11. Reyna
Chapter eleven
Reyna
T he wine was incredible .
After all the chatter about the vineyards along the southern Nacean river, Reyna expected it to be overblown. She expected bottles of exotic wine that didn’t truly taste that different from the stuff Queen Tilaine grew near the Capital. But while that wine was dry, almost dense—which matched perfectly with the barren landscape of the Queendom—this was crisp, light, and sweet . Reyna had never had sweet wine before.
It felt like she was drinking juice.
“This is divine,” she gushed, taking another sip. “Ha. Divine wine. Wine-vine. Wine-vine !” She cackled and took another deep gulp, savoring the sugary flavor. Kianthe would be so proud of that pun, because wine grew on vines.
Wait. Wine didn’t grow on vines. Grapes grew on vines.
Yes.
From behind a long wooden bar, the bartender lifted his chin. “Is she going to be alright?” he asked Serina, a smile tilting his lips. He was a plump man with ruddy cheeks and bright gray eyes, and he wore an apron embroidered with the words “ I go both ways” above two wine glasses, one with red thread, one with white.
Reyna liked him immediately.
His shop was also delightful. Packed edge to edge with locals and tourists alike, every single space was taken. The tables were standing height, and a small terrace through a set of double-doors overlooked the river. The entire place blazed with firelight. Two servers flitted between the crowds, offering platters of cheese or refills.
“What’s this called?” Reyna asked, pointing at the small glasses she’d been given. They were itty-bitty, far smaller than a normal pour, but with enough of them plenty to keep her nice and tipsy. Apparently each glass held a different kind of local wine.
She might never leave this place.
“A tasting flight,” the bartender said patiently, casting a pointed glance at Serina.
The pirate patted his hand. “She’s fine. Promise. Bobbie would be towing me back to Arlon right now if not for her.” Now Serina told Reyna: “Drink up. Anything you like. On me.”
“Dangerous offer,” Reyna replied, and downed another glass in the flight. “This tastes like nectar. Am I a hummingbird? It feels like I may be a hummingbird. And hummingbirds fly, and this is a flight, so…” Reyna giggled in delight.
The bartender snorted. “It’s a dessert wine. Paired with chocolate.”
“You have chocolate?” Reyna gasped.
Serina grinned and motioned at the bartender. He sighed heavily, making a show of rolling his eyes as he ducked below the bar for a huge chocolate cake. Reyna was literally bouncing as he cut a massive slice for her, then offered a metal fork with very fancy designs on the handle.
The cake was delicious. Rich in all the right ways, but almost too sweet when paired with the dessert wine. She swirled it around her sampler glass, squinting at the sugar clinging to the side as the wine slid down, then took another bite of cake.
In the meantime, Serina lowered her voice, leaning across the bar. “I need a crew, Judd. A navigator, a carpenter, a boatswain. At least three seamen in addition.” Reyna opened her mouth to comment on the word “seamen,” but Serina held up a hand. “Don’t.”
Pouting, Reyna went back to her cake.
“Six sailors?” Judd the bartender quirked an eyebrow, leaning on the counter casually. “How big a ship did you get, Serrie?”
This time, the nickname didn’t seem to bother her nearly as much. Serina grinned vindictively. “It’s not as big as some. But I need to take care of this one. Treat her right. Which means I’ll need sailors who are somewhat off their rocker, but anticipating adventure where they can get it.”
“I heard tell the diarn’s private ship was stolen from Neolow earlier today. Two women pushed five sailors into the river and laughed at the constables all the way out of town.” A pause. “You heard that rumor?”
“I heard it,” Serina replied, drumming her fingers on the counter. “Seems a bit far-fetched—but if it were to happen, the folk who did it would be awfully bold. And they might need a crew of similar insanity.”
Reyna looked between them like she was watching a jousting tournament in the Capital’s stone walls, perched behind Queen Tilaine’s throne, waiting to see who’d fall off their horse first. She snickered, and the noise gained Judd’s attention. He offered a wry smile and pointed at her empty sampler glasses.
“You pick a favorite?”
