Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
Erinna thanked the Mother Goddess once again that she had not been born a mage—at least, not a lawful one, anyway.
From the spacious and terribly ornate window of the captain’s office, she watched as foreign mages dressed in mourning robes journeyed toward the castle walls.
The most devout would already be gathered around the Chancellor’s tower, kneeling on a slab of black marble.
They’d continue their exaltations from sun-up to sundown in preparation for Iprix’s passing.
Most of them were mere pilgrims from one of the great continents.
Tarthan mages had already paid homage and respect when the bells first started to toll.
Another gong of the impending death bell. Erinna had lost track of how many had rung that day.
“Please,” she whispered and resumed her nervous pacing around the decorated military office. “Please wait until after we complete this deal.”
Her boots crushed delicate cloth made by the finest weavers from the Great West. The luxurious fibers dyed a blue so deep it resembled the ocean at midnight.
Silver thread embroidered stars, in the image of The Great Gazer constellation.
A starry visage only visible during the winter solstice.
To see it was a great blessing for a sailor and promised an easy voyage.
It was silly, Erinna thought, to have such a fine piece of craftsmanship situated in the naval ramparts overlooking the sea. Humid saltwater breezes would wreak havoc on the carpet and provided a comfortable home for mold and mildew.
Another toll of the bell.
She winced at the ringing in her ears. “Gods, just let him pass in peace.”
“Dearest, keep the blasphemies in your head.” Kenneth lounged comfortably in a red velvet chair, eyeing the bag of baked goods from Madds.
If they had been meeting with anyone else, he would have dug into the buns and pastries that slept in the sack tucked beneath Erinna’s chair.
But they couldn’t afford a poor first impression. Erinna had made that abundantly clear.
She bit the inside of her cheek to silence more treasonous griping. Her father was right. It would not bode well to besmirch a great pillar of the Tarthan nation.
The old mage was revered to near piety. Erinna was sure the populace prayed more to the Chancellor for wealth than to the Everdawn. But who knew how powerful the Synod of the Everdawn would become once Iprix finally passed.
Erinna bore little sentiment for the mage.
He’d become a bumbling old man before she could read and was bedridden for most of her life.
In his last few decades, Iprix was more a figurehead than a functional member of the king’s council.
He should have stepped down a decade ago and appointed a new Chancellor.
Instead, his passivity and arrogance paved the way for the Church of the Everdawn to weave its influence, condemning poor families to misfortune in the name of faith and justice.
She felt guilty, of course, for lacking such sorrow.
But she and her colleagues were among the living.
And the living needed coins to continue their life.
More importantly, the Yarrows needed the advance to pay for much-needed supplies.
The full payout would allow franchising and continued merchant comfort.
It would also allow more safety in smuggling aberrants out of Tarth.
“I don’t know how you can be so calm.” Erinna eyed her father as he lounged in his seat. She envied his apparent serenity.
Meetings this important always spiked her anxiety, but being so close to the dungeons and interacting with the captain of the Royal Navy pushed her to near panic. They had just sent the Kelloris away with their aberrant child two days ago.
There was no life for an aberrant in Tarth. And there was no life for those found aiding their escape.
She turned her gaze back to the window, a sheen of sweat building on her brow despite the fresh coastal breeze.
Captain Wayne Barker was afforded a view as practical as it was scenic.
From the comfort of his office, he could watch the ships that came for trade and those that left the docks.
Just to the east was the palace, its marble structures gleaming below the late summer sun.
And just below the parapet, bathed in the late morning rays, was the gallows.
It had been months since the last trial, and a crowd was already gathering for the spectacle. It churned her stomach to watch.
“Have a little more faith, Eri. We have more power than you think. And if money gets too tight, we can always resort to privateering.”
Erinna looked at her father in bemused shock. “Now who’s spewing blasphemies?”
“We’re not that far off,” he muttered under his breath as the door opened with a soft creak.
Captain Barker finally arrived, half an hour late, but Erinna dared not mention it despite her temptation.
Dark brows were furrowed in thought, and hard creased lines etched his face.
