Cold Iron

by Stina Leicht

  Compelled. Nels doubled over, coughing. White-hot pain blinded him while he attempted to keep from vomiting.

  “What do we do?” Viktor asked.

  Jarvi stared westward, horrified. “Why isn’t the Seventh retreating with the rest?”

  Viktor repeated himself, in shock. “What do we do?”

  Listening to the sounds of the dying, Nels breathed in gulps. At some point, he’d have to stop and tend to his wounds, or he was going to lose too much blood. He couldn’t do it now. The Acrasians would search the woods for survivors soon, and after everything that had just happened, they’d be even less inclined for quarter. How long do we have? Were any of my troops able to get away? Or were they compelled to kill themselves too? Nels swallowed another surge of nausea. “We head north. Follow the mountains until we reach the pass. Then head west to the city of Herraskariano. And we hope the others did as I ordered.”

  Shock flooded Jarvi’s expression. “We can’t leave them, sir! They need us!”

  “The king needs us more,” Nels said, hardly believing his own words. He was proposing to desert in order to save the life of a man he hadn’t spoken to in two years—a man who hated him and thought of him as dead. And he hadn’t just proposed it. He’d planned it. Nels’s side began to ache. The long burning line the ­bayonet had carved into his skin was hot to the touch, and his mouth was dry. He reassured himself he was leaving for the sake of his sister. Wherever she was, she was the one who counted now.

  I’m a fool. It will make no difference. Nothing I do ever will. “We’re all that stands between the Acrasians and Jalokivi now,” he said. “Merta is finished. All we’ll accomplish by staying is joining the dead.” And with that, Nels turned his back on the dying and started the long journey to Herraskariano on foot.

  SUVI

  ONE

  With the foremast jury-rigged, Otter was able to continue on her journey home. Suvi imagined the encounter with Winter Rose over and over in an attempt to think of what she could’ve done better. They’d lost sixteen of the crew as well as their prisoner, the Acrasian captain. Each time Suvi thought of the dead, she repeated to herself one of her mother’s lessons. Perfection lacks opportunity for growth. Learn the value of error, especially the errors of others. Do not equate good luck with virtue, and do not indulge in superiority. Above all, remember that the powerful make only one type of mistake—deadly ones. Be careful and be prepared. She hadn’t been prepared. She’d assumed the rank of Sea Marshal, and she only had the experience of a lieutenant, and a low-ranking lieutenant at that.

  Be careful. She’d try to remember that in the future.

  There’d been no sign of Winter Rose. The past week had been spent dodging Acrasian patrols. Doing so drove them ever northward into more dangerous ice-filled seas. In addition to the ice, fall meant storm season. Waterborne avoided the northern sea in winter and fall unless a Waterweaver was among the ship’s crew. For this reason, Sea Dragon had passed the role of escort to her sister ship, Arabella. That was well enough, but Otter’s jury-rigged foremast wouldn’t weather a severe winter storm.

  So it was that when Suvi heard the call that the Eledorean coast had been spotted, she rushed to the rail with her spyglass and a sense of short-lived relief. The port of Mehrinna nestled between the Selkäranka Mountains and the Greater Sininen River was a beautiful sight, as was the mouth itself of the Greater Sininen River. It would be the last leg of her journey home. The mourning banners fixed to the city walls, on the other hand, were not a welcome sight. Her hopes that Winter Rose’s banners had been a meaningless ploy were dashed. Still, the mourning banners were the least of their problems.

  “Those are an awful lot of ships,” Suvi said, peering through the spyglass.

  Wind blew Jami’s hair into her face, and she looped the loose strands behind one ear with a frown. “Someone is serious about keeping you away from home.”

  “I suppose I can’t blame Uncle or the Acrasians,” Suvi said. “Any idea who the mourning banners are for?” I need to know.

  Jami paused. Her brows pushed together, forming a frustrated line. Her reply came out in hushed fury. “I don’t know.”

  As long as she’d known Jami, Suvi didn’t think she’d ever heard her utter those words. Knowing things that others didn’t was Jami’s entire purpose for being.

  Glaring at the horizon, Jami said, “May I borrow the glass?”

  “Certainly,” Suvi said.

  After several minutes of searching, Jami said, “Oh.”

