A Crown of Lilies

by Melissa Ragland

  The first warmth of spring had crept into the air when my parents’ letter arrived, delivered by a ragged dock boy who fidgeted and darted off down the street as soon as he received his copper. Augustus tore the letter open, eyes devouring its brief message before he passed it to me. Aubrey hovered behind me, reading over my shoulder.

  Elas is no longer safe. Return by the same means in which you left. The wolf will be waiting.

  My hands trembled as I read and re-read my mother’s elegant script. Unsigned, the low-quality paper had been sealed with a common courier’s brand. That she would write in cipher told me more than the words themselves.

  “Gather your things,” Augustus commanded grimly. “We leave tomorrow.”

  Chapter 11

  Lyra made her farewells the night before, tearing up a bit as she kissed us firmly on the cheeks, insisting that she couldn’t bear to see us off in the morning. At dawn, we hired porters to cart our trunks to the docks. Captain Russo and his crew were waiting, having brought the letter themselves. After exchanging a somber greeting, he saw to the loading of our belongings and we pushed back from the dock before the sun had cleared the horizon. Over the course of another three miserable weeks at sea, we learned from Russo what had passed in our absence.

  The King remained closeted in the palace. The royal physician and his family had returned to their home province of Caelin in disgrace. What few nobles dared to press for the King’s attention were viciously rebuked and chased from the halls. Yule had passed unremarked at Crofter’s Castle, and the Court was abuzz with speculation. Whatever was happening behind those walls, it was kept carefully contained. The babe was reported to be hale and healthy, though no one had actually seen him. He still had not been named.

  As for the other rumors, it was true that a great sickness had begun to spread in the winter months. First, livestock began to die. Then, children and elders. Then, entire villages. There was no pattern to it, pockets of illness appearing sporadically across the countryside. Fear had settled on the common people like a shroud. Physicians out of Caelin and Theria had gone to the affected villages, but neither the source nor the mode of transmission could be identified. Many of them died for their efforts.

  A vast migration of peoples, fleeing the violence in Dacia and beyond, streamed across the eastern border. Wagon trains of nomadic peoples wandered the countryside, received with a mix of pity and hostility, varying from place to place. Many believed it was the gezgin, as they were called, that brought the illness. Others believed it was poison, and turned on their neighbors. Whatever the cause, thousands had died, and more were likely to follow.

  When we drifted into the Bay of Brothers, filthy and grim, I felt the first minuscule ray of hope in a long while. There, at the far end of the immense wharf, a cluster of familiar ships sat docked. Clutching the railing, I strained my eyes to scan the crowds. The sapphire ring, strung on a chain beneath my clothing for the last year, burned hot against my chest.

  There. I spotted him, sleek black hair shining in the midday sun. I could feel his eyes find mine, and my heart leapt into my throat. The deckhands couldn’t move fast enough to secure the lines. Still in my tunic and breeches, I leapt over the railing as he had done so many months ago, weaving my way through the bodies on the dock. Then he was there, wrapping me in his arms as I buried my face in his chest.

  “Elivya,” he breathed into my hair. I clung to him as dock hands settled the gangplank into place.

  “Eleven months and you couldn’t wait two more minutes?” Aubrey’s annoyed voice called from behind me. It made us both laugh, but our levity was short-lived as Augustus ambled over, porters close behind with our belongings.

  “We need to move,” he pressed. Adrian nodded and paid for a cart to deliver our trunks to an address in Petrion. Horses waited for us on the wharf, along with a modest carriage for Augustus. We followed his lead through the labyrinthine streets of the port city, arriving at an elegant stone house with a tall iron gate. The Van Dryn sigil marked a banner over the entryway, a white nautical wheel atop a field quartered by silver and blue. Inside, I reveled in the sight of long-missed luxuries, ample rooms well-appointed with plush couches and ornately carved tables polished to a gleam.

  “Samuel will show you all to your quarters. Baths and fresh clothes have been prepared for you. Take your leisure, and we will reconvene for supper later.” At his direction, a well-groomed chamberlain guided my three travel-worn companions off into the house. Adrian took my hand. “And you, come with me.”

