“And you, Saija?” Brennus hollered to the sniper in the crow’s nest. “What say you?”
She thought of Daemyn. She thought of being in his arms and the future that he would have promised for Thalassa had peace remained in the realm. That had been before everything though… before he had been murdered. “I say they all die,” she declared and with that she put the vomiting archer out of his misery. The proceeding gunfire was like thunder in midday, the smoke drifting up to the crow’s nest where Saija held her breath and shut the sting from her eyes. When it cleared there was not a single soul alive in the Gaian line. They all lay in contorted manners aboard the ship, and before long the Thalassan troops were moving forward to loot armor, weapons, and purses from the dead. Brennus ordered all the naked corpses to be dumped into the water, food for the fish as it were, and there were already sailors working on tethering ropes about the two vessel’s masts to tow in the grandest prize of the day.
As Saija watched the crewmen busily working in the aftermath of the battle, she was relieved that it was over but adrenaline was still pumping through her veins. Instead of climbing down from the crow’s nest where she was still perched she slumped down along the side to steady her breathing. She tilted her head back against the short oaken walls and closed her eyes. Moments later she heard someone heaving themselves into the crow’s nest and opened her eyes with a start.
“That was quite a surprise, sailor,” Caedmon said as he plopped down beside Saija.
She stared at him, not quite understanding. “Yes, you were quite sure we were going to have another dull excursion…”
Caedmon chuckled. “I was referring to your declaration. I was surprised that you would advocate for the death of those Gaians. Your good friend is a Gaian, yes? Not to mention my good friend’s lover.”
“Aye,” Saija began slowly, finding it very interesting that she had stunned the guardsman. “Ana is Gaian, however Ana is not a part of this war. Those Gaians would not have shown us any mercy if the situation was reversed… and killing our future king was an act of war, so I merely played out what they had started months ago.”
“You speak the truth… I just hadn’t thought you to be so ruthless. I like it.” Caedmon bumped her shoulder with his and the sense of camaraderie between them was a pleasant change from being two people that happened to work on the same vessel. They turned to stare out at the water and Caedmon reached into a satchel at his side and pulled out a clay flagon of wine.
Saija stared at it. “I saw you throw that out to sea before the battle!”
Caedmon shrugged and handed it to her. “I brought two.”
Xander
Winter was in its very heart and the sun ceased to linger in the sky. Xander sighed relief for the island warmth. The lukewarm chilliness of Thalassa never brought about the bitter cold that Gaians experienced. He breathed in the fresh air tasting of salt and vapor, hugged his cloak a little closer to his shoulders, and walked into his home to gather his belongings.
The watchman threw two pairs of pants and two tunics into his leather traveling bag. He added a bit of tack for the trip as well. The armor and cloak on his back he would wear for the journey. Actually, Xander paused in thought and remembered what had happened to Stefan’s guards when they wore armor on a boat. He took off the iron habergeon and slid that into the pack as well. Stretching was strange, as it always seemed to be for a while after disarming, for Xander was ever accustomed to wearing the twenty pounds of iron and leather close to ten hours every day.
The sun hung low in the east but was rising almost visibly. Xander hailed Sophia as she watered a patch of soil that would eventually be home to springtime flowers. He suspected those would be waiting for an eternity, but the woman had an air of contentment as she went about gardening. She waved back with a slight apprehension in the movement but the young man never noticed. He continued on to the training yard where the blue cloaks under Sir Aldous were standing idle. Sir Arkouda’s brown cloaked warriors were deep into swordplay, and Xander cursed at the comparison.
“What is this?” Xander demanded as he strode towards his men. “I’m not even on the boat yet and you’re all clucking about like a bunch of hens.”
They straightened at the sight of their officer. “Apologies, Xander,” nearly ten of them said simultaneously.
Aidan moved forward from the group. “These young ones hardly have any respect for their training… or at least when I’m in command.”
“Whip them into shape,” Xander suggested.
