I jump down from Pearl and run over to the gates. I grab the bars and shake them, as if I could knock them down with my bare hands.
Of course they are locked tight, and the hard iron does not budge.
I scream out: Leif’s name.
Someone pulls me back, I don’t know who.
“You promised!” I scream out into the dark, into the emptiness. “You promised to be here!”
Someone pulls harder. “Raven! We’ve got to go!”
“They’re not here.”
“No, but someone’s coming.”
There’s a flash of weapons in the dark, beyond the gates. I stare at them for a second, blinking the damp from my eyes.
Then I turn and swing myself atop Pearl, reluctantly pointing her toward the port.
Alone, without Leif.
Chapter 8
It’s midnight when we arrive at the port. As we emerge from the trees I look over the small inland harbor. It’s lit only by moonlight, all the dock lamps are extinguished, and even the pub is quiet and nearly dark. I’m not surprised, with the way my night is going, to see there are no ships docked.
We stable the horses behind the inn, then head around the front to enter the pub on the bottom floor. Like most of those who live and work at the port, the inn owners are no fans of King Araroa, weary of the King’s taxes and regulations, and now the shipping restrictions he placed earlier this year.
Only a handful of patrons remain in the dining room below, talking quietly in the dim firelight, nursing mugs of ale. The pubkeep is standing behind the bar, wiping down the counter. His face lights up when he sees us enter. “Well, I’ll be! It’s sure good to see you, Raven. You are well, I assume?”
I slump against the counter, all my energy drained out of me. “I’ve been better, to be honest.”
“I’ve got just the thing for that.” He grabs a large pewter mug down from the rack, filling it with amber liquid from a large wooden barrel perched behind him. He slides the overfull mug toward me on the counter, white froth spilling down the sides. “Our most recent batch of spiced apple cider. It’ll cheer you.”
I take a small sip. It is delicious. Unfortunately, the first thought that comes to mind is how much Leif would enjoy this. I do my best to crack a smile. “Thank you. This really does hit the spot.”
The pubkeep scans the six of us, then acknowledges Imogen with a wink. “Where’s your nephew, dear lady? And your …” He raises his dark bushy brows at me in question.
“Fiancé,” I fill in.
His face erupts in a huge grin. “Well, congratulations are certainly in order! That’s wonderful news.” He tilts his chin toward my mug of cider. “On the house, to celebrate. One for each of the rest of yous too.”
“There’s not much to celebrate tonight, unfortunately.” I look over at Imogen, unsure of how much to tell him.
“Go on,” she says. “You can trust Mr. Howard. He might have information for us, besides.”
“I think we’d better sit down. This could take a while,” I say.
“Sure thing.” He motions for us to seat ourselves at a long table nearby and sets about filling mugs of cider for everyone else.
“I know it’s late, and there’s a lot of us, but have you got any supper available?”
“For you, of course.” He gives me an exaggerated wink. “I’ll have Mrs. Howard heat up some plates for you all.” He turns his head and yells our dinner request through the doorway leading into the kitchen.
“Be right up!” his wife calls back.
While we settle around the table, Mr. Howard fills a mug of cider for himself and sits down with us. I start at the beginning, and end with the latest: that Leif and Tui and Callum have gone missing.
When I’m done, the pubkeep leans back, crossing his arms. “I can tell you this, Raven. If any of those Loyalists show up here, they’ll be shown the door and given the boot straight away. I can confirm all that you’ve heard—they’re up to no good, and I’m not surprised they’re moving in to the Bastion since they seem to have run out of trouble to cause in the rest of Nadir. Something’s up at the Palace, though, at least from what I’ve heard.”
“Really? And what have you heard?”
Mr. Howard shakes his head. “It’s just a rumor some of the fellas have been passing around. Nothing substantiated. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, is all. But I do know old Araroa hasn’t been seen in weeks. Normally gives his address every Sunday from the Palace—nothing but hogwash, might I add—but his appearances have been cancelled as of late. Only time he’s ever missed spewing garbage—oh, excuse my language, m’lady—”
“No offense taken. I’ve got worse to say about the man’s nonsense, believe me.” I take another sip of the refreshingly crisp cider, then continue. “What I really want to know is if any ships have called in recently? With Loyalists aboard?”
