Raven Rebellion

by K Hanson

  They meandered their way through the grid of interlocked wooden docks and floating buildings back to the Bythos. The idea of living in such a place, one that wasn’t locked to a permanent spot, appealed to Nereyda. A place to call home combined with the freedom she loved.

  The free expression of the Islanders, shown through their outfits and ships, created a wonderful tapestry. She smiled as they passed a ship with a lewd painting of a mermaid. When they reached the ship, Photios was waiting on top of the deck.

  “Did you have a good conversation with Sibylla?” he asked.

  “We did,” said Nereyda. “Sibylla gave us a mission. We need to see the captain.”

  “All right, follow me. We can see him in his cabin.”

  They crossed the deck to the room below the helm. The quartermaster pulled the door open and stepped inside.

  “You don’t need to knock?” asked Nereyda as she followed.

  “This isn’t a navy. We’re friends who sail together.”

  “Sounds familiar.”

  He turned away from her, and she looked around the cabin. It was fairly sparse, with a couple of flags with krakens on them fluttering down from the ceiling next to the walls. Very different from what she had seen in Erhan’s cabin. No books or personal effects to clutter the space. Only a bed, a simple desk, and a cabinet of charts. Bessarion sat at his desk.

  “You don’t really decorate much, do you?” she asked.

  Bessarion looked up from a chart he was studying. “Why should I? This isn’t my home. My house is in the city. My family is there. I’d rather not get too comfortable on my ship. I prefer to miss them so that I can be motivated to finish my assignment and get home.”

  Nereyda raised her eyebrows. “Not a bad sentiment.”

  “What business do you have here?”

  “Sibylla gave us our own mission. We are to go out in search of one of the Stalstan ships to attempt to learn about it, and preferably either capture or destroy it.”

  “A tall order, considering none of our own have been able to do so, and we live and breathe in these waters. Why does she think you can succeed where we have failed? Are you somehow better than we are?”

  Nereyda shrugged. “Not better. But I think we might have an edge where you don’t. And I can do things that I haven’t seen anyone else do.”

  The captain let out a huff. “That confident in your abilities?”

  “You’ll see,” she said with a smile. “And your leader said that we need to take somebody with us, to help and observe us, I guess. She wanted us to take someone from your crew.”

  “You can take one of the sailors outside. I’m sure any of them can do the job.”

  “I think she wanted someone with a little more experience. Could you spare Photios?” She glanced at the bald Islander next to her.

  Bessarion narrowed his eyes. “You want me to give you my own quartermaster?”

  “He knows his way around. Given what we’re up against, I want the most capable person I can find. And wouldn’t you and Sibylla trust his word more than that of some random sailor?”

  “Perhaps we could do that.” He rubbed his chin.

  “We aren’t sailing for another couple of weeks,” said Photios, energy simmering in his low voice, “since we are going to provision the ship.”

  “And I need my quartermaster for that,” said Bessarion.

  “I can leave a list of things we need. My assistants can figure the rest out. It’s just a standard restocking of supplies. The ship doesn’t need any significant work done, just basic maintenance. I think you can spare me for a short time.”

  Bessarion leaned back and crossed his arms. “Why are you so eager to join this outsider?”

  “I’m curious as to what she can do.” Photios studied Nereyda as he said this. “If she truly has skills we don’t have, perhaps we can learn from her. And I want to be there when we capture some of these Stalstan bastards, or at the very least kill them for what they did to Iliana’s family.” A growl colored his words.

  “Ah, yes, your daughter. I remember.”

  “I’m going with them, whether you allow it or not,” said Photios. “For my Iliana.”

  Bessarion sighed but smiled at the quartermaster. “Then I might as well allow it. I don’t want to lose a good quartermaster by writing you up for something like this. Go ahead.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Three things struck Brynja before she opened her eyes. The first was that all her muscles ached and the back of her throat stung. Second, smooth and fresh linens were wrapped around her body. Finally, an aroma of cinnamon floated in the air.

