“Where’s Jor?” Ahnna’s voice cut through the silence from where she stood next to the replica of Southwatch, her hand resting possessively on the large island.
“Downstairs.” Aren’s voice was curt, though Lara suspected the tone had more to do with nerves than with irritation. He’d known her presence would be questioned.
“Commander, perhaps we might discuss whether Her Majesty’s presence is appropriate,” Mara said. Which was unsurprising. The woman had made no secret of her distaste for Lara, barely speaking to her whenever she was in Eranahl.
Aren turned cool eyes on the commander of Northwatch. “We choose our seconds. Our choices are not questioned.” He jerked his chin toward Aster, whom Mara had taken on as her second after his dismissal from the Kestark command. “Unless you’d care to change that protocol?”
Mara held up her hands in defense. “I only thought you’d wish to have someone with experience as your second, Commander. Emra”—she gestured at the young commander of Kestark—“selected someone with age to compensate for her youth.”
Emra had chosen her mother—a battle-hardened warrior whom Lara liked immensely—as her second, and the woman in question rolled her eyes skyward as her daughter replied, “I chose someone I could trust.”
A small beacon of solidarity, but what relief Lara felt at the young woman’s words was washed away when Ahnna said, “Since when don’t you trust Jor?”
Aren shifted next to Lara, his legs brushing her skirts. She knew that not having his sister’s support hurt. From what she’d gleaned from Taryn, Jor, and the rest of the guards, the twins had been close, fighting at each other’s backs until Ahnna had moved to Southwatch. She’d been the key vote of support in this council chamber in Aren’s marriage to Lara, but judging from the princess’s expression, she deeply regretted that decision.
“Lara is my wife. She is Queen. I trust her, and she is my second.” Lara held her breath as Aren’s gaze roved around the room. “Anyone who has a problem with that can get the fuck out now.”
Mara snorted, but everyone else held their tongues. “Let’s begin, shall we? I want to be on the water before nightfall.”
It was a long process of Mara detailing the developments that had taken place over the storm season. What the Northwatch spies had learned about Harendell and Amarid’s intentions. Where their armies and navies were located. The number of ships that had been built or destroyed. Lara listened intently; it was not lost on her that every ruler in the world would kill to have a spy in her shoes.
“Amarid is replacing the ships they lost raiding last year,” Mara said. “But we’ve tracked their progress, and none will be ready by the beginning of War Tides, so we may see some respite.”
“All of them?” Aren asked. “With what funds? Amarid is nearly bankrupt.”
A bankruptcy that Lara knew had been cemented by Ithicana taking the income Amarid usually received for shipping steel across the Tempest Seas. Of all the kingdoms, north and south, her marriage to Aren had cost Amarid the most.
“Straight from the coffers, near as we can tell,” Aster answered. “It’s not on credit. No one will lend to them anymore.” The older man lifted the page in his hand. “There’s a rumor the ships were financed with gemstones, but that seems unlikely.”
Gemstones. The word plucked at Lara’s mind, important somehow, though she couldn’t think of why. “What sort of gemstones?”
Every pair of eyes in the room shifted to her before moving to Aren. His jaw tightened with obvious irritation. “Answer the question.”
“Rubies,” Aster said. “But Amarid has no mines, so it’s likely nothing more than a rumor.”
Lara’s fingers went to the knife belted at her waist, trailing over the crimson stones embedded in the hilt.
“I’m not interested in rumors,” Aren said. “I’m interested in facts. Find out how Amarid’s paying for the ships. If they’re in bed with someone, I want to know who it is. And what their intentions are.” He waved a hand at Mara to continue, but Lara’s mind stayed with the ships. With the idea that there might be someone outside of Amarid interested in financing further attacks against Ithicana.
“. . . a marked increase in Amarid’s import of certain Maridrinian goods.” Mara’s words stole back Lara’s attention.
“What manner of goods?”
Mara’s expression was unamused. “Cheap wine, mostly.”
