The Throne of Amenkor

by Joshua Palmatier

  “But now more supplies are missing?” I asked. “From a different warehouse?”

  “Yes. But I’m not surprised. We’re far enough into winter that the people have begun to feel the effects of the rationing. Those that aren’t willing to work for their fair share are becoming more desperate. And we all know what people are capable of when they’re desperate.” His steady gaze fell on me as he spoke. I felt my stomach tighten, felt my hand slide toward my dagger, still always within reach.

  “But I thought it was the guardsmen’s job to keep the supplies safe from such . . . desperation,” Avrell interceded. His glare had darkened at Baill’s veiled slight; now Baill’s eyes hardened at Avrell’s implied insult.

  “Enough,” I said. “What matters is that we find out what’s happened to these missing supplies. What do you suggest?”

  Avrell thought for a moment. “We need to do a complete inventory. All of the merchants need to check the supplies in their warehouses against the master lists at the same time. Once we know what’s missing, perhaps we can find out how it’s being stolen from the warehouses without the guardsmen’s knowledge, and where it’s being taken afterward.”

  I nodded. “We’ll deal with that later. Right now, I want to get the ship’s expedition organized and away.” I turned to Catrell and Baill. “Have your guardsmen meet me at the docks by noon. Nathem, work with Borund to get the supplies for the ship loaded by then. The ship’s name is The Maiden. The captain is Mathew.”

  Baill and the rest of the captains rose and left, Captain Catrell giving me a short bow before departing. Nathem did the same. Avrell, Erick, and Eryn stayed, Eryn deep in thought.

  “Mathew is the one who survived the storm and brought in the last shipment from the south, isn’t he?” she asked.

  I nodded, recalling his haggard look on the docks as his crew was greeted by the mob of townspeople on the wharf. “Yes.”

  She caught my gaze. I saw a mute apology in her eyes. It was the closest she’d come to acknowledging that she had overstepped her bounds by talking to Avrell about the shipwreck in Colby and the vision of the city burning.

  “Have you given any more thought to the fact that if the ship is attacked there will more than likely be someone using the Sight on the enemy’s side?” she asked.

  I hadn’t, but I didn’t see what could be done about it. “They’ll have to rely on the guardsmen to protect them.”

  Eryn hesitated, then nodded, stood, and departed with Avrell.

  Which left me and Erick alone.

  I didn’t look toward him, felt him shift his weight from one foot to the other behind me, his clothes rustling.

  The silence between us stretched. Until it became too uncomfortable for me to bear.

  I stood.

  “It had to be me,” he said, his voice rough.

  I spun, the coldness I’d felt earlier returning with a bitter taste in the back of my throat, like metallic water. “It could have been someone else. It could have been anyone else.”

  He shook his head. “No. You’ve already tagged me with the Fire. You already trust me. You know how I’ll react. And I can’t be your personal bodyguard forever.”

  My stomach constricted. I wanted to tell him he was more than a personal bodyguard. I wanted to tell him that I felt relaxed around him, more confident, more certain. I wanted to tell him I was afraid of losing him, that he was a mentor to me. No. More than that. That he was a father to me.

  I wanted to tell him many things, but all I said was, “I don’t want you to go,” my voice tight and ragged.

  He smiled, and in his eyes I saw that he knew why I didn’t want him to go, that he understood all of the things that I couldn’t bring myself to say. And he knew why I couldn’t say them as well.

  He reached out, pushed a few loose strands of hair from my forehead.

  I took the single step between us and hugged him tight, head against his shoulder, tears I refused to shed burning in my eyes. He stiffened for a moment, then enfolded me in his arms, one hand stroking my hair.

  I closed my eyes, drew in a deep breath to remind myself of his scent: the sharp tang of oranges. And something else, something subtle, that I hadn’t noticed on the Dredge, that I could only smell with the power of the throne behind me. Lavender.

  I sighed.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said, his chest rumbling beneath my face, his voice thick and coarse.

  And even though I knew it was a lie, I felt better.

  * * *

  “Where in hells is he?” I growled.

