Lady of the Haven (Empire Princess Book 1)

by Graham Diamond

  “You mentioned that Lord Nigel had sent a personal representative here,” said Elias. “Where does that fit in?”

  “To lead our wolves, Captain. In order to find the white wolves we’ll need some tough ones of our own. Nigel’s representative came with a forest wolf called Casca. Together they’re going to look in the Free Lands. We want the fiercest hunters we can find.”

  Elias looked at him skeptically. “I don’t know that you’ll find any, Governor. Wolves don’t take to water much.”

  “We’ll find our wolves, Captain,” promised Bela, showing a hint of annoyance. “The representative that Lord Nigel sent knows wolves as well as any in the Empire. Maybe better. And when the crossing is made, she’ll know how to find the white wolves, too.”

  Both Trevor and Elias stared. “She?” gasped the riverman, wincing at the thought of a woman on board.

  Trevor blurted, “Stacy! It must be Stacy!”

  The governor grinned. “Yes, that’s right. She’s quite a young woman, I understand.”

  Trevor laughed merrily, his eyes dancing. “That she is, Governor. You may not believe this, but she’s the girl I told you I was going to Rhonnda to see.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  In Newfoundland they say that spring in Rhonnda is like nowhere else in the world. Sunlight bathes the landscape like sweet honey, reaching into the deepest canyons of the Fiana Mountains. And the land comes alive. Wild horses and caribou come down in herds from their nooks hidden high in the bluffs of the Free Lands. Elk and moose appear, to graze and play along the sloping hills beside the maze of fjords and lakes. And the world sparkles with color. White lilies splash across the horizon, and delicate violets blossom at every turn in the shady woodlands that stretch from Noatak to the banks of Rhonnda Island.

  And the banners fly in Rhonnda. Atop every steeple, at the crown of every spire, at the bridge of every tower, they flutter endlessly in the wind, a maze of maroon and blue that can be seen ten leagues in every direction. And for every Rhonnda color that flies there comes another to answer its call. The brown and green banners of the Empire fly proudly from the old walls of the High Castle and the small distant garrison at the mouth of the sea. The dull gray and silver flags of ships flap from the harbor down along the estuary as far as the eye can see. And from the roofs of town flash the reddish-hued and bright gold of Aberdeen, the ocher flags of Noatak Lake, and the orange-and-black-flecked banners of Deepwater.

  Stacy stood atop the tower in the square and swooned at the breathtaking panorama spread below. From where she stood you could see it all: the hills, the mountains, the ships, the city. It was the best of both worlds, she mused, as her long hair swirled about in the mild breeze. Spring and Rhonnda, too. What more could she ask? Exhilarated and inspired at the same moment, she knew she felt exactly as the poet Bartok must have felt when he put pen to paper. Right now she believed that both spring and Rhonnda belonged to her and to her alone. And wistfully she wished that she would not have to part with either one. But the sealed letter in her hand, brought to her by courier, burned with a life of its own. Hands trembling with excitement, Stacy forced her gaze away from the beauty of the city and peered down at the letter. The message was short, but it meant more to her than anything she could possibly have hoped for. Eyes scanning quickly, she read it once again:

  My dear Stacy,

  Your ship has been secured. Captain Elias of the Brora has agreed to make the first voyage across the Newfoundland sea. The major refitting of his ship has already been completed here at Deepwater. She sails for Rhonnda today for the final work to be completed and should arrive about the same time you receive this letter.

  Thirty Valley soldiers are being immediately dispatched to accompany you as we discussed. Commander Trevor, of the First Valley Regiment, O.C. Noatak Valley, will take command of the expeditionary forces. I understand that the two of you are already acquainted.

  I trust that Casca has been successful in securing the mountain wolves required and your own work in Rhonnda will be done by the time Elias’s ship is set to sail.

  If there is anything else I can do for you or for the voyage, please send a dispatch immediately.

