The Hope of Vitality, page 21
Nothing about her was what he would have expected from a queen, much less the mother of three children. Something about her didn’t add up, although he couldn’t identify it.
He frowned in bemusement, trying to make sense of it.
Rupert’s voice cut across his thoughts. “I think I know how we might secure the mast.”
He looked up to see the king lashing a long branch to one corner of the raft using vines. Then he secured the other end to the mast, most of the way to the top.
“That might work,” agreed Shulkahr.
The two of them repeated the exercise until the mast was supported on four sides.
“It only has to stay upright long enough for us to reach the island,” Rupert observed.
Shulkahr held up a makeshift tiller. “We can use this to steer the raft. It shouldn’t be hard to attach it.”
“How is the sail?” asked Rupert.
“As good as it’s likely to get,” Essanda replied. She didn’t look overly confident, but after looking at it closely, Shulkahr doubted he could have done any better.
Rupert eyed the weather. “The conditions look good, but the sun will be setting soon. Should we chance it now, or leave it until the morning?”
“We leave in the morning,” asserted Shulkahr. “And that’s final!”
Rupert stared at him. “Thank you for your opinion, Shulkahr,” he said pointedly. He turned to the others. “What do you think?”
“I’m hungry,” said Tasha wistfully.
“I am too,” agreed Essanda. “But it might be wise to wait until daylight. What do you think, Rupert?”
The king shrugged. “I’m of two minds. I’m looking forward to eating a proper meal, but I’m also weary. I suspect I’ll be better prepared in the morning.”
“Very well,” said Tasha with a sigh. “If the rest of you can wait, I can too.”
* * *
All four of them stood glumly at the water’s edge, staring at the other island. The sun had barely risen, but they didn’t need its light to tell them they should have set out the previous day.
The strong wind that sprang up in the night had whipped the waves into a frenzy. They didn’t have far to go, but in these conditions it would be dangerous folly to attempt any kind of journey on their makeshift raft.
Shulkahr knew he was being irrational, but he felt annoyed. “It shouldn’t have taken a whole day to build the raft,” he spat. “It was just my luck to be stranded with royal incompetents.”
The others glanced in his direction, but none of them chose to bite. That made him angrier.
He raised his hands heavenward. “Without me and my knife you’d be stranded here. I should have left you to starve!”
Rupert’s face had gone hard. “No one forced you to jump in after us.”
“If you’d had the sense to stay on the ship I wouldn’t have needed to.”
Stepping forward, the king planted himself in front of Shulkahr, glaring at him coldly. “Wherever this island is located, it’s well within the territorial waters of Castel. You’re in my kingdom now! You’ve given me more than enough reason to execute you. As king, it’s my right and privilege. Don’t push your luck.”
Shulkahr snorted. The fool had just admitted he was soft.
He’d heard more than enough. A sneer on his lips, he brought up both arms and lunged forward suddenly with all his strength.
He wasn’t nearly fast enough. Twisting lightly aside, the king thrust out a leg, using Shulkahr’s momentum against him.
The Ahran crashed to the ground. Before he could blink, a foot landed heavily on his neck, pinning him helplessly.
The foot ground his face into the dirt. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you.”
With his life on the line, Shulkahr realized he’d seriously misjudged this man. He’d mistaken restraint for weakness. He wouldn’t do it again.
It was his turn to exercise restraint. His opportunity would come if he was patient.
Forcing his body to relax, he quit struggling. “No reason,” he sputtered, barely able to speak with his face in the dirt.
Abruptly the foot was gone. Rupert stood back and let him get up.
He clambered to his feet, his face burning red.
The queen mistook his blush for anger. She stared at him with narrowed eyes. “Next time, if he doesn’t kill you, I will.”
He stared back at her. She meant it, and he didn’t doubt she would follow through on her threat.
His brows furrowed. Something about her wasn’t right—he was sure of it.
“Do you doubt me?” she growled.
He hastily broke eye contact, shifting his gaze to the ground. She soon moved away, ignoring him completely.
The rest of the day passed miserably for all of them. Fresh water was plentiful, but they had nothing to eat. And the hours wore away with no sign of the weather improving.
All of them were avoiding Shulkahr now. Improbable as it might have seemed, he had established a fragile bond with his former captives. That bond had been shattered.
He told himself only a fool would care what a group of captives thought.
They lay down around a fire that night, but Shulkahr couldn’t settle. He had the impression that none of the others were sleeping any better than he did.
As the hours dragged on, he tried to make sense of his inner churning. He knew the others saw him as behaving badly. What he couldn’t understand was why that bothered him. He concluded that he was being weak. It had been folly to allow circumstances to influence his thinking and behavior. For a brief time he had treated them as if they mattered. His fellow agents would mock him unmercifully if they knew. And he deserved it. He didn’t allow himself to think about what Bolnyk would have to say.
He managed to get some sleep in the end. It wasn’t restful.
In the morning the wind had eased, but the waves remained choppy. Noon came and went with only a minor improvement in the conditions. All of them were becoming impatient.
