Princess of Wind and Sea

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Princess of Wind and Sea Page 12

by Cassandra Finnerty


  King Floe, ruler of the Realm of Ice.

  Then she gasped when she saw a glimpse of the future.

  Her beloved Saoirse was sinking into the sea.

  Aisling made her way to the map room and found a drawing of the Ice Kingdom. She studied its contours. It was a sizeable region, with extensive natural resources. Those assets could be turned into riches. With wealth at his disposal, the enemy had long tentacles, and an ability to influence others with money, favors, and promises.

  As she crossed the lower deck, Ryen approached her, disheveled and out of breath.

  “What is it?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.

  “Boats with armed men are headed our way.”

  “How many?”

  “Three.”

  “Is the prince nearby?”

  “No, he’s in a meeting on the Shannon.”

  “All right. Activate the soldiers. Tell them no one is allowed to board.”

  “What are you planning?”

  “I’m going to talk with them.”

  “That’s dangerous.”

  “There could be a simple explanation. And I’ll have our troops behind me.”

  “All right, I’ll tell the men.”

  “Have the spotters look out for the rest of the fleet. This could be a planned distraction.”

  “Aye, Commander, they’re on it now.”

  “Well,” said Aisling as she hurried down the deck with her first officer, “let’s go see what they want.” She checked her weapons and felt the daggers at her side. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, she thought.

  Ryen signaled the men. Dozens surged from the interior of the ship and manned their positions. As the three vessels drew closer, they raised white flags.

  “Permission to board?” asked the sailor in the lead boat.

  “What’s your purpose?” asked Ryen.

  “We have a letter for the Commander. I need to wait for a reply.”

  Ryen nodded. “One man. No weapons.”

  “Aye, we accept,” he said.

  Aisling watched through her spyglass as the mariner removed his sword and pistol. She nodded, and the men rowed closer.

  As the emissary boarded, Ryen passed the note to Aisling. “Wait here,” he said to the courier.

  Aising retreated to the Captain’s Quarters and opened the missive.

  “Princess, you have something that belongs to me. You know what it is. Send it back with these men. If you don’t, there will be dire consequences.”

  The communication was unsigned.

  Aisling scribbled a note with the word ‘Never,’ and handed it to her officer. After a few moments of curt exchanges, the man rejoined his comrades and headed across the water.

  Onboard the Shannon, the prince was conducting a meeting with the captains.

  “We’re expecting trouble,” he explained. “It’s unclear who the source is, but there may be more than one enemy.”

  “What do you want us to do?” asked Sean.

  “The procedures we have in place are working,” said the prince. “Continue to be vigilant, and send a signal if you see anything out of the ordinary.”

  There was a loud knock at the door. Sean opened it to find a ship’s assistant, red faced and puffing.

  “What is it?”

  “A note for the prince.”

  Drayaen scanned the dispatch. He turned to the men. “The commander has received a threat.”

  There was a murmur around the table.

  “From whom?” asked Sean.

  “It’s not clear.”

  “What now?”

  “Tomorrow, we leave for Le Havre. We must be cautious in the next few ports, before heading home.”

  “We’re with you,” said Sean.

  The prince nodded and turned to the other captains. “If anyone feels the need for more security, let me know. We can transfer some of our soldiers for added support.”

  As the men left, he turned to Colonel Lex. “I think our armed forces will come in handy, soon,” he muttered. “Prepare for the unexpected.”

  With the fleet on alert, Drayaen headed back to the Saoirse, and thought about all the possible ways they could be destroyed.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  MIRAGE

  It was dawn when the ships headed north, up the French coast. The flags rippled in the breeze as the vessels maneuvered through the undulating waves. Aisling breathed in the crisp air. She turned to the prince.

  “How are you feeling about today?” she asked.

  “We’re prepared, as much as we can be,” he murmured. “When we approach the port, stay by my side, in case we meet the unexpected.”

  She nodded. “Between now and then, I might be able to think of some solutions,” she said, and hurried off in search of answers.

  By mid afternoon, storm clouds were swirling overhead. The masts swayed with the rocking of the ship. When Drayaen ventured on deck, he saw a signal from the sentries in the lookout.

  There were unknown vessels behind them. He strained to see their flags. There were none. That doesn’t bode well, he thought. He made his way back to the Captain’s Quarters and flung open the door. Aisling was sitting at the table, huddled over her Book of Magic.

  “What is it?” she asked, her eyes widening.

  “There are unmarked ships headed our way. Can you take a look and see if it’s anyone you recognize?”

  “Of course. I’ll get my cape.”

  As they walked through the corridors, he asked, “How soon before we’re in port?”

  “A few hours.”

  On the deck, she peered through her spyglass. There were several vessels in pursuit. A number of their crew looked familiar. She rubbed her eyes and scrutinized the scene.

  “What is it?” asked the prince.

  “It’s the sailor who delivered the threatening note.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “It’s him.”

  “All right. We’ll wait until they’re closer before we engage.”

  “I can give us an advantage.”

