The War of the Four Isles

by Andrew McGahan

  ‘A council was set for the eve of our uprising; to be attended by myself and my associated Heretics on the one hand, and by the War Master and the Mistress Superior on the other. It could not, of course, take place in either the Kingdoms or the Twin Isles, so it was proposed that it should occur upon the high seas. Five ships from our fleet would rendezvous with five ships from theirs, far from any shore or prying eyes.

  ‘So we went, in good faith – but when we arrived at the rendezvous point, we found no Twin Islanders waiting for us; instead we were set upon by a Valdez and Castille fleet that was lying in ambush.

  ‘They outnumbered us four to one; we were taken easily, and brought here. And for the sake of saving our lives, our leaderless fleets and armies stood down, and our subjects accepted – at least for now – the bitter fact of Castille and Valdez ascendance.

  ‘But the question is, who betrayed us? How did the Castille and Valdez fleet know where to find us, when the meeting was a secret shared only between ourselves and the Twin Islanders? And why were we the only ones ambushed? The Twin Isles ships never appeared. It was as if they knew not to come. And that leads us to only one unpleasant conclusion: that it was the Twin Islanders themselves who betrayed us, and who told Castille and Valdez how we might be taken by surprise.’

  Dow was shaking his head. ‘No, you must have it wrong somehow! Why would they betray you? You were their best hope of ending the war!’

  ‘Yes,’ said Benito, ‘by negotiated settlement. But what if Damien Tender didn’t want a settlement? What if he wanted the war to go on? In that case, it was in his interest to hand us over to Castille and Valdez – which is exactly what we think he did.’

  ‘But why would he want the war to go on?’ Dow demanded, honestly bewildered. ‘It makes no sense. And besides, he agreed to send the Snout on this mission to rescue you! Why would he help to put you in here, then try to get you out again?’

  The king spread his hands. ‘A question I’ve asked myself. But you can see now why we would hesitate to board your ship, if it came.’

  ‘But no one on the Snout had anything to do with what you’re talking about,’ Dow protested. ‘And you know that I didn’t!’

  Benito did not answer.

  ‘Actually,’ King Eugene said reluctantly, ‘we don’t know that at all. Not if the rumours that have come to us about you are true.’

  Dow stiffened, staring about the table. The kings and nobles all avoided his gaze uncomfortably, and Nell only stared fixedly at nothing.

  ‘What rumours?’

  It was Benito who answered. ‘The tale spread in certain quarters of the Kingdoms is that you have turned entirely away from the war and have forgotten even your own people. That you are . . . bewitched.’

  ‘Bewitched?’

  ‘By a temptress of the Laundresses.’ The king’s eyes on Dow were pained. ‘Little do we know of that female Order, to be sure, but they are feared as enchantresses and spell-casters, and the tale goes that you have become besotted with a young and beautiful laundress, and that because of her you have lost all interest in the war, and neglect your duties, and have spent these last years in idleness and luxury, and in debased pleasures of the flesh.’

  Dow in his mounting outrage hardly knew where to begin his defence. This was what they believed of him? This was what Nell believed of him? Her strange hints of the night before stood hideously unveiled now. ‘That,’ he said at last, ‘is a lie. Every word of it.’

  ‘Oh?’ enquired the Baron Nikolay, glancing at his niece, who still would not look at Dow. ‘This ship that you came on, the Snout – is there a laundress serving on it with you?’

  ‘Cassandra? Yes, but—’

  ‘Is she young? And beautiful?’

  Dow was blushing in his anger. ‘We are friends only, nothing more.’

  ‘But you and she have been together all this time? And through all the fighting you’ve been nowhere near the great battles? Even though they’ve been fought over your own homeland?’ The baron shrugged. ‘What else are we to think then – other than that you’ve abandoned all responsibility to be at ease with this Cassandra? And that you are in sympathy and league with her superiors; Constance Reed, and Damien Tender?’