“I’m coming to loathe these trips of yours,” Aidan announced with a grimace at his admittance to Xander’s ease of the commanding position. He had proved valuable as a soldier in that first skirmish with the Gaians, but Aidan was well aware of how awkward it was for him to be in a position of leadership beyond merely watchman status.
Xander nodded and smiled at the man but on the inside he was bursting. He loved the trips to Pontos because they gave him an opportunity to stretch his legs away from little Triton. Triton was the same thing, day in and day out. Only recently had its growth become something amazing to watch. Regardless, Xander liked his report trips to Pontos best, even the times when he had not had time to visit Caedmon, because Pontos was not a simple town but a city.
“Victor,” Xander beckoned to his young guardsman amongst the others. He had just finished a joke that left his peers in a guffaw. He reluctantly made his way to the officer.
“Yes?” Victor said brusquely.
“First of all, take that tone out of your voice,” Xander snarled. Victor straightened and put his arms to his sides, straight as an arrow. “I need you to ensure that these young kids aren’t worthless in this troop. There’s more than twenty of us under twenty-five so I want you in good shape. That means weapons training, one hour every day, and sprints every morning.”
“Sprints?” Victor asked. His shoulders slacked.
“Aye, sprints,” Xander replied. There was no better way to put on leg muscle. Long runs would tone those muscles, but sprints built them out thicker and stronger. The daily rounds each soldier was supposed to do anyway would add whatever tone they needed. “And keep your armor on all day, every day.”
“All day, Xander? By the gods what have I done?” Victor was exasperated.
“Yes, all day,” Xander barked. Aidan grinned beside him and Victor’s slackened stance became erect once more. “The whole lot of you has either too much in the midsection or you look like beanpoles.” He turned to address the troop of embarrassed soldiers. “And if I find out a single one of you isn’t obeying Aidan as you would me, then you’ll all be doing sprints in the armor.”
“Aye, sir!” came the chorus and Xander winked at Aidan, clapped Victor on the back, and marched to the dock.
As he stepped on the Victory the fresh smell of the sea hit him even harder. He never got sick like some did on the ocean, so the smell was a scent that almost always prefaced adventure. Even when it was just a simple journey, the rocking of the waves, sails being unfurled and furled again, oars biting into the blue waters; all fascinated the land-dwelling soldier.
Hands suddenly snatched his eyes shut and Xander nearly threw his captor to the deck when the scent of sweet lemons pierced the ocean spray. A smile crept from his heart to his mouth and he turned about as Ana released her hands from his sight. She smiled back and they kissed deep. Even the waves have no power like this, Xander thought as the young woman sighed deeply in the embrace.
*
“So I’m parrying this bastard’s blows with one hand right,” Caedmon explained. He was standing and acting as though Brennus’ deck was lined with Gaian soldiers. “Then when he least expected it I un-holstered my pistol and blasted him in the face.”
Ana cringed at the violence but Saija just shook her head and laughed. Xander practically had his ears piqued to his friend’s story, however, and Caedmon continued with a grin. “The shield walls clashed, and time and again Gaian after Gaian fell to our blades
. I must’ve killed about five of six of the bastards that day.”
“Hah!” Saija exclaimed. She leapt off the barrel of ale she had been using as a chair. “Five or six? You killed two, maybe three.”
“How would you know?” Caedmon said defensively.
“I know,” Saija replied with a confident grin. She leaned against the railing.
“Maybe because you pay attention to little else but me, even in battle,” Caedmon suggested with a devilish smile. “It’s understandable, Saija, don’t be embarrassed.”
The woman only rolled her eyes and looked at Xander. “Your friend is an ass.”
“A good soldier, nonetheless,” Murchadh’s gruff voice replied. “Good enough not to get killed at least.”
Xander stared at his former guardsman. “Well I would hope that you would place the welfare of your men before any bloodlust… especially in your newfound position.”