  At my side, Erick scanned the raucous crowds on the wharf, men and women going about their usual business, a few of them pausing to stare at the activity surrounding The Maiden and the large group of guardsmen and soldiers that surrounded me, Erick, and Avrell on the dock. Captain Catrell was already here with his group of eight city guardsmen, all dressed in armor, the metal glinting dully in the pale winter sunlight. All eight men were bristling with confidence, all in their mid-twenties or early thirties, all with unforgiving eyes and an impressive array of scars in visible places. On the Dredge, I would have given them all a wide berth.

  “Your directions were clear,” Avrell muttered from my other side. “He’s doing this on purpose. I think—”

  “Here he comes,” Erick cut in. Then his voice darkened with contempt. “With his twelve guardsmen.”

  I scanned down the wharf, saw the usual eddies of the crowd interrupted near the end of the dock a moment before Captain Baill emerged, twelve palace guardsmen trailing behind him.

  Avrell hissed, stiffened in outrage. I felt my body tense as well, my jaw clenching.

  I placed a hand on Avrell’s arm to restrain him as Baill and his men came to a halt before us all. The loading of the ship continued around us unabated.

  “Mistress,” Baill said.

  “Captain Baill.” I scanned the group of men behind him. “And are these the men you’ve chosen for this venture?”

  They were a ragtag group dressed in armor and with swords in sheaths. At least half of the men were my age or younger, inexperienced youths with excitement in their eyes, nervously shifting from foot to foot. The majority of the rest were old, at least in their forties, their hair mostly gray, their eyes tired, grudging but willing. They didn’t fidget like the younger men, but it was questionable whether some of them could draw their own swords. Only three of them were of the same strain as the men chosen by Captain Catrell. But these had a shifty look in their eyes, their expressions dark, eyes flicking toward every movement. They reeked of trouble and my nostrils flared.

  Gutterscum always recognizes gutterscum.

  “Twelve palace guardsmen,” Baill said, “as you requested.”

  I turned my gaze on him.

  He met the gaze evenly, a hint of challenge in his eyes.

  “Then let’s get them on the ship,” I said in answer, turning toward Erick.

  His eyes blazed with anger, but he said nothing.

  Catrell barked out a command and his eight men gathered together their small packs and marched up the lowered plank onto the deck of the ship, where the ship’s crew—men from Amenkor mixed with the usual darker-skinned and slighter forms of Zorelli men from the south—scrambled to prepare the sails and rigging for departure. Captain Baill motioned his contingent aboard as well. They sidled up the plank, the younger men chattering, the older ones and the troublemakers looking on in contempt, or with no expression at all.

  “Not a very impressive command,” Erick murmured, so low that only Avrell and I could hear.

  “He meant it as a slight,” Avrell spat.

  “I meant it as a warning,” Baill said behind us. All three of us turned. “This is a fool’s errand. There’s nothing to be gained here, nothing to be learned. I’ll not waste good men on an expedition bound to fail.”

 
With that, he moved down the dock and vanished into the crowds.

  “He gave us his least experienced and most feeble fighters,” Avrell said.

  “And his troublemakers,” Erick added.

  “Will you be able to handle them?”

  Erick nodded. “I shouldn’t have any problems. Catrell gave us some of his best men. That should be sufficient.”

  As he spoke, Captain Catrell approached and nodded. “All of the guardsmen are aboard, Mistress.”

  “Good.”

  He nodded again, then retreated toward my usual escort of guardsmen, led by Keven, keeping themselves out of the way of the dockworkers to one side.

  Erick watched Catrell silently. Then his stance shifted, became more formal. “I put Keven in charge of your escort while I’m gone. We went through our training together, at least until I was chosen to become a Seeker. He’ll guard you with his life. I trust him, and his advice. Listen to him. I’ve also chosen all of the guardsmen in his contingent, so you should be surrounded by those you can trust implicitly.”

  I tried to speak, but something hard had lodged in my throat. I stared up into his face instead, saw him start to smile.

  Then his gaze shifted to something over my head.

