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Wardens of Archos Page 14
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Lady Nerine smiled. “You’re wise to be cautious. I hoped we could develop a lasting, beneficial relationship between Rifarne and Krymistis. This isn’t a political deal as much as it is an offer of our friendship.”
“We have our own ships, Lady Nerine. Why would I need yours?”
“The Tramuran ambassador is bound to know of your departure. He will expect you to leave under Rifarnee colours, and will monitor your ships closely. You, however, will be on my ship, and slip out under his intrusive gaze.”
Rachael frowned. “How do you know about that?”
“I'm afraid assassinations and ungrateful guests make for interesting gossip. Everyone knows he poisoned your most trusted Sparrow, and tried to have you killed.”
“And how do I know you don't work for him?”
“The gifted must stick together, Queen Rachael, for no one else would come to our defence. Not here, in the North. Arnost Lis knows this. He holds no power in the South. He can try to send assassins aboard my ship if he wishes. My warriors would find them before they have chance to draw their clumsy weapons. I assure you, I harbour no friendly feelings for the man.”
Rachael believed her. “I thank you for your kind offer, Lady Nerine, but I’m not sailing to Krymistis. I’m going to Midoka.”
“Of course. Forgive me, I was presumptuous. How much do you know of the Southern countries?”
Rachael blushed. “Not much.”
“Midoka neighbours Krymistis. We’re only separated by a wide archipelago to the East, but several bridges connect us along the coast. My ship can stop at the closest port to Midoka, and you can be on your way while I travel back home.”
The offer was tempting. Rachael wanted more time with Lady Nerine, and Arnost Lis wouldn’t expect her to sail on a Krymistian ship. “You will forgive me if I discuss this with my advisers.”
“Of course. I’ve taken up enough of your time. We have a long journey ahead, and should rest while we can. The sea isn’t to everyone’s liking.”
Rachael nodded. Her short trip to Temple Isle had given her a good idea of what a longer journey might be like. She wouldn't see land for days, maybe weeks. The thought of being surrounded by nothing but water scared her.
“We will be at the harbour before sunrise, if you wish to join us. I advise you don’t all arrive at once—we don’t want to make your plans obvious to your enemies.”
“Thank you, Lady Nerine.”
Lady Nerine bowed and left.
“I will inform Cale of her offer. Make sure you get some sleep,” said Kiana, and slipped out.
The moment the door shut behind her, Rachael fell into her sheets and sighed. She hoped she’d made a new ally rather than fallen for another enemy's trap.
Rachael welcomed the cool, predawn sea breeze. The promise of a headache was forming behind her temples. Despite the late-spring warmth, the cold winds from the sea had her shivering. It was chilly this early in the morning, and Rachael wished she’d packed more clothes after all. The sun had only just risen, and dipped the port in a rosy blue. It smelled of fish and algae, and the nearby sales pitches from merchants filled the air. The market was smaller than the one she’d visited with Cale, but it was no less busy.
They had taken Lady Nerine up on her offer. Cale had agreed tricking Arnost Lis was a good idea; he wouldn't expect her to leave on the Krymistian ship before the sun appeared on the horizon, and would watch the harbour carefully for any sign of her. To fool the ambassador, they arrived in batches and in hooded cloaks. Rachael was only accompanied by Cale and Kiana; Reeve and Ludo had boarded Lady Nerine’s ship two hours earlier. She wasn’t sure about either man coming along, but she trusted Cale’s judgement. He wanted Lon to stay behind to look after the Sparrows, and vouched for them.
She’d left Commander Dryden in charge in her absence, and he’d been proud to accept. As much as she would have liked to choose a Sparrow she didn’t know them well enough. Commander Dryden had earned her trust, and led the White Guard. She couldn’t think of anyone better suited to defend her country while she was gone. Between him and Lon leading the Sparrows, she was satisfied Rifarne was in good hands.
