They were about to leave on their morning rounds patrolling the island of Triton. In spite of the handsome watchman, there was a moment Saija feared she had boarded the wrong vessel as there were many men aboard the ship that she did not recognize. The docks were full of unfamiliar faces as well, the sailor woman thought. The soldiers and sailors in Triton were multiplying daily. Just as she considered this, a new face appeared next to her.
“Are you new to Triton, too?” Saija asked, turning to the stranger.
“Aye, I just got in last night. Are you?” Caedmon asked.
“No, I’ve been here for a few months. We get more and more people here every day.”
He smiled. “Well, we are at war.”
Saija laughed. “I heard something like that…” She noticed the man was attractive, but with a brutish nose. He had probably seen a few fights in his time. She figured he was probably just another arrogant soldier with a temper.
“I’m Caedmon, from Pontos.” He stuck out his hand in greeting, and Saija obliged.
“I’m Saija.” She left out the fact that she was from Proteus. It was the home of a past that she would like to forget. She only spoke of her homeland when she was directly asked. Or with Murchadh once or twice. He was from the same isle.
“I’m looking for Brennus. Do you know where he is?” Caedmon asked.
“Yes, probably in the cabin. Why do you need to see him?”
Caedmon stood a little straighter, slightly raising his chest with pride. “I’ve been stationed on the Victory as a guardsman and I was told to report to him.”
Saija could tell this must be a change of pace for the man, judging by his sense of authority when he spoke of his purpose there. She smiled, happy with her own promotion as well, and the wealth it had brought her. She was in the lower-middle class now, which was a far cry from a sailor with only enough belongings to fill one canvas knapsack. She even had a small cottage in Triton that she took great care to make feel like home. Her father had had one quite similar and it brought her comfort to have a place to call home again.
“I’ll see you around then.” Caedmon smiled politely and nodded before walking towards the cabin to find his new captain.
Saija watched the man go. She sighed as she realized that she would never remember all of the new faces she was going to meet. When she worked on Brennus’ ship before, the crew had been like a family once they had gotten to know one another. Now it was as if they were a crew full of strangers. She walked to the edge of the ship and peered down at the dock below her. There were countless men readying their ship and others to leave port. She then turned and studied the sailors and soldiers on her own ship, each doing their specific jobs. They were all working together toward a common goal, protecting Thalassa. Saija scolded herself for thinking they were all strangers. We are family, she thought.
Xander
Xander stood in the eastern watchtower of Triton with his arms folded. The wind stirred his new cloak, blue with a yellow trim that matched the brass clasp fastening it around his neck. The brooch and cloak had been his sole gifts from Aldous when the constable was knighted by King Philip. After the first battle, a skirmish really, between the Gaians and Triton’s Guard there had been remarkable changes in the Thalassan archipelago.
Xander’s title as First Watchman of Triton’s Guard was short-lived, because there was really no such thing as Triton’s Guard anymore. The military presence on the island had multiplied immensely as a precaution, and as a result there were not just the grey and red cloaks that formerly inhabited Triton but rather a medley of colors representative of various houses of Thalassa. Triton lay closest to the mainland and so the king wanted the once-neutral-isle to be strengthened by an additional force of eight hundred men after Aldous’ fifty were made up and accounted for. The soldiers were still coming to fill those numbers, but Xander reckoned there were already over seven hundred men in the town.
Triton’s town itself had multiplied, with two small villages breaking off from the main town to the north. One lay just a mile southeast, and the other three miles southwest. They both were still developing but had established themselves as good little fishing communities. Each village had a magistrate of their own, knights from houses on other islands. One of them, Sir Robert, was of House Adliger. The same as Patrick. Xander had only spoken to Patrick's cousin twice but the thirty-five-year-old man appeared competent and was in constant communication with Thalassa’s heir.