  I turned and saw Eryn, her personal Servant Laurren, and an escort of guardsmen making their way down the dock. Laurren was carrying a satchel.

  Eryn’s movements were stiff with purpose. “Good, the ship hasn’t left yet,” she said as she came to a halt in front of us.

  “You didn’t need to come down here,” I said.

  “Yes, I did.” She met my gaze, held it steadily. “I want to go on the expedition.”

  I stilled, felt my face go slack, devoid of expression. “Why?”

  Eryn lifted her head. “Because we know that whoever is attacking these ships is using some form of the Sight, a form we’ve never seen before if they can truly control fire. If there’s to be any hope of the ship surviving, it needs some form of protection from that. I’m the best chance they’ve got.”

  Hope flared inside my chest. If Eryn were on the ship, if she could protect them from someone else using the Sight. . . .

  It might give the men on the ship a fighting chance.

  “You can’t send her,” Erick said flatly.

  Both Eryn and I sent him a scathing glare. “Why in hells not?” Eryn spat.

  “Because Varis needs you here. For training, for advice on how to rule, for any of a hundred reasons. You can’t be spared for a suicide mission.”

  Eryn frowned, her glare growing heated. Then she growled in exasperation, turned to me and spat, “Then take Laurren. She knows almost as much as I do. She can help.”

  In Eryn’s eyes, I saw the real reason she’d wanted to go. She’d wanted to atone for speaking to Avrell. But Erick was right. I couldn’t spare her. There was still too much I needed to learn.

  I shifted to Laurren. She straightened as my gaze fell on her. Her short-cropped brown hair caught in a breeze from the harbor and the freckles on her cheeks stood out sharply in the sunlight, somehow in opposition to the hardness in her eyes. She knew the risks of the mission. The knowledge had pulled the skin around her mouth taut. “And do you want to do this?”

  Her rounded face tightened, eyes flashing. “Of course,” she said with conviction. “I live to serve the throne.”

  I grunted. “Do you need to get your own clothes?”

  “No, Mistress. I’m about the same size as Eryn, I can use hers.”

  I nodded, was about to motion her toward the ship when Erick said sharply, “You should tag her with the Fire as well. It will give you another advantage . . . in case something happens to me.”

  I frowned, chose to ignore his last statement. “Are you willing?”

  Laurren glanced once toward Eryn, but nodded.

  I dove beneath the river, felt the Fire that surrounded the throne, felt the voices, sensed Cerrin, Liviann, Atreus, and the rest of Seven watching.

  Do you want help? Cerrin asked.

  No, I said, not speaking out loud.

  I plied the river, created the funnel as Cerrin had done earlier, conscious of the Seven watching, of all of the voices watching behind them. The eddies only wavered once, but then I steadied myself, let the Fire course down the tendril after it attached to Laurren.

  Distantly, I heard her gasp, heard Erick say, “Don’t worry. It doesn’t hurt . . . much.”

  Then I sliced the Fire at the mouth of the funnel, felt the funnel collapse, a small flame of the Fire settling near Laurren’s heart.

  The Seven murmured with approval as I let the river go.

  “I can’t feel anything,” Laurren said, her voice detached.

  “It’s there,” Eryn said. “If I concentrate hard enough, I can feel it. I can’t see it, but I can sense that it’s there.”

  I nodded toward the ship. After a momentary hesitation, Laurren stalked up the plank, halted at the top to scan the deck, then strode purposefully toward the foredeck.

  “That may make a significant difference if we do run into trouble,” Erick said.

  Eryn snorted, then bit her lip with worry. “I hope so. It’s a huge sacrifice on my part. She’s the only Servant who knows how to make a proper cup of tea.”

  I laughed, a short sharp sound, a horrible nausea twisting my stomach as I lost sight of Laurren in the frenzy of activity on the deck. The realization that I’d most likely sent Laurren to her death along with Erick had just sunk in.

  Borund and Mathew appeared at the top of the plank, began to make their way down. On the dock, the last of the crates were being hoisted up into the hold, or hauled up other planks to the deck. Activity was shifting from the dock to the ship itself, men clambering up the rigging, ropes tied off. The sense of excitement began to climb.