  May the Fates bless you on your voyage,

  BELA

  Governor, Newfoundland

  For over an hour now Stacy had stood at the tower intently staring out at the river and the dizzying array of ships. But nowhere in sight, at least so far, could she see the gold sail and emblazoned flying hawk of the Brora. Could the ship have been delayed? she wondered. This was a matter of no small concern. Except for the ship, everything else was just about ready. During the past week she had left Rhonnda for the Free Land Mountains to join Casca. And they had been luckier than she had dared hope. More than a dozen hunters had expressed a willingness — in fact, an eagerness — to leave their dens and join the voyage. And Cicero, barely back himself from the Fiana Badlands, a glint of adventure in his cunning eyes, had accepted the task of leading them. Fierce and savage, wild as the Free Lands themselves, these were wolves that Stacy knew she could count on.

  Edgy and tense, she paced back and forth along the tower. The afternoon sun was beginning to dip; long shadows from the minarets and spires danced across the water. Another boat was slowly making its way around the bend where the great river turned. Stacy held her breath as she gazed at the sail. The black hawk with silver talons became clear. Her heart pounded. She stood on her toes and clapped her hands excitedly, almost causing Governor Bela’s letter to drift down to the busy street below. It was the Brora! Home to Rhonnda at last.

  Running from the tower, she bounded down the narrow, winding stone steps and made her way along the broad avenue that led to the docks.

  The Brora, lamps blazing from her bow like hazy fires, cut her way through the narrowing channel and crept closer to her empty berth. Stacy could hear the faint cries of commands barked along the length and breadth of the ship. It was “Hard to port, Mr. Ashcroft!” and “Steady on the rudder, Mr. Boniface!” She paused to catch her breath in the dimly lit doorway of an old warehouse. Along the dock she could see a handful of tunic-clad workmen begin securing the ropes that had come flinging from the ship. Sailors ran to and fro, tugging at the black iron anchor. A figure stood silhouetted on the prow, hands clasped firmly behind his back, keenly watching. It reminded her of Sykes and the way he had acted on her own journey from Deepwater. But this man stood much taller. His stance was aloof, though, as if he did not have to keep the same careful eye over his crew as the Lady of Newfoundland’s captain did. Stacy drew a deep breath. It was Elias. She could not make out his face, or even a hint of his eyes. But it was Elias!

  She inched her way forward along the wharf, as the Brora’s sailors began to debark. One, a young fellow with a drooping mustache, halted her at the gangplank.

  “My name is Ashcroft, my lady. May I be of help?”

  “Perhaps you can, Mr. Ashcroft. I’m waiting for Captain Elias.”

  Ashcroft, smiling and bowing politely, said: “This way, my lady. Hold the ropes as you climb these steps. By the way, who shall I tell the captain is here to see him?”

  “Oh,” she replied, pushing a lock of hair away from her eyes, “Just tell him that Stacy’s here.”

  Ashcroft’s face seemed to droop; his lips sputtered. “Stacy? The Stacy? I mean, Lady Anastasia? The girl with the wolves?”

  Stacy threw back her head and laughed, her eyes flashing and sparkling. “The same.” Before the stunned Ashcroft could say anything more, a head popped out of the doorway to the leeward hatch. “Who’s up there?”

  “Just me, Captain.”

  “Look here, Ashcroft,” the voice said sternly, “you know the rules about bringing women on board. Next time have her meet you on land. Is that understood?”

  Ashcroft gulped. “Yes, sir! But Captain, this, er, lady, is here to see you. I was only bringing her to your”

  The overman squinted his eyes and stared at the shapely silhouett
e standing easily at young Ashcroft’s side.

  “It’s Stacy,” said Stacy.

  Elias beamed and slid open the companionway door. He straightened his shoulders, self-consciously pushed a shock of dark hair away from his forehead and strode across the deck to the ladder. “That will be all, Mr. Ashcroft. Enjoy your leave. Wonderful to see you again, my lady,” he said in a low tone, eyes gazing into hers. “I’m glad you came. We’ll probably have quite a number of matters to discuss. Arrangements and assigning quarters, and the like.”

  Stacy nodded eagerly.

  Elias gestured sweepingly with his hand and pointed to the small bridge on the forecastle. “It’s a warm night, my lady. And the quarters below are stuffy and dank. Shall we talk under the stars for a while?”

