The Sea King

by C. L. Wilson

  Standing beside the top deck railing was an older Calbernan male. He was also clad in a loincloth, but his musculata was worked in gold with raised designs of sea serpents and foaming waves covering the chest. And where each of the other warriors wore a dark green cloak clasped about their shoulders, the older man wore a loose-fitting, wide-sleeved robe of fine fabric that hung down to mid-calf. He was watching her with narrowed golden eyes and an inscrutable expression.

  “Myerialanna Gabriella Coruscate,” said Dilys, “it is my honor to introduce you to His Excellency, Calivan Merimydion, Lord Chancellor of Calberna.”

  She blushed to the roots of her hair. “Your Excellency.”

  “Your Royal Highness,” the Lord Chancellor replied, offering a polite bow. “Forgive me. I would offer you refreshments or a comfortable place to sit, but I was not expecting visitors until some time after we made dock.” He flicked what looked like a reproving glance in Dilys’s direction. Her interpretation of the look was confirmed a moment later when he added, “My nephew can be impetuous at times.”

  If Dilys took offense he did not show it. Instead he said, “I was surprised to see your ship, Uncle. You sent no word of your impending arrival. Moa nima is well?”

  Calivan Merimydion switched to Sea Tongue and said, “She is much improved. I would not have left her otherwise. But you should not speak of such things before oulani.”

  “I have no secrets from my liana,” Dilys replied in the same tongue.

  Calivan’s whole body tensed. “Your liana?” He speared Summer with a narrow-eyed gaze. “She has already bound you to her?”

  “Not yet,” Summer replied in perfectly accented Sea Tongue. Calivan looked startled, but Dilys only gave her an amused glance. He’d clearly suspected she was as fluent in his native tongue as Spring.

  Gabriella didn’t like the way Calivan was speaking to Dilys—a seasoned warrior who had, quite literally, saved the world. Although Dilys was more than capable of fighting his own battles, she nonetheless found herself springing to his defense. “Your nephew believes in the power of affirmation,” she continued in articulate Sea Tongue. With a smile much fonder and more intimate than she had ever given Dilys before, she laid a hand on his arm, gazed adoringly up into his eyes, and said, “He is convinced that if he says a thing often enough, it will become true. I confess, the tactic is an effective one. He has been wearing down my resistance.”

  Dilys’s amused smile turned into a quickly smothered grin. He caught her hand in his and lifted it to his mouth to press a kiss against the back of her fingers. “My liana has the right of it. She hasn’t made her claim final yet, but her growing affection towards me gives me confidence that she soon will.”

  “I see.” Calivan switched back to Eru, the common tongue. “Well, this is good news. I look forward to the day when I may offer you both my congratulations. And, of course, the Myerial awaits the arrival of her new daughter with great anticipation and much joy.”

  The mention of Dilys’s mother made Summer suddenly regret her impulsive pretense—what if Calivan Merimydion raised his sister’s hopes for a forthcoming engagement?—but when she tugged on her hand to free it, Dilys did not let go. Unwilling to engage in an embarrassing struggle to get her hand back, Summer let him keep it and pasted a pleasant expression on her face.

  “Thank you, Your Excellency,” she said.

  She stood quietly as Dilys and his uncle quickly caught each other up with the happenings in Calberna and Konumarr. As they spoke, she could see some small resemblance between Dilys and his uncle in the shape and color of their eyes and the thick slash of their eyebrows, but that was it. Had she met the two side by side, she would never have suspected they were related. Though both men were clearly fit, Calivan was leaner. Dilys had more muscle mass. All those years of swinging heavy swords and fighting other people’s wars, she supposed. Calivan also seemed a little cagier. Less open. She’d spent a lifetime living amongst palace intrigues. She recognized the signs of a man accustomed to the ever-changing political winds of court. He didn’t strike her as one of those obsequious, oily politicians who curried favors, though. There was too much steel in his spine, too much an aura of command about him. He wasn’t the gadfly. He was the spider, spinning his webs.

  They both were lethal men, each in his own way. The difference, she suspected, was that Calivan’s was the knife you wouldn’t see coming.