“No, m’lady. It’s been over a week since the last called in. ’Twas the Albatross, Captain Wilkins’s ship. Nothing out of the ordinary, usual cargo and all that. Missing Nile’s shipments, of course.”
“Of course.” He’s referring to the illegal spirits Leif’s father’s been distilling and shipping away to the outer islands for years, not to mention supplying old Araroa himself. “Nile’s well, if you’re curious. He’s with the … the others in a safe place, away from the Bastion for now,” I reassure him.
The pubkeep smiles and nods, obviously glad for the news.
“I’ll need to know if any unusual ships call in. It’s likely my family will be aboard when it does. Please wake me at any hour.”
“You have my word, m’lady. I’ll alert the dockworkers so they’ll know what’s going on too. We won’t allow your loved ones to get anywhere near the Bastion. Not only that, I know a few crooked inspectors as well. I’ll get in touch with them too, pass ‘em a bit of dosh. We’re tight here like that, here at the port. Like I said, we won’t let these … these pansy loyals get anywhere near Araroa. Ah, and look! More good news for you.”
Mrs. Howard’s appeared with an armload of plates. Her husband jumps up to help her, and a moment later I find a large bowl of chicken and dumplings steaming before me.
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Howard. I know it’s very late and you must be famished after a long day serving.”
She waves her arms in front of her. “No, no, m’lady. ’Tis nothing. I’ve been listening in to your story from the back—I hope you don’t mind—and you’re the one who must be famished.”
“Of course not.” I smile at her as I recall my previous stay at their inn; it was her small kindnesses that helped me nurse Leif back to health after his horrible days being beaten in the dungeon.
“If you don’t mind my saying, last time I was at the market, it was all the ladies were talking about, the King going missing. And”—she lowers her voice, although everyone else besides our party has departed—“they are so excited to see you on the throne when old Araroa meets his well-deserved demise.” She’s patting her hands together, in obvious glee.
I choke on the piece of chicken I’m chewing. Coughing, Imogen pats me on the back, and through my steaming eyes, I see Imogen’s face beaming.
“Well, I never expected this excellent news,” she says after I’ve caught my breath again.
Me—I’m sure of only one thing: I’m leaving to find Leif and Tui tomorrow. Whatever’s going on in the Bastion, I need to get them out.
After tossing and turning all night, with terrible visions of where Leif and Tui might be, I’m more than happy to be up in the morning. Mrs. Howard has already brought my breakfast in, and I eat as much as I can, pack my things, then head downstairs to ready Pearl for another trip to the Bastion.
“Where do you think you’re going?” The harsh voice behind me makes my face instantly turn red. I finish tightening the strap on Pearl’s saddle, then slowly swivel around.
Imogen’s standing in the doorway to the stable, her hands on her hips. “Well?” she asks again
.
“I’m sure you can guess.”
“Over my dead body are you going into the Bastion to find those three. Look, Raven, I’ve sworn to protect you, and if I allow you to do such an utterly foolish thing, well, I can’t imagine going back on my word more.”
I move my hand to grip onto Fortissima, wanting to feel her strength. For her to help me make this decision. Even though I know deep inside Imogen is probably right. “You can’t order me around. I’m—I’m heir to the throne of Nadir. Woman King of Nuimana.”
A small smile creeps onto Imogen’s lips. “You’re right, m’lady. I can’t order you around. I can only advise you. And in this instance, I am suggesting, vehemently, that for you to return to the Bastion now would be suicide. We know it’s crawling with Loyalists. Hunters too. None of them would hesitate to kill you.”
I press my lips together, tilt my chin up a bit. Her words make me feel even worse, knowing Tui, Leif, and Callum are somewhere inside there with them. I sigh. “I guess I should at least wait here for the ship to arrive. It’s why I’m here, after all.”