“All of them.” Then Reyna dissolved into laughter. “Okay, fine. The not-so-dessert wine.” She tapped the second sweetest, not the one like nectar, but the one above it. “You have red wine? I love reds.”
“Me too,” Judd replied, tapping his apron pointedly. “I think you’ll like these.” And he retrieved another two bottles from below the bar.
“Judd. We’re on a timetable here.”
“With the diarn’s ship, I’d imagine so,” the bartender drawled. He took his time pouring more wine for Reyna, winked as she beamed at him, and then shook his head. “Serrie, you know I love you and appreciate what you’re doing for folks along the river.”
Serina leaned against the bar. “Your cousin seemed pretty excited for that shipment of grain. Her horses were thrilled with the hay.”
“And I’m grateful. Honest. But you’re asking me to find a crew for Diarn Arlon’s stolen ship. That vessel will turn every head on the Nacean now—even if the sailors agree to the risk, it’s a dangerous game for everyone involved.”
Reyna sipped the red wine and felt it tasted more like chocolate than the chocolate cake. She sunk into the glass, releasing a satisfied sigh. “What if we change the look of the ship?”
They glanced at her.
She raised a glass. “Well, the problem is that it’s too identifiable. So, we either steal another ship, or we make it less identifiable.”
“Won’t fool many,” Judd replied. “Most know that ship on these waters.”
“But at its core, it’s another brigantine.” Reyna leaned forward like she was whispering a conspiracy. “We add a black sail, just like your old ship—something we can pull down when we’re ready to strike fear, but bundle up when we’re hiding in plain sight. We rename it. Sand down the gold trim, replace the stained glass with regular. We can’t change the shape, but if we remove those features, it might fool people for as long as we’re in town.”
The two of them exchanged glances. When Judd didn’t immediately protest, Serina’s grin grew. She took a swig of her own wine glass, then stole a bite of Reyna’s chocolate cake. “Delicious. What do you think, Judd? If it’s not Arlon’s ship, how hard would it be to staff?”
“Hmm. Not very. Give me a day or two. I think I can get a crew together.” Judd tilted his head. “What’s the salary?”
Serina told him, and Judd laughed, and laughed, and laughed.
“You could have just said it’s too low,” Serina said, although her cheeks had colored in embarrassment. “I don’t have much else. Shit. Maybe we do need a smaller vessel.”
Reyna thought for a moment, then patted Judd’s hand. “We have vases. Expensive ones. They’ll fetch a sum. I can pretend I brought them from the Grand Palace in the Capital. Unless no one out here wants something from Queen Tilaine.” Bitterness infused Reyna’s voice now. “Since everyone hates us.”
“Items from the queen’s collection will sell, no matter what people think of her. It’s still a symbol of royalty.” Serina slapped the table, then shook Reyna’s shoulder happily. “Brilliant. We’ll have payment, Judd. Just get a crew together, and keep quiet about it.”
Judd sighed. “Your wish is my command.”
“As always, it’s a pleasure,” Serina said, and tossed a few coins on the wooden bar top. “Come on, Reyna. We have some work to do.”
They’d been smart enough not to anchor the stolen ship in Koll’s harbor—instead, Serina had expertly steered into an inlet barely visible off the Nacean’s main path. Dense trees gnarled near the entrance, hiding it from view, but once they anchored, it had been a short walk into town.
Now they traversed the same path, laden with supplies. The moon was bright overhead, and they took turns pulling the cart they’d rented from town. Reyna had stocked many wine bottles in the recesses of the cart, and kept checking to make sure none had broken.
“Matild is going to die when she tastes these,” Reyna said, when Serina saw her checking a fifth time.
The pirate snickered. “Is Matild one of your friends back home?”
“Our best friend,” Reyna confirmed. “She and her husband welcomed us into town when everyone else was suspicious of what we were doing. They made me want to stay in Tawney, despite the weather and dragon attacks.”
“Dragon attacks?” Serina repeated incredulously.
Reyna normally would have minced words, but she was warm and giddy from the wine. “Oh, sure. They burned half the town on a regular basis. We thought they hated that humans had settled so close to Dragon Country, but then Kianthe found out someone had stolen three of their eggs a generation ago. That’s why we’re out here.”