  Summer shivered a little, then smiled as Dilys glanced down at her, his eyes filled with laughter over some story he’d been relating about his cousins Ryll and Ari.

  “Oh, they are terrible flirts,” she agreed. “Half the women in Konumarr are madly in love with them. I think that’s the problem. They’re enjoying all the attention too much to make up their minds.”

  “Their mothers will not be pleased,” Calivan said. “Houses Ocea and Calmyria both need daughters. Arilon and Ryllian should settle down and tend their duty to mother and House.”

  Was it her imagination, or was there another jab at Dilys in that remark?

  “I’m sure they will,” Dilys said easily. “We’ve a few weeks yet before our time here is done.”

  “Only if the King and Queen of Wintercraig agree to postpone the rest of your visit.”

  For the first time since coming aboard, Dilys tensed. “What do you mean?”

  Calivan hesitated, frowning at Summer.

  Dilys shifted a little closer to her. “I told you, I have no secrets from Gabriella. Whatever you have to say, you can say in her presence.”

  After another long pause, the Lord Chancellor of Calberna sighed. “I suppose she will learn soon enough anyways. I merely thought the news should go to the king first. A matter of diplomacy, you understand.” The last remark, he directed towards Summer.

  “Of course,” she murmured.

  “Does this have something to do with the reason you and your crew are sailing armed and armored?” Dilys asked.

  “It does,” Calivan affirmed. “Our friends in the Olemas Ocean have set their sights on the Denbe now. A Cantese convoy was attacked just east of the Milinas Strait.”

  The Milinas Strait was the western gateway to the Denbe Ocean from the Sterling Sea. Summer knew from her recent study of Calbernan commerce that the Milinas Strait was one of the main shipping channels used by Calberna and their network of trade partners. If the pirates successfully gained control of both the Olemas and Denbe Oceans, they would control two thirds of Mystral’s northern hemisphere.

  “There’s more,” Calivan continued. “The Cantese were sailing under the flag of House Merimydion. As were three other convoys attacked within the last month. Three of our trade vessels are missing, presumed sunk or commandeered. It’s our belief that House Mermydion’s ships and trading partners are being targeted specifically.”

  At Summer’s side, Dilys had gone utterly still. The muscles beneath her hand were taut, and he was all but vibrating with contained emotion. Anger, she realized, when she cast a searching glance up at the handsome face that now looked carved from stone and the eyes that blazed with golden fire. She shivered a little. She wouldn’t want to see that face coming at her in battle. There was no mercy in it at all.

  “Which of our ships were taken?”

  Calivan rattled off a short list of names.

  “And the rest of our merchant ships?”

  “The Myerial has recalled them all to Calberna. The captains were not happy about it.”

  “Better angry than dead. They should be integrated with the other fleets. If this is a direct attack on House Merimydion, we won’t make our ships an easy target for these miserable krillos.”

  “Tey, well, as to that . . . we have a plan.”

  Calivan Merimydion’s plan was simple. He’d already spread word that House Merimydion had a convoy on its way filled with magnificent treasures to celebrate Dilys’s forthcoming marriage to a Season of Summerlea—a collection to rival the dragon’s hoard of priceless gifts Dilys’s own father had gathered
in anticipation of his daughter’s birth. Now, he just needed Dilys and his men to set a trap, using that convoy as bait. Pirates with a grudge against House Merimydion wouldn’t let such a prize slip through their fingers, and Calivan’s ears across the seas had already informed him that the Shark was making plans to personally intercept the convoy.

  Later that night, after escorting Gabriella to her chambers, Dilys headed for his uncle’s room. He’d known since the not-so-subtle jabs about doing duty to mother and House that his uncle would expect a full accounting of why Calberna’s prince—who had been clearly told which Seasons he should marry—was courting the one Season who had been deemed unsuitable for a royal union.

  Calivan answered the door on Dilys’s first knock and waved him curtly inside. Once the door closed behind them, Calivan flicked a hand at the full basin of water on his dressing table and spread a water veil around the room for privacy. “So, Nephew, explain yourself.”

