I hid my discomfiture at this and followed Cass’s lead.

When he walked directly to the uncovered bow of the boat, I went there with him.

Two other such boats filled with our guard would go with us, the rest of our guard remaining ashore.

But in our boat was Cass, me, Jazz, Hera, Mac, Ian and Nero.

I kept silent and stood next to Cassius as we broke away from the dock.

And I watched the daunting Bailey get closer as the men who labored at paddles that somehow rounded the wheel at the back propelled us.

Slán Bailey was close enough to reach by boat in a short period of time, but it was far enough away, in the unlikelihood a prisoner should escape, unless they were in the best of health, they would find it impossible to swim the distance to shore.

However, through the cold, choppy waters, even for the healthiest of prisoners, it would be a self-imposed death sentence.

It was, I could see, a pentagram of five towers connected by curtain walls. The entirety was built to the very edge of the ragged cliffs that made up the boundaries of the island. There was one ingress, thus, one egress, the front gate with its dock below. One tower, the one at the back, was rather low, perhaps four stories. The one facing Sky Bay was very high, at least nine. The other three were six.

Long, thin, black pennants flew atop all of them.

Fortunately, we made the dock of Slán Bailey without incident.

Cass did not wait for all three boats to arrive.

He took my hand in his, lifted it to press to the side of his chest, and immediately led us up the pier, to the gate and through it.

A man not in the black leathers of the Airenzian army, but instead wearing black wool trousers tucked into black boots with a thick black wool sweater with a rolltop neck and epaulettes sewn at his shoulders greeted us.

As he got close, I saw he also had stitched over his left chest in black thread an insignia that looked like a window covered in crossed bars.

He bowed smartly and said, “Your Grace.” I watched him carefully and continued to do so as he straightened only to shift my way, bow again and repeat, “Your Grace.”

“My betrothed is not fond of bowing, Reginald,” Cass drawled.

The man lifted and grinned at Cassius.

I was surprised at this response, but I just kept watching.

“Of course,” he said and turned his grin to me. “A Nadirii at the Bailey, here to assist in questioning prisoners,” he stated openly gleeful. “My wife is currently at her window on the shore with a telescope, hoping to catch sight of this historical event across the water.”

“You should have allowed her to come to be a party to it,” I replied.

“Hells no,” he said on a whoosh of air, and I stiffened. “She’d be right in all my business. ‘Reginald, you must trim the fat on the meat you give your inmates. Fat is not healthy. They need lean meats.’ And ‘Reginald, just look at the state of these blankets. Bring them home in batches. I’ll gather my women and mend them.’” He looked to Cassius. “As if prisoners deserve decent blankets. Crikey.”