The sailing ships came into view all too quickly. The Mendalyon was the largest of them all, with a massive figurehead of a mermaid. It was almost fully cloaked by the night, but with the moon out I easily recognised it. The darkness wouldn’t entirely hide our presence high above, and I knew their sailors would be keeping watch and tending to their duties. They would be needed to keep the ship running, even at night. A distraction would be necessary, so we could board the ship unnoticed.
The darkness of night erupted in flame as Cyron’s dragon strafed the ship sailing ahead of the Pirate King’s flagship. Over the sound of wind and waves, I could hear their shouts of alarm and screams of pain. These were then echoed as my dragon strafed the front of the Pirate King’s ship, catching a number of sailors who had rushed forward to see what had happened to the ship ahead of them.
Both dragons circled to the rear of the Mendalyon, and we jumped from our dragons’ backs once they were close enough. While we attended to our duties, the dragons attacked the other ships in order to add to the confusion and chaos. For those who crewed a wooden sailing ship, there were few greater fears than fire.
Once Cyron and I were on the deck, we were on our own. The crew took up arms at once and it was no doubt with protecting their king in mind. In some ways the princess was my counterpart, though Olys was unwilling to officially recognize their royal family.
I’d gone to that ship to kill just one person, but I had no choice but to defend myself and the only way to reach Elbereth necessitated leaving a trail of blood.
Armed with twin knives, I cut the sailors down who challenged me. One slashed at me with a sword, but Cyron ran him through before he could do any real damage.
I started after the princess—or rather where I expected her to be, but then I noticed Cyron hesitated behind me.
“I’m going after her father,” Cyron insisted.
The Pirate King was my father’s adversary as surely as his daughter was. My father had convinced me of the danger posed by her, but then I knew she was like a chess piece that stood in the way of his success. It was just one reason why he needed me to stop her.
“You have your orders,” I said, as I knew Cyron surely would.
We strode through the doorway with our own targets in mind, and barred the door so no one could follow us through it. Together, we crossed paths with an elderly man. He’d heard the commotion outside, and he’d taken cover in the corner of his cabin, sword in hand.
“Stay away,” he ordered in heavily-accented Olys. “Leave me be and I won’t interfere.”
He obviously knew who we were.
Cyron approached with a hint of a condescending smile on his face. Something about it made me feel ill.
The Captain—if indeed that’s who he was—thrust his blade at Cyron, who easily parried the blow. I turned away as Cyron cut him down. The king probably hadn’t been captaining his own ship, but he might still be there, as might his daughter.
We split up as our pursuit continued below decks. The rough passageways held many doors, but I knew the royal cabins would likely be closer to the captain’s. I approached the first door with care, and slipped my left hand dagger into its sheath while I held on to the right. I turned the latch, then gave the door a swift shove with my booted foot. It swung inwards and I saw the room was dark. The aroma of burnt candles was strong in the air, and I was sure it wasn’t empty. Someone had likely extinguished the candles to try and hide.
I stepped from the room and glanced along the corridor. Not ten feet back, an oil lantern hung from a hook on the wall, casting more than enough light to see by. I clearly remember unhooking it and returning to the doorway. They would see me of course, and know where I was while I held that light. I threw it into the room, smashing the lantern on the floor. The oil-soaked floorboards quickly caught fire, casting the room in an eerie orange light. I’m not proud of my actions now, but we planned to burn the ship anyway.
I heard the sound of something knocked down from across the cabin, but as I strode in closer, knife in hand, I saw a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned quickly, raising my knife to parry the attack before it cut me. An elderly man ran through the doorway; he was quick on his feet and skilled with a sword. I hadn’t brought a sword because knives were better for close combat.
I dodged his next swing, and kicked him back, knocking him into the door frame.
He lashed out at me with his sword, but I was fast, just as I’d trained to be. I don’t know why my father hadn’t just ordered us to torch the ships from above at the outset, along with anyone escaping. I think he wanted to put me in the thick of combat, so I would have to fight and kill in his name.
I stabbed my enemy and left him bleeding on the floor. He was likely unconscious, not dead, but that would change when the ships were attacked with dragonfire. As the room burned, I searched for my target. I found her under a table against the wall, hiding in the shadows. My father had led me to believe she was a sorceress of power and dark allegiance, but that wasn’t what I saw.
“Who are you?” I demanded, wanting to know if it was her. I had no idea what she looked like, but her rich clothes gave me reason to suspect this was the princess.
She shook her head, retaining her silence, until I knocked the small table away. She stared up at me in horror and I felt truly evil in that moment, even though I didn’t want to be.
She whimpered as I stood over her. “Elbereth…”
I shook my head and walked across the room. The princess couldn’t have been more than six or seven years old. She wasn’t what I’d thought, and if she was so powerful a sorceress she’d have attacked me.
My father wanted to wipe out the line of succession. I could see it. He told me what he thought I needed to hear, so I’d carry out his orders. Maybe this girl had the touch of magic, but that in itself wasn’t a crime. The way you used it could be, and my father didn’t want his enemies growing too powerful. I could’ve killed her. I don’t think it would’ve been hard, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. That wasn’t the kind of person I wanted to be, and this child deserved better than to have her life taken away.
