Lady of the Haven (Empire Princess Book 1)

by Graham Diamond

  “He captured Rhonnda so beautifully,” she mused. “It’s exactly the way I pictured it to be, especially the part about the spires of gold and purpled towers.”

  “Interesting that you should say that,” Simon told her. “Bartok died more than twenty years ago, long before the towers were built. Some people claim his mystical powers allowed him to see the future, to a Rhonnda that even we today haven’t dreamed of.”

  Touched by this bit of Rhonnda folklore, Stacy smiled. She turned her head toward Lorna, who was sitting in the large easychair set close to the brick fireplace. The logs glowed dully, the light reflecting softly against Lorna’s face, a gentle, soft face.

  “As you can see, Stacy,” Lorna said, “we both love Rhonnda. And I doubt we’ll ever leave.”

  “I can see why. Really, I can. It’s nothing like the way Valley folk talk about it.”

  Simon laughed and refilled the goblets with hot spiced rum, a local favorite. “There’s a freshness in the air here, Stacy, like nowhere else in the Empire. To us the Valley is old. Stale, if you will. The future is here.”

  Stacy returned to the window and the sight of the high spires reaching ever upward. On either side of the river stood peaks and plateaus, jutting from the earth like great nimble fingers whose tips teased at the clouds.

  “How long will you be staying?” asked Lorna.

  Stacy shrugged. “The governor is the only one who can answer that. This business of finding the right ship and fitting it is in his hands.”

  Simon’s face grew grim. “I don’t understand all this business, Stacy. Really, I don’t. Why is the Council so intent on this voyage? There’s so much to be done right here. We’ve got our own uncharted lands to explore, and that alone would be work for any man.”

  “And the dangers, Stacy,” added Lorna. “From what you’ve told us...”

  “It shouldn’t be any more dangerous than sailing the rapids. But that’s not the point. It’s going to be a monumental achievement. The first of its kind.”

  “I understand that,” said Simon, gulping down his rum. “But why you? Let these rough rivermen do the job.”

  Stacy shook her head. “Believe it or not, Simon, they need me. That’s why I came. That’s why Casca is already searching your Free Lands for the best mountain waives he can find.”

  “Well, perhaps as time passes, I can change your mind. But we won’t argue about that now. You’ve been here two days already and you haven’t had a chance to see anything. Rhonnda Island is filled with natural wonders, you know. Like the waterfalls.”

  “I’d love to see them! I hear they’re magnificent.”

  “The best in Newfoundland,” promised Simon with a wink. “And in a month there will be the Rhonnda festival. You must be here for that. People come from as far away as Deepwater to attend.”

  Stacy laughed. “I’ve heard about the fair,” she replied. “A merchant aboard the Lady of Newfoundland told me about it. A fellow named Spooner.”

  Simon stared at her. “Spooner? Not Spooner Morningglory?”

  Stacy looked puzzled, then broke into a wide grin. “Is that what he calls himself? Morningglory? A small man with an impish smile who has a penchant for saying ‘yes, indeed’?”

  “That’s the one!” laughed Lorna, clapping her hands.

  “Why he’s one of the shrewdest merchants in Rhonnda,” said Simon. “He has a virtual monopoly on most spices shipped from the Valley. And from time to time he’s been accused of smuggling untaxed whiskey to the loggers and traders in Noatak.”

  “Why that sneaky devil!” chortled Stacy.

  “That’s common in these parts,” said Simon. “Rhonnda folk are always looking to find a way to get around Valley taxes, you know. We pay levies as the goods reach Deepwater, then we pay them again when the ships bring them to Rhonnda. Usually a small bribe will do the trick, but sometimes there’s just no way around it.”

  “Is there ever any real trouble? Rebellion, I mean?”

  “Not really. Except, of course, for that Fiana incident.”

  “It was just a few weeks ago, Stacy,” said Lorna. “Troops from the Aberdeen garrison found the bodies of two of the governor’s inspectors floating in Fiana Fjord. We know Governor Bela commissioned a Rhonnda ship to search out the pirates who did it.”

