Orena’s thoughts gave a final pulse, heavy with a sense of regretful necessity; a lesson she barely understood but needed to share:
• • •
They thronged the docks to watch her go, drowning her in a tumult of cheers and exhortations as she ascended the gangplank to the deck of the
“Fleet Lord Ell-Nestra,” she greeted the Shield as he performed a precisely formal bow.
“Highness,” he said in the neutral tone she found ever more grating. “The ships from South Tower and Warnsclave approach. We will rendezvous ten miles from shore, weather permitting.”
She ignored the final jibe, softly spoken though it had been. He and several of his captains had voiced objections to her decision to sail so early in the year, advising the winter storms would still be raging on the high seas. He was unmoved by Brother Harlick’s carefully prepared tables of historical weather patterns, indicating the northern Boraelin underwent a five-week period of relative calm during the months of Illnasur and Onasur. “Just marks on paper, Highness,” the Shield had said, casting a dismissive eye over the librarian’s papers. “Udonor doesn’t read.”
“He may not, but I do,” Lyrna replied. “Our enemies do not expect us until the spring and I will not pass up an opportunity to surprise them. Our fleet will be complete within the month whereupon we will sail, with or without you.”
Her gaze went to the
The Shield bowed again and began calling out the orders that would see them away from the docks, the crew running to detach lines and heave the beams into place to push them from the wharf.
“Wait!” Lyrna ordered as her gaze found a diminutive figure at the prow. Alornis didn’t look up from the contraption as Lyrna approached, gently tapping a small hammer to some piping on its underside. “My lady,” Lyrna said.
“Highness.” Alornis gave the pipe a final tap, smiling in satisfaction at the sound it produced.
“If your work here is complete,” Lyrna went on, “I would ask that you go ashore.”
“Sadly this new device requires more work.” Alornis gave a transparently forced laugh and crouched to inspect the machine’s supporting legs. “I can’t possibly let it sail in such condition, Highness.”
Lyrna went to her side, speaking in soft tones. “I gave your brother the most solemn promise that I would keep you safe. Now, remove yourself to the shore or I’ll have Lord Iltis do it for you . . .”
“They killed Alucius!” Alornis whirled towards her, the hammer flying across the deck as she tossed it aside, face livid, her shout heralding a frigid stillness on the deck. “You promise justice.” Alornis’s voice had taken on a strangled tone though she forced the words out, her gaze tearful but unwavering. “I have travelled the length of this Realm recording murder and destruction with every mile, and laboured without sleep for months to provide you these deadly instruments. All without request for reward or expectation of favour, because you promised justice, and I want mine.”
“Fleet Lord Ell-Nestra,” she said, turning away. “Please get us under way.”
• • •
The first few days were hard, the seas high enough to rob the fleet of any appearance of cohesion, many of the ships lost to sight in the near-constant rain. At the Shield’s orders, every vessel had experienced navigators on board, most of them Meldeneans who could be trusted to keep an eastward bearing regardless of the weather. Even so there were times when Lyrna looked out on the shifting grey wall that surrounded them and had to suppress the feeling they were sailing alone.