  His private quarters were spacious and comfortable. He led me through them to an adjoining privy, a large copper tub steaming invitingly. A young handmaiden bobbed a curtsy as we entered, and began helping me undress. Adrian backed out of the room, flashing me a smile before pulling the door closed behind him.

  I had not been attended so in many months. I’d forgotten what a luxury it was. Once my rank garb was stripped from me, I sank into the hot water with a satisfied sigh. Deft hands patiently scrubbed every inch of me, fingertips massaging my scalp and working the salt-crusted mats from my hair. Rose oil was lathered into every strand, softening and scenting my long sable locks. I thanked her afterward as she helped me into a dark blue silk robe and opened the door for me.

  Adrian waited, sitting at the small writing desk at the far side of the room. His eyes lifted to me as I entered, quill stilling in his hand. “Better?” he asked with a smile.

  “Much.”

  He turned back to his desk and scratched a few more words before blowing on the ink and setting the missive aside. My heart raced as he crossed the room to me. Something about his countenance had changed in the year gone by. His youthful spirit had been tempered by a weight I could not divine, lending him an air of maturity and solemnity that served as a stark reminder that he was nearly ten years my senior.

  “Are you alright?” I asked him quietly, one hand finding his face. He looked tired, worry-worn.

  He grabbed my hand gently and pulled it to his lips, kissing my fingers. “Just some business.” His eyes caught the glint of the chain around my neck, and he pulled it from beneath my robe. The sapphire ring dangled between us, catching the light. “I worried you’d lost it.”

  “Too dangerous to wear it openly, in Atenas.”

  He nodded, undoing the clasp. “Now that you’re home….” He slipped the ring off its silver links and back onto my finger.

  “I’ve missed you,” I confessed to the air between us, my voice cracking.

  He cradled my face in both hands and kissed me, long and deep. We made good use of our few hours of respite before dinner. Hands and lips relearned every inch of skin, every scar. Time and distance had cooled the urgent edge of our passion, leaving behind a mix of patience and reverence.

  The gown he had made ready for me was one of fine cotton, midnight blue to match his own doublet. I was to be his wife, and he meant to ensure there was no uncertainty of my place at his side. When we joined the others for dinner, Quintin’s brow twitched a bit, his disapproval carefully concealed. Augustus bowed graciously, thanking Adrian for his hospitality. With the niceties out of the way, we tucked into a decadent meal and exchanged stories of our year apart.

  The ocean had been a riot of activity. Shiploads of refugees from Rume and Makednos were fleeing across the White Sea. Many made for Kortas or the Islas Kledes, but some pressed farther west into our waters, heading for Syraci. Pirates found them to be easy prey, overloaded with civilians fleeing with anything of value. Adrian and his fleet had done what they could, but the White Sea is vast. Many times, they had come across the ghostly aftermath of such raids, ships silently drifting on the waves with their gruesome cargo. Women, children, all slaughtered without prejudice, and while Adrian and his fleet returned to port time and again to offload those who could be saved, the predators took advantage and raided the more valuable merchant ships.

  One hand raked through his ebony locks, the frustration of it clear on his face. “I c
annot be everywhere at once.”

  “Could you send to the King for reinforcements? The Navy certainly has ships to spare,” Augustus suggested.

  A bitter smirk flashed across Adrian’s face. “I have. Twice.” He appeared to bite his tongue on a plethora of additional comments.

  It was an overwhelmingly impossible situation. When we retired for the evening, he spoke more candidly to me alone. Pulling at his hair, he paced the room. “If I split my forces too much, I’ll lose ships. My men are more than capable, but I can’t send them outnumbered against those savages. And the trade guilds are up in arms over their losses, of course.”

  “What do they expect you to do?” I commiserated from my seat on the bed.

  “They expect me to ignore the refugees and guard their interests first.” A year’s worth of pent up frustration made its way into his voice.

  “And what does your father say?” I asked diplomatically.