It wasn’t something I’d thought about when he’d ordered the ships burned. You expect sailors, or pirates—as these people are, not children. I knew by this point Elbereth was probably an orphan. I turned back around, and saw her clinging to a support pillar watching me. Did this young girl have the potential to become our greatest adversary in the future if I let her live? I didn’t know, but I was certain Cyron would catch up with me soon, so I had to hurry.
“If you want to live, do as I say.”
I wondered what price I’d have to pay for my act of mercy.
“Hide until I’m gone and get into the water. Climb down if you can because it’s too far down to jump. Swim away from the ship because it’s going to be destroyed. Don’t take a boat. Return for floating debris once we’re gone. It’s the only way you’ll survive. They’re going to burn all the boats.”
I was going to suggest overturning one, but she didn’t look physically strong.
“No!!” she cried. “Father…”
She burst into tears, but I didn’t have the luxury of time or the patience for it. “I’ll tell them you’re dead, but it’s up to you to survive this now. Don’t go after your father. Save yourself, and if he can, he will too.”
I knew her father wasn’t going to survive this if he was on board, but I didn’t have the heart to say it. Cyron was nothing if not effective. He was one of the greatest swordsmen in Olys.
“When I go, fill a bottle with water and take it with you.”
I grabbed an apple from the sideboard and threw it to her. She didn’t catch it and it fell to the floor.
She stared at it with wide eyes.
“It will take time for your people to reach you.” I knew they’d come looking, but it could be days.
There was nothing better I could offer this girl, so I left. If she had the will
to survive, she might. After I told her what to do, I simply walked away.
The burning ships were a tragic sight from my dragon’s back, but I tried to deny how beautiful that light seemed in the darkness. There was no conversation on the way back; Cyron rode the other dragon, and I sat behind the rider on Jasper’s back. Dragon riders spoke in only the simplest of ways, seemingly devoid of emotion. Before we’d left the ship, I saw Cyron’s sinister grin of success as he’d declared his task was done, and I had said the same. I reasoned that if my deception was discovered, I could claim I’d killed someone older. After all, King Leo hadn’t told me Elbereth was a child. Knowing my father, it wouldn’t work, though I knew he still cared for me.
The return flight gave me ample opportunity to question my actions, but I didn’t regret them. I regretted that I was there in the first place, and that a role that I thought would take me away from the evils of war only brought me closer to... whatever this was. My father wanted someone who wouldn’t flinch in the heat of battle, who would do what he felt must be done without question, and I knew then that I couldn’t be the person he wanted me to be. I refused… but maybe if I stayed in the role long enough, I might yet do some more good. I didn’t want to undermine the kingdom, but it was one thing to spy on one’s neighbours. Killing the vulnerable was another matter entirely.
I knew where my life was headed. I couldn’t keep it up forever, but if I wove small acts of mercy among my other deeds, perhaps I could maintain that for a long time. My resolve would be tested the first time I looked into my father’s eyes after returning, or so I thought. As chance had it, he found out first. I might have been the Spymaster, but it seemed my father had other contacts of his own. Within days, word reached him that Elbereth had been rescued by her people and her mother with her. What’s more, my father was facing the prospect of war.
They came for me in the night while I slept in my drafty chamber. I don’t remember what I’d been dreaming, if I was at all, but I jumped awake as my door burst open and guards flooded the room. If I’d drawn the knife hidden beneath my pillow, I probably wouldn’t have made it out of the room alive. It might have been a mistake, but I placed my faith—perhaps misguidedly—in diplomacy. After all, the king was my father, and for all his evil acts, I still held some trust and love for him.
The guards marched me to the castle dungeons, and there I languished for countless hours before Cyron came to see me. I could tell from his expression that he was in a poor mood, even before he spoke. Something in his dark eyes told me I had reason to worry, but I expected my father to be reasonable with me. He was cruel but fair, usually.
“Your Highness, how are you faring?” he asked.
Cyron had never struck me as the kind of man who cared about my interests, but that might have just been a failure of imagination on my part.
“I’m about as well as can be expected, thank you, Cyron. Have you spoken with my father? What’s going on?” I asked, trying to play dumb.
It wasn’t a matter that my father saw through me; he hadn’t summoned me or been to see me. No one had made any attempt to question or interrogate me yet. I’d been expecting it with fear verging on paranoia.
“You have been charged with High Treason.” He spoke as though the words left a bitter taste in his mouth.
It made me realize, could Cyron actually have liked me? If my father charged me with High Treason, then it was all over. There was only one sentence for it and that was death.
“Why would my father charge me with that?” My voice shook as I asked him, and I tried not to look away when Cyron gazed into my eyes. I think he was trying to determine my guilt and I’m not sure if I failed in that test. I couldn’t even say the words ‘High Treason’. My mind didn’t want to go there.
“You really don’t know?” he asked.
I shook my head. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I was sure I’d only be condemned for it, even by him.
“You helped an enemy evade the king’s justice and you lied about killing her.”
