“Stand down, gentlemen!” Wesley shouted. At his order, they paused. “You are quite correct, Sentinel Thranic. Your office does influence how I treat you. Were you an ordinary seaman, I would order you flogged for your disrespect. I am well aware that upon our return to Aquesta you could ruin my career, or perhaps have me imprisoned or hanged. But let me point out, sir, that Aquesta is a long way from here, and a dead man has difficulty requesting anything. It would be in my best interest, therefore, to see you executed here and now. It would be a simple matter to report you and Seaman Defoe lost to the dangers of the jungle.”

Bernie looked worried and took a subtle step away from Thranic’s side.

“I would have thought I could rely on your family’s famous code of honor,” Thranic said in a sarcastic tone.

“You can, sir, and you are, as indeed that is all that keeps you alive at this moment. It is also what you can count on to have you executed should you threaten Seaman Melborn again. Do I make myself clear?”

Thranic fumed but said nothing. He simply turned and walked away with Bernie following.

Wesley exhaled loudly and straightened his vest. “How is he doing?” he asked Hadrian.

“Sleeping at the moment, sir. He’s weak, but should recover. And thank you, sir.”

“For what?” Wesley replied. “I have a mission to accomplish, Seaman Blackwater. I cannot have my crew killing one another. Seamen Derning and Grady, take a few others and bring Mr. Staul’s body back to camp. Let us not leave him to the beasts of this foul jungle.”

CHAPTER 15

THE SEARCH

I think I saw him.”

Arista woke at the sound. Disoriented, she did not know where she was at first. Turning over, she found Thrace illuminated by a streak of moonlight. The empress was dressed in her wispy, thin nightgown, which fluttered in the draft. She stood straight, hair loose, eyes lost to a vision beyond the window’s frame.

Nearly a week had passed since Gerald had invited Arista to the empress’s bedroom, and she wondered if being here was a sign that she was on the right path. If fate could speak, surely this would be how it would sound.

Thrace saw to her safety, guarding her like the mother of a newborn. Soldiers stood outside her door at all times, now in pairs, with strict orders to prevent the entry of anyone without permission. Only Amilia and Nimbus ever entered the chamber, and even they knocked. At Thrace’s urging, Nimbus carried messages to Hilfred.