“You set a fine table, captain,” Nellise remarked as the steward served up the individual portions.
“It is a simple meal,” Sir Denholm replied deprecatingly, “hardly fit for royalty, but it represents the best parts of what we managed to bring on board before the attack on Culdeny. Travis, would you fetch the bottle from my cabinet and four glasses, if you please?”
“Certainly, sir,” the steward said with a surprised expression as he turned to the cabinet and retrieved the requested item.
“I had planned to uncork this at the end of the war, but I think this a far more auspicious occasion,” Sir Denholm explained, gesturing to the steward to pour the wine. “I take it from the two empty seats your companions are indisposed?”
“Sayana is still quite seasick, Sir Denholm,” Nellise explained, “and so, as a healer, I took it upon myself to offer what relief I could. Both she and Pacian will sleep very well tonight.”
“A rest well earned, no doubt,” Sir Denholm remarked, lifting his glass. “A toast, to living another day and to friends and comrades lost.” Aiden and the ladies lifted their glasses and then took a sip of the wine. It had a smooth, smoky flavour to it, far better than the simple ales he had drunk in times past. They ate in silence for a few minutes, save for the clinking of cutlery on the plates before the captain spoke again.
“So, tell me, Miss…” he said to Nellise, prompting her to tell him her last name.
“Sannemann,” she replied, after swallowing her mouthful of food.
“Miss Sannemann, is it?” Sir Denholm continued, sipping his wine. “A curious name I’m not familiar with. Does your family originate from Aielund?”
“No, they came from the south of Feydwiir, from the Grand Duchy of Kurhain,” Nellise explained. “My mother met a priest of Kylaris when she was younger, and was very taken with the religion. I think that, more than anything, prompted her to make the journey to Aielund to learn more about the faith.”
“A woman of the cloth,” Sir Denholm mused. “A faith you share, judging by your choice to join the Church. I am curious, however, as to how you ended up in the middle of a war, wielding a crossbow and clad in steel? Hardly fitting attire for a member of the clergy.”
“Many people were caught up in the middle of the conflict,” Nellise responded delicately. “I hadn’t intended to take up arms when first I set out with Aiden and the others to help the Kingdom, but as the situation deteriorated, I felt the need for greater protection.”
“And to strike down your enemies from afar, no doubt,” Sir Denholm added. “I do wonder what your superiors in the church would make of your choice to fight alongside soldiers in battle. As I recall, the Resolute Heralds do not consider such actions appropriate to their chapter.” Aiden stopped eating and the table went absolutely silent, and all eyes turned to Nellise as she carefully placed her cutlery onto the table
“I felt it was my duty to assist, in whatever manner I could,” she explained in a voice that grew in outrage as she spoke. “I did not make this decision lightly, captain. I saw friends and companions die before my eyes, and I was raped by the savages we sought to stop from rampaging across the countryside. I tell you honestly, sir, I only regret not having learned to fight sooner and with greater skill, for I might have prevented all of that from occurring had I been stronger. My naivety in the true workings of the world resulted in death and suffering, and I will never again allow that to happen!”
With that, Nellise left the table and stormed over to the door with clear intention to leave, but Sir Denholm stood and addressed her.
“Madam, forgive my impertinence, I beg you,” he asked of her. “I did not fathom the full scope of your ordeal, nor should I have so hastily judged your actions. My concern was only for your future in the Church, for they will surely ask these things of you, with far less forgiveness for any perceived transgressions of the rules than I. Please stay, and forgive an old fool his short-sightedness.”
Nellise hesitated near the door, her eyes red-rimmed on the verge of tears, but she nodded and returned to her seat.
“I may be a little more emotional than I should be, so I beg your indulgence, friends,” she said, her voice only slightly more than a whisper.
“Quite understandable,” Criosa comforted her, giving the captain an arch look in the process.
“We shall not speak of it further,” Sir Denholm assured her. They settled down and continued eating, the silence only slightly unbearable.