The captain was an intimidating man in stature and in reputation.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Taking a seat in an even more lavish chair, the captain pulled a list of requirements from his desk.
The Navy’s older boats needed many anticipated updates, especially with the new witchstone embedded ballasts. They would enable more precise steering and amplified protection from arcane onslaughts.
In one swift move, Kenneth pulled a fine bottle of liquor from his bag. A gift for the potential client.
Captain Barker eyed the fine vintage. “You have great taste,” he said, and the pleasantries began.
Erinna took that time to review the proposed terms and still her nerves.
She lacked the social graces for exchanging vapid niceties.
It more often disconcerted people when she tried small talk, and her forced smile was uneasily toothy.
The bell tolled again.
“I’ll offer you fifteen-hundred croons for two frigates and an academy charter.” Captain Barker tapped his desk in emphasis, as if confidence could cover a mediocre deal.
Erinna couldn’t help herself. “That will barely cover costs and, unless there is a new law I don’t know about, the Navy doesn’t have jurisdiction with academy contracts.”
Tension filled the room from her brashness. She stole a look at her father, whose lips twitched in an effort to conceal a smile. Captain Barker, on the other hand, was less than charmed.
His eyes narrowed, but he refused to linger his attention on her. Instead, he turned to Kenneth.
“It’s a shame your daughter couldn’t participate in last year’s debutante ball. I fear she is too old for the next one.”
Rage burned beneath her skin. In polite society, having a daughter like Erinna would be less than ideal.
With no semblance of apparent arcanum prowess, a total lack of fine arts ability, and little patience for philosophical education, it would have been best to marry her off.
The least she could do was have children to continue a family line.
But much like his daughter, Kenneth was not known to suffer fools. Erinna was better suited at his side and with the business.
“Captain, if you’ve only brought us here to insult a member of Yarrow Yard, I’m afraid you will have to settle for the Anderson Shipyard.” A fine establishment, albeit basic. Erinna took a small amount of pride when the captain outwardly cringed at the idea of another shipyard.
“No, I need your craftsmanship. I’ve lost too many ships already,” said Captain Barker.
Erinna sucked in a sharp breath and hoped it wasn’t noticed. There had been no whispers of foreign tension, and sure, they may lose a few ships to pirates, but the urgency in his tone was unsettling.
“You won’t lose as much once we fix what you still have.” She pulled a contract from her bag, most of it already filled in, and started to pen a few more terms. It didn’t matter how fine the wood was, how durable the steel and copper were, no other shipyard had what the Yarrows had.
The first and only druid in the last hundred years.
Kenneth could bend wood with just a hand and mend splinters and cracks with the air itself. The barter was nothing but a show, so Captain Barker felt he still had control of the situation.
“We would be happy to negotiate the budget. First, let’s discuss the ships.” Erinna’s smile was tight. Fortunately, the captain’s fury started to ease when the topic went back to business.
“If I’m being honest, I could use a retrofit to all my docked ships.
But, you see, the academy is stretched for materials at the moment, so I offered to assist Dean Harrowood.
He could use a few witchstone ballasts if you had time to spare.
I would be happy to show you the letters if that would suffice.
” Captain Barker reached into the drawer to pull out letters still immaculately pressed.
Contempt rolling off her father in waves. He was always avoiding contracts with the academy. She couldn’t blame him. The institute was a symbol of everything Erinna wasn’t allowed to be. And Dean Harrowood was a strict, aberrant prosecutor.
“We won’t be able to work on the academy ships, but I would be happy to refer you to one of my contractors from the south,” her father said with strained amiability. Erinna could see the tick in the captain’s jaw. It was not the answer he wanted to hear.
“But we can offer a wholesale price on the bulk of your vessels.” Erinna was quick to chime in before the focus was lost to frustration once more.
She continued. “For a full total of six thousand, we will assess and outfit your docked ships.” It was a hefty sum for most, but the Navy could afford it. And it would be considered quite a deal to fix and refine the eight ships she noted, docked in the Navy yard.
“I can spare five thousand.”
“That will do.”