  She opened her eyes to a sea of blue sheets around her. Brynja flipped over and discovered that she lay in a spacious bedroom, lit by a crackling fireplace in the corner and candles that flickered on a desk across from her. The bed she occupied alone, with its smooth sheets and mahogany frame, was large enough for at least two people.

  Brynja had no idea where she was. Her last memory was of falling into the ocean. Had she escaped her service to the Empire? If so, how had she ended up in a comfy bedroom?

  And, if she had escaped, what had happened in the battle? Where was her crew?

  She rubbed her eyes and shoved herself into a sitting position. Her muscles resisted, but she ignored the pain. Someone had changed her clothes, as she now wore a dark gray robe, which wrapped around her like an embrace. She shifted and set her feet on the ground. A fluffy red rug greeted her toes.

  The latch clicked and the door squeaked open. A middle-aged woman with a white apron over a silver dress swept in, her hair in a bun. She clutched a pail in her hand, a cloth draped over one side. The woman started as her gaze landed on Brynja.

  “Oh, you’re awake,” she said. “I didn’t expect you to be up so soon.”

  “Well, I am. Where am I?”

  “I’ll explain in a moment. All that matters right now is that you’re safe and comfortable.” She flashed a motherly grin. “The latter is my job.” The lady drifted across the room and perched herself next to Brynja on the bed. With the wet cloth from the pail, she dabbed at Brynja’s forehead.

  Brynja closed her eyes and enjoyed the cool refreshing feeling on her face.

  “How are you feeling? You had a dreadful fever when they brought you in,” the woman asked.

  “Sore, and my throat hurts.”

  “Not surprising, since they dragged you out of the ocean.” She rested the cloth on the back of Brynja’s neck. “You probably swallowed your share of salt water.” She placed the cloth back in the pail. “Let’s get you dressed. Can you stand?” She extended her hand.

  Brynja took it and groaned as she stood up. “How long have I been in this bed?”

  “A couple of days. We’ve been caring for you in shifts.”

  “Whoever you are, thank you.” Brynja gave the woman a weak smile.

  “Oh, forgive me.” She placed her hand on her chest and bowed her head. “My name is Anna.”

  “You’re very kind, Anna. I am Brynja. What should I wear?”

  “I had some of my daughter’s things brought here. One of her dresses should fit you.” Anna strode over to a closet in the corner and withdrew a simple light-blue dress and a pair of elegant shoes. “This should work, I think.”

  Brynja swallowed the urge to resist wearing a dress. Anna had taken care of her and given her clothing. It was not a time to be ungrateful.

  As she put it on with Anna’s assistance, Brynja asked, “Can you tell me where I’m at now?”

  “You’re in Kleifar, my dear—the beating heart of the Stalstan Federation.”

  Brynja nearly lost her balance. Anna gripped her arm and helped steady her. “Stalsta?” asked Brynja. “How?”

  “I guess someone picked you up out of the ocean.” Anna shrugged. “I don’t know all of the details. But my lord will talk to you soon and he will have all of the answers. I’ll let him know that you’re awake, and bring some food for you while you wait.”


  Anna grabbed her pail and swept out of the room.

  Brynja stared at the door as she plopped down on the bed.

  Stalsta. Somehow, she had ended up captured by the enemy. Yet they did not treat her as a prisoner.

  A few minutes later, Anna backed through the door with a tray. She padded her way across the room and placed it on the desk. “Why don’t you sit up here? Don’t want to make a mess in the bed.”

  Brynja floated across the room, her thoughts still buzzing in her head. A steaming meat pie waited for her, along with an apple and a tin mug of water. Her stomach growled as she slid into the chair in front of the desk.

  “Do you need anything else?” Anna asked.

  “No,” Brynja said distantly, “this looks great. Thank you.”

  As Anna left, Brynja dug into the meat pie. Her hunger had been slow to wake up, but the sight and smell of the meal had woken the beast. She devoured her way through it.

