In Defence of the Crown (The Aielund Saga Book 2)

by Stephen L. Nowland

  “You don’t think I’ll be confined to the castle, do you?” the princess asked, her attention now fully focused on the captain.

  “It is not my place to speculate on the policies of my peers,” Sir Denholm replied hesitantly. “Given the situation, I would deem it a possibility, and a sensible one at that.”

  “That sounded remarkably similar to speculation,” Aiden commented, a half-smile on his lips.

  “I fail to see the resemblance,” the captain said without a hint of a smile on his face. “You strike me as having a little too much free time, Mister Wainwright. Woulfe, stop smirking like a buffoon and have Mister Wainwright assist you in scrubbing down the deck.”

  “I’m not a member of your crew, as such,” Aiden reminded him weakly.

  “There is no-one aboard my ship who does not fall under my command, for a captain at sea is a King unto his own realm,” the captain bristled. “You will follow my instructions sir, and damn your impertinence.” Criosa watched the proceedings with a straight face, although her eyes were dancing with mischievous glee, before the captain ushered her downstairs to prevent her presence distracting the crew.

  And so it was that Aiden found himself pressed into service in the King’s navy, if only for a little while. Ronan had the good grace not to comment on his ‘volunteering’, and merely threw him a scrubbing brush and set to work.

  He spent the next few hours washing down the decks and generally assisting Ronan in the smaller duties that occupied his time. Despite the hard work, Aiden actually seemed to enjoy it, for it took his mind off other matters for a while.

  The weather continued to remain mild, despite the lightning that danced on the horizon, and the battered ship made good progress as they passed along the southern edge of the small chain of islands known as the Stepping Stones. After a light lunch of biscuits and dried beef, Aiden found himself with spare time to stand on the rail and look out over the sea.

  The chill in the air became more acute as they approached the coast, and even at this distance it was plain that the ground was covered in a blanket of snow. Captain Sherrard, buried deep in his longcoat, corrected their course from his place on the bridge as the ship ploughed onward, aiming for a narrow channel of water in the midst of an inlet.

  The wind began to drop off as the Redoubtable sauntered through the channel, and Aiden’s breath began to mist in the air before him. In the distance, a large fort could be seen atop a hill to the north of the inlet, vigiliantly watching the entrance.

  Shortly thereafter, Criosa and the others appeared on deck, even Sayana and Pacian, who both looked somewhat improved from their extended rest.

  “Are you finished with your work already?” Criosa teased. “I was bringing your friends along to see your new vocation for themselves.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you all,” Aiden sighed theatrically. “It turns out that I’m just too damned efficient.”

  “Plus I did most of the work,” Ronan added laconically from near the rail.

  “Your Highness, perhaps you and your entourage would care to join me on the bridge for the final leg?” Captain Sherrard called down to them. “We should be arriving at Fairloch within the hour, if my calculations are correct. We are passing through the ‘fair loch’ of her namesake, ‘loch’ being the Olde Aielish word for ‘lake’, of course,” he added for Sayana’s benefit, who seemed to be confused by the description.

  “But we just came through an inlet,” Aiden pointed out. “Lakes are surrounded by land, are they not?”

  “Yes, it’s not actually a lake, in the general sense of the word,” Criosa explained. “It’s really more of a bay with a narrow entrance, so I’m not sure why they called it that, to be honest.”

  “I can answer that one,” Nellise chimed in. “When the first explorers arrived at the site of what is now the city of Fairloch, they saw what appeared to be a lake – or ‘loch’ in Olde Aielish - fed by a small river from the east, and failed to explore to the coastline until the name ‘Fairloch’ had been established for many months. By then, everyone was used to it.”

  “Fair loch,” the captain muttered, rubbing his hands together for warmth. “The irony of it is that you can rarely see the damned thing for the fog. Helm, two points to starboard.” The helmsman repeated the order and turned the tiller a little to the right. Looking around, Aiden could see that there was indeed a layer of fog forming over the surface of the water, shrouding their vision as it grew in thickness.

