Chapter 14
A knock at the door woke Syla from the doze she’d allowed herself after the Stormslicer had docked.
The soldiers who hadn’t been sent ashore were repairing the vessel, and with bangs and thumps reverberating through the walls, she hadn’t expected to fall asleep, but she’d been exhausted after using the weapons platform.
“One moment,” she called after a second knock.
She opened the door to find Fel and Hixun standing in the corridor, burn marks blackening the wall behind them. Portions of the deck and hull were in bad shape as well. At least the vessel remained seaworthy.
“Your Majesty.” Hixun bowed to her.
Fel peered past Syla’s shoulder and into the cabin, as if he expected to find someone else. Who? Vorik?
“You never know,” he grumbled, interpreting her question from the look on her face.
“I think Tibby got him,” Syla said, though she didn’t want it to be true.
“I hope she did, but I never saw him come up.”
“No.” Syla probably shouldn’t have brightened. She did manage to keep from smiling with hope. “I thought you weren’t that determined to see him dead after all the times he’s helped us.”
“He didn’t help anything today. If he’d succeeded in blowing up the weapons platform, we would again be defenseless against dragons.”
“True.”
“And you said he wants to kidnap you.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t seem as bad as his brother wanting to kill me.”
“You should avoid that whole family.”
“I’d argue, but I suspect you’re right.”
“Of course I am.”
Hixun cleared his throat. “Your Majesty?”
Fel stepped back, waving for the officer to speak. Meanwhile, he leaned his hands against a wall and stuck his foot out to stretch one of his calves. The battle had probably left him stiff.
“Have your men reported back, Major?” Syla guessed.
“Yes, the party we sent to the palace returned. They found Lord Oyenar, but he wouldn’t go with them. His wife is injured with a broken leg and possibly other wounds, and he wouldn’t leave her side.”
“That’s understandable.”
“Yes, but our men offered to carry them both back if needed, and he told them to suck dragon balls.”
“I… don’t believe dragons have that anatomical feature.”
“They don’t, but he was pissed. From what the men gathered, a team of stormers invaded the palace while buildings in the city were being blown up, including one of the military barracks, as a distraction.
They were trying to kidnap not Oyenar but his wife, Lady Abrya.
He said they would have gotten her, but, during the fighting, part of the palace collapsed.
The two of them were together and buried under the roof.
He clawed a way out for them and said the only luck the gods sent his way was that the incursion team left when our fleet arrived.
” Hixun waved toward the sea where they’d battled the dragons.
“I’ll get my first-aid kit so your men can take me to them.” Syla turned to retrieve it from the desk.
Hixun lifted a hand. “We’re working to secure the city, but our men already had a skirmish with two stormers, and we suspect there are more.”
“If Lady Abrya is injured, I need to go now. It sounds like she has grievous wounds. I can promise you from past experience that having a roof fall on you isn’t pleasant.”
“Especially if said roof was knocked down by a dragon flicking its tail at it.” Fel switched the leg he was stretching and sent a baleful look around her cabin.
“He’s not in there,” Syla told him. “And neither is his dragon.”
Fel only grunted.
Hixun scratched his head but didn’t comment on their exchange, other than to say, “If you wait until morning, we could have the city secure and—”
“No. I’ll heal Lady Abrya and anyone else in the palace that needs it. Gather men to keep me safe as we walk there.”
“Walk? I’ll find men and a carriage.”
“Queens are capable of walking,” Syla said, but Hixun was already jogging off. At least he hadn’t tried to lock her in her cabin to keep her aboard.
“Make it an armored carriage,” Fel called after him. “That general could still be out there with his bow,” he added to Syla.
“Ah, yes. I won’t object to armor.”
“Good.”
I believe, Wreylith spoke into Syla’s mind from afar, her telepathic voice faint, that Queen Erasbella may have spoken a prayer to the gods or made a formal invitation while near the barrier the first time we flew to an island together.
After that, it wasn’t necessary, so that is why I’d forgotten, but I had to be welcomed the first time.
How come you didn’t need to be welcomed to Castle Island? Syla packed a bag as they conversed, not sure how long she would end up staying on Bogberry Island. Judging by all the smoke and destroyed buildings they’d seen, many people would need healing.
Perhaps because it is your home and that barrier knows you well.