“Why, given that Amarid makes the best wines and is known the world over for their distilleries, would they import Maridrinian wine?”
“Clearly a few Amaridians have a taste for cloudy swill,” Mara snapped. “Now moving on.”
“Commander, watch yourself.” Aren’s voice was cold.
The older woman only threw up her hands in exasperation. “I assume the Maridrinians are selling what they can in order to buy what they need—I only noted them as they were unusual and it might be a market we can exploit in the future.”
“It wasn’t a large shipment,” Ahnna interrupted. “Our tolls would have eaten up half the profit, it was such cheap stuff. I snaked a crate of it and included it with the supplies for Midwatch.”
Lara’s pulse was roaring in her ears now, the memory of the bottle of Maridrinian wine in the safe house supplies dancing in front of her eyes, along with the smuggler’s ruby they’d found in it. A ruby that was sitting in her jewelry box at Midwatch. How better to smuggle gemstones than in cheap wine that the Ithicanians were unlikely to touch, that they wouldn’t have even noticed, if Ahnna hadn’t played a prank? If Aren had made the connection, Lara couldn’t tell—he was guarding his reactions too closely.
“May I continue?” Mara demanded, and at Aren’s nod, she gave a swift rundown of Northwatch’s defenses, then passed the meeting to the next commander.
The islands both north and south of Midwatch suffered most of the attacks during the past War Tides, and much of the conversation turned to speculation of whether this year would be the same. Lara listened with one ear, but her mind would not let go of the notion that someone in Maridrina was financing the Amaridian navy.
The conversation moved progressively south, the meeting stopping only when someone needed to relieve themselves and resuming immediately upon the individual’s return. There was no time. Lara could feel it: the galloping thrum of adrenaline that usually preceded a storm, but this time it whispered war. Aren took his turn for Midwatch, barely referring to the notes Lara passed him.
“Midwatch Island itself was only attacked once. On the shoulder season, and obviously by an inexperienced captain, as they sailed directly into the path of our shipbreakers. It was as though they were asking to be sunk. Even still, we had little respite, the other islands under our watch were attacked repeatedly.”
They turned to the particulars, but Lara scarcely heard the conversation, her skin ice-cold. Key to her father’s plan had been Lara witnessing Ithicana’s military tactics from the inside, her training allowing her to understand those tactics and how they could be exploited. All of War Tides, she’d believed every opportunity she had to watch the Ithicanians in action had been luck, but what if it hadn’t been? What if it had been by design? What if it had been ordered by the individual financing the rebuilding of those ships?
What if that individual was her father?
“The Amaridian attack on Serrith was the only occasion where we took significant losses . . .”
Serrith. Unbidden, the memory of the attack surfaced in her mind. Of the way the Amaridian sailors had recognized her, but instead of attacking, had backed off until it became clear it was her life or theirs. Which made no sense at all, given that Lara and the treaty she represented were the cause of all of Amarid’s woe.
“You’re up, Emra,” Aren said. “How fares Kestark?”
The paper in the young woman’s hands trembled as she spoke, but her voice was clear and steady as she summarized the state of her watch, which had taken heavy losses during War Tides. Reaching the end of her notes,
she paused before saying, “An Amaridian merchant vessel passed through Kestark two days past.”
“Keep to the important details, girl,” Aster said, and Lara curbed the urge to throw the glass in her hand at his head. “We don’t have time to discuss every merchant vessel blown into our waters during a storm season crossing.”
Emra’s eyes flashed with irritation, but she shut her lips in habitual deference to the older man.
Anything to do with Amarid was important now, and Lara opened her mouth to ask Emra to elaborate, but Aren beat her to it. “Why do you mention it?”
“I was on Aela Island doing an inspection of the outpost, Commander. We noticed the vessel anchored on the east side out of the wind, the crew making a show of doing some repairs.”
“And?”
“And I noticed it was sitting high in the water. Which, given she’d come in from the north, seemed odd. So we boarded her to see what was what.”