  Despite their reduced vision, the distant sounds of the city rang clearly over the calm waters - the incessant chatter of thousands of people, the clatter of wheels upon cobblestone streets, and, of course, the curious aroma that came with it.

  “I hope this place is more exciting than it smells,” Pacian remarked dryly. “Because it smells as exciting as taking a sh-”

  “Mister Savidge, watch your tongue, if you please!” Sir Denholm barked. “There are ladies present, so comport yourself appropriately or I shall have you confined to your cabin while we dock.” Pacian nodded, and then bravely glared at the back of the captain’s head when he wasn’t looking.

  After performing some slight course adjustments, the ship dropped anchor within sight of the shore.

  “Home at last,” Sir Denholm sighed, then turned to address their small group. “When you leave the confines of the Redoubtable, you leave my particular sphere of authority. I have concerns about the safety of the princess once you are ashore, for it has become clear that the reach of our enemies is considerable. My crew and I are under strict orders to repair the ship as quickly as possible and return to the front lines near Tulsone, so I charge you, Mister Wainwright, and your companions to see Her Highness safely to the castle, stopping for nothing and nobody.”

  “You really think there’s going to be danger here, in the capital?” Nellise asked dubiously.

  “We cannot rule anything out at this juncture,” Sir Denholm replied crisply. “Though the people of the city are generally fair-minded, there are more nefarious elements that may be involved with whoever is attempting to waylay our dear princess. Our adversary isn’t short on funds, and could well have bought half the scoundrels in this city to do his bidding - both those on the street, and those with influence in the upper echelons of power.”

  “My final advice is twofold. I do not believe you will be able to trust many within the City Watch, though it pains me to cast dispersions upon their honour. True allies will be hard to find, so I have a partial solution - Woulfe will accompany you.”

  “He will?” Aiden asked in surprise, as they all turned to see Ronan nearby, paused halfway through coiling up some rope.

  “I will?”

  “There’s nobody else who understands the streets of Fairloch better than you,” Captain Sherrard stated. Aiden wasn’t sure why this was the case, though had a feeling he was about to find out.

  “That’s just a rumour,” Ronan replied. “I’m just as clueless as the next man.”

  “Don’t play coy with me, sir,” the captain said, coldly. “I’m well aware of your past, Nighthawk. I would be a poor excuse for a captain if I didn’t know everything about the men under my command.”

  “‘Nighthawk?’” Aiden repeated, looking curiously at the sailor, who seemed to be ready to leap over the side of the ship at a moment’s notice.

  “I thought I’d covered that up good and proper,” Ronan muttered, turning pale under his tanned skin. “No-one’s called me Nighthawk in a long time.”

  “I’m not bringing this up to hurt you, Ronan,” the captain assured him. “But these are dangerous times, and men of your unique talents are rare indeed. They will have need of you, and frankly, I order you to go with them.”

  “Oh, well, when you put it that way,” Ronan replied sarcastically. “Look, I joined the service to get away from all that, Captain, and I ain’t exactly eager to face my demons.”

  “We all do what we must, Ronan. If you co-operate, I’ll do my utmost to see tha
t you are fully pardoned for your chequered past.”

  ‘I will see to it, Captain,” Criosa added, having remained a silent witness to this conversation until now. “Ronan, you have my word that your slate will be cleared. If you have some way of helping us, please do so - for the sake of the Kingdom?”

  “You might not be so quick to offer a pardon if you knew everything I’d done,” Ronan replied grimly.

  “A man is defined by his actions in the here and now, not by something he did in a previous life,” Sir Denholm declared. “I am a passing fair judge of character, and I’ve seen you change considerably from the man you were when you first came aboard. Whatever you did in the past, it is no longer who you are now.”

  “Don’t let them blackmail you, mate,” Pacian chimed in. “Do what’s best for you.”

