by Ree Soesbee
“Whoa, Coby.” Sykox stepped closer and gripped him gently. “You’re weaving.” He frowned, looking his friend over with concern. “You’ve gone pale, and your eyes aren’t focusing. Isaye, help him sit down.” Together, they lowered Cobiah to the deck, keeping the bloodied Seraph cloak tucked about him. The charr pulled his hand away from Cobiah’s body, staring down at his paw, which was red with more than the rusty color of his fur.
Edair’s eyes widened at the sight. He snapped his fingers at the Seraph, auburn hair brushing the tanned skin of his cheekbones. “Bring bandages. We need to tend to his wounds.” One of the marines came forward, carrying medical supplies, and began to look at Cobiah’s ravaged hand, the bloodied puncture in his back, the wound on his ribs that had again ripped open. The marine’s gentle fingers drew a gasp of breath from the commodore, and everything blurred. Cobiah’s vision narrowed. “Whoa, there, Cobiah.” Edair gripped his shoulder, holding him steady. Cobiah caught sight of a concerned glance between the prince and Isaye, but things had stopped making as much sense as they had before.
“I’m fine.” Cobiah tried to push the prince’s hand away. “I just need a minute to rest.”
“Captain Isaye? I think someone’s waiting to see you,” Livia said smoothly.
A bright voice keened from across the deck. “Mama!” It was the homesick call of a little boy. Dane beamed as he pulled his hand away from one of the Shining Blade, racing over the boards toward his mother. Isaye opened her arms and wrapped him up tightly, holding the child snugly to her as he laughed. “I saw the prince’s crown, and I ate an omnomberry tart, and Livia told me a story about Queen Salma . . .” Dane’s voice chattered on eagerly as Isaye kissed his face.
Livia smiled at Isaye. “Your son was very brave.”
“He takes after his father,” Isaye said, holding the child close. She tousled his mahogany locks and turned toward Cobiah. “Dane, I want you to meet Cobiah.” The little boy stared at the commodore and ducked his face into his mother’s dark hair, suddenly shy. “Coby . . . this is your son.” As he met the child’s eyes, which were blue and wide with innocence, Cobiah felt as though he were young again, standing on the docks of old Lion’s Arch, teasing a little girl about mermaids and keeping her safe from bad dreams. They had the same pure gaze, the same bashful smile.
Cobiah reached out and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, his heart filled with joy. “He’s beautiful, Isaye.”
“He’s a scamp, that’s what he is.” Isaye squeezed the boy close. “Just like his father.”
With a smile, Cobiah reached into his pocket. “I don’t know if it’s the kind of thing boys like, but here—I have a present for you.” Cobiah drew the rag doll from his inner pocket, pressing it into the child’s hands. “Someday, I’ll tell you a story about my sister, Biviane. This was her doll. Now it’s yours. Keep her close, and she’ll keep you safe. Just like she’s always done for me.” Cobiah folded the boy’s hands around the soft rag doll, smiling as the child looked at it with curious eyes.
Although the boy didn’t understand the toy’s significance, he held the rag doll close, cradling it like a treasured friend. “What’s her name?” Dane asked inquisitively.
“Polla,” Cobiah replied. Dane ran a gentle hand over her yellow yarn curls and smiled.
Cobiah let out a grunt as fresh bandages were tightened around his waist. His injured hand was wrapped with strips of fabric, blood spotting the white canvas like foam on a still tidal pool. “Your Highness,” the medic said quietly. “His wounds are extensive. I’ve done everything I can to help him, but the commodore’s lost a great deal of blood. I don’t know if . . .” The Seraph’s words trailed off.
“I’ll be fine.” Cobiah pushed the medic away. “I just need some rest. At home. With my family.” Isaye looked at him fondly, and they shared a smile.
“If we still have a home,” Fassur growled, his voice low and threatening. “The Orrians are gone, but the war’s not over. Kryta still holds Lion’s Arch hostage.”
Edair bristled. Before the prince could speak, Livia’s cool voice broke in. “His Royal Highness has come to an accord with Commodore Marriner. I’m certain that no further violence will be necessary.”
For a moment, Cobiah thought the pompous Krytan might go back on his word. Edair smoothed the sleeves of his ruined doublet, frowning thoughtfully as he considered the implications of their bargain. At last, the prince nodded somberly. “So I did. Full independence, I believe, was our agreement.”
The charr broke into wide smiles and roars of approval, and both the Nomad II’s crew and the asura under Yomm’s command began to chatter in gleeful satisfaction. Cobiah held up a hand to quiet them. Addressing the prince, he said, “You were looking to make history here in Lion’s Arch, Prince Edair. I respectfully suggest that you’ve done exactly that—though not in the way you were intending.” He took a deep breath, feeling the wounds and aches of his body throbbing with the movement. “A conquered people will always resist you, Edair. But allies—allies will fight by your side.” Cobiah put a hand on Sykox’s mane, ruffling the charr’s reddish fur between his fingers. “You’d be surprised what we can achieve together.
“That is the lesson of my city, Prince Edair.” Cobiah raised his voice, aware that everyone on deck—charr, human, and asura, Krytan and citizen of Lion’s Arch alike—was listening. “Together, Tyria is stronger than it could ever be in parts.”
Edair nodded, his features softening. A twinkle of his old impudence sparkled in the prince’s eye. “All of you gathered here on this day,” he demanded, voice rising to address the gathering. “I call on you to witness my words, as prince of Divinity’s Reach and heir to the Krytan throne.”