“You boarded an Amaridian ship?”
“Peacefully boarded. Hold was empty, and when I inquired their business, the captain told me they were transporting a wealthy noblewoman.”
“Such an exciting tale this is,” Aster said dryly, but Aren waved him silent, which was well timed, as Lara was considering ways to poison the man’s drink to get him to shut up. “Did you see the woman?”
“Yes, Commander. A very beautiful woman with golden hair. She had a maid with her, along with some military types for escort.”
“Did you speak to them?”
Emra shook her head. “No. But I noticed her dress was the same style as those Her Majesty sometimes wears.”
“She was Maridrinian?”
Emra shrugged, her cheeks reddening. “I’ve not enough experience to say. Her Majesty is the only Maridrinian I’ve ever met.”
“Perhaps you ought to have consulted your mother, Commander,” Mara interjected. “She, after all, fought in the war against Maridrina and is thus well aware of what they look and sound like. Either way, it matters little. Maridrinians who can’t afford bridge passage often risk the voyage on Amaridian vessels. They’re cheap.”
“And I wouldn’t have thought much more of it, Commander,” Emra replied, “except we passed through Midwatch territory on our way to Eranahl, and we spotted the same vessel. And a merchant tub like that wouldn’t make it to Maridrina and back to Midwatch in less than two days.”
Lara’s skin pricked with goosebumps as though she were being watched, despite there being no windows in the room. Her father didn’t use women in battle or as spies, the only exception being Lara and her sisters. And she’d paid for her sisters’ freedom in blood.
“Anyone else notice the same?” Aren asked.
Heads shook, but the commander of the garrison north of Midwatch said, “Our scouts caught sight of an Amaridian merchant vessel heading south and east, past Serrith and Gamire Islands, but it looked to be sailing ahead of a squall forming in the west.”
“Is there something we should know about?” Mara asked.
The something was that Lara’s father was hunting for her. Lara knew it and, judging from the tension she felt radiating from Aren, he suspected it as well. But neither of them could say so without raising the question of why Silas was so interested in tracking down his wayward daughter.
Aren shook his head. “Carry on.”
It was Ahnna’s turn at Southwatch.
The princess rubbed her chin, then reached to touch the replica of the island she guarded so fiercely. “All of Southwatch’s defenses are in good order. What damage was inflicted during the storm season we were able to repair during the breaks.” Referring to the page in her hand, Ahnna detailed the numbers of soldiers stationed, the weapons cache, the food and water supplies.
“You all know”—she set the papers down—“that Valcotta was able to maintain a partial blockade of Maridrina’s access to Southwatch, despite the toll it took on their fleet. We’d expected to take a hit to our profits, but the Valcottan Empress is too savvy to give us a reason to complain. We had Valcottan merchant ships lined up ten deep during every storm break, and they bought everything, often at a premium. When the Maridrinian vessels did have the chance to make port, there was little for them to buy. Though, to his credit, King Silas has them prioritizing food, not his precious steel and weapons.”
“It’s all still at Southwatch?” Aren asked.
“We’ve a whole warehouse full of weapons,” Ahnna replied. “It’s all going to turn to rust by the time he ever sees them at the rate things are going. And yet they keep arriving.”
“His buyers take all the steel and weaponry the Harendellians offer at Northwatch,” Mara said. “And the Valcottan buyers know that.”
Ahnna nodded. “But he doesn’t dare use his resources to retrieve it. Not with his people rioting in the streets. They’re starving. And they’re desperate. And they blame Ithicana for all of it.”
Lara’s heart seemed to come to a standstill as a sudden understanding took hold of her. She’d been a fool, imagining it might be over. Had believed, with delusional hope, that without the efforts of her spying, her father would have no way of infiltrating Ithicana’s defenses.
Her father had waited fifteen years, invested a fortune and the lives of twenty of his daughters in his bid for the bridge. He’d lied and manipulated and murdered to keep it all a secret. There was no chance that he’d ever let it go.