  “That would be good right now.”

  Aisling clutched her dagger and headed to a quiet corner on the deck. She extended the wand to the sky. “With all my power, I command the winds to deter the ships behind us.”

  The sky darkened. Torrents of rain swept across the water. As she ran for cover, it appeared that the vessels chasing them were starting to slow down. Unexpected problems with their sails had forced a retreat.

  A short time later, Drayaen approached Aisling. “Your strategy worked. We have a reprieve for now, but it won’t take long for them to catch up.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Is there somewhere we can anchor the fleet, without going into the port itself?”

  “You mean, outside of the city?”

  “Not quite that far, but a location where we can retreat, if needed?”

  “You think we’ll be more vulnerable at the quay?”

  He nodded. “I believe so. Given our proximity to other vessels, it would be difficult to deploy many of our weapons. We’d be an easy target.”

  “We could stay on the perimeter of the harbor, I suppose. Would that be better?”

  “Yes. If someone threatens us from the sea, our fleet can engage.”

  “It will make trading more difficult. Some of our goods will need to be transported by small boat.”

  “Let’s try. If it’s too inconvenient, we can adjust.”

  “All right, I’ll talk with Ryen.”

  He grasped her by the shoulders. “Assume they’ll come after us again.”

  “I know,” said Aisling, her feet planted on the deck. “We’ll be ready.”

  That night, the fleet moored off the coast. Aisling sent notes to her trading partners, to coordinate the delivery of merchandise. After two days of hauling cargo to the shore, their business was concluded. It had been a productive visit. Quantities of wool, silver, marble, and tea had been offloaded to thei
r contacts from Paris.

  It was the last night before departure, and Aisling and Drayaen ventured on deck for some air. There was a cry from the lookout. A small boat was approaching. As it neared the Saoirse, Ryen came sprinting down the deck.

  “What is it?” asked Aisling.

  “An urgent message for the prince. It’s from the captain of the New Amsterdam.”

  Drayaen nodded. “Have the courier come aboard.”

  “Do we know him?” Aisling asked.

  “It’s from Lars Baas. We rescued his men in Melaka.”

  The emissary boarded and cleared his throat as he scanned the crowd.

  Drayaen stepped forward. “I am the prince,” he said. “Do you have a communication for me?”

  The man nodded, then spoke in a hurry. “A mob is on its way to burn your ships. There are rumors that your sailors have the plague.”

  “How soon before they get here?”

  “Ten minutes, maybe less.”

  “Thank Lars for us. We are most appreciative,” Drayaen said. As the envoy was escorted off the ship, he turned to Aisling.

  “It’s best if we make a hasty exit,” he said.

  “Ryen, signal the fleet. We’re proceeding to sea.”

  There was another cry from the lookout.

  “They must be close already,” said Aisling.

  “I don’t see any torches,” Drayaen replied.

  Ryen conferred with one of the sentries and rushed back to the group. “There are ships surrounding us. We’re trapped.”

  Aisling turned to the men. “We’re going to run the blockade.”

  “What!” exclaimed Ryen.

  “Mobilize the fleet now,” she ordered, as she hurried to find a remote section of the ship. She clutched her dagger and hoped they would make it through the crisis.

  Aisling struggled to find a quiet corner. With the fleet on alert, sailors were swarming the decks. She retreated to the Captain’s Quarters and stood in front of the window.

  “With all my power, I command that dark clouds cover each ship in our fleet, with complete camouflage, so we remain undetected from sound and sight until we’re out of danger.”

  She felt the power surge from her hand into the atmosphere. Depleted, she secured her dagger and raced outside. She approached the crew on the lookout patrol.

  “What do you see now?” she asked.

  “There are men with torches running along the shore.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Black clouds are swirling around our ships.”

  “Foul weather must be approaching. We’ll need your help navigating past the other vessels.”

  “Aye, Commander, we’ll guide the path.”

  She turned to find Drayaen approaching, and met him farther down the deck.

  “I’ve solved part of our problem,” she said.

  “Which part?”

  “Creating a layer of invisibility, so we’re hidden.”

  “What’s the remaining issue?”

  “The captains need to navigate through the barriers.”

  “They’re capable. We should be all right. I’m worried about something else.”

  “What is it?”

  “The rumors that will be generated when our entire fleet disappears.”

  “Weather on the French coast is so unpredictable this time of year,” she murmured.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  ONSLAUGHT

  The fleet crept past the blockade. Aisling held her breath as the dark, churning clouds hovered over the ships.

  The men on shore had stopped running when the vessels disappeared. They stood, looking all around them, as the channel filled with a low-level mist that hung heavy on the water.

  The waves became frothy and agitated.

  The fleet was entering the open seas.

  Aisling looked up as Ryen approached.

  “We’re clear, for now,” he said, exhaling a long breath. “The barricade is behind us.”

  “The captains did well to pilot in such a narrow space, but it’s not over yet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The fog will delay our foes, but not for long.”