  “We shouldn’t have any troubles outside the harbor,” Mathew was saying as he and Borund approached. He glanced up toward the sky. “Weather is holding steady today. But farther south . . .” He shrugged.

  “Do the best you can,” Borund said. He made a deep bow as they drew near. “Mistress.”

  “Borund. And Captain Mathew. Is everything ready?”

  “Yes, Mistress. All provisions have been loaded, the guardsmen are aboard. We’re ready to set sail.”

  I nodded, the lump returning to the back of my throat. I tried not to look at Erick. “Then good luck.”

  Mathew grinned. “I have a good crew. We don’t need luck.”

  He turned back to his ship, stepped away with a barked command, the men at the railings darting away, repeating the order all along the ship. Lines tethering the ship to the dock began to be unwound. More men scrambled up into the rigging. Mathew stepped to the plank, began to make his way aboard.

  Erick stepped away from the group, back rigid. He followed Mathew up the plank without a word, without glancing back.

  I swallowed hard, closed my eyes briefly, then forced myself to draw in a deep breath and steady myself.

  When I opened my eyes, Borund was watching me. He smiled, grasped my shoulder, and squeezed once.

  The plank was withdrawn. Sails began to unfurl, and the ship pulled away from the dock. Slow at first, then picking up speed as the wind caught, the limp sails filling out with small muffled whumphs.

  We watched the ship as it made its way across the harbor, smaller fishing craft skimming out of its way. No one spoke.

  Then it passed out between the two juts of rocky land that enclosed the harbor, the two small guard towers on either side silhouetted against the skyline. I felt it fade from the throne’s senses.

  I dove beneath the river, reached up and out to search for the White Fires I’d used to tag Erick and Laurren. Without the full power of the throne behind me, I could barely sense them, didn’t dare Reach for either one.

 
I sighed, found Eryn, Avrell, Borund, and Catrell watching me with mixed expressions of concern and sympathy. Keven and the escorting guardsmen had moved up behind them.

  “Now all we do is wait,” I said.

  * * *

  I huddled inside the White Fire within Erick and tried not to let the motion of the ship make me sick.

  Through Erick’s eyes, I watched the deck roll, saw a wave of water approaching hard and fast from the right and felt Erick grip the handrail of the deck a moment before the wave hit. Wood shuddered beneath the onslaught, spray kicked up high over the bow, pattering down on the deck like rain. It pelted Erick’s face, sharp and stinging, and then he dragged himself toward the bow of the ship, using the handrail and a rope for support. Overhead, black clouds boiled, the sea on the horizon a cold slate gray with wind churning the tops of the waves into whitecaps. Far off to the left, sunlight pierced down through the clouds, the rays vibrant against the receding blue sky.

  “How long until the storm hits!” Erick shouted as he reached the bow of the ship.

  Mathew turned to glare at him, face deadly serious. “Not much longer!”

  Another wave crashed into the ship, sending a sheet of water over Mathew and Erick. I tasted the sea salt on my lips, felt the water seep down through my clothes, instantly soaked.

  “You should get down below!” Mathew bellowed, his voice almost lost on the wind. He motioned with his hands, then physically shoved Erick back along the deck, following behind.

  Erick hunched down, the ship lurching to the right. As he moved, I could see the black ocean now on the left, where the heart of the storm lay.

  I shuddered. Even as I watched, a thin bolt of lightning pierced down out of the clouds and struck the water, a frigid crackling blue.

  A moment before Erick reached the hatch leading down to the guardsmen’s quarters in the hold, a torrential sheet of rain fell from the sky without warning. He gasped as it stung his face, struggled to find the ladder rungs as the ship lurched and creaked beneath another wave, and then Mathew slammed the hatch closed in his face.

  I gathered myself together, then withdrew from the Fire, leaving Erick soaked, chilled, and dripping on the lower deck of The Maiden. I drew myself up into the roiling forces of the storm over the ship, fought their violent flows, then searched the horizon to the north until I’d found the white beacon of Amenkor. I sped away, leaving the ship to the storm.