No matter what it cost Maridrina.
She needed to speak with Aren alone. Needed to warn him that Ithicana was in as much danger as it ever had been. Needed to do it before this meeting ended, so that these individuals who protected Ithicana’s shores would go back to their watch prepared to fight.
But she couldn’t very well ask to speak to him privately without everyone questioning what she and Aren were keeping from the council.
Picking up Aren’s stack of notes, Lara fanned herself vigorously enough that eyes shifted to her. Then she reached for her glass of water, purposefully knocking it to the floor, the glass shattering.
Aren broke off in his argument with Mara, twisting to look at her.
“Sorry,” she murmured.
His eyes narrowed as Lara swayed on her feet. “It’s very hot in here.”
“Are you well?”
“I think I need to sit down,” she said, then fell sideways into his arms.
38
Aren
“This better be good,” Aren said through his teeth as he carried her down the corridor. “Because I sure as shit don’t believe you fainted.”
“Get us somewhere we can talk,” was her whispered response, confirming his supposition.
Kicking open the door to their rooms, Aren waved away the wide-eyed servants who’d scurried up behind him. “Too long on her feet.” Then he elbowed the door shut, Lara sliding nimbly from his arms the moment the latch clicked.
“We only have a few minutes,” she said, “so listen carefully. My father’s formed an alliance with Amarid.”
Silence.
“Ithicana has spies throughout both kingdoms, Lara, and none of them have reported even a hint of an alliance between Maridrina and Amarid. Quite the opposite, in fact.”
“Yes, no doubt that’s what my father wishes you to believe.”
Aren listened silently as Lara explained the connections between the focused attacks on the Midwatch area, the Maridrinian wine and the smuggled ruby, and the ships being financed in Amarid with the very same gemstones. A stream of small details and coincidences that he might have passed off as nothing, except for the fact he knew why Lara had been sent to Ithicana. Knew Silas was his enemy.
“And there’s the ships lurking around Midwatch. The noblewoman—” She broke off, hesitating. “The noblewoman is only an excuse for the soldiers to be aboard. You know they’re looking for me.”
It was there Aren interrupted. “Of course he’s looking for you, Lara, because without you, his plots, his alliance with Amarid—everything—it amounts
to nothing.”
“But—”
Aren gripped her shoulders. “Without you, he has nothing.”
Lara hadn’t betrayed him, Aren believed that. Trusted her with his heart, with the bridge, with his people. Yet the frantic gleam in her eye formed a seed of doubt in his chest. “You’re certain you didn’t give him any clues in your letters?”
Lara met his gaze unblinking. “I am certain. Just as I’m certain that he’s creating a situation in which he no longer needs me to take the bridge. He’s going to do it by force.”
Exhaling a long breath, Aren said, “Lara, he’s tried it before. Tried and failed, and took catastrophic losses. The Maridrinians remember what it was like to come against our shipbreakers. To see their comrades drowned in the waves, pummeled into rocks, and torn apart by sharks. Silas can hire out all the Amaridian vessels he wants to—it’s not a fight your people will support.”
“Why do you think he’s starving them?”
His blood abruptly chilled. “To try to get us to break off trade with Valcotta.”
Lara slowly shook her head. “That’s the last thing he wants. My father doesn’t want Ithicana as an ally; he wants you as his enemy.” Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. “And he’s done it. My father has turned you into Maridrina’s villain, and very soon, they’ll come for your blood.”
Even as the words poured from Lara’s throat, Aren knew they were true. That despite everything he’d done, everything he’d dreamed of for Ithicana’s future, war would be on his doorstep. Twisting away from Lara, he gripped the foot of the bed he shared with her, the wood groaning under his grip.
“Can you defend Ithicana against both nations?” Lara’s voice was soft.
Slowly, he nodded. “This year, yes. But I expect our losses will be catastrophic. Both kingdoms have far more soldiers to throw against us than Ithicana has to lose.”
The Bridge Kingdom Page 32