She hated leaving her people so soon after her coronation. Rifarne was in a weakened state and needed to see a gifted queen could be a worthy ruler, but if she stayed and Arnost Lis found a way to kill her Rifarne would be off worse. Her people were in no position to choose another ruler already. So, while she disliked running away, she saw the wisdom of Kaida’s suggestion. As Kiana had pointed out, it was tradition for a new ruler to visit the other countries and establish friendships or affirm old ones. Rifarne would need more support in the war to come with the Dark One, and Rachael wanted the Parashi—Lady Nerine’s warriors—and the Mist Women on her side.
She only hoped Arnost Lis wouldn’t move against her people just to spite her, but she didn’t think he was stupid enough to cause a war between their countries. He didn’t rule Tramura. He could boast all he wanted, but he didn’t have the power to overrule his king.
Cale was certain the ambassador wouldn't dare attack Lady Nerine's men even if he did suspect Rachael of boarding the Krymistian ship. Rachael hadn't understood why until she saw the warriors flanking the ship.
Two Parashi stood by the plank which led onto the ship. Dressed in golden armour, winged helmets, and long swords, they were the fiercest soldiers Rachael had ever seen. Their chest plates were heavier versions of the dress Lady Nerine had worn to her coronation. Seeing them now, Rachael understood why she’d chosen the armour-like dress for the occasion. It had been a reminder to everyone else in the room that her army wasn't to be trifled with.
Rachael remembered what Cale had told her the day he’d bought her sword. Krymistis was a country that embraced the gift; their warriors were trained in magic as well as in close combat. Their weapons were infused with magic, and were said to be able to repel hostile spells. Seeing them now, proud and tall, Rachael didn’t doubt a single word.
The gift was a normal part of everyday life in Midoka and Krymistis. Would she see magic everywhere she went? She couldn’t imagine a place where people played with spells in the streets, without fear someone might see. Would it be everything she tried to picture, or would the reality let her down? Rachael was excited to find out.
Rachael and Kiana were the first to enter the large ship flying golden and pale-blue banners. Cale followed half an hour later, and Kaida had used magic to enter the ship hours before. Lady Nerine herself had spent the night in her private cabin.
Then the sails were raised, and the ship disembarked. Rachael watched from the front of the deck as they slowly distanced themselves from Rifarne, the only home she’d ever known, and steered toward a world so different she could barely imagine it.
Chapter Twenty-One
There was warm sand underneath her feet. A gentle breeze caressed her skin, warm under the hot Krymistian sun. Tall men, dressed in heavy, golden armour with heavy swords on their backs, stood around her. Rachael couldn't tell if it was the sunlight that made them glow, or the gift.
She followed them, curious to see where they were going. They headed toward a structure in the distance, and she floated along.
The men spoke in a foreign language in rushed tones. Rachael didn’t need to understand them to know they were here for important reasons; she just knew.
One breath later and they reached the structure, a ruin made of sandstone. More men sat around a fire, dressed in the same heavy armour. A sorcerer sat nearby in the long, elegant robes which spoke volumes of his standing back home.
The men greeted each other. When Rachael closed her eyes or focused on other things she could understand scattered words. She was positive she didn’t know the language, but her visions had a way of making her understand the vital moments. They were afraid. They were angry, the sorcerer even more so than the soldiers, who hid it better but were afraid nonetheless. One word repeated more than the others—dragon. She looked up, searching the
skies. They were clear, blue, and beautiful.
Then the men moved, the sorcerer protected in the middle.
Rachael couldn’t see what they were walking to at first, until a narrow passage formed at the wave of the soldier’s hand, revealing steps deep into the ground. The men led on, casting nervous glances to the heavens, and she followed.
The air was cold and stuffy so far belowground. The soldier waved his hand again, and green lights lit around the chamber in their iron wall fittings to reveal statues of guardians and kings and queens long gone.
The sorcerer brought forth a heavy tome from under his robes, and was led into another room. Rachael didn’t follow, much as she wanted to. Her feet remained rooted to the ground.