  Dilys bristled. Even expecting the inquisition, he took exception to his uncle’s tone. It was one thing to be told which woman he should take to wife, but it was entirely something different to be addressed in such a scathing tone for choosing Gabriella instead. As if she was so utterly without merit as to be the worst possible match he could ever have made. The insult to her, though unspoken, made his hackles rise and claws come out.

  “Speak carefully, Uncle,” he hissed through fully descended battle fangs. “Do not dare to insult my liana. You will not be forgiven.” Fury pulsed through him, and his ulumi flared bright in warning.

  Calivan’s jaw dropped. “You have entered liakapua? With her?”

  “I have, and that is my answer to you.”

  “How is this possible?” Calivan dragged his fingers through the ropes of his hair. “She is not the one we chose for you.”

  “Perhaps not, but she is the one Numahao chose for me. And there is much more to her than your lengthy investigations revealed.”

  His uncle’s eyes narrowed with sudden sharpness. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean she is a Siren.”

  “A what?”

  “You heard me.”

  Calivan stumbled back a step, completely nonplussed. Then his expression hardened and he folded his arms across his chest. “That’s impossible. She can’t be. An oulani Siren? No. Ono. You must be mistaken.”

  “There is no mistake. We all heard her Shout. Every last one of us in the city. We all came running. She is a Siren. The first in twenty-five hundred years.”

  “It cannot be. It’s some other magic. Some sort of deception. A ruse to get you to marry the least gifted weatherwitch instead of the strongest.”

  Dilys grabbed his uncle by the throat, claws digging into the skin on either side of his windpipe. “Do not,” he growled, “by word, tone, or deed, suggest she is anything but the treasure of treasures she is.” With a snarl, he released his mother’s twin and stepped back.

  Calivan massaged his throat, eyeing his nephew warily for the first time. “My apologies,” he said in a much more conciliatory tone. “It will not happen again. But if this is true about her being a Siren, why did you not send word immediately? I would have brought an entire fleet to protect her.”

  “I would not risk her safety sending word of her existence along even our most secure seaways. I do not know what sort of magics or spies the Shark has at his disposal, but I wasn’t willing to let unfriendly ears learn what Gabriella is. I thought it best to keep what she is a secret until I could bring her home safe to Calberna. Even then, the truth of what she is can never be known to the oulani. There are more greedy, honorless krillos in the world today than there were at the time of the Slaughter.”

  “Tey, of course. Of course.” Calivan steepled his hands and pressed them to his lips. “This changes many things. A Siren. No wonder you erected the sea veil around the palace.” He shook his head and began to pace. “Her gift gives us a strong advantage against the Pureblood Alliance. They cannot refuse to the recognize the daughter of Calberna’s prince and a Siren as Calberna’s next queen.”

  Dilys crossed his arms. “You are still thinking my daughter will be the next Myerial? Uncle, Gabriella is a Siren, the first born since the Slaughter. The Sea Throne is hers. Nima can gift her the power of the Myerials and then retire to Merimydia Oa Nu. Without the weight of so many lives and the responsibilities of a queendom resting on her shoulders, we should be able to slow her Fade.”

  Calivan shook her head. “If Summer Coruscate were imlani, there would be no question of her becoming our Myerial, but she is not. However she came to possess the gift, she does not possess Calbernan blood. No oulani—not even a Siren—can sit on the Sea Throne. You should not even suggest it. The Pureblood Alliance has caused problem enough over the mere possibility of a half-breed becoming the next Myerial. What do you think they would do if House Merimydion tried to put the crown on the head of a foreigner?”

  Dilys swallowed his retort. There was no point in arguing with his uncle. Calivan’s first loyalty was to his twin. But if Calivan thought there would be no support for Gabriella to take the throne once Calbernans learned she was a Siren, he was mistaken. Calberna was a land whose people valued strength, and there was no stronger Calbernan magic than Siren Song. Already, Dilys’s own men called Gabriella their future queen—and to a man they would die to protect and serve her, without a thought to her oulani blood.

