by Dan Zangari
“Now what?” Cornar asked. He looked down to Heinseil, who cocked his head and then whinnied. “Looks like I worked you for nothing,” he said with a sigh, patting the horse’s mane. “I’m sorry.”
Cornar sat in the saddle for a moment, gazing at the tall ships sailing into open waters. His men were probably on one of those ships—or perhaps not, if they had set sail earlier today. Krindal was in a hurry after all. If Cornar wanted to join them he’d have to charter another ship and—
“You there!” a harsh voice shouted from behind Cornar. “On the horse!” Cornar tugged gently on the reigns, turning Heinseil. A man wearing a gray uniform with a yellow stripe approached Cornar—a City Watchman.
“I’ve heard you’ve caused a ruckus, galloping your horse through the pier. What are you doing here?” the watchman demanded.
“I was trying to catch a vessel before it left,” Cornar said. “But I was late.”
Flashes of gray caught his eye farther down the pier, two more watchmen. Great. Both watchmen came to a halt behind the first man. One was quite rugged, and the other—By Heleron’s Fins! Yeldric! He was one of the men Cornar had trained nearly twenty years ago. Not all the men he had instructed over the years had become adventurers. In fact, plenty of them had been part of other civil organizations, or went off to join those organizations after they were finished with Cornar’s tutelage.
Yeldric was one such man. He’d been a boy when he came to Cornar, learning all he could until his early twenties. Then Yeldric went off to join the City Watch.
“Cor?!” Yeldric blurted. Cornar smiled. It was good Yeldric recognized him. That would probably help the situation.
“Do you know this man?” the first watchman asked.
“Yes,” Yeldric replied. “This is my mentor, Cornar Dol’shir.”
The other watchmen perked up, intrigued by the name. Though they had probably never met Cornar, they knew him by reputation.
“He said he was trying to catch a ship before it weighed anchor,” the first watchman said.
“Going on an adventure, Cor?” Yeldric asked. Cornar nodded. “Not like you to be late,” Yeldric said, and chuckled. “Wasn’t that old barso-what’s-it supposed to be the late one?”
“Yeah,” Cornar said, smiling, “it’s a long story, but I was hurrying from my home out west.”
“What ship was it?” Yeldric asked. “We can see when it departed.”
The watchmen snapped surprised glares at Yeldric, as if he were a madman. Their gazes said, “You’re an officer of the law, and you’re helping someone who just caused a disturbance?!” It seemed the loyalty of those Cornar trained lingered no matter the distance.
“The Promised Maiden,” Cornar said, “but I know where they’re going. I just need to find a certain captain. He’ll get me to them.” The watchmen looked uneasily at Cornar.
“You’re not going anywhere,” the first watchman said. “At the very least, we need to cite you for the disturbance you caused.” Cornar gripped the reins and sucked in a deep breath, about to speak. But the watchmen looked behind Cornar with wary gazes.
“Excuse me,” a stern masculine voice said. “You said you were looking for the Promised Maiden?” Cornar glanced over his shoulder, resting a hand on the back of Heinseil’s saddle.
Standing several paces away was a blond-haired man wearing an elegant red coat adorned with gold-and-white tassels. The red coat was embroidered with patterns clustered together. The coat had tails, which hung behind his thighs. Beneath the coat was a ruffled cream-colored shirt. The man’s pants were charcoal colored, and he wore matching boots. The newcomer was obviously royalty, but he was not some Sarn Royal or any other island aristocrat of the Principality of Soroth. He looked more sophisticated than that.
“Yes, I’d hope to sail on the Promised Maiden,” Cornar answered, his gaze fixed on the newcomer’s face. He started upon seeing the man’s pale-violet eyes. Violet eyes?
“You’re one of the men hired?” the stranger asked, his brow raised. “I thought Krindal said they were all aboard.”
“My men were hired, yes,” Cornar said. “I wasn’t planning to come along, but I had a change of heart.”
The stranger smiled at that. “Couldn’t ignore the allure of ancient tevisrals, huh?” he asked.
“Something like that,” Cornar said flatly. “Are you the Mindolarnian prince?”