Two soldiers accompanied the sorcerer, but the remaining men stayed in the larger chamber. They were nervous, shuffling their feet when they believed their comrades wouldn't notice, and cast nervous glances back the way they had come. They were still scared of the dragon. But a dragon wouldn’t fit through the small entrance. A dragon could only breathe fire down the steps, and incinerate everyone trapped below the sands.
Rachael was safe, an observer in someone else's dream, but what of the men? Would they meet an agonising end all over again, just so she could witness it? Would she experience the same pain?
One of the guards looked around, and then their eyes met. He froze, but didn’t alert the others. Rachael froze, too. He held her gaze as he tentatively walked closer to her, one hand outstretched while his other palm clutched his sword. Her sword. Or a twin of her sword. A long-lost sister.
Rachael reached out with her hand, too. His disbelief mirrored her own surprise. Before their fingers met, the sorcerer came back into the room and the soldier stood at attention. The heavy door was shut, sealing the tome inside.
Then the chanting began, and a green light engulfed the soldiers and the sorcerer. They didn’t look to be in any pain as the spell took their lives. They no longer knew fear.
Only peace, and purpose.
Rachael woke to the gentle rocking of the waves. She sat up and reached for her sword. The man in her dream had held the same weapon; it couldn't have been a coincidence. Cale had said her sword was an old Krymistian relic. It made sense that a long time ago more swords like it had been around.
Rachael couldn’t shake the feeling it hadn’t been a simple dream but a vision, but that couldn’t be right. She wasn't fully conscious of everything around her when she had visions. The people she saw never interacted with her, but the soldier had made eye contact. He’d seen her, that wasn’t possible. Her visions were warnings of the future, not detailed recollections of the past. They didn’t take her anywhere. The man couldn't have seen her, never mind reached out for her.
Kaida had said her gift was evolving, that the necklace would amplify it, but this was too much. Her gift couldn’t do that—translate an old language, let her be seen by people who were centuries dead.
Rachael frowned. She recognised the distinct feeling that only came with her visions; a gut feeling, an odd, numb sensation at the back of her mind. How much did they know about her gift? She was the only seer left, if everyone she’d ever talked to about it was correct. Wasn't it possible her gift was meant to be more than mere accident prevention? She needed to speak to Kaida about this.
She also needed fresh air. Rachael pulled a thin blanket closer around herself and left her cabin. The inside of the ship was quiet. A few scattered guards were around, but nobody spoke. Some of them nodded to her, and went about their business. Everyone else was asleep.
She stepped outside, greeted by a warm breeze. The chill of the sea was still present, but more than anything it carried a promise of warmth. Rachael walked to the railing at the front of the ship, and gazed out onto the ocean. She’d believed the water between Rifarne and Temple Isle to stretch forever, but it was nothing compared to the vast scale of the Far Sea. At one point the Far Sea would flow into the Zestian Sea, but there were no clear borders out here. For all she knew they were already closer to Krymistis than Rifarne. There were no visual clues to give away their exact position. She couldn't fathom how the captain of their ship managed it; navigating out here seemed impossible.
A gust of cold air made her shiver. If anything went wrong, no one could come to their aid. Water surrounded them, and nothing else. Rifarne had long since disappeared, and Krymistis was still too far away to be visible in the distance. She’d overheard the Parashi speak of stretches of sand as vast as this ocean, and of cities so large no one knew every corner of them.
Rachael had felt much the same way when she’d first arrived in the White City. Blackrock was a small mining village, barely worth the ink on a map. The capital was exotic by comparison. She was excited as well as intimidated by the prospect of seeing an even bigger city.
“Is the sea’s lullaby keeping you awake?”
Rachael turned around at Lady Nerine’s voice. She hadn’t heard her approach.
“That must be it. I haven’t been on many ships.”