Normally, Reyna wouldn’t have revealed their mission to a stranger—but Serina was feeling less and less like one. And frankly, she had insider knowledge of the diarn’s lands; that could come in handy later on, depending on the records Diarn Arlon produced.
“You’re looking for dragon eggs?” Serina stopped short, eyebrows shooting up. “I mean, shit. I knew the Arcandor would have important business, but I didn’t expect… well, that.”
“If you know where they are, that’d save me an awful lot of time.”
Serina snorted. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen a dragon egg or heard mention of one, much less three.”
Reyna sighed, picking up her pace again. “Well, worth a shot.”
“You should check with Bobbie’s mother. She and the other sheriffs keep a close eye on shipments coming in; I think they’d have noticed dragon eggs.”
“By our standard, they were very well hidden. It’s a tricky search.”
“Well, now you’re a real pirate, hunting for treasure just like the Dastardly Captain Dreggs.” Serina wiped her forehead with her arm and tapped the wooden handle of the cart. “Your turn.” She ducked from behind it, letting Reyna take over.
“Have you ever met Dreggs?” Reyna asked. “We have a biography of them in our shop. Two, actually.” A blush spread over her face.
Serina noticed. “The fan-made version? Sexy stuff.”
“One of Kianthe’s favorites. Still, though—they sound marvelous.”
“They’re pretty cutthroat, by my father’s standards. His ships have been attacked by Dreggs more times than I can count.” Serina didn’t sound upset about that. In fact, she sounded starry-eyed. “But from what I’ve heard, they try not to kill anyone. Their reputation is impressive enough now that they just wave their flag and people hand things over.”
Reyna tilted her head. “You don’t seem to have a bad reputation yourself.”
Serina smiled proudly. “Damn straight. I target ships right before the constables take control of a yield. Farmers are supervised loading everything onto the diarn’s ships, so he has a record of what they’d turned in. Then it hits the water, and I steal what I can before the ship reaches Arlon’s warehouses. He loses his profit, but everyone’s still paid.”
“No one fights you on it?”
“At first, they did.” Serina shrugged, rolling out one of her shoulders. “Now, though, people see me coming and set aside what they can. They know it goes right back to the community.”
Reyna laughed. “Talk about a brilliant plan.”
“It’ll be better once I can hit some bigger targets. Finding ships with crops is getting rarer as the season ends, but there are still families without food.” Serina set her jaw. “I’d love to try a heist at his warehouses, but that’s bold, even by my standards. It’s crawling with constables.”
“Hmm. Sounds risky.”
For a moment, the cart rolling along uneven dirt filled the air. They’d packed the cart full of glass panes, cloth for a singular black sail, and sanding material. Reyna had secured some black paint and a thick fur brush, with plans to paint the new name on the side of the ship. Her handwriting was excellent, after all.
“Have you thought about what you’d rename the ship?” she asked as the vessel came into view. Right now, the name on the side was as ostentatious as Diarn Arlon was: The Prestige.
Serina squinted at it, wrinkling her nose. “My last ship was just called Lathe’s Lumber , since that’s where my dad built it. Let me think on this one for a bit.”
“Sure. Something tells me we’ll be busy anyway.”
They got to work. The ship was too tall to board by ramp, so they had to tie their supplies into a wooden bucket and swim it to the ship. Serina scaled the rope ladder to get on board, then crafted a pulley system to haul their supplies on board. It took several trips and Reyna was freezing by the time they managed it, but eventually everything was locked in place.
Of course, Serina wasn’t one to dawdle—they worked hard into the night, sanding gold trim, cutting and sewing the black sail into the right shape and size. Replacing the glass proved to be a pain: the wooden trim holding the glass in place was more stubborn than Reyna bargained for. Still, she wasn’t much help with the sail, so she tackled this job as best she could.
Dawn’s light was just beginning to peek over the horizon, filtering through the trees, when Kianthe barged into the room and shouted, “Rain, my dearest, I’ve come to rescue you from the fearsome pirate!”
Well. That didn’t take long.