  “You think they’ll pursue us, then?” he asked.

  “They may. I’d like to get to port as soon as possible.”

  “The channel is rough now.”

  “We’ll have to take that chance.”

  Ryen signaled the fleet.

  They were on their way to Liverpool.

  The glass in the windows rattled as the gales accelerated. A biting chill hung in the air. Aisling huddled under her cape and scanned the pages of her magic book.

  She thought back to her days in the East Kingdom, where she had first met the prince. In their quest to destroy Queen Vila, she had battled the dark spirit. During the final struggle, the ruler’s evil essence was sealed above the earth, preventing further chaos.

  Now she needed to destroy her latest nemesis. She lit another candle and scanned the content for clues about his powers. Perhaps I can ask the dagger, she thought.

  Withdrawing it from her pocket, she peered into the pommel.

  “What magic does the Ruler of Floe possess?”

  A blue-gray mist swirled around the instrument and then cleared. The crystal illuminated groups of men offering rewards for the destruction of her ships. “The plague is upon us,” they claimed, “and it’s coming to kill you too. Crush the ships that carry the death sentence, or you’ll be the one to pay.”A few minutes later, the images disappeared.

  Aisling sat back and drummed her fingers on the desk. King Floe was a master of deception and misinformation.

  She would need a new strategy to combat this type of treachery.

  After awhile, she rubbed her eyebrows and secured her sword. She lay down for a few minutes to rest, and started to dream. One of her vessels was in distress. When she looked closer, there was no one onboard.

  Aisling woke with a start. She had an idea that might prove useful. I have to tell Drayaen, she thought. Retrieving her cloak, she left the Captain’s Quarters and headed toward the deck. As she rounded the corner, she ran into him.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked.

  He nodded. “There’s no one behind us, but we’re still a long way from port.”

  “Your soldiers are doing well with surveillance.”

  He looked at her fidgeting hands. “Come, let’s get some sleep. They’ll let us know if anything happens.” They walked back to the chamber, where he removed her coat and handed her the red silk robe. A few minutes later, they lay nestled in each other’s arms as the fleet headed across the stormy seas.

  It was the middle of the night when Aisling woke. She strained to hear sounds on deck, but there was nothing. She started to sit up, but something pulled her back down.

  “You need more rest,” said Drayaen, as he grasped her around the waist. “I’m worried about you. You look drained.” He pulled her closer. “I’ll wake you if there’s a problem,” he murmured, holding her in his iron grip.

  She nodded, grateful for the opportunity to recharge. Her last command had depleted her energy. The next situation might require more skills than she ever thought possible.

  Some time later, Aisling woke to the sound of lowered voices. Drayaen and Ryen were deep in conversation at the door.

  She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dark.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “The ships that chased us to Le Havre are behind us,” said Ryen.

  She bolted upright. “How far?”

  “Not yet within firing distance.”

  “Can we sail any faster?”

  “The squalls are slowing us down.”

  “We’ll meet you on deck in a few minutes.”

  “Aye, Commander.”

  When Ryen had rushed off, Aisling turned to the prince. “I have a plan, but there’s some risk.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I need light
to make it work. We can create mirror images of our fleet. When they fire upon our ships, they will be aiming at mere reflections. It may look as though our boats have sustained damage. The reality is that they’ll not have touched us.”

  “What’s the danger?”

  “It’s the first time I’ve attempted this level of complexity.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “We may be delaying the inevitable. Once they discover it was an illusion, they’ll come after us again.”

  “We can worry about that later. For now, let’s concentrate on winning this battle.”

  “All right. If you let me know when they’re within range, I can start my commands.”

  He grasped her by the arm. “Is there any risk to you?”

  Aisling sighed. “This will require most of my strength. If something goes wrong, I won’t have much magic left.”

  “We have an army of six hundred men. That will have to be our backup plan.”

  She nodded and clutched her dagger as he raced out the door.

  Aisling paced in her chamber. Several minutes later, Drayaen alerted her that the enemy was close. She took a deep breath and raised her dagger to the sky. “I command that the sun shine.” The power hurled out of the instrument into the air. Rays of light began to permeate her chamber.

  As she readied for the next component, there was a deafening noise. She heard shouting on the deck, and felt a tremor. “They’re firing at us,” she muttered, her jaw clenching.

  With her feet planted, she grasped her sword. “I command a layer of warm air to flow across the frigid winds.”

  Clouds swirled, forming clusters in the unstable atmosphere.

  The floor beneath her vibrated, as the prince’s soldiers fired back at the attacking vessels. She could hear the artillery officers on deck, shouting orders. The acrid smell of smoke wafted through the air, while the gunners reloaded their weapons.

  She faced the window and extended her instrument, grasping its jeweled handle. “With all my might, I decree that floating walls of mirrored volcanic glass and polished copper create a mirage to misdirect the enemy.”

  Aisling secured her saber and strained to hear the activity on deck. A short while later, the cannon fire had stopped, on both sides. She took a deep breath and headed out to assess the damage.

 

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