Murchadh’s bright brown eyes widened when he smirked. “Just because we have different views does not mean we aren’t fighting the same war here, Xander. You do your job and I do mine. I’ve heard it said we’re both more than proficient.”
“We differ in a pretty big way.”
“Perhaps if you weren’t bedding that Gaian you would share my distaste,” Murchadh said.
“Perhaps you should shut your mouth?” Xander suggested. He took a step forward and stared heatedly into Murchadh’s gaze.
“Both of you shut your mouths,” Brennus thundered. “Save that kind of shit for a tavern where it belongs. I’ll not have this nonsense on my ship.”
“Aye, Captain,” Murchadh said nonchalantly and stalked to the stern.
Xander took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He glanced to the helm where a crewman he barely recognized held firm to the ship’s wheel. He looked back to Brennus. “A fair trip for us this time, eh?”
Brennus looked aft and forward and drew a deep breath of satisfaction. “The gods are kind to us today. The winds are keeping us at a steady pace and my crew even has time to embellish the tale of the sole fight they’ve ever been in.”
Both Saija and Caedmon looked bitter at that comment but only briefly before laughter took over. Brennus grinned and walked back to the helm with an air of boredom. Ana leaned against Xander and rested her head upon his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head almost instinctually.
In many ways things with Ana came naturally just as simple reactions to his feelings, but there were times when he was alone that Xander would ponder how different it was compared to Roselyn and his relationship. First of all, Ana and Xander were usually in public and though they refrained from anything that would further Thomas’ suspicions, the pair often left their sentiments plain on their faces. With Roselyn it had all been so secretive. She had even preferred him not attend on her as other guards often did because she felt it might arouse suspicion. She had never met his eyes in the dining room and only gave cursory greeting when they passed in the hallway by chance.
“How did you get away from your parents?” Xander asked Ana suddenly.
She blushed. “I told them I was sick of being cooped up on Triton and needed a couple days away… and that I had never seen Pontos. They pretty much had to acquiesce.”
“Oh,” Xander exclaimed with feigned surprise. “Making demands, are we?”
Ana laughed and nudged his shoulder. Xander smiled and sipped on his ale.
“That’ll never work with Xander,” Caedmon announced. “He can’t deal with those princess-type wenches.”
Xander choked on the drink.
“I think it’s really none of your business, Caedmon,” Saija said.
He smirked. “I was only half-serious.”
The evening moved quickly enough but with the night came a slackening of wind. The rested oarsmen grumbled as they filed along the benches and took up their seats. Ana tried a hand at the work but quickly gave up that whim. Saija chuckled and filled the slot. Xander was impressed by how long Caedmon outlasted him at the oar as well, but when the moon hung at zenith all the oars were shipped anyway. The anchor was dropped and the sailors made their beds amongst the benches and whatever space could be had.
Xander followed Caedmon below deck. A dozen men slept there instead of slumbering out in the chilled night air under the rowing benches. Caedmon threw his friend a thick woolen blanket rolled up like a bolt of cloth and Xander set up a bed on the soggy wood. He lay down and thought of Ana and Saija in the cabin above. As the only women on board they were allotted that privilege and what began as mild jealousy for their comfortable hammocks grew to a longing for the young woman’s presence beside him. He smiled at that. He had a woman to actually call his own now.
* *
The guardsmen at the entrance to the castle both gave curt nods before uncrossing their spears to let the blue-cloaked warrior through. He walked with a casual stride in attempts at hiding the importance he felt. The sound of his leather boots padding on the tiled floor of Pontos’ castle echoed through the hallway. Another pair of soldiers recognized him at the entrance to the royal dining room and eased the oaken doors open to reveal the royal family heavily immersed in dinner.
“So I’m telling Patrick, ‘loose, loose!’ but he won’t have any of it,” King Philip exclaimed. Xander walked to the table in silence, glad for his presence not to be noticed and so interrupt the tale.
“Well,” Patrick began earnestly. “I could not bring myself to kill the poor animal. The buck was grazing in an open clearing of the forest but there was a level of tranquility in the moment. It seemed almost wrong to kill it.”