Imogen nods. “I really do think that would be best. The situation here—in all of Nadir—is very unstable at the moment, particularly until Leif returns with news. Why don’t you come back inside for a coffee? I’ll put Pearl away again.”
I stroke Pearl on the neck and she nuzzles my hair softly. Once again, I’m thankful that, at least, my beloved horse and I are still together.
“Where’ve you been?” Catriona’s voice greets me as I step inside the front door of the pub. She’s leaning back in a chair, booted feet up on a table, mug of coffee in her hand.
I sit down opposite her and she fills another mug with coffee from the pitcher, slides it toward me. I take a long sip, not really wanting to tell her.
“I was … checking on Pearl,” I finally say.
She raises her brows—clearly not buying it. “Ben fed and mucked the horses this morning. Besides, why are you carrying your pack?” I’d slid my pack under my chair in a way I hoped was inconspicuous. Failed, obviously.
“All right. I was going to head to the Bastion to try to find the boys. I admit, I hadn’t really planned it out very well.”
Catriona laughs. “I’ll say.” She places her boots back onto the floor and leans in close to me. “Send me. I’ll go.” Her face and voice are dead serious.
I don’t even hesitate in my reply. “Deal.”
She thrusts her hand toward me and I take it; we shake in dramatic fashion, ending with a laughing fit. It’s nice for the mood to lighten up a bit, although I’m trying not to think about what I’m really asking her to do.
“What’s so funny?” Imogen appears next to our table. After I fill her in with the plan, she nods in approval. “Catriona’s perfect. She’s knows her way around well. I’ll bet she’ll be back with the fellas in no time.”
Catriona throws her head back, slurping her last dregs of coffee. She stands, slamming her mug down on the table. “I’ll grab my things, then be off. I’m going on foot—will you keep an eye on Hazel?”
“Of course. I’ll let Ben know.” It’s been nice, to be honest, to have a real horseman like Ben along with us. The horses have never looked better, thanks to his care and attention.
Catriona gives me a quick hug, then she’s bounding up the stairs to her room.
“Well. I guess we wait,” I say, motioning to Imogen to take a seat. She does, pouring herself a cup of coffee. She signals toward my mug, and tops it off after I nod in acceptance.
I look around the dining room; there’s just a handful of other patrons, all seated near the open windows at the front. We’re at a small round table in back, but the briny sea air drifting in has no trouble reaching my nose. I breathe the now-familiar scent in deeply, and close my eyes for a moment.
A memory comes flooding back, one so unreal it feels like a dream now, when Leif and I were back on Nuimana—our island, as I’ve come to think of it now. Sufa and Marina have long gone to bed, it’s past midnight, and we’re still awake. It’s so hot, we can’t sleep. We take turns fanning each other, Leif wearing only his drawers and me in my nightdress. We’re talking, just idle chitchat.
“Come with me,” Leif says, suddenly jumping up. He pushes the drifts of mosquito netting aside and holds out his hand. I grin, wondering what exactly he’s got in mind. I take his hand.
He leads me outside, onto my veranda. Right into the open where anyone could see us together, at night, half-naked. He jumps off the ledge and I hesitate, looking around. “Come on. Nobody’ll see us.” He tugs on my hand and I follow, landing on the grass beside him.
Then we’re running down the bank, toward the sandy beach below. My laughter and Leif’s laughter spill out into the moonlit night, but we don’t care. The sound of our joy mixes with the sound of the waves crashing, getting closer.
We keep running until we reach the sand: deep and soft and white, like candy sugar. I plod through it, the sand kicks up all around us, Leif keeps pulling me along all the way to the sea.
We reach the water, wading in together, still tightly holding onto the other’s hand, in all the way to our waists. Our faces are dripping with sweat, the air is so humid and warm, but the sea swallows us up in its coolness.
A wave comes, the force tries to push me over, tries to hurl me back to the beach. I grip onto Leif’s arms, and he holds, steadies me. The water breaks against us but we’re solid, the two of us. It continues on, we’re alone then, the sea is calm for now.