Erinna updated the terms, and Barker made notes in his ledger. Kenneth finished his glass and placed the delicate crystal on a side table with a thunk.
“We can get it done faster with another pair of hands. Anyone below qualify for work rehabilitation?”
Erinna’s breath caught. Her heart hammered against her ribs.
How could he ask this now, of all times?
The Yarrows had instituted a rehabilitation program for non-violent offenders nearing the end of their sentences.
But Captain Barker despised the arrangement and rarely granted her father’s requests.
Rexin was the last person her father managed to employ—and that was years ago.
Captain Barker’s jaw clicked. “No.”
Erinna balled her free hand into a fist, nails digging painfully into her skin. She couldn’t believe he was asking the captain for a chance to vet prisoners. Her father’s hot head would be a death sentence here. Please, she begged, please wait until this is done.
“That carpenter was a fantastic addition to the team. Increased our output by an entire ship. Sure you couldn’t spare another bread stealer?”
The look Captain Barker sent in return was piercing and final. Erinna shot her own chilling glare at her father. What the hells was he trying to do? Did he want to draw unwanted attention? She hoped her look was enough to pass along the message.
The captain leaned over the desk and fixed a cold gaze on Kenneth.
“Remind me,” Captain Barker continued, taking a savoring gulp of his drink. “What did you do before starting your business, Mr. Yarrow?”
Another toll of the bell. Chancellor Hagan was greeting The Reaper and waiting for his scythe to slice.
“Once signed, we will be on our way.” Erinna slid the paper across his desk, but the captain remained fixed on Kenneth. He poured another round of the fine liquor.
Were they brought here just for business? Erinna started to wonder; the tendrils of paranoia clawed deep into her chest. He couldn’t know. They were so careful…most of the time. She rubbed her sweaty palms against her pants.
Kenneth picked up the glass but did not drink.
“I traveled, interned mostly, with builders from the Eastern and Western continents. Nothing nearly as exciting as your exploits.” The last statement was clipped and pointed.
How had the conversation devolved to this extent?
Venom on venom. The bell sounded once more.
“Your late wife was from the Great North, if I’m not mistaken?
” Captain Barker’s eyes flickered to Erinna.
Most of her features resembled her father, from her dark brown hair to gray-blue eyes and the splash of freckles across her cheeks.
The relation was unmistakable. But her mother’s heritage was in her subtle features—her high cheekbones, the slight curl in her hair, the pale pink tint of her skin.
What truly frightened Erinna was that no one else was supposed to know where her mother came from. According to immigration ledgers, Twyla Hargrove was born in Kailani, the capital of the Initian Islands.
Erinna could hear the glass in her father’s hand crack. His face, normally jovial and kind, had hardened to stone. She didn’t know much about her mother, but she knew her parents had been in love. Pure and true.
“How did you meet her? I find it fascinating that a merchant would make his way so far into monstrous territory,” he goaded, clearly waiting for a reaction or to pull some answer to an unspoken question from her father.
“Twyla was not a monster.” The wood in the office creaked against his magic, threatening to ignite. White-hot panic spread through Erinna’s body. There was no way to take back Kenneth’s mistake. His response all but confirmed the captain’s suspicions.
Captain Barker arched his brow. “That’s not what I said.”
Kenneth gave him a tight-lipped smile. Jaw clenched as he switched the subject.
“How is your lieutenant? I hear he suffered from a nasty bit of Burnout. A shame. Seems we’re losing mages as quickly as your ships.”
Erinna gulped. Captain Barker glared.
Another gong rang from the tower.
The contempt in the room intensified, and a growing pit in her stomach warned Erinna of impending peril the longer they remained with the captain. They needed to leave. Immediately.
“To thank you for keeping us safe from wherever monsters may come from, I think we can drop the charge to four thousand croons, and we will outfit the latest academy frigate with witchstone ballasts.”
The discount cut through the tension as only a bargain could.
Kenneth seethed in his chair beside her as Captain Barker signed the document.
“We look forward to this partnership,” Erinna grumbled. They were out the door before the ink was dry.