  Dow’s mouth was open to refute all this, to explain that no, he hadn’t forgotten New Island, but that the Twin Islanders were keeping him away from his homeland until the time was right, and that he was in league with no one. But under the doubting gaze of the kings and nobles, and in front of Nell, suddenly it sounded an absurdly weak excuse. All he could do was muster his wounded dignity and say, ‘That’s not how it is. I’m under no spells, and I’ve fought the war as best I might.’

  ‘And,’ added Benito, coming belatedly to his assistance, ‘you are here, after all, having nearly killed yourself in the process, which does seem to contradict the other accounts.’ He considered the baron. ‘Nikolay, we must not be blind to the possibility that Dow has simply been slandered by his enemies. The lad’s injured pride says much.’ And now his gaze was on Nell. ‘Indeed, we all may have judged him too hastily.’

  Nell coloured, but said nothing.

  ‘Still,’ insisted the baron, ‘I would set foot on no ship of his, or of his laundress’s.’

  ‘You’d rather stay here and rot then?’ said Dow angrily, still smarting.

  ‘There’s no danger of that,’ replied Nikolay smoothly. ‘Even now we are in secret contact with the mainland, and our own loyal folk are preparing to liberate us.’

  Dow was taken aback. This must be what Benito had referred to in the vestibule earlier. Even so, he wasn’t mollified. ‘How do they intend to come?’ he asked scornfully. ‘Not across the Banks, I’m sure. Across the Millpond then? Through the fleets of Valdez and Castille?’

  ‘Ah,’ countered the baron, ‘but those fleets will soon be gone. In a month at most now the combined armada of the Kingdoms will sail for New Island, there to do battle. Few ships will remain even in the Millpond, and at some point over the summer, when the vigilance of our enemies wanes, our rescuers will strike.’

  Benito sighed irritably. ‘Yes – but I would give much if they would only strike earlier, before the armada sails, for then we might stop it going. As it is, even if the rescue succeeds, we will have missed a crucial season of the war. Escape will do little good if we escape too late! What if Carrasco and Ferdinand return victorious from New Island, covered in glory and stronger than ever?’

  Dow found himself sidetracked by curiosity. ‘Is such a victory likely?’ he asked. ‘When I met with Damien Tender, he saw no chance of defeat at New Island.’

  ‘I’m not surprised he is so confident,’ said the king. ‘So he should be. The position of our empire is desperate. And yet our spies report that confidence is also high in the courts of Valdez and Castille. They have hatched, it is said, a covert plan that will see the Twin Islanders beaten once and for all. We don’t know what that plan is, alas, only that our countrymen are so sure of victory that Ferdinand and Carrasco will sail with the armada to New Island this summer, and the puppet Sea Lords too, which is unheard of. And hence my impatience – for stuck here as we are, there is nothing we can do to prevent any of it!’

  A dispirited silence settled about the table, and Dow experienced suddenly the awful truth about life on Banishment: the uselessness of being there. It was worse than merely feeling left out of the war, as he always had while patrolling the Southern Reach; this was the more acute frustration of knowing that he and others around the table were meant to be at the centre of these great events, and yet weren’t. It was horrible.

  ‘Well, if we must wait, we must wait,’ said Benito at last. ‘But you I no longer mistrust, Dow Amber, so be welcome here. Sadly, we can offer you only a share of our imprisonment. If and when we are freed, perhaps there will be work for you. Until then,’ he added, with a pointed glance to Nell, ‘I advise you to seek comfort wherever you may.’

  The others, taking this comment to signal the end of
the council, rose. But Nell glared angrily at the king. ‘Seek comfort, Your Majesty? Fine advice, but if I despised the idea of Dow Amber lying in idle bewitchment with his laundress, then why would I welcome his idleness here?’ And so saying she stood – amid the embarrassed glances of the kings – and strode away across the hall.

  Dow stared a moment in shock, then rose to go after her, but Benito restrained him, ‘No, lad, take my advice and leave her be for a while. Obviously I’ve insulted her honour, and she won’t want you running after her right away. It would only prove me right.’

  The other Heretics were dispersing, and Nell had vanished. Dow subsided reluctantly, and Benito gave him a fatherly pat on the back.

