Chapter 13 #2
Vorik came ashore on a rocky beach on the outskirts of the city, more than a mile from the mouth of the river.
He’d retained his weapons but lost the bag of candles and drugs he’d taken from Syla’s cabin.
That didn’t bother him since he’d mostly wanted to ensure she couldn’t use them on him if she recaptured him.
Something told him she wouldn’t hesitate to do so given a second opportunity.
On the beach, the air smelled of salt, seaweed, and berries he couldn’t identify, something that relished growing near the ocean. Clumps of them sprouted from low bushes between buildings and dangled from the top of a bluff farther down the beach.
Body aching, Vorik made himself jog in that direction.
He doubted the citizens were out clamming or searching for seashells when a battle had taken place in front of their homes, but curious eyes might be observing through windows.
When he glanced back, he spotted Syla’s ship tacking with the wind to zigzag up the river, fighting the current to reach the docks.
Towpaths lined the waterway, but there wasn’t anyone manning them at the moment.
Even from his distance, the large marble weapons platform was visible, gleaming undamaged under the afternoon sunlight. If he’d succeeded in even chipping a corner of the thing, he couldn’t tell.
At least he’d survived the projectile that the aunt had tried to annihilate him with.
In his mind, he’d sensed a warning from Syla, not words, but she’d somehow conveyed that he needed to dive.
Immediately. If not for the warning, he wouldn’t have seen the attack coming in time.
It almost hadn’t mattered. The blazing silver sphere had dived into the water right behind him.
Only luck had sent him swimming past a white sturgeon as large as he.
The projectile had slammed into it and exploded.
The underwater shockwave had disoriented him, but he’d managed to stay below, holding his breath and swimming as far as he could before surfacing.
He’d worried the aunt would be watching, ready to take a second shot, and had managed to come up behind one of his people’s ships.
When Vorik passed the last of the homes edging the beach, he stopped with a hand on the rocky bluff to look back and debate his next move.
He hadn’t succeeded in kidnapping Syla, but Jhiton’s choice to shoot at her made him reconsider the wisdom of doing so.
Vorik wouldn’t take her to their camp only to have the general slay her.
Storm god’s wrath, why had Jhiton chosen to shoot at her anyway? Vorik had thought… Well, Jhiton had said he would protect Syla if Vorik brought her to their camp.
He spotted a dead dragon floating out beyond the barrier and answered his own question. Jhiton rarely lost his temper, but he had to be furious at how many allies—dragons and riders—they’d lost these past two days to that weapons platform.
Vorik, Jhiton spoke into his mind, as if he’d sensed Vorik wondering about him.
At first, Vorik didn’t answer. Frustrated with the situation, he didn’t want to speak with his brother.
Did you retrieve the queen? Jhiton added.
Her name is Syla, Vorik snapped, indignation making him answer. You said you wouldn’t let Lesva kill her if I kidnapped her, so I didn’t expect you to loose a dozen arrows at her.
It was four, and you had, at that point—and apparently still—failed to acquire her, so she was manning that storm-cursed giant weapon. Do you know how many dragons we’ve lost to it?
One arrow is all it takes to kill someone, and our dragons are invading her kingdom.
Jhiton didn’t answer immediately, and Vorik expected his brother to question his allegiance, to suggest his loyalties couldn’t be trusted. At that moment, Vorik didn’t care.
That is true, Jhiton surprised him by saying, and I don’t fault her for defending her islands, however obnoxious it is that she’s acquired that device. If I hadn’t, however, kept her busy dodging arrows, she would have killed Ozlemar. She’s targeted us before and was looking at us again.
That’s your fault for having a striking dragon that draws the eye.
Clearly. I’ll inform Ozlemar that you find him so.
You were trying to kill her, not make her dodge. Vorik refused to be drawn into banter by Jhiton’s dryness. He was pissed and would have punched Jhiton if he’d been on the beach.
To knock her off the weapon, Jhiton said, and hurt her so she would be unable to continue using it, but not deliver a fatal blow. I believe I would lose my brother if I succeeded in slaying his queen.
Vorik clenched his jaw. She would have kept using it even if she were injured. And now the aunt knows how to use it as well.
Yes, but she’s more prone to hide underneath it.
Syla isn’t.
