The Gathering Storm (Crown of Stars #5)

The Gathering Storm (Crown of Stars #5) Page 42

Anna stood next to Blessing at the railing. She had never seen anything so vast in her life. Even Blessing, for once, was stricken to silence by the immensity of the waters and the answering sky, mottled with clouds. The wind whipped her braid along her shoulders and rippled her clothing across her skin like a caress.

“I’ve seen the sea before,” Thiemo was saying boastfully to Matto. “The Northern Sea. I rode there with Prince Ekkehard, when we were at Gent.”

“I’m just a poor country boy, my lord,” retorted Matto in a tone that made her wince. “I’ve never seen such sights.”

They both chose that moment to look at her, testing her reaction, and she flushed and looked away over the waters.

“They’re following us,” said Blessing, head turned to gaze at the ships behind.

“Of course, my lady. We’ll all sail together, just as we marched together.”

“No. I mean the men-fish. They want to know where we’re going. They’re following us. But I don’t think they can follow us up onto land.”

Anna shuddered, but although she peered at their wake, she saw no merfolk.

For seven days they sailed north and east along the sea, always in sight of land and mostly in good weather, disturbed by one bracing squall out of the north. They often saw other ships sailing southeast, and three times the ship-master caught sight of a sail that looked like a skulking privateer, but no lone pirate wished to attack a fleet and so they continued on their way unmolested. On the eighth day they put into the port of Sordaia.

At least five hundred Arethousan soldiers stood in tidy ranks along the waterfront, alerted by the number of ships, and it quickly became obvious that any attempt to disembark would be met with force. The governor of the town, an Arethousan potentate from the imperial capital, had sent a representative to speak to the arrivals. The Most Honorable Lord High Chamberlain in Charge of the Governor’s Treasure, Basil, had no beard but was not a priest. He was, Brother Breschius explained, a eunuch.

“He’s had his balls cut off?” exclaimed Matto, horrified. He glanced at Anna and blushed.

“Like Brother Zacharias,” said Thiemo, “but this one doesn’t look the same. He looks softer.”

“What was done to Brother Zacharias was nothing like this,” said Breschius gently. “That was mutilation. No doubt the operation on this man—if we can call him such—was carried out when he was a boy. It’s considered a great honor.”

Thiemo laughed nervously, and Matto was too embarrassed and appalled to speak. After lengthy introductions and some kind of tedious speech on the part of the eunuch, Sanglant sent Brother Heribert, who spoke Arethousan, to the palace with an assortment of gifts—a cloak trimmed with marten fur, a gold treasure box, delicately carved ivory spoons, and an altar cloth embroidered with gold thread. The negotiations took the rest of the day, ending in the late afternoon after Prince Sanglant agreed to go with a small party to the palace the next day as a hostage for the good behavior of his troops.

“The Most Honorable Lord High Chamberlain Basil informs me that we are allowed to set up camp in an abandoned fort built by the former Jinna overlords outside the town walls,” said Heribert, still flushed and sweating from traveling back and forth between harbor and palace in the hot summer sun.

“There won’t be time to disembark many before it gets dark,” said the ship-master, examining the sun. “Maybe it’s better done tomorrow.”

“Or we could send a smaller force tonight to begin setting up,” said Fulk. “That’s what I recommend.”

“Is it safe?” asked Hathui. “The few who disembark tonight will be easy to kill, if these Arethousans intend treachery.”

“It seems a foolish way to provoke our anger,” said Sanglant. “We can disembark fighting, if need be. How would it benefit them to anger us in such a petty way?”

“They are Arethousans, my lord prince,” remarked Lady Bertha, who had been rowed over from another ship. “They imbibe treachery with their mother’s milk. You can’t trust them.”

“Nor do I. Nevertheless, Captain Fulk has the right of it. Captain, send one hundred men tonight. Not Wichman or any of his company. There should be time for them to reach the fort and reconnoiter before it’s too dark to see.”

“I want to go! I want to go!” cried Blessing.

“No.” Sanglant beckoned to Breschius. “I need Heribert to attend me at the palace and you to remain here with the ships until everyone is off. You are the only ones who can speak Arethousan. There must be no misunderstandings.”