  When she had eaten about half of the meat pie, the door creaked wide again. A man with rigid posture stood in the doorway. He wore a gray uniform with what seemed like more medals than empty fabric. His strong chin and nose projected a calm confidence. “May I come in?” he asked in a voice as steady as steel.

  Brynja managed a small smile. “Of course.”

  The man strode up to her and extended his hand. “I am Audo of Kleifar, Foreign Minister of the Stalstan Federation.”

  Brynja set down her fork, then shook his hand. “First, I’m in Stalsta. Now I’m talking with the Foreign Minister. How did I get here?”

  Audo smiled down at her. “One of our ships picked you up after the battle with the Cambisians, then brought you here.”

  “How did the battle go? When I fell into the water, it was not going well for Stalsta.” She shoveled the next bite into her hungry maw.

  “It did not go well for us. The Cambisians won.” His tone conveyed a complete lack of concern.

  “So is your fleet destroyed?”

  A twinkle was in his eyes. “The part of it that the Cambisians knew about, yes.”

  Brynja scraped the last bits of meat pie onto her spoon and licked it clean. “Sorry,” she said as she stifled a burp.

  “You have nothing to apologize for. You were out for a good amount of time. Now that you’re done, will you walk with me?”

  “I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

  “Perfect. You can leave the dishes. Anna will clean up shortly.”

  Brynja shoved herself out of her chair, but stumbled as her muscles stiffened.

  Audo steadied her with a hand on her shoulder, then offered his arm. She linked her elbow with his and followed his lead out of the room.

  A deep red rug ran up and down the hallway. Candles, held in golden sconces, lit the corridor at precise intervals. “Have you ever been to Stalsta?” he asked.

  “I was born here, but it’s been years since I’ve been back.”

  “Ah, then I’m excited for you to see how we’ve developed lately. It’s quite something to behold.”

  The rug had a cushy give beneath Brynja’s feet as she angled her face toward Audo. “Why did you rescue me? What’s special about me that I get to meet the Foreign Minister?”

  “Our sailors hauled you from the sea out of an obligation to help a person in need. They saw you fall from your ship and that you did not wear a Cambisian uniform. Once their information trickled up to me, I sensed an opportunity.”

  “An opportunity for what?”

  “I’ll get there shortly. How has your time been in the Empire’s service?”

  She tightened her grip on Audo’s arm. “Service is too good of a word. I spent too long slaving away in the mines. They broke me and made me betray someone I care about. Destroying Stalstan civilian ships and leaving innocent people to drown hasn’t been any better.”

  He stopped them as they entered the mansion’s entrance hall. A staircase curled upward, flanked by two suits of armor. “I can tell it’s affected you. Anna cried as she told me about the scars she uncovered while changing and cleaning you. Someone needs to stand up to the Empire. We might have what it takes.”

  He opened the front door and led her down the walkway, between meticulously trimmed hedges, to a driveway that wound its way downhill. Audo’s estate sat on a hill that overlooked the rest of the city and the harbor.

  Brynja’s eyes widened as she took in the scene of the city of Kleifar. Rows of smokestacks puffed black smoke into the city. The clang of hammers on steel rang through the air. Saws carving through wood provided an accompaniment. Coal, wood, and oil created an industrial tapestry of smells.

  Out in the harbor, strange steel ships floated, their decks barely above the surface. A squad of soldiers marched in a kind of armor Brynja had never seen. The steel cut angular lines and the joints were hinged. Glowing orange and red lines traced the metal on the soldiers’ limbs and spines.

  “What is all of this?” she asked.

  He puffed his chest with pride. “This is how we will fight the Empire. Double-forged steel and other technologies will give us the edge we need.”

  “How did you make it all?”

  “We have a new resource that has helped us immensely.”

  Her mind wandered back to the previous conversation. “Did you recover any other members of my crew?”

  Audo’s shoulders dropped an inch. “No, I’m afraid not. No Cambisian ships went down, and you were the only person our sailors found at the site of the battle.”