Knights were something new as well, although the title had existed in days long past. Without Gaian influence King Philip had given new meaning to taking the ball and running with it. This old title was one of his newest fancies, though Aldous was the only man he had knighted himself. The rest belonged to houses, so instead of younger brothers and cousins bearing the name “lordlings,” they were dignified with a “Sir” before their first names. Aldous had taken his family’s colors as his own when he was knighted, but he remained in the king’s employ and so was technically not connected to his uncle on Varuna.
King Philip had decreed that each noble could only have three knights under him, probably to keep the payment smaller, and thus there were twenty-four knights now in his kingdom other than Aldous making up the twenty-fifth. Sir Aldous differed from the other knights simply in the amount of men in his household. Since his title was granted more out of appreciation for the small victory, King Philip had only replaced the twenty-six dead after the skirmish to give Aldous a household guard of fifty. Other knights each had three captains under them, each of which commanded twenty watchmen and eighty guardsmen. Since the knights all had the colors of their respective house, only Pontos’ watchmen wore the royal colors, as it had always been.
Now Xander wore a yellow-trimmed blue cloak, to distinguish him from the plain blue-cloaked guardsmen in Sir Aldous’ Guard. It was the same cloak as the rest of Aldous’ watchmen. Xander may not have been entitled as First Watchman anymore, but he still remained Aldous’ second-in-command. The respect was there. The coin was not. The transition had not affected his pay either negatively or positively, so he still wore his old leather boots, gray iron mail with plated leather straps protecting his shoulders, and possessed the same ugly nicked blade.
A ship came into Triton’s busy harbor and made its way between two docked ones. He could not tell whose it was, every ship looks the same from a distance, but it was nothing to worry about for it had come from the south. Even if the Gaians attempted another attack on the isle they would need at least a force of a dozen ships if they hoped to match those in Triton’s port. That was only when they were all accounted for though. There was nearly always one at each of the villages and another that would travel back and forth to Pontos to pick up any recruits that King Philip no longer wished to keep in his retinue. Others went on patrols along the waters northwest and northeast of Triton, so at any given time there was most likely to be seven vessels docked at the town’s harbor. Still, Xander thought with relief, seven’s a lot more reassuring than one.
“I need to speak with Sir Aldous,” a man spoke from behind him. Xander turned from the view of the sea to see Owen, the man garbed in the gray and orange of his house was one of eight captains stationed on the small isle. “I was told to speak with you first.” His annoyance was evident.
“No bad tidings I hope,” Xander said as he looked at the man’s unwashed face. His black hair was unkempt and as scraggly as his beard.
“Unfortunately, I’m not reporting anything good today,” the captain said morosely. Xander knew the man could not be coming from the newly arrived vessel for that had just come in moments ago, and the flush of drink had crept onto Owen’s ears to tell their own tale of the captain’s delay.
Xander glanced back at the dock and found less vessels in port than usual. His heart sank. “Sir Aldous is in his manor.”
The captain gave a curt nod and walked back down the stairs from which he came. Aldous’ manor was actually the old embassy, redecorated with blue
and yellow livery to match his own. It was almost always busy now, with servants going about their chores and even a couple ladies-in-waiting who came to call on the weekends. Sir Aldous had his eye on one woman in particular, who was no beauty but her father was a jeweler. Xander knew firsthand how lucrative that business could be, and the former constable remained intent on a grand dowry in exchange for the girl’s homeliness.
Dusk began to settle its rosy glow over Triton’s streets and Xander sighed relief to leave his post. He took one more glance towards the eastern sea and listened as footsteps ascended the tower stairs to relieve him. The hatch to the tower opened with a bang and Xander swiveled to reprimand his replacement only to find Caedmon’s grinning face. He laughed and embraced his closest friend who shouted a rowdy greeting from the hatchway.
“What in the name of all the gods are you doing here?” Xander exclaimed. He touched the side of Caedmon’s grey cloak and chuckled. “Still a guardsman, eh?”
“At least I finally got moved,” Caedmon replied, acting hurt. “This is my station now. I’ve been transferred to be a guardsman on the Victory.”
