Although victorious over the lugger, the tartane chose to flee before the approaching Emerald Storm. It came about and Hadrian watched Captain Seward ticking off the distance as the Storm inched toward it. Even after the time lost during the turn, the Dacca ship was still out of ballista range.

“Helm alee. Bring her over!” the captain shouted. “Tacks and sheets!”

The Emerald Storm swung round to the same tack as the tartane, but the Storm did not have the momentum under it, nor the nimbleness of the smaller ship. The tartane was the faster vessel, and all the crew of the Emerald Storm could do was watch as the Dacca sailed out of reach.

Seeing the opportunity lost, Captain Seward ordered the Storm heaved to and the longboats launched. The Bright Star’s mainsail and mast burned like a giant torch. Stays and braces snapped and the screams of men announced the fall of the flaming canvas to the deck. Still, the ship’s momentum carried it astern of the Storm. As it passed, they could see the terrified sailors struggling hopelessly to put out the flames that enveloped the deck. Before the longboats were in the water, the Bright Star was an inferno, and most of the crew were already in the sea.

The boats returned laden with frantic men. Nearly all were tawny-skinned, dark-eyed sailors dressed in whites and grays. They lay across the deck coughing, spitting water, and thanking Maribor, as well as any nearby crew member.

The Bright Star was an independent Wesbaden trader from Dagastan heading home to western Calis with a load of coffee, cane, and indigo. Despite the Storm’s timely intervention, more than a third of the small crew perished. Some passed out in the smoke while fighting the flames, and others remained trapped below deck. The captain of the Bright Star perished, struck by one of the fiery arrows the Dacca had rained on his vessel. This left only twelve men, five of whom lay in Dr. Levy’s care with burns.

Mr. Temple sized up the able-bodied survivors and added them to the ship’s complement. Royce was back at work aloft as Hadrian finished serving dinner to the crew. Hadrian’s easygoing attitude and generosity with the galley grease had won him several friends. There had been no more attempts on Royce’s life, but they still did not know why Royce had been targeted, or by whom. For the moment, it was enough that Bernie, Derning, and Staul remained at a safe distance.

“Aye, this is Calis, not Avryn,” Hadrian heard one of the new seamen say in a harsh, gravelly voice, as he brought down the last messkid. “The light of civilization grows weak like a candle in a high easterly wind. The farther east you go, the stronger the wind blows, till out she goes, and in the darkness ye stand!”