“I am,” the stranger said with a bow. “Prince Kaescis Midivar, at your service.” Kaescis then looked at the watchmen. “This man is part of my retinue. If you detain him, you’ll delay an important mission of the empire.”
The watchmen looked at each other, but Yeldric stepped forward. “Master Cor is free to go with you.”
“Yeldric, you don’t have that authority!” the first watchman barked. Yeldric snickered, then gestured to Kaescis. “If you want to argue with the prince, go right ahead. I’m sure he’ll escalate this beyond our superiors.”
The watchman hesitated.
“Good,” Kaescis said, nodding, and then turned to Cornar. “We were about to cast off, but I was prompted by the Will to wait. Now I see why.”
What was the Will? And this prince had a prompting to wait? I wonder if it’s anything like my feelings, Cornar wondered, but shook the thoughts aside.
“Yeldric,” Cornar said, dismounting from his horse, “Karenna is coming to fetch Heinseil here. Could you see that she finds him?”
“Of course, Cor,” Yeldric said with a nod, hurrying around his fellow watchmen.
“Yeldric!” the first watchman shouted.
“We’re to serve and protect, right?” Yeldric said. “That’s what I’m doing.” The two watchmen grumbled, then turned around and hurried back down the pier. They weren’t going to cite Cornar with the Mindolarnian prince around.
“Good luck,” Yeldric said, his tone chipper. “Maybe one of these days I’ll quit my job and join you.”
“You’d like it, Yeldric,” Cornar said, clasping his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
“Always.”
Cornar walked away from his horse, coming alongside Kaescis. The prince turned to him and gestured farther down the pier. “My ship is moored at the very end,” he said. “I decided to walk the pier, hoping to gain further instructions from the Will. Then I saw you galloping and was intrigued. I hurried over and heard you say the name of that ship Krindal charted. Then I knew. You were the reason I was to wait.”
Cornar nodded. He was curious about this Will Kaescis kept mentioning.
“So, you’re the man who retired?” Kaescis asked, his tone probing.
“Yes, my name is Cornar Dol’shir.”
Upon hearing the name, Kaescis stopped abruptly. The prince looked him up and down, carefully studying him. Kaescis’s gaze, however, was drawn to Cornar’s weapons. The prince’s eyes widened.
What was this prince thinking? Kaescis looked like he recognized the weapons, but that was impossible. This prince looked no more than thirty, and both the dagger and short-sword had been in Cornar’s possession since he was thirteen, some forty years ago.
Kaescis stared at the serrated dagger for a moment longer, then resumed walking, but said no more. They walked in silence until they neared the end of the pier where a large vessel was moored.
The ship was grand looking, with metal plating adorning much of its hull. The plating was practical but also decorative. A vessel fit for a prince—a Mindolarn prince, no less.
“We have a banquet planned for tonight,” Kaescis finally said as he climbed the gangway. “Those of Krindal’s ship were to come aboard the Executor’s Breath. We’ll be slightly behind, but after the banquet you’ll be able to join your men.”
“I appreciate your help. How would you like me to address you?” He didn’t know what would be proper for a Mindolarn Royal.
“Kaescis is fine,” the prince said. “People call me Your Imperial Highness or My Liege. But I tire of that, especially these last few months.�
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Wow, not pompous at all, Cornar thought. Kaescis didn’t seem like a typical Mindolarn Royal. They were often the most arrogant kind of aristocracy. But Sarn Royals were almost as bad.
Once they were aboard, Kaescis shouted for the crew to pull up the gangway, then gave further orders to prepare to weigh anchor.
“You can wait where you wish,” Kaescis said, then walked across the main deck to the vessel’s raised quarterdeck.
Cornar walked to the nearby rail. He dropped his sack and waited for the impending backward jolt. Cornar was going out into the world once more, ready to unearth a colossal secret, the likes of which no man had ever brought to light.
“After I answered Elynia’s questions, I put forth my own. Why didn’t she age? Why did she look the same as the day I first saw her? She smiled wryly, like a child anxious to tell a secret. But Elynia didn’t speak. Instead, glowing faintly, she erupted with brilliant white light. I should have known…”
- From Origins and Oaths of the Keepers, preface
The sea breeze brushed along Cornar’s face as he leaned against the starboard rail. It was good to be on the open seas again. Soldiers and sailors moved behind him, attending to their duties on the ship. Cornar thought it odd to see so few sailors for such a large vessel. No wonder the soldiers had to help.