  The girl nodded and followed in his shadow as Elias turned and walked to the front of the ship. The stars were bright as jewels, and the moon, a curved crescent low in the sky, glowed as the famed lights of Rhonnda flickered in the distance. The view of the town from the harbor was almost as magnificent as that from the highest spire, mused Stacy, glancing at the silhouetted city, hardly aware of the gently swaying ship beneath her feet. The lights of Rhonnda. She turned her eyes toward Elias. The riverman was leaning with his back against the bulwark, fingers gripping at the rails.

  “I can understand why Rhonnda’s so loved by Newlanders,” she said. “It’s dazzling. I almost have the feeling that I’m in a dream, seeing a city of gods.”

  Elias smiled knowingly. “Rhonnda will one day be the Empire’s monument, my lady. Our gift to whatever kind of world our children inherit.”

  Stacy nodded. She glanced again at the towers and sighed. “I feel so small beside all of this,” she confided.

  Elias laughed. “You’re not the first to feel that way. Rhonnda, this whole land, in fact, does that to people. It’s the mountains, it’s the river, it’s the hint of the sea beyond the channel. The very crossroad of the world. From here we want to reach out and touch it all.”

  “Perhaps we will,” replied the girl, dark eyes narrowing. “Perhaps we both will.”

  Within a fleeting second, Elias felt his heart race and his mind yearn with desire. Who was this girl with the charms and powers to try and alter the course of the Empire? There was something about her that entranced him, something he could not fully explain. Her proud stance, her easy shifting and grace, those enchanting eyes.

  “I heard about the trouble in Fiana,” said Stacy, frowning, “and about the hanging. It must have been terrible.”

  “I hope to never go through anything like that again, my lady. It was a nasty business. But I suppose someone had to do it, and the governor asked me. But why speak of such things? We have a saying here in Rhonnda: ‘Bury the past before it buries you.’ So why not put this sort of talk out of our minds and speak of better things to come?”

  “All right, Captain.” Her eyes brightened, and she threw back her head. “Shall we talk business?”

  Elias laughed heartily. “Why not?”

  “Governor Bela wrote that you’d be completing your fitting work here at Rhonnda. How long will it take?”

  “The heavy work, for the most part, is already done. But we’ll need a new mast, one sturdy enough for open sea winds, as well as new fittings below for our passengers. But the best craftsmen in the Empire are here, so it shouldn’t take long for things to be put in order.”

  “We’ll be ready to leave by the first days of summer?”

  “Of course, my lady. We have to. This journey could take weeks, months even. We have no way of knowing. And by midsummer the sea gales begin. We have to try to avoid them if at all possible.”

  “That makes sense,” agreed the girl. “With luck maybe we’ll have a pleasant voyage.”

  “If not pleasant, at least endurable,” said Elias with a grin. “You know, when the governor first proposed this to me, I was quite skeptical. But while at Deepwater I began to see just how monumental this journey could be.”

  Stacy rested with her back against the bulwark. “What made you decide to come? I was really quite afraid that no ship would dare the risks.”

  Elias smiled. “I’ll confide in you, my lady. There’s not a mariner in all the Empire who’s not dreamed of crossing the sea. But there’re precious few who’d actually try it. I suppose I want to be the one who does.”

  Stacy looked at him thoughtfully. “Why?”

  Again the riverman laughed. “Why?” he repeated as he shrugged. “Why not? Like other mortal men, I want to make my mark upon the world. I want my name to be remembered. ‘Elias — the first captain to cross the sea.’ Look at the mountains, Stacy. They’re immortal. And look at Rhonnda. She’ll be immortal, too. But even a lowly sailor hungers for a piece of that immortality. And this voyage will give me mine.”

  Stacy listened with surprise. Speaking in a soft voice, she said, “I think I misjudged you, Captain. I thought you only cared for the riches.”

  The riverman stared out at the calm waters and the small waves as they beat against the shadowed quay. “Five years ago, my lady, you’d have been right. But not now, not any longer. You can say I’m doing this for glory, or even adventure, but it’s more than that. I’m doing it because it needs to be done. And if we should fail, I hope and pray that others will take our place and succeed.”

  Stacy’s mood turned mellow as she listened to the faraway sounds from the river. An occasional shout from some harried sailor aboard some dark ship, a muffled laugh from a drunken laborer among the shadows of the warehouses. The deep voice of Elias finally broke the quiet.