  “So they’re still stuck working for them.” She clenched her jaw.

  “True, but that also means they probably survived. You can still get back to them.”

  “How? I’m in Stalsta and who knows where they are.”

  “I can get you back to the Cambisian mainland, if you wish to find your crew.”

  “You would do that?” She gave him an incredulous look. “You’d just give me a free ride? I’ve been through too much to believe that.”

  Audo chuckled. “No, it’s not an entirely free ride. Have you heard of the rebellion that is happening in the Empire?”

  “Yes. What does that have to do with me?”

  “Much. When you get back, I want you to do what you can to help the rebellion succeed. How you do that is up to you.”

  She inhaled and wrinkled her nose at the oily scent that clung to the atmosphere. “You want me to weaken the Empire so you can invade it.”

  He gave a sharp nod. “Precisely.”

  “I’d like to help, especially if it means getting back to my crew. But it sounds like a big job with a lot of risk.”

  His face softened as he gazed down at her. “It would not be an easy task. I understand if you think it is too much. You’re welcome to stay here as my guest. If you get bored, you can even captain a new ship with a new crew.”

  The thought of a new crew weighed her with guilt. “I want to help my old crew, but I’m also worried that I’d be trading one master for another.”

  “I can understand that fear. But you should know that I don’t ask you to sign any contract with me. I have no way of holding you to your promise to aid the rebellion. Whether or not you undermine the Empire, you will owe no debt to me. I only hope that our mutual dislike of the Cambisian Empire can lead to a beneficial outcome for both of us.”

  Brynja mulled over Audo’s offer as she gazed at the hazy industrial city below. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  Audo grinned. “Perfect. I’ll arrange for one of our ironclads to sneak you back to the continent. In the meantime, please enjoy yourself as my guest. You may come and go as you wish. Let Anna know if you need anything. I’m eager to see what you can do to help us bring the Empire down.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  In the Shattered Sea, shadows hung at the edge of the fog. For now, all of them were islands, but Nereyda watched for anything more sinister. They closed on the most recent village that had been savaged in a Stalstan raid.

  Wisps of smoke still
drifted into the sky from the husks of buildings that sat near the beach. Embers smoldered among the once-sturdy structures.

  “Should we get out?” asked Jax.

  “Not unless you see something moving. If it’s like the last one I saw, there won’t be much left.”

  They passed by in silence as they gazed at the charred graveyard that had been the village. A section of wall that had survived the conflagration featured a painting of a bear cub. An acrid stench reached her nose, the scents of burning flesh and sulfur. Charred skeletons lay among the blackened buildings. One had almost reached the water, its arm stretched out on the sand.

  “Any ideas on how to track these guys down?” asked Photios.

  “Can someone fetch the chart from my quarters?”

  “I’ll get it,” said Fariha.

  When Fariha returned with the map, Nereyda spread it out in the air and examined it, orienting the map and her stance so that they matched their heading. She placed their position on the map and found where the wind was blowing, then looked at the passages that would lead them through the islands and to the marked villages. “Are there any currents around here I should know about? I don’t see them marked on the map,” she asked.

  Photios strode next to her and glanced over the map to orient himself. “There is one current here, which swings around this island,” he said as he pointed at the map and indicated the direction of the current. “And another one here that sort of swirls around before settling on a direction, where it finally heads this way.” He indicated the other current.

  “So where they went depends on if they were familiar with this place or not. If I were the Stalstans, I would try to keep the same captain, or perhaps captains depending on how many ships they have, doing these runs. It would make the most sense to have the people with experience doing them, and it would keep these raids secret if that’s what they intend. Does that make sense to you, Photios?” asked Nereyda.

  “I think so. Where do you think they would have gone to?”

  Nereyda looked over the map, then back toward the village, watching the smoke as it blew gently in the wind—a strangely peaceful look that made the horrific setting all the more haunting. “I have an idea,” she said. She passed the map to Photios, grabbed the wheel, and ordered the crew to bring the ship to half sail.