Cornar had never been aboard a Mindolarn vessel. But the Executor’s Breath wasn’t much different from the larger ships of the Sorothian Navy, Sarin-class warships.
He turned away from the rail, looking to the raised quarterdeck. That part of the Executor’s Breath was almost identical to a Sarin-class warship, with an open-air bridge two decks above the main deck. The similarity in design intrigued Cornar. Did the Mindolarnians copy the Sorothians, or the other way around?
A short man in a charcoal uniform accented with golden buttons and embroidery gave orders to various soldiers, who in turn relayed the orders to the rest of the ship. That must be the captain, Cornar thought, glancing about. Crewmen and soldiers grudgingly performed their duties. I should probably help.
Cornar wasn’t the kind of man to stand idly while others toiled. So he hurried across the main deck and climbed the starboard stairs leading to the open-air bridge. As Cornar neared the bridge the captain shouted more orders. “… Gresym, check on the galley. I need to know when they’ll be ready. Alestyrn, get the current distance of the Promised Maiden, and—”
The captain cut himself short upon noticing Cornar, obviously not expecting a passenger on his bridge.
“What can I help you with, citizen?” the captain asked, standing stiff-backed, chin raised.
“I was just coming up to ask you that very same thing,” Cornar said, grinning. “Well, I would have said captain instead of citizen.”
The captain cracked a smile at Cornar. “So you want to help?”
“Yes, your crew looks a little ragtag. No offense intended.”
“None taken,” the captain said. “Perhaps you can run to the galley for me. Gresym, check on the officers’ mess deck. His Grace said we should be expecting sixty-two guests.”
Sixty-two, huh? Cornar thought. Who else had Krindal conscripted? Cornar didn’t think Alacor would commit many of their Order for this journey. Cornar’s men and the few mages with them totaled forty-three. So Krindal had recruited at least sixteen—if only Captain Salisar and her first mate were attending the meal tonight.
“You! Citizen!” the captain called to Cornar. “Do you know where the galley is located?”
“If the ship is like a Sarin warship,” Cornar shouted back.
“Aye, it is,” the captain said.
“I’ll be back in a moment, Captain…?” Cornar fished for a name.
“Admiral. And the name is Kaetet.”
An admiral captaining a ship? That surprised Cornar—in the Sorothian Navy, that normally didn’t happen unless the captain died.
“Right away, admiral,” Cornar said, hurrying back down the stairs to the galley, located on the first deck below the main.
* * * * *
Cornar continued helping the crew of the Executor’s Breath. He relayed messages back and forth from the galley to Admiral Kaetet. After that, he helped Gresym—a Mindolarn soldier—prepare the officers’ mess deck for the coming dinner. It typically seated only twenty-five, so they had to bring tables from the general mess deck, one deck below the main.
The officers’ mess deck was fairly large, with a vaulted ceiling that rose two decks, but the extra tables and chairs made for a tight fit. Four rows of tables were set up, each with eighteen chairs. A smaller table was positioned along the aft bulkhead, with five seats, centered along floor-to-ceiling windows. This was obviously for Prince Kaescis and the others in charge of the expedition to Klindala. Cornar meticulously put out place settings for the head table while Gresym and a servant from the galley tended to the other tables.
“They’re coming aboard!” a man shouted as he entered the officers’ mess deck. Cornar glanced over his shoulder, seeing the messenger run to a stairwell at the opposite side of the room. The stairs emptied onto a balcony overlooking the mess deck. He glimpsed the messenger disappearing down a hallway on that upper deck. Cornar, however, resumed placing the table settings.
After he finished, Cornar looked to his left, out the portside windows near the stern of the Executor’s Breath. Cornar could see the stern of a smaller ship, the Promised Maiden. The smaller vessel drifted close to the Executor’s Breath, but settled a gangway’s distance away.