  “What is it?” Suvi asked.

  At that moment, a lieutenant stepped forward and saluted. “I’ve a message from Captain Marsh of Arabella, sir.”

  Suvi opened the tiny scroll. It read, Sea’s current will be favorable to you. With your weathermaster’s wind, both can see you through. Signal if accept. “Dylan?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “How precise can you be with the wind?” Suvi asked.

  Dylan’s eyes narrowed. “Very. Unfortunately, the more concentrated the force, the more power there is, and the harder it is to control. I can’t promise I won’t damage our sails.”

  “Or the foremast,” Darius muttered.

  “I can’t maintain such focus for long, either. Not alone,” Dylan said. “It’s best if I use my powers to guide weather already present, not force it.”

  Suvi asked, “Can you blow us through that blockade without granting the Acrasians a favorable wind?”

  “It’s possible. But once my influence fades, the winds will do as they will. We’ll be caught in the gale along with everyone else.”

  Turning back to face the Acrasian blockade, Suvi considered the plan. “What if a current were to help you?”

  Dylan turned to face Arabella. “Is that what Marsh offered?”

  Suvi nodded.

  “The surge is sure to damage the docks,” Dylan said.

  “That will only make it harder for the Acrasians to land,” Suvi said.

  “Arabella will have to remain behind,” Darius said. “Alone. Her waterweaver will be used up. The Acrasians will attack the instant it’s obvious they’ve helped. And it will be obvious. There’s no hiding such a thing from any sailor who knows the sea.”

  Dylan said, “They won’t be able to flee until we’re through.”

  Sea Lord Kask has more than earned his water steel. Suvi frowned. “Arabella won’t stand a chance. Not against all those guns. It’s suicide.”

  Indomitable glided defiant in the water, her sails pregnant with the wind. Suvi thought about all the times she’d dreamed of commanding a navy. Never once did she think about what that really meant. Marines were supposed to take care of the more unpleasant aspects. Everyone knew that. Only, everyone was apparently wrong.

  Commodore Björnstjerna. I’m so sorry, Suvi thought. “Arabella won’t be alone.”

  “Do you have an answer, sir?” Lieutenant Noronen asked.

  “I do. But first I need to contact Indomitable. Give me a moment to prepare the message.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Jami said, “Your Grace.”

  “Yes? You have something to say?” Suvi asked.

  “I have bad news,” Jami said.

  “What is it?” Suvi asked.

  “It is regarding the banners on Mehrinna’s walls.” Jami had used formal court speech. Her normally serene countenance was edged with grief.

  Suvi felt as though an icy fist had punched the air out of her lungs. “Father.”

  Jami slowly shook her head.

  “Nels?” Don’t be stupid. He’s a soldier. He wouldn’t merit royal banners. Think. Sudden knowledge hit her like a cannonball. Her knees failed her, and she grabbed the rail for support. “It can’t be. Not Mother.”

  “I’m afraid it is,” Jami said.

  Watching Dylan, it was easy to see he struggled with a need to do the appropriate thing according to Eledorean custom—that is, change the subject—or a need to do something impulsive and Waterborne-ish. “I
’m so sorry for your loss,” he finally said in Eledorean. Reaching out, he supported her with a hand to her elbow. “She lives now and forever with the Mother.”

  With a start, Suvi recognized the formal Eledorean response to grief. Of course, she’d offered the same to friends and acquaintances herself on many occasions. However, it’d never occurred to her that anyone would speak them to her. I’m as bad as everyone else, I suppose. The cold had transformed into numbness. She was already losing patience with the Eledorean custom of not speaking directly of death. The only acknowledgments allowed were ­unspoken—the mourning ribbons and badges. Eledoreans preferred to behave as if they were exempt from dying. The euphemisms were as countless as they were endlessly annoying. She didn’t know how she would stand the next month as everyone pretended as if the queen had taken an extended holiday. The pretense of immortality that Eledoreans in particular seemed enamored of used to disgust her. Now that I know what lies beneath Keeper Mountain, it’s more difficult to dismiss the aversion. Where is Mother now, I wonder? Is she finally with Captain Karpanen? Is she happy, or is she suffering? Will Karpanen finally be at peace? What has happened to her?