“I know Brennus well!” Xander said. He was smiling wide. So Caedmon was stationed on Triton? Even the grim news Captain Owen brought Sir Aldous was dimmed by his friend’s presence.
“He seems capable enough.”
“Oh, he’s more than capable,” Xander replied. “He’s a good fighter. I think you’ll like him.”
Caedmon smiled. “He certainly likes to do things his own way. His cloak has some gold embroidery like a sun in the center. Lucky bastard.”
Xander laughed. “He’s earned it, my friend. The Gaians will soon learn to fear that vessel.”
“Now that I’m on it they’d damn well better,” Caedmon said with his usual grin. His blue eyes were illuminated to see his old companion. Triton’s newest guardsman looked much the same as ever, though his dark hair had been cropped shorter and his skin was already beginning to bronze by the ocean sun. “And look at you!” Caedmon shouted. He fingered the heavy chain that draped Xander’s shoulders and chest. “What is this, steel?”
“Hah!” Xander guffawed. “That would be far too expensive for my tastes. Silver my friend.” The Gaians in Vulcan remained the only bearers to the secret of steel in the world, as far as the young warrior knew. Even still there were some, even in Thalassa, who could afford those services and so possessed weapons and sometimes even armor of steel’s great strength and value.
“As if silver is much better,” Caedmon retorted. He stepped back to take in his friend’s appearance and nodded with a mischievous smirk. “You look quite the proper little lordling, Sir Xander.”
Xander blushed and attempted a forced laugh. In truth the only items of value he owned were Daemyn’s pistol and that chain, which Sir Aldous had so adamantly insisted he buy. The chain was a status symbol, used by many of the captains and ship commanders in Thalassa’s military, and even by some of the more impoverished knights. It had cost twenty pieces of silver to have the chain forged, a pound and four more ounces, which was a price Xander found ludicrous even though the jeweler insisted it was a bargain. He had once weighed the chain using Aldous’ scale and found it at just barely over twelve ounces, which left eight in the pockets of the jeweler. Not bad for a couple days’ work, Xander thought bitterly, but he could not hide the flush in his cheeks that betrayed to Caedmon he liked the symbol and indeed the status it brought him. Even if it was two weeks’ pay.
“When do you ship out?” Xander asked.
Caedmon laughed. “Trying to get rid of me already? I just got here! We probably won’t leave on patrol for a couple more days. Brennus wants me to settle in and get familiar with everything.”
“Ah,” Xander said. “Good. In that case I’ll be seeing you tonight at a tavern called The Saving Grace. The building is all timber, smells freshly cut. You can’t miss it.”
“Southside?” Caedmon asked. Xander nodded. “Two women at the dock tried to send me in that direction for a drink as soon as I got off the boat.”
“Still spreading more legs than a midwife?” Xander asked with a smirk.
Caedmon returned the smile. “I think they wanted payment. I’m not too into that. I heard I’ll find a lot less candidates for rutting here, though.”
“There are fewer servant girls here than Pontos has,” Xander replied with a shrug. A soldier joined them at the tower’s top and Xander briefly scolded the young man on tardiness. When Caedmon looked at his newly-responsible companion with apprehension Xander allowed a light chuckle. “I have lessons to attend,” he explained.
“We’ll talk more at The Saving Grace then, I suppose?” Caedmon said more as a confirmation than a question.
“Yes,” Xander replied, and followed his friend to the tower’s base.
Night had completely descended by the time Xander entered Sophia’s house. He grimaced when he saw the middle-aged woman standing with arms crossed next to her dining room table. The air smelled faintly of seared tuna and greens. The watchman’s stomach rumbled and for a moment he forgot his own impudence.
“Late… again,” Sophia scolded. “It’s every day with you, Xander.”
“I was trying but my replacement came late,” her student explained. He moved to stand beside the table and looked down at the book Sophia had retrieved for his lesson that day. Animals and Their Attributes: A Local Study… oh kill me now.