  “Still, she must be guarded as the treasure she is,” Calivan continued. “Which men will you be leaving behind to ensure her safety?”

  Dilys told him the names of the ten elite Calbernan warriors he had chosen to remain in Konumarr while he and the rest of the fleet were springing their trap on the Shark. He’d selected Synan Merimydion—a distant cousin from his own House—to lead them.

  “Good. Very good. They are all fine warriors. You could not have chosen better. I would offer to stay behind myself, but I’m not comfortable being away from Alys for long.”

  “Give Nima my love, Uncle. And tell her about Gabriella. It will bring her joy to know her son will have a Siren for a wife.”

  “I will.” Calivan reached out to clasp Dilys’s arms, then dragged him into an embrace, thumping him affectionately on the back. “I am happy for you, Nephew. Dispatch these pirates quickly, so that you may return home to your mother with your magnificent new liana.”

  Chapter 18

  “I still don’t like this.” Summer stood on the docks of Konumarr harbor and glowered up at the armored Calbernan Sealord standing beside her. “You came here to marry a weatherwitch because you wanted our help to deal with these pirates, and now you’re going to sail off to confront them without our gifts to help you?”

  Dilys smiled down at her. He always seemed to be smiling, damn him. If she didn’t know better she’d say it was because he never took anything seriously. But she’d seen his face when his uncle had shared the list of Calbernan sailors from the missing vessels. People he knew, people under his protection—many of them—were presumed dead or sold into slavery. There’d been death in his eyes.

  These pirates—whoever they were—had no idea of what they’d roused. No idea of what destruction they’d called down on their own heads when they set out to harm people under Dilys Merimydion’s protection.

  “You have the power to keep me from this fight, moa kiri,” he told her. Sweet Halla, that smile of his was a weapon. Broad, dazzling white in his deeply bronzed face. “Just stake your claim. Make me yours, and I’ll sail with you back to Calberna tomorrow alongside all the other lianas and akuas.”

  For the last two days, the married Sealords and their new families had been preparing to depart for Calberna. Dilys and the rest of the unwed warriors had spent the time provisioning their ships and preparing for battle.

  “You’re just saying that because you know I won’t do it. If I bound you to me five times over, you wouldn’t let your men sail into this fight without you.”

  “Would I not?” His smile winked ou
t. “Let’s put that to the test. All joking aside. If you truly want me to stay, then claim me, Gabriella. Speak my Name and make me yours.”

  “Dilys . . .” Gods, what he did to her. When he spoke in that voice, when he looked at her that way—like she was Halla, and he was the poor soul locked outside its gates, begging to get in . . . “You know I won’t do that. I—I can’t.” Summer couldn’t afford to let herself be rushed into marriage. There was too much at stake. Her gifts were too dangerous, her control over them uncertain at best. One afternoon of controlling her gifts while recounting the most horrible day of her life did not constitute sufficient proof that she could risk releasing her emotions from a lifetime of fierce control.

  “And I cannot let this challenge to my House go unanswered. Calberna cannot allow it.” Dilys smoothed a hand across her hair. “At least give me your blessing before I go, Gabriella, since you won’t give me your heart.”

  “You have it.”

  His lips curved with gentle amusement. “Ono. I don’t mean words and kind thoughts. I ask for a Siren’s blessing.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Taking her hands, he dropped gracefully to one knee before her, then cupped her hands around his face. “Bless me, Sirena. Before I head into battle, grant me the gift of your good wishes and whatever affection you bear me. If I am to die, let me die with that much at least.”

  The mere thought of Dilys perishing sent a jolt of panic ripping through her, followed by an instant, ferocious rejection. He couldn’t . . . die. Not now. Not when she . . . when she . . . The sudden swell of fierce emotion overwhelmed her. Heat suffused her. The Rose on her right wrist burned like a coal.

  Dilys’s fingers clamped tight around her wrists, clutched her hands to his face. His back arched, every muscle in his body went taut, and the tendons in his neck stood out like thick cables. He started to shake. A rattling groan spilled from his mouth.