  “This is a big decision,” Ronan remarked quietly, his head bowed in thought. “I need a minute or two to think about it.”

  “Take all the time you want,” Aiden offered, as the sailor walked towards the back of the upper deck to look out over the sea.

  “I trust he will make the right choice,” Sir Denholm assured them quietly. “I will see the longboat is made ready.” He issued orders to expedite their imminent departure.

  “I’ll go have a word with him,” Aiden quietly told the others, then strode casually over to where Ronan was deep in thought.

  “Y’know, it’s funny,” he said as Aiden leaned on the rail beside him. “I spent most of my life in the alleyways of this city, yet never ventured out onto the open sea before joining the navy.”

  “How is that funny?” Aiden asked, failing to see the humour.

  “Well, Fairloch being a port city n’all,” Ronan clarified. “You know, lots of water close by, yet I never ventured out in so much as a dinghy. I’ve come to love the sea, these past two years. It cleared my head, and helped me to see things differently.”

  “I don’t know what your past was like, though I gather it was far from pleasant.”

  “Yeah, wasn’t all warm and comfy like things are now,” Ronan replied dryly. “I’m just seeing the irony of finally finding a place I can be myself, and then being forced back into the underworld.”

  “Underworld?” Aiden asked. “Were you a criminal or something?”

  “Never convicted as such, no,” he replied with a wink.

  “I see. Well, no-one’s forcing you to do anything, regardless of what the captain said,” Aiden assured him.

  “I can read between the lines, Aiden. If I don’t do this, the cap’n is going to inform the authorities,” Ronan disclosed, his voice flat and emotionless.

  “Perhaps,” Aiden answered dubiously. “Captain Sherrard doesn’t strike him as a man who would sell out one of his own crew, regardless of past transgressions, particularly after he made that little speech about a man’s past not governing who he is now.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I love this Kingdom Aiden, and I do feel some small sense of obligation,” Ronan continued. “Naval life instils a sense of duty into you, after all. Besides, you and your friends would get lost in this city without a guide, and I’m the best there is.”

  “I think we’d get by,” Aiden argued, lying through his teeth.

  “If you’re investigating a conspiracy against the Crown, my guess is you’d all be dead within two days,” Ronan stated flatly. “And that’s being optimistic, because I really like you lot. It’s nothing personal, just that you’re all from the country and things work differently here in the big city.”

  “It sounds to me like you know the kind of people we’ll be dealing with,” Aiden observed with a wry grin. “The captain was right, you’d be an invaluable aide.”

  “I guess I’ve made a decision then,” Ronan sighed, turning to face Criosa and the others. “If anyone asks, you had to threaten me to join up. I have a reputation to maintain.”

  “I won’t mention to anyone how easily I swayed your decision,” Aiden quipped, finally drawing a grin from the laconic sailor.

  “Okay, you’ve got me,” Ronan said to Criosa as they strode back over to join them. “But I want a large pile of money for this, part of it paid in advance in the form of decent equipment.”

  “We have an accord, then,” Criosa beamed. “Aiden, you’ll need some equipment too, am I correct?”

  “Yes, Highness, it will be hard to defend you armed only with my… arms.” Her face light up at this news.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” she said, “we’re going shopping.”

  Chapter Four

  The longboat pulled alongside the navy’s designated jetty nearly ten minutes later with Aiden and the others crammed aboard, along with the captain and five sailors. Naturally, Aiden and Pacian had to do their share of rowing, for there wasn’t enough room for all of the passengers in addition to a full complement of sailors.

  Strong hands on the jetty helped bring the ladies onto the pier first, with Aiden climbing ashore just before the captain. Snow covered the wooden pier, and the sun was just resting on the horizon by this time, shedding a subtle orange glow through the thickening fog. The cacophony from the city was louder than ever, now that they stood amidst it, and it was a harsh sound indeed compared to the sounds of the sea Aiden had become used to.