  A harsh laugh escaped him. “My father would have me let them all drown. ‘Family first’,” he mimicked Lord Yuri bitterly. “As if those ships weren’t filled to the forecastle with families.” He ceased his pacing and turned his tortured gaze to me. “Children, Elivya. And the women…. I’ll not haunt your dreams with those stories.”

  “I am not ignorant to the cruelties of men,” I reminded him stiffly. My mother had made sure of that, my own experience notwithstanding.

  “I know, I know.” He slumped down on the bed beside me, staring miserably at his hands. “I know what it is they expect of me, but I simply cannot turn a blind eye. I won’t.”

  I slid off the bed and stood, pressing myself between his knees. Taking his face gently in my hands, I lifted his eyes to mine. “Because you are a good man, Adrian,” I impressed upon him. “And because it is the right thing to do.”

  His eyes glistened at me, full of desperate yearning. He needed so badly to have someone, anyone, on his side. I lowered my lips to his, and he clung to me like a drowning man. That night, I healed as best I could the fractures that plagued his soul. All his frustration, his helplessness, his loneliness, I took into myself. It was a battleground of flesh, brutal and grasping, and when the smoke cleared, the storm in his eyes had subsided.

  I watched him as he slept, black silk hair sprawled across his pillow. My heart ached. I didn’t know how to help him. What I could do, what I would do, was be a pillar of strength for him. I wouldn’t let him see my fear, my worry, my doubt. Those, I’d keep buried deep. My parents would have a plan. We could turn this tide. I had to believe it or risk despair, so I did and at length, slept.

  We lingered a week in Petrion. Even that was an exorbitant luxury. It meant a week without Adrian’s ship and its two escorts protecting the coastal waters. The rest of the fleet was already on patrol, but their numbers were insufficient to the task, and lacking even three ships was a crippling handicap. I mentioned our previous plans for me to join him at sea. His firm refusal brooked no argument. An already dangerous profession had become even more treacherous during our year apart. Though I had meant every word when I originally suggested the idea, I couldn’t help but agree. I was more use to my parents in Litheria, hopefully aiding them in reaching the King in his grief. The last thing Adrian needed was a novice sailor and a distraction aboard his ship.

  He needed me to tell him to go, so I did, even though every bone in my body rebelled against the words. I accompanied him down to the wharf, Quintin trailing us discreetly. This time, there were no shouts from ship to ship, no howls for the Sea Wolf. His reception was one of mixed tone. Some sailors saluted him from their posts, others mumbled to one another as he passed. He kept his back straight and his steps measured, but I could tell it ate at him. When we reached the far docks, I noticed one flying the Van Dryn colors, badly damaged and listing in the water as ragged civilians poured down the gangplank. Adrian placed a hand on the scarred wood hull, the way I might to comfort a spooked horse.

  A holler up to the forecastle brought a young but weather-worn captain down onto the docks to meet us. He clasped forearms with Adrian, who pressed him for a report.

  “We came up right in the midst of it, sir. Three of ‘em, two with their hooks in her and one standing guard. We were alone, but we gave ‘em hell. Sank their sentry right off, but took a few to the stern in the process. By Adulil’s grace, they didn’t hit our rudder, else I’d not be standing here.” A few hollow-eyed refugees stopped to touch his arm in thanks. He nodded and urged them on their way. “One of the boarding parties cut lines and peeled off to face us. We had the wind, but she was a much larger ship, sir. Barely scraped by on Brizo’s favor. The third cut and ran, but not before they set these poor bastards alight.” He lowered his voice, eyes flicking over the motley crowd. “We pulled as many as we could from the water, but… I’ll hear the screamin’ ‘til the day I die.”

  “Why were you alone?” Adrian demanded. “I gave specific instruction to patrol in pairs. Where was your escort?”

  “We’d come upon a capsized barge two days before. Captain Dmitri made for port with those we could salvage. I thought we could finish our sweep and rendezvous with the fleet.” He shook his head, looking very young. “Damned fool, I was. I’m sorry, sir.”

  Adrian watched him a moment before he jutted his chin at the ship. “You brought her back, though,” he said more gently.

  The haunted captain laughed humorlessly. “Managed a few repairs at sea and limped home, sir. Bailed water the whole way.”