  Stacy looked aghast. “Murder?” She shuddered involuntarily, drumming her fingers against her thigh.

  “But they sent one of our best men to catch them. A man named Elias.”

  “The Brora!” cried Stacy. “As we left Deepwater, we saw the Brora heading for Dockside!”

  Simon looked at her sternly. “Did you notice what flags she was living?”

  Stacy shrugged. “Rhonnda flags, I think.”

  Simon smiled thinly; he knew the mission would be ended at last.

  “What will happen to the pirates?” asked Stacy, concerned.

  “They’ll probably be hanged. Bela can’t afford to do less. For all we know, by now they’re already dead.”

  Chapter Twelve

  From the window of the governor’s waiting room you could see the garden, a summer garden built on two levels. Wide brick steps led gently onto a grass terrace shaded by a row of tall elms. In summer the garden would come alive with a multitude of flowers, but now it seemed bare. Save for the first hints of spring grass and the colorful glitter of painstakingly landscaped rocks, it seemed merely a hollow shell of itself, waiting patiently for spring to arrive.

  Trevor stood beside the window, holding the filmy curtains aside, and peered down. A workman dressed in a plain dark tunic and quilted jacket was whistling happily as he knelt beside the barren rows and, tools in hand, pruned out a scattering of weeds. Trevor turned around and nervously paced along the side wall of the antechamber. The events of that morning raced painfully across his eyes. The hastily built wooden gallows, the somber face of the hangman, Krebbs’ scowl as the rope was placed about his neck — and the limp dangling body swaying and turning in the bright sunlight.

  Trevor shuddered and tried hard to forget.

  After a few long moments of pacing, he snapped to attention. The wide oaken doors of the governor’s chamber opened wide and an unarmed sentry passed through and bowed stiffly.

  “The governor will see you now,” he announced.

  Trevor threw his cloak over his shoulder and strode smartly into the room, the silver insignia of his rank glittering brightly on his collar.

  Bela stood up from his desk, spread out his arms and smiled broadly. “I’m sorry if I kept you waiting, Commander. Please sit down. Shall I have something to drink brought for you?”

  Trevor shook his head and slumped onto the colorful divan opposite the large stone fireplace. The embers were burning brightly, making the room warm and comfortable on this chilly day.

  Bela sat back in his velvet chair and inched it away from the desk so he could comfortably cross his legs. “You’ll be seeing your first Newfoundland summer soon, Commander,” he said almost wistfully. “You’ll like it here in summer, you know. The hills flood with dahlias and marigolds; the junipers come alive.”

  Trevor looked at him thoughtfully as the governor went on with his description of Newfoundland’s natural beauty. And after a moment, he realized that this talk of flowers and trees was Bela’s own way of masking the shock of the morning’s terrible events.

  As if reading Trevor’s thoughts, Bela faced him again and said, “It was a bad business, this hanging. But it’ll ensure that another killing won’t happen again. I hope people understand why it had to be done.”

  Trevor sighed. “I’ll never forget it as long as I live,” he whispered. “Their faces...”

  Bela scowled. “Don’t allow yourself to be haunted by all this, Trevor,” he said, using the soldier’s name in a soft personal way to show that he understood his feelings. “They had only themselves to blame. And we did what we had to do. You did a fine job, Commander. A very fine job. I’d like to have a man like you assigned to
me full time.”

  Trevor stared at him with a mixture of concern and despair.

  Bela laughed. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll not be sending you back to the Line, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s just that a good officer is an asset I badly need. Do you like it here in Newfoundland?”

  Trevor thought a moment. “Yes, I do. But by trade I’m an engineer. Governor. And when my tour of duty is up, I want to go back to the Valley. There’s great work to be done.”

  “There’s great work to be done here, Trevor.”

  “I’m not a fighting soldier, sir. My assignments here have been out of my line. If you need an engineer for Newfoundland duty, then I’m your man. But if you need a troubleshooter, I’m afraid not.”

  Bela sighed. “I’m sorry to hear that. I have another assignment for Elias. One that means a mission of no small importance to the Empire. I was hoping that I could interest you in being a part of it.”

