Chapters (51)
- Dedication
- Contents
- PREVIOUSLY …
- PART I
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- PART II
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- PART III
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- PART IV
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- About the Author
- ALSO BY DAVID WRAGG
- About the Publisher
Then she was gone, a swirl of dark fur and waning torchlight. Loveless stayed at the rail, staring back at the diminishing harbour. At her neck, a blue stone shone in the drifting slivers of moonlight.
Lemon flopped down next to Chel, beside Foss at the stern. She sighed, her breath a long silver plume in the biting night air.
‘At least we’re getting away from that place. Stank like Fossy’s farts, it did.’
‘Hey!’
‘Not your fault, big fella, it’s probably just the food down here.’
‘Hey!’
‘Now,’ she said, humour a little restored, ‘does anyone know where we’re going?’
Tarfel was at the rail beside them. ‘We’re committed now,’ he said in a small voice. His gaze slipped down to Chel. ‘Are we committed? This vessel could take us anywhere.’ He swallowed, his larynx bobbing pale in the moonlight. ‘We could … We don’t have to …’
Chel held his gaze. ‘My father said the righteous need fear nothing but the loss of their resolve.’
‘Is that the same father who died of plague?’ came Lemon’s voice from beside him.
Tarfel offered a weak smile. ‘Being righteous sounds good. How do we know if we’re righteous?’
Chel became aware of Rennic hovering in his peripheral vision, but he kept his eyes on the prince. ‘We do our duty. We do what’s right.’
Tarfel’s quavering stilled, a touch of mirth returning to his pale face. ‘Then let us set sail for treason!’
‘Ah,’ Lemon said cheerfully, ‘I’m sure it’s not treason if it’s for a good cause.’
PART II
TEN
‘Landfall by sundown. Be ready.’ With that, Loveless strode back across the deck to resume her argument.
Chel could scarcely believe it. They’d been at sea for what seemed like an age, changing boats twice already – it wasn’t, after all, a wise move to approach the Vistirlari coast in a Horvaun raiding vessel – but no one save Loveless and Rennic had been ashore since they left Ruumi’s harbour. Chel’s sea legs were well and truly bedded in, and he suspected that he’d pitch sideways the moment his foot touched solid earth.
Raised voices from the cargo ship’s stern did little to draw his attention. The pattern was a familiar one by now: Loveless or Rennic proposed something, the other argued, terse words were exchanged before Whisper stepped in and either mollified or separated them, at least until the next flashpoint. They argued over everything: tactics, strategy – two distinct items, as Chel was by now exhaustingly aware – the wording on any communications sent ahead, even what to have for their evening meals.
‘What do you suppose it is this time?’ Chel asked Lemon, who sat beside Foss, dozing against some sacks.
‘Ah,’ she muttered, ‘who the fuck cares. Maybe he’s beating you too hard for her liking. Or not hard enough.’