“Excuses!” Sophia shrieked. “Do you think I have nothing better to do than wait for you?” Xander did not answer and Sophia looked over his shoulder to the open bedchamber. “Does he think that, Ana?”
Ana strode from the bedroom and bit her lip, feigning puzzlement. “He does not seem to think of much other than food, Mother.”
Xander turned and looked at the young woman with offense but found he could not even pretend to be angry for long. Her hair had grown even longer these past three months, cascading to her lower back in waves of interchanging lights and dark browns. Her eyes were as he always saw them in waking dream, patterns of locked together browns that formed beautiful rings around piercing darkness. Her skin had gone paler in the winter months but her lips remained as full and pink as ever. Xander smiled and watched his Gaian friend blush.
“I left you a plate with tuna and salad if you want it,” Sophia said, exasperated.
“I’ll eat while I read,” Xander replied happily.
“By the gods, you will not,” Sophia said crossly. “I’ll have your mouth free of any muck when reading Adelio’s study of our world’s creatures.”
Xander sighed. “Yes, Madam.”
The reading was about as painful as it always was. Sophia could not seem to find a book more interesting than a cabbage. Xander only struggled over a few of the larger words, but Sophia barely had to help him this night and he was happy to finish. He ate the tuna with gusto and made a show of asking Sophia if Ana could go with him to the tavern.
*
“No, I didn’t say I wanted to be in a battle I said I was restless and needed some action,” Victor argued.
Xander laughed. “That’s the same thing!”
“This whelp wouldn’t last one hour at sea,” Arkouda snarled. He took a swig of mead. “Cause of death? Seasickness.”
“Oh I thought you were going to say I couldn’t fight,” Victor slurred. “I can fight. I’ve killed before.”
Arkouda looked at Xander and guffawed. “The pups think to lecture the wolves, you hear that?”
“He has fought before,” Xander said, cautiously so as to make no argument of the matter.
Arkouda was big. He had a barrel chest and arms like hams. He was a knight, though you would not know it to look at him. Despite his evident physical strength and weapons prowess, he dressed in a plain brown tunic with black pants. His cloak was brown, fastened at the neck with a brooch of silver and jet, about the only thing that gave away his status when he was not wearing his polished iron mail. Arkouda was of House Xiphos, fro
m the isle of Anapos. He was the thirty-five-year-old brother to Lord Thanos, and led three hundred men all of which were now stationed on Triton.
“Who’s your friend?” Arkouda asked, apparently just as willing to change subjects. Victor’s brown gaze found his cup of ale and he took a drink.
“This is Caedmon,” Xander said with a touch of pride. He had to speak loudly over the ruckus inside The Saving Grace. Ever since it had opened it was like releasing a dam. Hundreds of soldiers came to and fro day in and day out. The Saving Grace’s only competition was Triton’s older tavern, The Blue Dolphin. Dolphin was a tired place with cranky barkeeps. The Saving Grace boasted Stefan as its foremost barkeep, the only one in Thalassa who would have your drink prepared before you even ordered it.
“Watchman for Pontos?” Arkouda inquired. “What’s he doing here?”
Caedmon shook his head. “Guardsman, Sir, on the Victory.”
“Should be a watchman though, shouldn’t he,” Arkouda observed. He grinned wide, his teeth white and spaced in the nest of his brown beard. “He says little, but listens much.”
“If you knew him he wouldn’t shut up,” Xander explained. “He’s fairly quiet until that unfortunate event.”
“He studies the situation,” Arkouda said as though explaining Xander’s lifelong friend’s secrets to him. Caedmon just laughed. “I’m serious. I knew a man like you once.”
Xander smirked. “Here he goes.”
“Mind your tongue, turd,” Arkouda said with feigned belligerence. “It must have been about twelve or thirteen years ago. Back then we had proper wars, not just one little fight on an anthill that everyone gets in an upheaval about.”
Severance (The Sovereign Book 1) Page 24