  ‘Never fear, she’s glad to see you, whatever she might say. The thing is, I suspect she won’t let herself be glad. She’s so strict, you see. All the time we’ve languished here, she has refused despair and indolence, and instead studies medicine and builds boats. What she fears most, I think, is that she may become too comfortable in captivity. And now you suddenly appear, the one person with whom she has ever formed a bond. Any other girl would be happy. But Nell knows that to have the great Dow Amber in prison only strengthens the likes of Castille and Valdez. And the last thing she would ever do is take pleasure from something which weakens the cause for which she fights.’

  Dow frowned, working this information through, wondering if it could be so.

  The monarch shook his head wisely. ‘Trust me. If ever there was a girl determined to deny herself for the greater good, it’s her. I tell you, lad, until her cause – your cause too, I suppose – is fulfilled, you’re always going to have troubles of the heart with that one.’

  *

  Dow did go in pursuit of Nell soon afterwards – to say what to her, he didn’t know exactly – but by then she was nowhere to be found in the barracks. Nor could he find her when he ventured outside and stumbled about the stony slopes of Banishment.

  Exhaustion soon claimed him. It was only a single day since he had drowned, after all, and his ribs throbbed over his labouring lungs. He gave up. Let her hide if she wanted! His vision blurring, he staggered back to his room – her room – and stretched out on the bed.

  He’d meant only to sleep an hour or so, but when he opened his eyes again it was dusk, and someone was hammering on the door. It opened before he could answer to reveal Admiral Vasco. ‘Mr Amber, you are required urgently!’

  Dow only blinked stupidly at this at first, but soon enough he was up and following the admiral. Vasco led him out to the dormitory and then up the stairs to the second dormitory in the attic. A crowd of prisoners had gathered there, lined at the windows that faced south, looking out and pointing animatedly.

  Benito was among them. ‘Here, Dow, what do you make of this?’ he called.

  Dow went to the king’s window and gazed out. The attic stood just high enough to offer a view over the spine of the island; the Banks lay spread before him in the evening light. The tide had come back in as he’d slept; grey sea extended to the horizon, and there, perhaps a dozen miles directly south across the water, a small dark shape stood forth in the haze, its three masts just visible as upright lines.

  ‘If I’m not mistaken,’ said Benito, ‘your Snout has floated free of its sandbank.’

  Dow nodded in amazement. ‘But I don’t understand. Captain Fletcher swore he was turning for home, no matter what happened.’

  ‘It would seem he changed his mind.’

  Baron Nikolay was at the king’s side. ‘This changes nothing for us, Majesty. We are no closer to knowing if we can trust these Twin Islanders. And remember, our own folk will come for us when they can.’

  ‘I know it,’ acknowledged the king. ‘But too late. Too late. After the armada has sailed and after another battle has been joined and after thousands more are dead to no purpose.’ He glanced at Dow. ‘You might think it strange that I, king of an empire that in its time has slain many in battle, would baulk at a few more deaths. But there comes a point when the blood flows too thick even for a king, when too many are widowed and orphaned, and too many towns and cities are laid waste – and what good does it do anyone?’ He paused again. ‘I ask you to answer me in all honesty, Dow – do you think those on that ship out there are to be trusted? Are they honourable folk, who will do what they promise to do?’

  Dow felt the weight of the question, that the king would base his decision – balancing the fate of his hundred fellow Heretic prisoners, and so much more besides – on what Dow said next. And the answer he’d been going to give – yes – died on his lips.

  For could he really be sure of that answer, despite his delight at the unexpected appearance of the Snout? In all the sincerity of his heart?

  Had it been Captain Vincente out there on the ship, he wouldn’t have hesitated; or if Johannes was in command. They were honourable men. But Captain Fletcher, with his rum bottle and bitterness? Agatha Harp and Jake Tooth, with their grim silences and secret lobbying below decks? Colonel Oliver, with his red furious face and his bone-handled knife? Were they free of ulterior motives? Were they to be trusted?

  ‘Your hesitation is answer enough, Mr Amber,’ noted the Baron Nikolay.