  Trevor smiled. “I have six months of Newfoundland duty left, Governor. During that time I will be at your command.”

  The governor waved his hand imperiously. “This is something that could take a year. Maybe two. It would be a full-time commitment. But I assure you it would be something you’re interested in.”

  “Right now all I want is to take my leave in Rhonnda. I have a week coming to me, you know.”

  “Rhonnda?” Bela broke into a wide grin. “Are you seeing a Rhonnda girl?”

  “A Valley girl, my lord,” he replied with an unmistakable gleam in his eye. “I met her last year in the Haven. Seems she’s coming to Rhonnda any time now, and I want to see her if I can.”

  Before Bela could ask anything further the doors opened wide again, and the burly frame of Elias stepped inside. The mariner swung off his jacket and nodded stiffly. “I’m late, I know,” he apologized. “Couldn’t be helped. There’s a lot of work to be done on the Brora. Right now she’s at the Dockside yard, and I had to leave instructions with the carpenters.”

  “Please, Captain,” said Bela, standing up, “no apologies. Just take a seat, if you will. I have something to discuss with you.”

  Elias glanced at Trevor, then slumped down at the far side of the divan.

  “Shall I leave?” asked Trevor, ready to get up.

  “No, stay,” said the governor, gesturing. “I’d like you to hear this, too. Actually, it concerns what I was beginning to tell you.” He leaned back, folded his hands behind his head, and smiled mysteriously.

  “What’s this all about?” asked Elias.

  Bela fumbled among the papers on his desk. “At the same time I received word of the Fiana pirates, I also received an urgent letter from the Council. From Lord Nigel.” He paused, measuring his words. “The Council has instructed me to fit a rivership for, er, shall we say, sea duty.”

  Elias grinned. “What is it the Council wants?”

  “A voyage on the open sea,” replied Bela.

  The mariner’s eyes brightened. “You want us to chart the Newfoundland coast? It’s about time!”

  Bela shook his head forcefully. “We want you to head for the open sea. The ocean.”

  “To do what?”

  “To cross it.”

  Elias half-stood, features frozen in disbelief.

  “Sit down, Captain,” said Bela. “Let me ask you a few questions before you ask any of your own. Is the Brora, or any rivership for that matter, capable of making a voyage that could mean hundreds of leagues across open sea?”

  “Capable, yes,” replied the mariner. “But there are a lot of qualifications to that yes. Mainly the weather. If a ship were hit by a violent gale, we’d have no way of guaranteeing its safety. The sea is too unpredictable.”

  Bela pressed the point. “But is your ship sound enough to make it from one shore to the other?”

  Elias shrugged. “Certainly. But what shore? Just where are we supposed to be going?”

  The governor sighed and cast his eyes down at the Council letter. “Perhaps I should read this to you,” he muttered.

  “Not necessary, Governor. I know Lord Nigel. Just tell me what his scheme is this time.”

  “Not his scheme, Captain. This letter bears the official Council seal. It seems the Empire has committed itself to crossing the sea. A representative to accompany you on the voyage has already been here to see me and is now in Rhonnda making, er, other preparations.”

  Elias whistled. “Your first question was easy,” he said. “You asked can a rivership cross the sea. Yes, I think we can. And I’m confident the Brora can. But what you haven’t told me is why. Where would we go, and for what purpose?”

  “As for where,” said Bela, “I hardly understand all this myself. The only thing I can repeat is what Lord Nigel’s representative told me. If you sail a north-westerly course from Rhonnda, you’ll eventually reach a broad land of snow-capped peaks. The Council has reason to believe that another civilization will be found there.”

  Astonished, Trevor asked, “Is it possible?”

  Again Bela shrugged. “How do I know? But the Council — and Nigel — believes it to be true. Nigel’s letter takes great pains to assure me that their confidence is well founded. It’s their hope we can find this land, explore it for minerals and seek out this civilization.”

  Elias smirked. “And how will anyone do that? It could take a lifetime to explore such an uncharted land.”

  “I know,” sighed Bela. “That’s where the wolves come in.”

  “Wolves?”