The king chose a moment when they were all together. “Are you willing to risk it?”
The princess and the queen both nodded.
He turned to Shulkahr. “Are you coming?”
A sharp retort rose to his tongue, but he bit it back. He nodded. “I’ll take the risk.”
The four of them carried the raft to the water’s edge and put it in. The princess held it while the queen retrieved the sail. Shulkahr attached the rudder. Then they climbed aboard.
Raising the sail was a tense moment, but it held together as the wind caught it. The raft rocked alarmingly, and they hastily sat down to improve its stability. Shulkahr had taken the rudder, and he steered in the general direction of the other island.
The further they ventured into open water, the heavier the swell became. A bigger than usual wave rolled toward them, and Shulkahr swung the rudder desperately, trying to steer into it. He was only partly successful. Smashing into the raft side on, the wave twisted it violently, almost swamping them. One of the four supports holding up the mast broke free, but the others held. The mast was now leaning to one side, but the sail continued to catch the wind. Somehow the logs were holding together.
“I’m not sure how many more like that we can survive,” said the king grimly.
No one else spoke.
Shulkahr peered ahead intently, trying to anticipate the next threat. He didn’t have long to wait.
It came in the form of a series of three huge waves, rolling inexorably toward them. This time he managed to swing the raft around before they arrived. The flimsy craft rose, creaking and groaning as the first wave swept beneath them. Then the second reached them. Tilting ominously, the raft twisted enough to leave it exposed to the full force of the third wave.
A giant wall of water smashed into the fragile platform. The vines that bound it together were torn loose, allowing several logs to separate from the rest of the raft. Two of the remaining mast supports broke free, bringing the mast crashing down. The sail fell onto the princess, almost launching her into the water. The impact broke the sail apart. Pieces of it began drifting away with the tide.
Huddled with the other passengers on what remained of the raft, Shulkahr stared longingly toward their goal. The island seemed so close. But it was beyond their reach.
Then the queen picked up a piece of the sail, and held it aloft. The king quickly followed her lead. The princess grabbed a third piece before it floated out of reach. All three of them knelt on the raft, using their bodies as masts.
Somehow the rudder had remained connected. Positioning himself beside it, Shulkahr fought the elements to steer them in the right direction. Slowly, sluggishly, the raft responded.
No further giant waves appeared to assault them. It was as if the ocean, having pummeled the little craft almost to oblivion, had lost interest in them.
Incredibly, the island drew closer. Shulkahr hardly dared to breathe. He had the sense to hold his course until they had passed the little beach. Then he turned toward the island.
The change of direction proved too much for the crippled vessel. Struck by a larger than usual wave as it came around, it broke apart.
Nevertheless, the raft had carried them most of the way. The vines binding it together had done their job for long enough. Pitched into the water, the fugitives struck out for the beach, swimming with the tide.
Shulkahr emerged as the laggard. By the time he pulled himself from the water, the others were already wandering among the pile of supplies abandoned beside the beach, searching for food.
The princess called out in excitement. “Over here! I’ve found some bread.”
He arrived in time to hear the queen’s response. “Well done, Tasha! I’m so hungry I don’t care how stale it is.” Both of them were biting hungrily into the food.
His eyes went wide. The conversation had been in Rogandan. Yet he had been reliably informed that the Arvenian queen spoke her own language, and nothing more.
It all came together in a rush. He’d known something wasn’t right about her, but he hadn’t been able to put the pieces together. Now the truth had been laid bare. Whoever she was, she wasn’t Queen Essanda. She’d been masquerading the whole time.
The operation to abduct the Arvenian queen had been masterminded by Kahrlin. He’d captured an impostor. The arrogant fool thought he was so clever. He’d be in for a very big surprise.
The fake queen was staring at him. From the look on her face, she knew she’d been exposed.
“Was it my eyes?” she asked.
He looked at her blankly. “What about your eyes?”
She didn’t enlighten him.
“If you’re asking what gave you away, it started with your heroic rescue.” His lip curled into a sneer. “You were far too strong and too clever for your own good. You should have left me to drown.”
The other two had ceased their search and joined them.
“He knows.” The impostor sounded tired.
The king frowned. “What are we going to do with him?”
The princess was staring out to sea. “I think we might have bigger things to worry about.”
Shulkahr followed her gaze. A ship was gliding around the edge of the island. He saw at a glance that it was Ahran.
The mock queen grabbed the arm of the king. “Is there anywhere we can hide?”
Shulkahr snorted. “Save your energy. This island was chosen for a reason.”
A boat was lowered from the ship and set out for the shore. All four of them stood watching as if mesmerized.
As it approached the beach, Shulkahr saw a face he recognized. The man poised in the prow of the boat was Kahrlin.
24
Commodore Pultek stood at the helm as the Princess Teylee plowed through another wave. He smiled in satisfaction at the creaking of the ship’s timbers. It was good to be back at sea.
The ship that interrupted the Ahran evacuation of the island was now a memory. Frustrating as that engagement had been, his energy and initiative had gained him favorable attention from Lord Kulferan. As a reward, he had been promoted and given command of a newly commissioned ship, named for the missing princess.