“So, Captain,” Aiden began, attempting to fill the void. “You mentioned Aielund won that last sea battle with Tulsone. Does this mean our side has made major strides towards victory?”
“Quite so,” the captain replied, seeming quite relieved for the change of topic. “With the sea lanes under our control, we can ferry supplies and reinforcements to the war zone without fear of harassment from Tulsonite forces. This bodes well for the campaign, Your Highness, and for your father’s continued survival.”
“I am both pleased and relieved to hear that, Sir Denholm,” she breathed. “Have you further news regarding his progress?”
“I heard only of a major engagement near the capital city, Lanfall,” he responded, “though I was informed that a victory there was inevitable. Forgive me, Highness, I am not the most informed person at this time. I know only that the situation is fluid, and we have given His Majesty a fighting chance to achieve his aims, whatever they are.” Aiden pondered this statement for a moment, before the captain continued. “You disapprove of this war, Mister Wainwright?”
“I don’t even know what it’s about, so I can’t really judge, can I?” Aiden answered, a little harsher than he had intended.
“Come now,” Sir Denholm chided him, “though you are uneducated in matters of strategy or politics, you seem to be an intelligent young man who has survived a major battle. Were you not able to deduce, sir, the reasons for that conflict?”
“It had something to do with seizing Criosa and taking control of the port,” Aiden said, “though I would have thought they could accomplish this task with far less bloodshed and sneak her through instead.”
“And yet they did not,” Sir Denholm stated. “They assaulted the town with an entire company of mercenaries and a dragon no less. What then, does this tell you?” Aiden stopped chewing his food for a long moment as he pondered this.
The total destruction of the town made no sense to him, for there was nothing to be gained, so it was likely that Ronald Bartlett, proprietor of the North Shore Trading Company, as well as the other men behind the conspiracy were looking to financially benefit from the sacking of Culdeny.
“Let’s assume they didn’t mean to destroy the entire town,” he postulated. “After the attack, the princess would be shipped off and large sections of Culdeny would have to be rebuilt. Bartlett’s company controls the shipping, and with the dragon holding the mountain pass, everything except lumber would have to be brought in on ships. They would stand to make a fortune.”
“But Ronald was a wanted man,” Nellise remarked. “I’m not sure he’d gain much benefit from inside prison, once he was caught.”
“He’s from a wealthy family, with connections throughout Fairloch,” Criosa explained. “Although he hadn’t planned on being discovered as one of the perpetrators, I’m sure others would still gain from this travesty.”
“Very good, Your Highness, and you are quite correct as well, Mister Wainwright,” Sir Denholm complimented. “Now, if you would be so good as to apply that same clarity of thought to His Majesty’s campaign, I’m sure you will see things a little more clearly.”
“The diplomatic overtures toward Tulsone indicate they were trying to negotiate for something,” Aiden stated cautiously, “but these talks obviously failed, prompting His Majesty to attempt to take something from them by force.”
“We’ve always been at odds with the Tulsonites,” Criosa remarked, “so unless the deal was favourable to them, they were always going to refuse any sort o
f diplomatic effort.”
“They are an intractable bunch,” Sir Denholm added brusquely. “But what does that tell you, Mister Wainwright?”
“They have something the King needs,” he surmised. “And they don’t want to give it to him. Given these few facts, it’s clear to me the action isn’t motivated by profit, and since most of the fighting has taken place deep inside their borders, I can assume this fight isn’t over the contested lands to the west of the Calespur Ranges either.”
“Quite so,” Sir Denholm agreed, finishing off his plate. “So it is neither profit nor land that His Majesty is fighting over. What do you make of that?”
“I don’t know,” Aiden shrugged after pausing for a long moment to think. “I can’t think of any other reason, given the available facts.”