  ‘I cannot speak for all their purposes,’ Dow said at last to the king, ‘but I can see no reason why in this they should not be faithful.’

  ‘A cautious answer,’ replied Benito. ‘What to do then?’ And watching on, Dow could appreciate the acuteness of the king’s dilemma – to wait for rescue by his own subjects, but too late, or to risk placing his trust in those whom he suspected had betrayed him once before, but by doing so reach his homeland all the sooner.

  ‘Your Majesty, there is only one choice,’ came a low voice from behind them. It was Nell, reappeared from wherever she had been. Her dark eyes drank in the ship as she stared out. ‘Whatever intent the Twin Islanders have, it cannot be worse than another hour of the impotence forced on us here.’

  The king nodded. ‘You are right, by all the infernal deeps. Admiral Vasco, take the boat and go and confer with this Captain Fletcher. Tell him to send his boats for us when the darkness is full.’

  Baron Nikolay was protesting. ‘But, Majesty, if we put ourselves in their hands—’

  ‘Enough, Nikolay. We cannot turn this chance down. Don’t you understand? We could be home in a matter of days this way – and end this war. I refuse to wait for far-off rescues. Take the boat, Vasco, and be away. You’ve heard what our scapegoat thinks, and you know the rest of the council will agree with her.’

  The baron bowed his head in resignation, and the admiral hurried off.

  Dow was studying the Snout. The masts were bare; they must be at anchor. And indeed, it was unlikely they could come any closer over the shallows, even if they wanted. But they were close enough. If the tide stayed high only a few more hours, then the escape could be made good. The prospect was a sweet one. Why then did all this feel like a mistake? Why did Dow feel that he should try to make Benito change his mind? Why did the Snout seem such a sinister shadow out there? What had changed about the ship?

  Nell was watching him. All the things he’d wanted to say to her earlier had vanished from his head. They weren’t relevant anyway, now that they were going to escape. Ah . . . but there were complications there, too. Cassandra, for one. He had forgotten all about Cassandra.

  Nell might have been thinking the very same. She said, ‘It seems I’ll be given the chance to meet your enchantress after all.’ Her tone was mocking, but was there a glimmer of apology in her eyes?

  ‘She’ll be interested to meet you too,’ was all Dow could say in awkward reply.

  Then they only stood silent with the king, staring out as the prisoners’ little boat set forth across the shallows towards the ship that waited in the oncoming night.

  12. ASSASSIN’S NIGHT

  By an hour before dawn the thing was accomplished. In two trips by the Snout’s three attack boats, the entire population of Banishment was taken
off the southern beach, the escape unseen and unsuspected by the guards on the north side of the island.

  Dow was on the last boat to leave, along with King Benito and Nell. It was, in fact, his own boat, the Franklin, but for now it was commanded by Johannes, who was overseeing the evacuation. The blacksmith greeted Dow with a great hug, and then bowed in delight to Nell as she came aboard with the king. ‘Ignella, girl – how good it will be to sail with a scapegoat again. I don’t miss much about my time with you Ship Kings, but I do miss that.’

  Ignella smiled in return. ‘Get us off this beach, Blacksmith, and I’ll happily be scapegoat even to this oddly named Snout of yours.’

  ‘Aye, it’s not the Chloe by any means,’ Johannes laughed, ‘but then I doubt even the Chloe could have done what we’ve done to get here. Are we ready all? Shove off then!’ And with that they were away, motoring swiftly across the shallows.

  By then the night was fading towards the coming day, and Dow gazed back anxiously at the silhouette of the prison isle. In these last moments, would they be detected? It seemed not . . . the beach remained empty, and no guards appeared on the ridge above to sound the alarm.

  What would they think, those guards, when they finally made the discovery? At some point they would notice the absence of activity about the barracks, and so would leave their tower and cross the narrow path over the reefs to investigate – only to find a deserted prison, its one hundred and twenty inmates vanished without clue or trace. What a mystery it would be!

  But even now, safely away, Dow took little joy in the thought; his forebodings had not left him. He turned and looked forward over the bow towards the Snout, waiting for them in the distance. A mystery in itself.