  Suvi thought of the creature that had attacked her, and shuddered.

  The restless dead walk with the Old Ones.

  Jami spoke to Darius. “Send for Piritta. Now. Her Grace needs to get below.”

  There are more important things going on. The thought was cold, abrupt, and almost foreign, but Suvi knew it for her own and was horrified. What’s more important than your mother? Typically, Eledorean women went into grieving and weren’t seen for three days and three nights. Then they would reemerge wearing bright colors with smiles pinned on their faces. It was supposed to represent rebirth. It was supposed to be defiance against the long darkness. It was supposed to deny—

  If you break now, if you react like a typical woman, no ship’s crew will ever follow you again—nor will the kingdom. Suvi blinked. To follow tradition is to leave the kingdom to Uncle Sakari. Would Mother want that?

  You are a princess. Know when to follow Eledorean tradition and when to break with it. Her mother’s words, repeated so often, surfaced in the numbness. I did not raise you to be a simpering child. You’re far too intelligent for that. You must think for yourself—find your own way—if you’re to be an example. If you do not, nothing will ever change in Eledore.

  She bit down on grief and panic. “Stop.”

  Darius turned.

  I’m not allowed my grief. Not now. Suvi swallowed her tears. They tasted of salt and bitterness. I must do what I must. Lives depend upon it. She breathed in through clenched teeth. “Let Piritta grieve for me. I will remain here.”

  “What?” Jami asked. The shock on the assassin’s face was almost comical.

  “Bring me paper, pen, and ink,” Suvi said. “I need to compose that message to Indomitable.”

  The others hesitated.

  Lieutenant Noronen said, “You can’t possibly mean to—”

  “Do as I say,” Suvi said. “At once.”

  Jami whispered, “Think of what the people will say.”

  “That isn’t what matters most right now,” Suvi said. “What would you do if tradition dictated one thing and duty demanded another?” She lowered her voice. “You’re a korva. My korva.”

  Jami looked away. “I’d do my job.”

  “I must learn when to follow tradition and when to break with it. All Eledorean women do in one way or another. This is what I have to do. I promise you, I love my mother. I intend her no disrespect. But she was Ytlainen, and she would expect this of me. Please. I need your support. It will be too difficult without it.”

  Jami blinked and then nodded.

  Suvi snatched the paper from Noronen and scribbled out the message to Björnstjerna on the railing. She handed it to Noronen. “Send this. Now.”

  Lieutenant Noronen spun on his heel and left. Shortly, a striped pennant flag was raised off the aft signal lines. A quarter of an hour passed before Indomitable and Arabella both indicated acknowledgment.

  “Are we ready?” Suvi asked Captain Hansen.

  “Yes, sir,” Captain Hansen said. “Everything that can be anchored has been. Storm lines are in place.”

  “Then raise the signal to Arabella. Tell her we’re ready,” Suvi said.

  “Yes, sir,” Hansen said. “Lieutenant, you heard the Sea Marshal. Get to it. She also ordered the signalmen to prepare to flag the lock. We don’t want to go to all the trouble of breaking through the Acrasians’ blockade only to wash up against a closed river lock, do we?”

  “Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir!”

  I’d forgotten about that, Suvi thought. It would’ve been a terrible mistake. She waited until Lieutenant Noronen was gone. “Thank you.”

  Hansen raised an eyebrow. “I only repeated your orders.” She turned to Dylan. “May the gods grant you fortunate winds, weather­master.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Dylan sat down on the deck next to the aft mast. “So, we’re leaving Indomitable behind?”

  Darius lashed Dylan to the mast and then settled next to his partner.

  “Arabella can’t stand alone against the Acrasians. You said so yourself,” Suvi said. “Even if she could, I couldn’t allow it. Eledore is at war with the Acrasians, not the Waterborne.”

  “You should probably find a more secure place to be,” Dylan said.

  Like below. Mother is dead, after all, Suvi thought, blushing. She knew it wasn’t what Dylan meant, but it didn’t stop the shame. “Speaking of, I’ve a question. If you don’t mind.”

  Shrugging, Dylan said, “Shoot.”

  “Why would Arabella choose to sacrifice herself for us?” Suvi asked.