The Princess Teylee was one of a kind. Sporting three masts, she was the fastest ship in the Rogandan navy. And Lord Kulferan had sent the Princess off laden with a full complement of fighting men. Pultek was itching to put the Ahrans to the test. He had no doubt that the outcome would be very different next time.
Commodore Pultek’s squadron had also grown as a result of his promotion. Five ships now sailed under his command. It was true that the other four were older and less nimble than his flagship, but they would play their part.
A great deal of responsibility had been placed on his shoulders, and he was more than ready to embrace it. His squadron would no longer search for the princess. The hunt would continue, but that task had been assigned to other ships. He had been given a new strategy.
Sailing conditions were ideal—fine weather coupled with steady winds. Having sent his orders to the other captains in his squadron, Pultek set off in search of his quarry.
Steering north of Rog, he continued until he was well clear of the islands that dotted the ocean near the mainland. Then he turned west, heading toward Varas, and Castel beyond it. He had positioned two ships on either side of the Princess and instructed their captains to hold a steady course. Between them, the ships now covered a broad sweep of ocean. If any of them sighted an Ahran vessel, they would signal the nearest vessel, which would in turn notify the Princess. Pultek intended to waste no time before pursuing any ship unlucky enough to come in sight.
Nothing was predictable at sea. Conditions could change in a moment, and only the unexpected was inevitable. Nevertheless, on this occasion fate seemed determined to smile upon the commodore and his newly commissioned flagship.
Having cleared the islands and turned west, they sailed for only a few hours before the lookout called, “A signal, Cap’n!”
None of the men had adopted his new title, but Pultek didn’t care.
The signalman relayed the message. “A ship sighted to the northwest, Cap’n.”
“Is it Ahran?”
“No indication yet.”
“West by northwest!” Pultek ordered the helmsman. “Steer a course to intercept them.”
“Set full sail!” he bellowed.
Sailors immediately scrambled aloft.
Pultek grunted with satisfaction as the Princess responded. He had never experienced such speed and responsiveness.
“Sail ahead!”
The call from the lookout came much sooner than he expected.
“How many masts?”
“Three, Cap’n!”
He turned to the bosun. “Get the soldiers onto the deck! Make sure the archers are ready for action!”
By the time everyone was positioned, the sails could be clearly seen from the helm.
“Are they changing course?” he shouted to the lookout.
“No, Cap’n.”
Pultek smirked at his helmsman. “They think we’re Ahrans. They’re not used to being chased by ships with three masts.” He stared at his quarry. “Everything is about to change,” he promised.
They were upon the other ship before the Ahrans realized anything was wrong. By the time sailors scurried into the rigging to set more sail, it was too late.
The commander of the soldiers had positioned himself beside Pultek.
“Tell me as soon as we’re in arrow range,” Pultek ordered.
The commander nodded, but no advice was necessary. The Ahrans hadn’t waited to get into range to begin firing at the Princess. As soon as shafts were whizzing over the deck, Pultek gave the order.
“Target the men in the rigging!” he ordered.
A volley of arrows shot upward, and sailors crashed to the deck.
Pultek watched in grim satisfaction. “I learned that trick from you,” he growled.
“Bring her alongside!” he ordered the helmsman.
“It’s your job now,” he told the soldier.
Hurrying down to the deck, the commander shouted orders to his men. As soon as the two ships were close enough, grappling hooks were thrown onto the other vessel. Ahran sailors retrieved axes and began hacking desperately at the ropes. But archers targeted them mercilessly, and more grappling hooks were thrown for every one they severed.
Soldiers were soon leaping across the gap onto the Ahran ship. As hand-to-hand fighting raged across the deck, men began assaulting the forecastle.
Taken by surprise and heavily outnumbered, the Ahran defenders found that bravery was not enough. The Ahran captain had no choice but to surrender.
The commander reported back to Pultek. “The ship is yours, Commodore! My men have disarmed the survivors and have them under guard. No Ahrans remain below decks.”
“Your casualties?”
“Relatively light, I am pleased to say.”
“Well done, Commander. What is their cargo?”
“Supplies, mostly.”
“Any clues as to their intentions?”
“Their captain tried to destroy his papers, but my men prevented him from completing the task. Unfortunately his orders are written in the Ahran language. I have no one who can translate them.”
“They will be sent to Rog. Your men performed admirably today, Commander. Please convey my compliments to them.”
The papers seized from the Ahran captain, along with the captured sailors and agents, were transferred by Pultek to the slowest of his ships, along with a strong contingent of guards. A skeleton crew took over the vessel and set a course for Rog.
As previously directed by Lord Kulferan, Pultek renamed the captured Ahran vessel the King Rupert. He transferred to it the remainder of the crew from the ship now on its way to Rog. Their numbers were bolstered with sailors from the other vessels in his squadron, along with soldiers drawn from all of his ships.
Communicating effectively while transferring personnel at sea proved challenging. However the seas remained calm, and his men performed admirably.