  “But what about you, my lady? My reasons for going are rather simple. Yours aren’t. What makes a young woman give up a life of ease and comfort to risk her life on the sea?”

  For a long while Stacy did not reply. At last she turned, her eyes downcast. “Maybe I’m like you,” she whispered.

  Elias looked at her curiously. “How do you mean?”

  “Why did you leave the Valley and come here?” she asked him forthright and interested.

  “I guess I saw myself as something of an outcast, my lady,” he sighed. “The world of the Valley was a world I didn’t belong to. Newfoundland was a place where a man could make a life for himself and be free.”

  Stacy nodded slowly. “I know what you mean. In the Haven I’m looked upon as something of an outcast myself.”

  “My lady? I don’t understand...”

  Stacy waved her hand at the staring riverman. “Hear me out, Elias. Please. You know my father, you know his love for Dwellers. He wanted to pass that on to me. So when I was a very young girl, he brought me to the forest and to the wolves. I was taught by them. Everything there is to know about the forest and its ways. I lived with wolves, learned their culture, their way of life, how to survive as they do. And I grew to love them — so much that for nearly half of every year I’d keep away from our civilization. I speak in the canine tongues like one of their own. I track like a hunter and use my dagger as they use their fangs.”

  “I find that admirable,” said Elias sincerely. “You have the best of both your worlds.”

  Stacy’s eyes flickered. “Do I? Sometimes I feel that people stare at me like I’m a savage. At court the other young women stare as though I’m likely to leap and slit their throats.”

  Elias leaned forward and touched her sleeve lightly. “Stacy, I...I never dreamed. But you’re not the first to befriend wolves. Many have. Why right here — even I...”

  The girl looked away. “I’m a woman, Captain. The daughter of a famous lord. Eyes see me very differently than they do others. And those eyes can be cruel. They taunt, they mock. And they laugh.” Stacy wiped at her eyes and gave him a wan smile. “I’m sorry if I seem bitter, Elias. But at least now you understand why I left the Valley. In Rhonnda my name and title are barely recognized. And no one seems to care, anyway. For the first time in my life I feel as if I’m no different than anybody else. It’s a good feeling, Captain. I do
n’t want to lose it.”

  “You won’t, my lady. Here you can live as free as a mountain laurel. You need never face those cruelties again. But tell me, my lady, what about your part in this expedition? Have you found the wolves we need?”

  Stacy nodded happily. “Cicero and eight of the finest hunters I’ve ever seen. Most of them were more than eager.”

  Elias laughed at the thought of Cicero. He should have known that the wily red wolf would have been among the first to volunteer. “Then things are right on schedule,” he said. “And when our voyage is done, what will you do?”

  “Stay close to Rhonnda,” she replied in a low voice. “I’ve come to think of it as my home already. I met a merchant here, and he spoke of wild mustangs to be caught in the Free Lands. I think I’d like that. I’m quite good with horses, you know.”

  “And, er, what about Trevor?” Elias asked awkwardly. “Where does he fit into your life?”

  Stacy looked up blankly. “I don’t know that he docs. I like him, if that’s what you mean. But I have no commitments.” She smiled. “Right now I’m as free as those mountain laurels you spoke of.”

  Elias felt his heart pound in his throat. Most rivermen vow never to marry, to be wed only to their ships. But now Elias began to wonder. If Stacy were free — and if Trevor had no hold on her...!

  Chapter Fourteen

  As the sky turned to purple and the flaming red sun lowered against a backdrop of azure mountains, the Rhonnda festival began. Under a crescent moon and early evening twinkling stars, the streets and plaza thronged. Acrobats and jugglers danced and performed while crowds oohed and aahed, and the puppeteers dramatically displayed adventures of ages long past.

  All work stopped in Rhonnda during festival. Tinkers and weavers mingled in a friendly way with lords and nobles, sailors greeted and bought rounds of drinks for competitors and shipmates alike. Valley soldiers strolled the streets laughing and winking at shapely Rhonnda girls, who in turn teased and winked back at the shy Valley lads. Rebellion in their playful eyes, they let the Valley lads chase them, and if the poor boy was handsome and charming enough — well, who could say what marriages might come of it?