  Dylan closed his eyes. “Who is to say it’s a sacrifice? Perhaps it is they who should worry.”

  “The entire Acrasian navy is out there,” Suvi said. “The Water­borne are powerful, but you’re not that powerful.”

  Darius asked, “You’ve never seen an entire Waterborne crew at work, have you?”

  “This isn’t about Eledore for Marsh. The Acrasians made a mistake. They fired on Arabella,” Dylan said. “Marsh isn’t declaring war. He can’t—not for all of the Waterborne Nations. But as a captain of Clan Kask, he is allowed a certain amount of discretion. And Clan Kask officially ceased all business relations with Acrasia weeks ago.”

  Suvi blinked. How does he know? Then it occurred to her that even if Eledorean messages couldn’t reach across the sea, the Water­borne had their own methods. “The Acrasians won’t acknowledge the distinction.”

  Dylan said, “I suspect it won’t matter. Not today.”

  “Are you ready?” Darius asked.

  Dylan took a deep breath and said, “I am.”

  Darius took Dylan’s hand. “Try not to sink us.”

  “Try not to drown,” Dylan said back.

  Suvi lashed herself to the storm line on the poop deck with the other officers. The change in air pressure was abrupt enough to cause her ears to pop. The air smelled as it did just before a heavy storm. The wind slowly increased, and formerly serene clouds bunched and darkened into angry clumps. Someone shouted. Several crew members pointed aft. A great, misshapen wave swelled behind Otter. Its narrow crest grew tall, and then the unnatural formation pressed against the ship’s stern. The deck tilted under Suvi’s feet, and Otter gathered speed as wave and wind competed to shove Otter at the Acrasians. Faster and faster, the ship sped through the water until the vessel’s timbers creaked in protest. Suvi prayed the foremast would hold. The wind howled. Otter’s sails were strained to the maximum. Someone screamed. One of the aft yards snapped with a loud crack. It plunged into the shrouds. A sailor dropped into the sea. The remaining crew aloft fought sails and rigging to prevent further fouling. Otter relentlessly continued her journey toward the intimidating line of Acrasian ships.

  Cannon shattered the air, but as Suvi watched, each shot seemed to meet the fierce wind and slow, dropping useles
s into the water. She looked to Dylan. His eyes were closed and his face was a mask of concentration. At his side, Darius laughed. Suvi couldn’t decide if it was out of panic or the thrill of danger. Then all at once, the deck tilted fore at such an extreme angle that Suvi had trouble remaining on her feet. She began to wonder if Marsh’s wave would accidentally flip Otter end over end.

  Otter sprinted through her enemies. Two Acrasian ships were blown far to port and then starboard. Sails ripped to pieces and masts splintered. She could hear the Acrasian sailors’ cries. Still Otter was propelled forward until Suvi was sure they’d crash into the Acrasians and finally Mehrinna’s docks. Then just as suddenly as it’d appeared, the water’s force dropped away. It spread outward, and the enemy ships were sent spinning like toys. Some slammed into the docks as the water hit land.

  Dylan slumped, and the terrifying wind was free. The Acrasian line was dashed into chaos.

  The river lock loomed ahead as the gates slowly opened. Suvi could hardly believe her eyes. She held her breath until the gate closed and the lock chamber began to fill with water. The jury-rigged foremast choose that moment to disintegrate with a huge crash. The crew rushed to prevent further damage. Around them, the storm continued to rage. Protected by the lock’s walls, she could only imagine the destruction. She said a quick prayer for Indomitable and Arabella before fleeing below to mourn for her mother.

  NELS

  ONE

  “How many of them are down there? Seventy-five? A hundred?” Gingerly propping himself up on his elbows, Nels gazed at the Acrasian encampment and tried not to show despair.

  So far, they’d made fair progress on their journey north, but Westola was struggling to keep the wounded patched together as it was, without encountering rough terrain on top of it. To ease the toll on the troops, Nels had decided to cut back to the road. Walking was less demanding than climbing. He’d told Viktor that they were sure to be ahead of the Acrasian vanguard by now. Viktor had suggested scouting the road first, which had then led to Nels shivering on top of a grassy hill. Once again, Nels wished anyone else were in charge. The troops deserved better.