Agreed. Her self-preservation instinct isn’t as honed.
She’ll risk herself for her people.
Yes. Dry again, Jhiton said, As I stated before, I see why you like her.
If she tries to kill you again, you’ll deserve it.
I won’t argue with that. Earlier, our incursion team failed to acquire the moon-marked Lady Abrya.
I need you to try again to get the queen.
To get Syla. We’ve regained Harvest Island.
If we can acquire this one as well, we’ll be well on our way to carving out a portion of the Kingdom for ourselves.
And more. Once we have the three islands in the northern end of the chain, it’ll be easier to keep them and use them to stage our troops and gain more.
You’ve a singular focus, Jhiton.
It’s what makes me a capable military leader. I’m not distracted.
I enjoy my distractions, thank you. Vorik almost mentioned how much he’d enjoyed Syla’s company the night before, but Jhiton would be underwhelmed if Vorik admitted he’d been having sex instead of putting all effort into kidnapping Syla and sabotaging the weapons platform.
Or at least learning that the thing couldn’t be sabotaged.
They would have to sink the ship it was aboard.
That was doubtless what Vorik should have been doing instead of enjoying Syla’s company.
“And, yet, I have no regrets,” he said to a seagull eyeing him from a piece of driftwood.
Vorik pushed a hand through his wet hair, feeling bedraggled and hungry.
Usually, he didn’t mind the hardships of hunting, battle, and defending his people against the world, but today…
today he wished he were with Syla instead of against her, with few cares in the world.
Then they could relax and share a meal together, one involving a gardener dessert made with fresh fruit.
Groaning, Vorik leaned back against the rocks. The seagull squawked at him and took off.
Ozlemar and I are with the dragons back on Harvest Island, helping secure it. I’ll check in with you at midnight to see if you’ve captured your queen. If so, we’ll meet up with Agrevlari and pick you up.
Where will you—we—take her afterward?
Lesva’s face floated into his mind, hard and cold. Vorik didn’t want to take Syla to the new camp where the two women would be more likely to encounter each other.
To find the shielder for that island and claim it, Jhiton said.
Where is Captain Lesva?
She is also on Bogberry Island. She volunteered to take your duty of acquiring the lady to question.
Vorik’s fingers curled into a fist, annoyed that Lesva always sprang in to show him up but mostly frustrated that her path might yet cross Syla’s. Has she achieved that task?
Not yet. One of her overly exuberant troops found explosives and lit them off, causing portions of the palace in which Lady Abrya and her husband live in and govern from to collapse prematurely.
Is there a mature time for a palace to collapse?
After one’s desired prisoner is captured and one’s squadron is out.
I would hope we’re not wantonly destroying things. Concerned his comment would be taken as censure for his brother’s plans, Vorik added, Especially if we intend to occupy these islands ourselves once we’ve won the Kingdom.
We’re more concerned about occupying the agricultural fields than the palaces. I understand it has heated baths the size of lakes as well as underfloor pipes that warm the tiles one walks upon. Can you imagine anyone from our tribes living in such a place?
Agrevlari would bask like a recently gorged mountain lion on a sunny ledge.
In the heated bath? Or on the floor tiles?
Both, I should think. Alternating.
So you suggest we give the palace to our dragon allies?
They’ve worked hard for us and made sacrifices. Especially today. They deserve heated floor tiles.
If they wish a palace, I’ll gladly give it to them.
Is Lesva going to try again to get the lady? Vorik found himself walking back toward the city, urgency tightening his shoulders. Syla’s ship had docked, and it made sense that she would go to see the lord and lady who ruled this island under the crown.
Yes.
What if I kidnap her first?
You’re going to acquire both women? And tote them over your shoulders like trussed hogs?
Please, Jhiton. We’ve discussed my smile and its effect on women. There’ll be no need for trussing. Vorik might truss Lesva. If only that would work.
I don’t care who gets whom. I just want directions to the shielder and someone to open the magical door to whatever chamber it’s stashed in.
I’ll handle it, Vorik vowed. You can call off Lesva.
Jhiton didn’t answer. He’d either been distracted or he simply wouldn’t say what Vorik feared, that he wouldn’t call off Lesva. Vorik would have to make sure he got to Syla first.