  “This is where we part ways, ladies and gentlemen,” Sir Denholm told them, his voice crisp in the chill evening air as he disembarked from the longboat. “I must advise the admiral of the latest news and see to the repairs to the Redoubtable. I would, however, strongly advise against your course of action, Your Highness. Several attempts have been made on your life, and I hardly think it is fitting for you to go and buy a new dress at this time. Consider the officer’s attire you now wear as a manner of disguise, if you will.”

  “Forgive me captain, but I failed to notice many female officers on your ship,” she replied archly. “Am I to disguise myself as something that does not exist?”

  “Certainly not, I -”

  “Or do you believe that I pass for a man in this garb?” Criosa pressed and before Sir Denholm could speak further, accentuated her point by pulling aside her navy blue longcoat to reveal her shapely legs, tightly wrapped in white hose.

  “Your Highness, this is highly inappropriate,” the captain protested, averting his gaze.

  “Yes, it is,” Criosa agreed, “which is why I must attire myself properly before entering court. The scandal of a woman dressed as a man – and a naval officer at that – would follow me around for the rest of my days.”

  “Your point is well made,” the captain conceded at last, “though I find your methods of persuasion somewhat distasteful.”

  “Now you’re sounding like my father,” Criosa mused, not altogether pleased with the captain’s assessment. “Thank you for providing us with passage, Sir Denholm. I will send word to the Admiralty that you performed your duty above and beyond the call.”

  “I am grateful for your high praise, Your Highness,” he bowed. “I wish you all good fortune in your endeavours, and I think it goes without saying that if anything should happen to the princess under your aegis, I will personally see that you hang. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.”

  “Believe it or not, that was actually a joke,” Ronan remarked after the captain was out of earshot.

  “How can you be sure?” Nellise asked.

  “Once you’ve been around the man long enough, you pick up subtle things like ‘humour’ and ‘compassion’.”

  “We can talk some more about that later,” Criosa interjected. “The shops are closing soon, and I simply must get out of this uniform.” Aiden cast a quick look at Pacian, expecting an unsavoury remark and noticed he was struggling to keep his mouth shut.

  The enigmatic sailor led the way so Aiden figured they’d be able to find their way through the foggy streets of Fairloch without walking into a wall, leaving him to drink in the sensations of the largest city on the island of Feydwiir.

  People of all kinds strolled along the cob
blestone streets, though a fair number of them were fishermen, sailors, or other less-scrupulous looking individuals. Having grown up in a small logging community near the edge of the Kingdom – with a population of under two hundred – the bustling city was quite a shock. Ronan weaved amongst the crowds on the narrow street leading from the docks like an old professional, while Aiden was trying to figure out how to avoid bumping into oncoming traffic.

  Multi-storey houses and other buildings built from bricks or wood towered over the streets, as the dense population had been forced to build upwards in order to stay inside the city’s protective walls. The smell of the streets was a cloying mix of smoke, seaweed and refuse, and he could only hope the entire city wasn’t like this.

  After five minutes of wading through the morass of citizens, they arrived at a large gated wall, over twelve feet high and made of stone. The gate was open, and people passed through under the shrewd eyes of half a dozen men bearing stout clubs, and dressed in dark blue leathers covered in a tabard bearing the golden dragon standard of Fairloch - the men of the City Watch.

  Of their group, only Sayana was carrying visible weaponry, for Pacian’s daggers were hidden in the folds of his armour and clothing. Her mithral axe was on her back, barely noticeable underneath her pack and other belongings, yet Aiden was nervous about the prospect of the City Watch accosting them. He wanted to blend in with the crowd to help them avoid detection.

  Sayana seemed nervous, for her eyes were darting about frantically and her steps were uncertain as they approached the guard post. Fortunately, her small stature allowed her to pass by without notice, which was both a relief and a source of discomfort for Aiden. He wondered how many other people were carrying concealed weapons within the city walls. The potential perils of Fairloch’s streets were becoming more apparent, even at this early stage.