The prince drew his sword and held it sideways, giving his oath on the blade. “On this day, the nation of Kryta hereby recants all authority over the city of Lion’s Arch and the lands it claims, so long as it continues to fight against the threat of Orr. With courage, it’s earned its freedom—and our friendship.” He bent his knee and held the blade out to Cobiah as the others crowded around them on the Balthazar’s Trident’s deck. “In return, do you, as commodore of this city, pledge your goodwill to Kryta, as her friend in peace and her ally in time of need?”
Cobiah placed his hand on the steel of the prince’s sword. “As leader of the council, I, Cobiah Marriner, do so swear.”
Livia called out to all those assembled, her dark eyes flashing beneath the silken sway of her scarlet hair. “Let the word travel across Tyria—Lion’s Arch shall forever be free.”
Cheers erupted from the gathered crew of both ships. The charr roared in approval, and even the Seraph looked relieved and pleased by the accord. Other ships in the harbor, sailing close enough to hear the news passed by eager shouts, took up the cry until the crew of every ship in the harbor were waving their hats and firing their guns in celebration.
“Did you see that crazy asura?” Sykox flopped down on the deck beside Cobiah, his paw resting on the commodore’s shoulder, claws gently curved around his old friend’s arm. “Tricked us, stole the Pride, and then blew up our ship!”
Cobiah nodded. “You should never have taught her how the compression unit worked.”
The spotted charr chuckled. “Too true.” He shook his head, mane rustling around his brawny shoulders. “That little ear flapper did the right thing in the end. I’d give her the greatest compliment a soldier of the legions can give.” Sykox crossed one arm in front of his chest in an Iron Legion salute, looking out toward the area where the Maw had been destroyed. “She died like a charr.”
“So she did, my friend. So she did.” Cobiah closed his eyes, a wash of exhaustion flooding over him.
It was done. Although there was still much to do to rebuild the city’s fleet and restore her trade routes, with this agreement, more and more travelers and merchants would come to Lion’s Arch. The city was safe, and there would be peace. As celebrations broke out around them, Cobiah was acutely aware of
Isaye’s presence at his side, her arms cradling his body and her eyes filled with love. When she spoke, her voice was a soft, welcome whisper in his ear. “Come on, Cobiah.
“Let’s go home.”
“WEATHER THE STORM”
(A TYRIAN SEA SHANTY)
You don’t know a storm ’til you ride the wind
Beneath cold and blackened skies, O
’Til you’re sailing through a thunderhead
With the lightning in your eyes
Death, he laughs in the sails and the jags
And the bloody sun won’t rise, O.
A sailor’s life’s filled with toil and strife
The sea’s both boon and bane, O
We’re Kryta bound on a northern tide
Through the lightning and the rain
We’ll sail through all these stormy nights
’Til we’re safe at home again, O.
Open sea, and we’re homeward bound
Fair or foul the weather, O
The cap’n swears we’ll make our port
Though the sun’s burned to an ember
If the Dead Ships come and the darkness falls
Then we’ll all go down together, O.
She’s a restless sloop with a six-armed maid
A-dancing on her prow, O
Her brassy cannons crease the sea
But the weather’s chased her down
Her compass spins, and her captain screams
And the crew’s all dead and drown’d, O.
The sails are rent, and the engine’s blown
The keel is split to stern, O
We lost the rudder to the tide
And the mizzenmast is burning
The rain’s like nails, and our harbor’s lost
And the compass spins and turns, O.
Now the darkness comes, and the stars above
Circle ’round like sharks at sea, O
Instead of fighting for our lives
We should be sitting at our ease
But I chose the strife of a sailor’s life
And the ocean, she chose me, O.
The wind, it howled, and the thunder boomed
Thought the storm might just prevail, O
But we shouldered on ’til the break of day
And we tamed that fearsome gale
Held to courage and to honor
And we lived to tell the tale, O.
No, you don’t know a storm ’til you ride the wind
Beneath cold and blackened skies, O
’Til you’re sailing through a thunderhead
With the lightning in your eyes
Death, he laughs in the sails and the jags
And the bloody sun won’t rise, O.
Acknowledgments
Special thanks to Jeff Grubb, Scott McGough, and David Wilson: three exceptional companions in this journey through the history of Lion’s Arch. Your invaluable input, insight, and patience have made Tyria—and this book—come to life.
About the Author
Ree Soesbee is an award-winning writer, game designer, and author of more than sixteen novels in a wide variety of fantastic worlds, including the ever-popular Dragonlance saga. She is a member of ASCAP and the Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America, and has been nominated for multiple Origins Awards. Ree currently works professionally as a narrative designer for ArenaNet on the internationally acclaimed MMORPG, Guild Wars 2.
Her credits include traditional pen-and-paper RPGs such as Star Trek, Deadlands, World of Warcraft, and 7th Sea. She worked as lead writer for Legend of the Five Rings (both CCG and RPG) and was a primary designer for the Warlord CCG.
Ree holds a master’s degree in Myth and Literature, performed her doctorate studies at UNC–Chapel Hill, and now lives in Seattle, where she spends her time writing, playing RPGs, MMORPGs, and LARPS, and being handmaiden to the Grand Adventuress of Cats.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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ISBN 978-1-4165-8962-4
ISBN 978-1-4391-5605-6 (ebook)
Contents
Map of Tyria
Act One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Act Two
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Act Three
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Act Four
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Acknowledgments
About the Author