That’s not the original Castle Island barrier though. We just replaced it.
I am uncertain, then, but perhaps, crafted by the gods, the artifacts are ken to more than a mere human can understand.
Are ken? I’d never thought of the shielder artifacts as having intelligence and awareness, Syla said before recalling that the weapons platform had spoken to her, seemingly using the voice of one of the gods. She’d thought it might have been the moon god himself, but maybe it had been the artifact.
They can determine which enemies to keep out and when something dangerous is being cast through your barriers. They’ve some kind of awareness.
True. Syla knew from the historical texts that, in addition to aerial predators, the barriers had kept out the attempts of enemies to, after the invention of black powder, hurl explosives through them from their dragon mounts.
Unfortunately, people carrying explosives were allowed through.
Humans were supposed to belong on the islands. All humans.
If you cannot allow me access, I may need to leave the area completely, Wreylith said. The stormer dragons are attempting to drive me away from the Island of Eliok.
That’s rude.
As I informed them.
If you come back over here, we can experiment, Syla said as someone knocked again.
“Your carriage is ready, Your Majesty,” Fel reported through the door.
Very well, Wreylith said.
Syla secured her pack over her shoulders, but she had to double-check that she had the right one, because it seemed lighter than she expected.
“Because I didn’t pack any books,” she decided after confirming it held her clothing and toiletries.
After also slinging her medical kit over a shoulder, Syla stepped into the corridor.
Several Royal Protectors waited to escort her, and she almost winced, feeling guilty about the men who’d died protecting her.
If she hadn’t been out in the open, they wouldn’t have had to guard her from such a challenging position, but…
what other choice had there been? Someone with a moon-mark had to operate the weapons platform.
“May I carry your bags, Your Majesty?” A corporal pointed to her kit and pack.
“That’s all right. Just be ready to attack enemies if anyone jumps out at me.”
“Oh. Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Queen Lia never let anyone carry her things either,” one of the soldiers whispered to the corporal as the group headed above decks, Fel walking behind Syla.
That prompted a couple of approving nods, but one man eyed Syla and her pack with a darker expression in his eyes. She didn’t know how to interpret it but reminded herself of the captain’s warning about assassins.
The wooden docks along the shoreline had allowed several fleet ships space to tie up, and a couple more of their ships guarded the city from the mouth of the river.
A gangplank had been extended from the Stormslicer, and Syla descended after the troops but paused on the dock to consider the carriage they directed her to.
Four horses were hitched to a wooden wagon with purple and red stains all over the interior.
There weren’t any benches, unless one counted the driver’s seat.
Pieces of metal siding—one was a sign that read Farm Fresh—leaned together, forming a tent in the wagon bed.
A soldier waited to give her a boost inside.
“Is that a hay wagon?” Syla eyed the stains. “Or a berry wagon?”
“We couldn’t find anything better, Your Majesty,” the soldier said.
“The carriage houses in the palace and also by the barracks were destroyed when the stormers attacked last night. We found this and cleaned it out the best we could and, er, armored it.” He pointed at the pieces of metal leaning together.
“Yes, I can see how those would stop cannonballs and dragons.”
“The dragons can’t get through the barrier, and the cannons are all pointed toward the sea.”
Syla debated whether the slender sheets of metal would even stop crossbow quarrels or arrows.
The soldier waved toward the mouth of the river. “Our fleet has also ensured that the stormer ships are secured, so nobody will be firing weapons. Though I understand there wasn’t anyone left aboard those ships when our troops got there.”
“Meaning the survivors all swam to shore and are milling about in the city?”
“Wherever they are, we’ll defend you against them if they attack.” The soldier lowered the tailgate with a clunk. Several cranberries rolled out and onto the dock.
“You were planning to walk,” Fel pointed out when she hesitated to climb aboard.
“A fair point.” Syla reached for the tailgate but paused as the soldier peered at the sky.
High above, Wreylith flew, surveying the island from beyond the barrier.
“That’s your dragon ally, right, Your Majesty?” the soldier asked with a twinge of uncertainty.
“Yes. She won’t bother us. She’s probably scouting for us. Maybe she can find the missing stormers.”
I’ve returned to this island and am nearby if you wish to experiment, Wreylith informed her. Also, I believe I’ve spotted a bog bear snuffling for berries.
I thought you might be scouting the island for our enemies.