My breath caught. Could Elbereth have disclosed the fact I’d let her go? After all, the king’s description of her was lacking in the extreme. The fact they knew I’d helped her limited my options severely. Unless of course this was a ploy to discover whether it was true… and they didn’t know anything, except that she’d lived?
I was going to explain, but I held my tongue. Even mercy for a young child wouldn’t be enough to justify High Treason in Cyron’s book, nor my father’s.
“I didn’t help her,” I said, standing my ground. “That must’ve been somebody else. I thought I killed her. Is it possible I killed the wrong person?”
Moments passed in silence as I watched Cyron and he stared back at me, studying my expression. I could see his mind working through his thoughts, considering my words.
“That is possible,” he said matter-of-factly. I saw a flicker of hope in his eyes, and I was surprised to see that he wanted me to survive this. Perhaps I’d gained an ally I never knew about.
“I will request an audience with the king and see if we can get to the bottom of it,” he promised.
I nodded. It had long been my stance to hope for the best but prepare for the worst. I just didn’t know how to prepare myself for my own possible execution. I was sure that I’d done the right thing, but if they were going to take my life, I didn’t want to go to my grave a liar.
“Thank you,” I said, sighing as I gripped the bars of my cell. “I know you’ll do what you can.”
He nodded, and while I noticed creases of worry around his eyes, there was also a flicker of uncertainty in them. He didn’t know if he could trust me. He probably knew full well that I was lying, but he didn’t want to believe it or see me killed.
“Is there anything I can get you before I go?”
I smiled; I’m sure it was pained, because in that moment I was. “A key would be good. Failing that, some water. No one’s brought me any since I got here.”
“The king would have my head if I freed you, but I’ll see what I can do about the water.”
When he walked away, a dark blanket of fear engulfed me. He gave me some hope that my father might be ‘reasonable’, but if he wouldn’t listen, how many more days would I see? It was a terrifying prospect, and then there was how they’d do it. Drawing and quartering was the usual method, but he’d used dragonfire more than once. The only saving grace might be that dragonfire would be faster.
Water wasn’t brought to me for many more hours. I wouldn’t have thought myself capable of it, but I slept, dreaming of creatures that I couldn’t escape. It was dark when I awakened, and Albin was watching me. The King’s Advisor looked younger than his thirty-something years. His hair was a dark brown and thinning on top. I got the impression he’d been studying me for some time.
“You must have faith in our king to sleep so well at a time like this.”
“Oh, I do,” I replied, though I had my fears as well. They almost paralyzed me. Even with the nightmare, sleep had been an escape from reality for a while.
“I bring word from His Majesty. He accepts that he might have received misinformation in this case, but without proof of your innocence and with the weight of the evidence against you, he can’t be seen to do nothing.”
“What does that mean? Are you saying he’s going to execute me even though I’m innocent?”
“Not exactly,” Albin replied, before giving me a hint of a knowing smile. “He has a way you can continue to serve the kingdom and your skills won’t be wasted. Your father has arranged for you to join the Winged Guard. You are to become a dragon rider.”
I stared at him, stunned. “But there would be nothing left of me. I would be gone and all that would be left is my body, functioning as a dragon rider.”
“Why are you so surprised? One way or another you will help your father achieve his aims, Niera.”
A week ago, he wouldn’t have called me Niera by name. He would’ve called me ‘Your Highness�
��, and he’d always treated me with respect. Now I was seeing the truth of who Albin was. It made me wonder what else he was capable of.
“I want to see my father,” I said, wondering if I only reinforced Albin’s position of power, asking anything of him at all.
“The king won’t be coming. He doesn’t visit the dungeons, especially for traitors, nor receive them as guests.”
Albin’s accusation left a bitter taste in my mouth and I was left with an overwhelming urge to punch him. If there was anything left of me after my punishment, perhaps I would come back for him later on dragonback. Sadly, I knew that wasn’t likely to happen. Everything would be as my father wanted it. At least I’d managed to save the girl, and she wasn’t alone in the world because her mother still lived. It felt like a kick in the teeth, though, that she’d brought me to this.
I decided to try not to think of it that way, and maybe I would maintain my lie. I didn’t owe my father anything now, especially the truth.
“You will serve as a living reminder of why our king shouldn’t be crossed. After all, if he’ll do this to the crown princess, what would he do to the common folk should they betray him?”
My heart ached because I already knew the truth. Anything.
It felt good to be out in the open again, even though I wasn’t alone and my wrists were bound. Five guards accompanied me along the forest path. The sunlight glinted off their silver armour and red cloaks, which twisted in the breeze. There was something eerie about that colour red, because it summoned images of blood and combat.
Two walked on ahead of me—Anley and Harris, who were members of the guard detachment Cyron commanded. One walked behind me—I didn’t know his name. As often as I had reason to speak with the guards, there were many who were unfamiliar to me. On either side were George and David, neither of whom I knew especially well. It seemed like overkill, assigning so many guards to accompany me. Even one of them could have killed me if I tried to escape, as I was unarmed and they had their swords.
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