act the part of an almighty god who controls all of the world with enemies that wouldn’t dare strike you down. Like that queen the Taoiseach speaks of. Idiot, maybe not, but arrogant and ignorant, definitely so.”

I clear my throat and reach for the tumbler placed in front of me. I’m surprised I made it this far into the council meeting without touching it. Each of them silences their tongue and looks in my direction with full attention. I intentionally make them wait while I collect my thoughts.

These men of Parliament know nothing. All except Nigel. There is only one person who could be responsible for both the missing Dihkai and the ironwood. Carib Reign builds his Immortal army. Fear settles inside me.

“Shogun Shambrock.”

“Yes, sir, Taoiseach.”

“Regardless of the reason for these thefts, we must protect our resources. Triple the guard at the site and send a squad of Regal Riders as well. Kill as many of these bandits as you can. The threat must be eliminated. And leave them hanging from the trees as a warning to all others. One more thing, Shambrock, be sure to light them on fire either before or after you hang them, but don’t let a single one of them remain unburnt.”

“It is our way, Taoiseach, sir.” He opens his mouth to say something more, but refrains and accepts the command with a nod.

“Next topic, then?” I inquire.

“Uh, actually…” Leonard Lumen speaks up, “we need to label this new, uh, road, or whatever we’re calling it. Any suggestions?”

“Let’s call it a railroad,” Nigel proposes. He gets some nods and one firm rejection.

“That’s ridiculous. Why would we call it a rail road?” Shambrock replies.

“Not a rail road. It’s more fluid than that. Railroad. Loosen that muscled jaw of yours and say it with me. Railroad.”

“I don’t care how you say it, it doesn’t fit. It is neither a rail nor a road,” insists Shambrock.

“Then, what is it?” Leonard replies.

“It’s a track made from iron wood. A track with a carriage on it. Let’s call it The Iron Carriage. No…even better, The Ironcar.” Shambrock closes his eyes and gives a curt bow, evidently impressed by his creative intellect. The others surrounding the table are not inspired.

“Ironcar?” Leonard repeats. “That is more ridiculous than railroad. What is a car?”

“It’s short for carriage. What else?”

“I get that, but are you so lazy that you cannot sound out the entire word? Next thing you know we’ll be assigning acronyms to everyday curses. Keep speaking before you think, Shambrock, and you’re likely to remove yourself from this table in a haste. This is my project. I will name it.”

Why do I attend these meetings? They are a waste of my time. I am the Taoiseach. I should not have to put up with this. But I must. I must tolerate incompetence. It is the mass.

“The Ironrail,” I propose. “There. It is named.” It doesn’t matter what they call it. The public will refer to it as a completely different name, regardless of what we choose. The four of them nod in agreement without debate. Some even admit their approval. “I have one more inquiry about this ironrail. Architect Lumen, you should be able to answer this one. We have this rail that travels leagues upon leagues as a designated route for trade and commerce. It will be able to carry passengers to and from their desired destinations. The intention is to speed up travel for all, allowing for easier access to the various villages and more efficient transportation method for commodities. Correct?”

“Yes, sir,” Leonard replies nervously, uncertain of where I’m taking this.

“It sounds too good. What is the power source?”

Leonard looks at me, puzzled. His hands fidget on the oaken table.

“What makes it go, Leonard?” I ask more simply—not that my question is a difficult one. Leonard hesitates, which means he knows I won’t like the answer. “What makes the carriage go to and from, Leonard?” I ask more assertively this time.

“It is somewhat complicated, sir. There are multiple stations, carriages between each