Chapter 102 Ahnna
Ahnna
“What’s the plan?”
Ahnna twitched at Mara’s familiar voice, not having realized that Northwatch’s commander had been one of those who’d boarded to assist.
Mara scowled at her. “Well? We can’t ram them all. Where do you want to start?”
The Harendellians left aboard had all been forced into the hold, so only Ithicanians were on the decks of the enormous ship, it taking all of them to manage the rigging.
Wary of the reinforced bow, the ships of Lestara’s fleet had been doing their best to get out of Ahnna’s way, but some were moving to get alongside, archers at the ready.
She couldn’t outrun them. Not in this vessel.
“The Victoria.” Her voice was raspy, so Ahnna coughed to clear her throat. “It’s flying royal purple, which means Lestara is aboard. We sink it and turn her into shark shit. That’s the goal.”
“Right.” Mara rested her elbows on the rail, her face heavily lined from a lifetime of being outside in the sun.
“Except that murderous tit isn’t Silas and there isn’t a typhoon staring the Harendellians down.
Killing Lestara isn’t going to send them packing—it’s just going to piss them off while they finish the job. ”
“How many ships do you suppose I can sink with this tug?”
Mara shrugged. “Three. Maybe four. We’re already taking on water from the other collisions, and it’s not going to be long until this thing goes down like a rock.”
“Will sinking four ships win this fight for us? Will it make them surrender?”
“Nah, we’re done. It’s just a matter of how many of the bastards we can take down with us. Word’s been sent south, and everyone will be fleeing to Maridrina and Valcotta. Ithicana dies today, Ahnna.”
Not just Ithicana, but everyone she loved. Lestara would surely execute any survivors on Ornak once the island was taken, and Lara and Aren wouldn’t flee. They were going down with the ship.
And James…
Her eyes burned, her vision filling with his expression as she’d sailed away, and she desperately wished he was with her. Wished that they could fight through this final moment together, rather than dying apart.
I’ll find you, she silently whispered. Whatever comes next, I’ll find you.
Then she squared her shoulders. “If Ithicana must fall, let’s make this last battle about giving tomorrow to those who survive us.
” Ahnna shifted the wheel, then ducked as an arrow shot over her head.
“Harendell has a baby king, Mara. With Lestara as his mother, he has no more chance than William did with Alexandra. We’re going to give him a chance.
Give him a chance to be better, because if Ithicana is to be ruled by a Harendellian, I want them to be ruled right. ”
“Killing Lestara won’t guarantee that. He’s got a lot of years of growing, and who knows who will rule until he’s of age.”
How much different would the baby king’s life have been if he’d had the chance to know his uncle? What sort of man would he have grown into with James at his side? It broke her heart that she’d never find out.
“Virginia will rule.” Ahnna lifted her chin. “She’ll do right by him, if given the opportunity.”
Mara cracked her knuckles, then retrieved a shield from a dead soldier who still held the grip.
“There are worse things to die for. Get yourself a shield and something to hold on to, friends,” she shouted to those in the rigging.
“We aim to give the Victoria to the Tempest Seas, but we’ll have to fight our way through to her! ”
Ahnna set the Victoria’s bulk in her sights, but she could feel the ship sinking lower in the water. There was nothing nimble about the vessel she sailed—it was like a battering ram, all strength and momentum.
She clipped another vessel, and it heeled over with a groan, spilling soldiers into the water before it righted itself, but her ship didn’t alter its course. Deep in its bowels, she heard it groan as water poured in through the gashes and gouges in its hull, its fate certain.
But not yet.
Arrows rained down on the deck, Mara and another Ithicanian protecting her with shields, but above, she heard a scream. Then another, and a body fell from the rigging to hit the deck with a heavy thump.
Ahnna kept her course.
They struck another vessel, the crunch of wood deafening, and below, those they’d imprisoned in the hold began to scream. The ship shifted lower, moaning its death knell, but Ahnna ignored it, her eyes on the Victoria.
The jewel of Harendell’s navy seemed to understand it was a target now, but the sailors weren’t moving quickly enough. Sails billowed, and the ship rotated, but it was pinned in by the ships intended to protect it. The wind chose that moment to die, every sail falling limp, and Ahnna smiled.
Then her smile faltered. Because standing on the deck, dressed in a golden gown, was Lestara. And in her arms was a child.
No.
Across the waves, Ahnna swore that Lestara gave her a smile of triumph, and a scream of fury tore from Ahnna’s lips. With a heave, she threw her weight against the wheel, trying to turn the dying ship. Trying to avoid a direct strike that would kill the very child she’d aimed to save.
The ship moaned, momentum driving it onward, turning slightly to port. Then a bit more. And then it shuddered as the rudder broke free.
The sailors on the Victoria were making progress, but it wouldn’t be fast enough. Ahnna howled, and the ships impacted.
Her great fortified monstrosity scraped down the side of the flagship, splintering oars and sending everyone aboard toppling.
Ahnna was knocked off her feet, but in a flash, she was running.
Leaping down stairs and heading to the starboard rail.
Her boot hit it, and she leapt, tumbling across the deck in a roll.
She was on her feet in a heartbeat, sword in hand, running toward Lestara, who was sprawled on the deck with the crying baby in her arms.
Kill her. Kill her, and end this!
Weaving between soldiers who were trying to regain their feet, Ahnna angled her sword so that she’d hit Lestara but not the baby, only for a heavy weight to strike her in the side.
In a heartbeat, soldiers were piled on top of her, driving the air from her lungs.
Her sword was ripped from her hands, and her wrists were tied behind her back.
“Would you like me to slit her throat, Your Grace?” a familiar voice said, and Ahnna turned her face to find Archie Bennett holding a knife to her throat.
With the help of servants and soldiers, Lestara had righted herself, though she ignored the sobs of the child in her arms.
Her goddamned shield.
Righting the crown on her head, Lestara gave a serene smile. “That is not proper conduct, Archie. Keep her restrained. She might be useful in negotiations for surrender.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Are we damaged?” She gave the baby a slight jiggle, then an annoyed glare when he didn’t cease crying.
“Casualties among the oarsmen, but we’re seaworthy,” the captain called, then from above, a voice shouted, “The Cardiffian fleet has arrived.”
“Wonderful of my father to be on time.” Lestara sighed. “Keep the princess on deck. Let her watch as we finish this.”