Cornar stepped to the windows to get a better view. Two gangways were extended from the Promised Maiden’s rail, lowered by ropes and pulleys rigged to the nearest mast. Crewmen from the Executor’s Breath were extending metal poles with large clamps on either end, used to maintain a safe distance between vessels when they traveled side by side.
The process was complicated and required synchronization with both crews. Without proper synchronization, the vessels could be driven off course or suffer structural damage. Most captains wouldn’t risk such maneuvers. They’d rather slow their ships and ferry passengers back and forth with longboats.
Cornar stared at the process for a moment but was drawn away by several pairs of footsteps from the balcony overlooking the mess deck. The messenger was ahead of Kaescis and another man—was that a man? This other person was dressed in tan, free-flowing clothing. It looked like some type of battle garb. He, or she, had dark-blond hair pulled back in a braid. This person was slim, but neither feminine nor masculine.
A moment later, the messenger rounded the stairs and headed back toward the open-air bridge, but Kaescis and his companion remained.
“Your Imperial Highness,” both Gresym and the servant said in unison, bowing together.
Kaescis waved his hand, dismissing their civility. “What else needs to be done?”
“Just the dessert bowls,” the servant answered timidly.
Kaescis nodded and then looked around the room. The prince noticed Cornar and waved him over. “Mister Dol’shir,” Kaescis said. His tone was serious, but Cornar thought he could hear contempt in the prince’s voice. “This is one of my advisors, Laeyit.”
Cornar was taken aback upon seeing Laeyit’s yellow eyes. He had never seen anyone with yellow eyes. Mindolarnians were said to have strange eye color, but he had not expected anything as bizarre as this. Laeyit’s face was smooth, lacking stubble. That led Cornar to believe Laeyit was probably a woman.
“A pleasure to meet you,” Laeyit said coldly. The voice was feminine.
What an unfortunate-looking woman, Cornar thought. Laeyit lacked the typical feminine form, and the absence of makeup only added to her unattractive appearance.
“Likewise,” Cornar said with a bow.
Laeyit, however, continued studying him with her cold gaze. Was she trying to gauge him? Laeyit looked more a bodyguard than an advisor. That role would be a good disguise—protecting the prince while pretending to be his advisor.
“Lae
yit has been a member of my retinue for some time,” Kaescis said. “She can be callous at times, but don’t let that bother you,” the prince said, as he moved to a serving table that held stacks of bowls. He picked up one of the stacks, walked to the far portside table, and began placing the bowls one by one.
Was Kaescis actually doing the work of servants? Most members of aristocratic castes wouldn’t dare tend to duties of the lower classes. Cornar had never considered humility as an attribute Mindolarnians possessed. Perhaps he had misjudged these people.
“Laeyit, tend to the other table,” Kaescis commanded, his tone firm and authoritative. Laeyit complied but continued eyeing Cornar. There was a sense of hostility in her gaze. Cornar knew not to ignore such things, so he kept her in his periphery while finishing his duties.
Once they were done, Kaescis strode aft, to the table for five. “Would you care to join us at the head, Mister Dol’shir?”
“It would be an honor,” Cornar said.
“Good. You will sit on the far starboard seat, beside Master Krindal.” Kaescis took a seat at the center of the table. Laeyit stood beside him, but didn’t sit. What a strange woman.
Cornar cast a sweeping glance over the mess deck. Everything was in order. Elegant. Cornar took his seat at the table beside Kaescis, waiting for the others to arrive.
Soon, a clatter of footfalls echoed into the officers’ mess deck. One of the Mindolarn soldiers walked at the head of the visitors from the Promised Maiden. A woman walked right behind him. She was of average height, her brown hair tucked into a simple bun. She had attractive features but wore no makeup. Captain Salisar, Cornar thought.
Krindal walked beside the captain, followed by Kalder and Gregan. Many of the other warriors and mages were mingled together, walking two by two.
“This is the officers’ mess deck,” the soldier said, stepping aside so Krindal and Salisar could pass him. “Sit wherever you wish.”
Krindal nodded and stepped around the soldier, picking his way across the banquet hall. Then he stopped abruptly, his jaw dropping as he noticed Cornar. “It can’t be…” Krindal muttered with a gasp.