  “It seems that wolves also dwell on this land — white wolves. And through them, we hope to reach the city we’re seeking.”

  “I don’t know,” said Elias, shaking his head slowly.

  “This time I think the Council is asking too much. Even if all this were true, the dangers of the voyage still would make me reluctant.”

  “We’d make it worth your while,” reminded Bela. “The Council is prepared to fund the expedition entirely. They’ll refit your ship from stem to stern, pay you a year’s wages in advance and be willing to work out a contract by which you’d receive a percentage of any mineral or other wealth that might be discovered. In short, you could come home a very wealthy man. And so would any of your sailors who were brave enough to risk their lives by going along.”

  “Have you spoken to any other rivermen yet?” asked an astounded but perplexed Elias.

  “I have.”

  “And what did they say?”

  “One refused completely. Another may accept.”

  Elias’s brows rose. “Who?”

  “The captain of the Moontide.”

  “Pallant?” cried Elias. “Why he’d never make it! The Moontide’s one of the oldest ships on the river.”

  “Ah, perhaps. But we’re going to refit her, remember? By summer we’ll have her as fit as any new boat out of the Rhonnda shipyard.” Bela smiled at the captain. “But I promised Pallant nothing. I wanted to speak to you first. Give you first crack at turning me down.”

  Elias leaned back on the divan and rubbed the edges of his mouth with his fingers. Right now he was of two minds. The voyage would be more dangerous than anything he had ever done before. Yet if he were to refuse, and the journey of the Moontide proved successful, he would have lost the biggest opportunity for adventure and wealth in his life. The offer of a percentage of what they might find loomed before his eyes like an elusive bauble.

  “May I ask something?” said Trevor. “You said before that this mission would involve me if I were willing. Why? What part would I be asked to play?”

  “An important part, Commander,” Governor Bela said. “Because the risks of this venture are so great, we’re going to send along a contingent of Valley troops. We have no way of knowing what we may be facing, what dark shadows may loom beneath those snow-capped peaks. With luck we’ll find the expedition to be both successful and prosperous.”

  “And you’re asking me to take command of this contingent?”

  Bela nodded. “Think o
f it this way: You’ll face perils no man of our Empire has ever faced before — but look at the rewards. We have the chance to come face to face with a foreign culture. Men who have never heard of our Empire. It’s the Council’s hope that a meeting between our cultures could prove to be to our common advantage. Think of it, Trevor! Trading across the sea! What lad hasn’t dreamed of it? The Council believes this land to be rich — rich in minerals and raw materials, the very things we so desperately need. Why, a successful expedition could advance our Empire a hundred years. But the choice is yours, Commander. You can be a part of it, if you want.”

  “Why me? I’d have thought that the man for this kind of job would be one of your more experienced commanders. A man with a proven record of fighting ability should it come to that.”

  Bela nodded. “A hardened soldier would prove a better commander in a combat situation,” he said, “but such a man would be too rigid. We need someone who’d be prepared to take risks, bold chances. A gambler. You always speak about building things, Trevor. Here’s your chance, don’t you see? Build a bridge between cultures, man! As ranking officer you’ll be in authority when you reach the lost city. Think of yourself not as a soldier but as an ambassador. An ambassador of peace come to represent our Empire. But it’s not a command,” Bela said. “Just say the word and I’ll throw the matter back into Lord Nigel’s lap and let the Council pick one of their own. What about it, gentlemen?”

  Elias rubbed his hands together. There was a tinge of excitement in his voice. “We’d need at least a three month supply of food. And we’d have to clear out my entire hold, but we might be able to fit fifty or sixty passengers below. It’d be hot as a helhole, but we could do it.”

  Bela grinned broadly. He knew his catch well enough to recognize when it had taken the bait. “What sort of specialists would you require?”

  “A few men with good navigational knowledge for a start. Then I’d need some capable craftsmen. Carpenters and the like, in case of the need for emergency repair. Perhaps a physician? Definitely an astronomer.”

  “Done,” said Bela dryly. “Whatever you need, we’ll get it for you. Present a list to the quartermaster at Dockside. What we can’t do for you here will be done at Rhonnda.”