“Well, it’s a start,” the captain mused, sipping his wine and giving Aiden an appraising look. “I have met the King on several occasions, and by my measure he is not one to start a war over trivialities. He is a practical man, perhaps even a driven man, but he is not a crazy man, sir, and so it falls to us, his subjects, to trust that he is in full command of his faculties and support his effort however we may.”
“You are well spoken, sir,” Criosa said, beaming at the captain. “I feel better knowing that men such as yourself stand with him in this time of need.”
“You might think differently were you to meet some of the other officers I have served with Highness, but your compliment is well received,” he responded ruefully. “And now I must, regretfully, call an end to this delightful evening, as my duty compels me to see to the proper functioning of my ship and crew.”
“Thank you for the lovely meal,” Criosa replied. Aiden had just finished his plate, as had Nellise, so they stood with the intention to leave before being stopped by Sir Denholm.
“I would say one last thing to you, Mister Wainwright, and it applies to you also, Miss Sannemann. The people responsible for the kidnapping attempt and the attack on Culdeny clearly have access to vast sums of money and connections within the nobility. You have comported yourselves well on the battlefield, but if you seek to uncover this conspiracy, you will not be facing armed soldiers, standing against you with swords in hand.”
“You will be walking the streets of the largest bastion of civilisation in Feydwiir, where your naivety will be your greatest weakness. Those you seek will wear pleasant faces and speak honeyed words, but will move against you behind the scenes. Of those you meet in Fairloch, there is no telling who will be working for the King, and who will be attempting to stall your investigation. Choose your friends wisely, sir, or you might awaken one morning to find a dagger in your back.”
“Thank you for your warning, captain,” Aiden replied grimly, wondering what he’d gotten himself into.
“Well, enough of such things for now,” Sir Denholm said, standing up. “Get some rest and I’ll do my utmost to see you to Fairloch as quickly as possible.”
“Goodnight, captain,” Criosa said, leading Aiden and Nellise out into the hallway.
Chapter Two
It was a very different sound that jolted Aiden awake this time, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if it had been real or part of a dream. Faint grey light filtered in through the porthole, hinting it was sometime after dawn and he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d heard a muffled scream from nearby. He lay perfectly still for a long moment, listening for any unusual noises, but heard only soft snoring from Pacian, the creak of the rigging, and the lapping of water against the hull.
A feeling of dread welled up within, for something seemed wrong. Tossing aside his blankets, Aiden rose to his feet and pulled on his trousers. As he strapped on his boots, he detected a faint scuffling sound from out in the hallway. Moving to the door as quietly as possible, he pressed one ear against it, hoping to confirm what he had heard, and was alarmed to hear the sounds of a struggle outside.
Wishing he hadn’t left his sword on the highway outside of Culdeny, he carefully opened the door, unsure what to expect. The lantern hanging just outside of the ladies’ cabin had been covered, and the marine was slumped against the wall, unmoving. A large, shadowy figure wearing baggy clothing could be seen right next to the man, but more importantly, in his right hand was a cutlass, drawn and ready to strike as the man leaned back and kicked in the door to the ladies’ cabin.
A bright light shone from within, causing the big man to flinch at the sudden brightness. Aiden could see that he was definitely a sailor, though he couldn’t recall seeing him on deck the previous day. Aiden gritted his teeth and prepared to leap to the defence of the women, when a shining battle-axe suddenly lodged into the sailor’s chest, throwing him back against the wall. He slumped down to sit opposite the marine, bleeding to death.
Sayana appeared in the doorway, reaching down to pull the axe out of the dead sailor’s chest. At that moment, the ringing of a bell began echoing through the ship and a cry of alarm went up.
“Boarders!” shouted one of the ship’s crew from nearby, and all hell broke loose aboard the Redoubtable as men started yelling commands and scrambling to respond to the alarm.
“Are the crew attacking us?” Sayana asked, looking bewildered at the sound of the bell.
“We’re being boarded,” Aiden responded as the sounds of the ship’s crew could be heard thundering on the boards above them. Nellise crouched and checked the marine for signs of life, but shook her head at Aiden’s inquiring gaze.