  “And your crew?”

  His eyes winced. “Twelve dead, twenty-seven injured.”

  Adrian nodded gravely, eyeing the battered ship. “We’ll see her set to rights. You did well, Eric.” He gestured to the throng of dark faces around us. “These people are alive because of you.”

  No amount of praise could erase the shadows from that man’s eyes, but I saw him hearten as he looked around. “There’s something else you should know, sir.” He added, returning his attention to his commander. “A rumor, but a dire one if there’s any truth to it.”

  “Go on.”

  “The folk we rescued, they said they overheard some of the pirates during the attack talking about an alliance of some sort. Some heard mention of a pirate king taking control of the White Sea.”

  Adrian tensed in alarm. “Where is the rest of the fleet?”

  “Anchored off the southern coast of Erade, running small patrols like ours, as you instructed.”

  Grey eyes flicked to me.

  “Go,” I said. Stay, I shouted in my mind.

  He gathered me in a fierce embrace, kissing me ardently, and then disappeared into the crowd. I followed as best I might, and spotted him running up the gangplank. Orders rang out and were relayed to neighboring ships. Sailors scrambled, lines were cast off, oars run out. He raised one hand in farewell from the stern rail. I raised mine in reply, and then he was gone.

  I didn’t notice I was trembling until Quintin’s hand settled on my shoulder. “Come on, miss,” he murmured. Seeing my wheat-haired guardian bolstered me. He was always so damned strong. If he could be, so could I. Steeling myself, I took a deep breath, buried my fear, and set myself to task.

  At dinner that evening, we discussed our plans moving forward.

  “I’ll book us passage tomorrow on a barge back up the river,” Augustus intoned, setting into his supper plate with determination. With rowers laboring against the current, the journey back to Litheria promised to be a drawn out, tedious one.

  “No,” my voice rang out across the table, firm and resolute. Aubrey eyed me askance. “Quintin and I won’t be joining you.”

  His father looked up at me, surprised. “I can assure you, my dear, the journey upriver is much more comfortable than by carriage.”

  I could feel hard blue eyes on me. “We’ll ride.” Despite Aubrey’s and his father’s protestations, I held firm. I fear I left the dinner in a bit of a poor tone, but there was nothing for it. I would not be dissuaded.

  Quintin cau
ght my arm in the hall afterward, his brow creased in anger. “When were you going to mention this to me?” he growled.

  “That trip is two weeks and more upriver. I can’t wait that long. If we ride, we can make it to the city in a few days.”

  He shook his head in disbelief. Stupid girl. I could see the thought plainly on his face. “The road is dangerous! You’ve been gone a year, for Adulil’s sake! How can you not spare two weeks?”

  “Adrian needs my help,” I hissed at him. “I won’t sit lounging on a damn pleasure barge while he’s out there.”

  He straightened, schooling his face as he swallowed whatever scathing retort he’d held at the ready. “The King has refused his petitions twice. What makes you think he’ll even grant you an audience?”

  “If he won’t, I’ll find another way.”

  I thought he might continue to fight me, but he didn’t. After considering my stubborn countenance for a long moment, he exhaled his resignation and muttered, “I’ll be ready at dawn.”

  I passed a long, heartsore night in our lonely bed, his scent still lingering on the sheets and in the room. In the morning, I donned my sparring garb, stuffed my spare breeches and tunic into a canvas rucksack I pilfered from Adrian’s closet, and plaited my hair tightly. Aubrey and his father sat chatting over breakfast when we made our appearance. I was grateful they didn’t make one last attempt to dissuade me. Instead, they each wrapped me in a firm embrace.

  “Here, you’ll need some funds to purchase horses.” Aubrey pressed a heavy pouch into my hand. I had some remaining coin from our trip to Elas, but with a bit of extra, we could be well-outfitted for the road ahead.

  “Thank you.” I kissed his cheek. “I know you don’t like this, but I hope you understand why I have to go.”

  He tilted his head at me. “You think I’m any less eager to get home?” He smiled and squeezed my hands. “Leon will wait. I’m not sure your sailor boy can.”