“Bah!” The king threw his hands in the air, startling his wife and daughter. “It would have been a fine kill… a fine kill.”
“Well hopefully my leaving it where it was will only ensure that it procreates and leaves more in those woods for your future hunts, Your Majesty,” Patrick replied gallantly.
The king looked as though he were about to say something when he caught sight of the silent soldier in the room. “Xander! My boy, come here.” He gestured at an open seat next to Roselyn. “Sit, sit!”
Xander nodded to his king and sat down at a chair opposite the one suggested, next to Patrick. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Horseshit,” Philip said tartly. Queen Isabelle scoffed at that and Xander nearly laughed but noticed the flush on the king’s face was not from indignity but rather from the amount of wine he had partaken in. King Philip was beaming. “Look at this lad, when he left he was in little more than rags and now he comes back with silver about his neck.”
Roselyn looked almost bored as she toyed with half of a potato still on her plate. Patrick slapped the watchman on his shoulder and Queen Isabelle allowed a gracious smile.
Xander laughed. “The chain is new, yes. Sir Aldous requested it of me, as many captains are wont to bedeck themselves in such ways.”
“Captain?” King Philip asked. He looked intrigued. “And here I thought you were the head of Aldous’ guard.”
“You would be correct, Your Majesty,” Xander replied. “I am no captain. I am acting as lieutenant over those fifty.”
The king laughed. It was a boisterous noise clotted with wine. “I take it you’re here to do more than listen to me entertain my family at dinner.”
“Correct again, Your Majesty,” Xander said with a professional nod. “I have reports from Triton.”
“Oh tell me this last month went well,” King Philip said with a look towards the heavens like a gambler praying for a certain card.
“Nothing bad compared to last month,” Xander answered carefully. “We’ve lost eleven men however in a slight skirmish. The Niall House is also looking to you to replenish those couple vessels from last month as well. I think I bring you a solution to the debacle, however.”
“Do not give me ‘a couple’ or ‘a few,’” Philip scolded. “I want numbers.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Xander said with a bowed head. “If you remember, two ships
were lost to the Niall House. None were lost this month. Of men killed there were sixty-four last month with eleven more this one to total us at seventy-five losses.”
The king’s brow was furrowed pensively. Patrick cursed under his breath.
Xander continued. “Gaia has been a bit more aggressive of late. Their vessels make their rounds ever closer to Triton’s boundaries. There has been a skirmish at sea nearly once a week. They typically end without a clear victor at all though, with each side going off to lick their wounds.”
“How many of the bastards have we killed?” Philip asked. He waved away Xander’s open mouth. “My apologies, boy, I know you can’t know that answer. I was just thinking aloud.”
“Of course,” Xander said. “Although I do believe we have stung them just as greatly, but we did gain one ship back after losing the two. Brennus just won a battle the other day and towed back the enemy vessel.”
“Brennus?” Philip asked. A grin spread along his flush features. “That ship’s mine then. House Niall can figure out their own losses.”
“Your Majesty it might be prudent to give this vessel over to House Niall to replenish them,” Patrick suggested. “They would be grateful for a gesture such as that.”
“When you rule Thalassa you can make decisions as you please,” the king replied calmly. “For now, I make those decisions.”
Xander shifted uncomfortably. Roselyn glanced his way and rolled her eyes. He had to stifle a smile as well as a pit of confusion that built in his stomach. Was she paying attention to him again?
“Of course,” Patrick replied gracefully. Without moving from the table it seemed as though his presence had even bowed from the room. He resumed eating.
King Philip gestured towards the bread at the table’s center. Xander reached for it and found it still delightfully warm. He gave a thank you and took a bite, receiving a satisfying crunch as his teeth marched through the golden crust of the bread. The aroma of the baker’s handiwork was intoxicating.
“How big is the vessel?” Philip asked.
Severance (The Sovereign Book 1) Page 30