“There is a ship alongside us!” Criosa called from within their cabin. Peering around the doorway, Aiden could see her pointing out through the porthole at the hull of a ship pressed against the starboard side of Redoubtable. Several sailors brushed past Aiden in the hallway, leaping over the two bodies lying on the floor and heading for the stairs. Criosa noticed this and reached for her rapier.
“Don’t even think about getting involved,” Aiden ordered, forgetting for the moment that he was addressing a princess. “Stay here and barricade the door, all of you.”
“I’d be more use in the fight,” Sayana complained, trying to hide the fact that she was still a little unsteady on her feet and off-colour from seasickness.
“You can’t leave Criosa here to fend for herself,” Aiden told her sternly. Her answer was drowned out by the sound of dozens of men roaring their battle cries, and the clash of steel upon steel as the Redoubtable was boarded en masse.
“Perhaps I’d better not become embroiled in this fight after all,” Criosa said, changing her mind. As Aiden reached down to pick up the fallen marine’s cutlass, he noticed her hands were shaking.
“I’ll come with you, Aiden,” Nellise declared, hefting her repeating crossbow. “I won’t stand by while others risk their lives.”
“Okay, I’ll stay down here in case they get through,” Sayana relented, sounding both annoyed and relieved at the same time. Aiden nodded and gestured for Nellise to follow along. They ran along the corridor and up the stairs, almost bumping into other sailors rushing outside to engage the enemy in close-quarters fighting. When they emerged onto the main deck, a scene of chaos lay before them.
A heavy mist surrounded the ship and the sails hung limply from the masts, for not a hint of wind could be felt. The deck before them was crowded with the crew of the Redoubtable, bearing cutlasses and facing off against many sailors boarding from another vessel alongside.
The other ship was smaller and bore the flag of the skull and crossbones raised above its mainsail. Captain Sherrard emerged on the upper deck and took stock of the situation.
“Mister Masterson, clear my deck of these vagabonds!” he roared. “Marines, climb aloft and snipe the enemy! Everyone else, into the fray and may God help us!”
The crew organised a defensive line, and the clash of steel on steel echoed through the misty air. Arrows flew in both directions as the royal marines picked off the enemy one by one.
“I need a higher position to support them,” Nellise cried, taking the stairs two at a
time, while Aiden spoke the brief incantation that summoned his shield of force, a nearly invisible circle that hovered just in front of his left hand. Lamenting that in his haste, he had forgotten to don armour or a tunic, the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end as the air around him felt charged.
A bolt of lightning crackled across the deck, blasting a good portion of the crew and stunning a few of them for several seconds, resulting in their deaths mere moments later as the enemy cut them down. Aiden looked about frantically for the source of the lightning and saw a plainly dressed man on the enemy ship watching the proceedings with keen interest.
“Another bloody wizard?” Aiden uttered in disbelief, setting aside the thought of what such a man was doing sailing with pirates. “Nel! Shoot that one!” he called to the cleric. She spotted him and levelled her repeating crossbow, loosing a bolt which struck the mast just next to him.
“Blast!” Nellise muttered. “The ship’s movement is making this hard.” She was then forced to duck behind the rail as pirate archers sent arrows in her direction.
“Let me try,” Ronan offered, crouching next to Nellise with a short bow. He loosed an arrow which almost struck the wizard in the chest, only to be deflected by a layer of spectral armour protecting his body.
“That’s cheating,” Ronan muttered, loosing another arrow at the wizard for good measure before ducking behind cover once more. Sayana, wielding her ancient dwarf-crafted mithral axe, suddenly emerged from the ship’s interior, taking in the scene before her.
“What are you doing here?” Aiden asked, both confused and relieved to see her.
“Pacian told me he’d take my place,” she explained over the din of the battle. “He said I could just set fire to the enemy ship.”
In Defence of the Crown (The Aielund Saga Book 2) Page 3