Leif brushes my hair back from my face. It’s loose and free and now very salty. His thumb stops on my lip and I take it in my mouth, sucking the salt off. He groans, pulling me tighter to him and I don’t resist. Not this time.
His other hand snakes down my back, leaving a trail of sensation with every inch as it moves down. He’s pressing against me, our wet clothes like tissue paper between us. I reach my hand up to the back of his own salty head and pull his face toward mine, fiercely. Our mouths meet and we taste each other, salty and sweet, which only leads to more hunger.
Another wave comes rushing for us—we’re ready for this one too—it crashes over us this time, but our feet hold us steady to the sea floor. But it doesn’t leave—it keeps going—the wave crashing through my entire body, and I yell out into the night, into the sea around us.
I have dissolved into the ocean …
“Raven?”
I open my eyes, shocked to be transported back into this dimly lit dining room. The green eyes before me are just like the ones I’ve been remembering … but of course they’re Imogen’s.
“I’m so sorry. I was just—”
“Don’t worry about it, you’ve got a lot on your mind.” She’s fighting off a smile, I can tell. “I was just suggesting we do a little sword practice this morning. It’s been a while and you need to keep your skills fresh, just in case.” She nods at Fortissima, resting by my side, as always.
Although it has been weeks since I’ve had a good sparring session with Imogen, when I hold Fortissima before me and start to swing, it all comes back. In the small yard behind the inn, we spar for hours. I’m so focused that I don’t even notice how many people—port workers mainly—have come to watch us, until they’re all clapping when Imogen and I finally stop to catch our breaths.
“Our Woman King, Raven Araroa!” Imogen shouts, sweeping her arm toward me dramatically. I’m thankful my face is already red and covered with sweat so they can’t see my embarrassment at her bravura. But then I figure I may as well play it up and bow to the crowd.
“At your service,” I tell them, causing a round of cheers to go up.
I spot Mrs. Howard in the crowd nearest me and go over to whisper a question in her ear. When she nods with hearty affirmation, I turn back to everyone.
“Please join me for a feast this evening, here at the Howards’ inn. My treat to celebrate.” I don’t speak the words aloud, but the crowd must know I’m referring to Araroa’s mysterious disa
ppearance, as another round of cheers erupts. I smile brightly at everyone, and wipe away a bead of sweat dripping down my nose.
A face catches my eye in the crowd, one most definitely not smiling. I don’t recognize him, and for once, I don’t care. He might not like what he’s looking at—the true heir to Nadir’s throne—but he’s greatly outnumbered here.
After enjoying a leisurely bath in my room, except for checking out my window for ships every five minutes, I head down to the inn’s dining room that evening. Music’s already started up, and it grows louder as I descend the stairs in a freshly-laundered tunic over my standard gray woolen pants. I’ve polished Fortissima so her hilt gleams brighter than ever.
Somebody shouts as I emerge at the foot of the stairs: “Long live Woman King Araroa!” The music quickly dies down, everyone turning toward me.
I smile and raise a hand in greeting. “Thank you for coming, everyone! I’m honored to be here, to represent your hopes for a prosperous and kind Nadir. We have much work ahead of us. And thank you to Mr. and Mrs. Howard for hosting! ’Tis very generous of you. Enjoy the night and be merry!” The room erupts in cheer, the music and dancing begin again, and once more the room fills with laughter and voices.
I pause for a moment, wishing once again that Leif were here to enjoy this with me, hoping that he’s all right. And once again I’m nearly overwhelmed with frustration that all I can do is wait for him … or news of him.
It’s late when I finally fall into bed, after checking the dock for ships one final time. My head is buzzing with all the talk and words of congratulations, of my crowning on Nuimana, of my standing up to Araroa’s treatment of the Treasoners, the story of which has swelled to legendary proportions. I spend a lot of time telling people it was nothing, really.
But still, I’m smiling when I fall asleep. For once, it feels like I’m on the right path.
The angle of the sun when I wake tells me it’s already late morning. Damn! I completely overslept. I jump out of bed and dash to the window: a ship’s at the dock! And not one I recognize, either.
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