Lady Nerine smiled. “When I was a young girl, I spent many hours on smaller boats.” She laughed as softly as the breeze upon their skin at Rachael's puzzled expression. “I wasn’t born royalty, Rachael. I’m the daughter of a poor fisherman whose wife died in childbirth. I’m the youngest child in my family. My four brothers are all older than I.”
“How did you win the throne?” Rachael couldn’t help herself. Lady Nerine carried herself with an elegance Rachael had credited to her upbringing at court, but she’d been wrong about that. Would she be able to carry herself with such confidence one day?
“Nothing as exciting as that, I’m afraid. We sold fish every weekend at the summer bazaar. It’s a grand affair, we were fortunate to have been granted a stall. One day, the old king himself visited our table. His wife accompanied him, as did his two sons. They were busy examining our wares, but his youngest son, Prince Siraj, only had eyes for me.
“Prince Kalil chose a life dedicated to magic, and went to Midoka to learn under the Mist Women. Our countries have similar views on the gift—the Midokans have mastered the art and have no use for physical weapons, while we cherish our traditions. We’ve always been a country of warriors. Kalil preferred magic, and gave up his title.” Lady Nerine laughed. “I remember the old King’s face when Kalil laid down his sword, and his armour. My Siraj wasn’t impressed. He didn’t desire to be king, but to marry me. He worried I’d be intimidated by the power, and the idea of leading an entire country.” She gave Rachael a wink. “Fortunately for him, I'm not easily unnerved.”
“I'd like to visit Paranossa one day, if we have time.”
“We would welcome you. I’d enjoy showing you my home personally; you must see the summer bazaar. Never forget you don’t need anyone’s permission, Rachael. You’re the queen of Rifarne—not by birth, but because you’ve earned your position.”
“Some would say it’s because of prophecy.”
Lady Nerine waved her words off. “It wasn’t prophecy that allowed you to slay the king. It wasn’t prophecy that gave you the skills to do what must be done. Never underestimate the power of a woman who needs no one’s permission, Rachael. You’re an important figure now. There will be those attempting to take your crown. Be that for themselves or simply because you have the gift won’t matter if you lay dead on the ground, because you waited on others to make your decisions for you. The Tramuran ambassador has already tried. Be strong, and be decisive. You’re a survivor. No one trained you how to live despite the odds. You did that alone, because you had to. You must be a strong leader for the same reason.”
Rachael nodded. “Have you ever had assassins sent after you?”
Lady Nerine laughed.
Reeve leaned against the railing, and watched the quiet swaying of the sea. The cabin he’d been assigned was small; he had needed to get out. He’d spent most of the night out here, under the stars, unable to sleep. Ludo hadn't realised when he’d sneaked out; a sm
all part of him was grateful for the quiet, but another, much larger part was disappointed Ludo hadn't followed him. He still suspected Ludo of being an assassin. He also struggled with the idea. Above all, he wanted Ludo to find him out here and share the quiet with him.
Below deck, the ship was waking up. He’d noticed Rachael step out not long ago and had moved out of sight. She shouldn't have to prove herself to him, but life didn't work like that. Not even for queens or prophesied Sparrows.
“Here you are!”
Reeve spun around. Ludo was grinning at him. Reeve’s cheeks burnt and he turned away from Ludo. This was ridiculous—he wasn't a five-year-old boy, or a hormonal adolescent. He was too old to blush. But Ludo's hair was tousled from sleeping on the hard cabin bed, and his smile was beautiful. It was Reeve's job to notice everything, and it was hard not to notice those things.
“Not a fan of cabins?” Ludo leaned against the railing next to him. Heat radiated off him in waves. Because he’d only just fallen out of bed, or because he was always this warm?
Now that Ludo was here, Reeve wanted to get away from him. He also wanted to step closer and memorise his wonderful scent. He wanted to be someone he hadn't been in a long time.
Instead, he did neither of these things. He sighed, struggling for the right words.
“No. I prefer open spaces.”
He hadn't meant to add that last bit, but it was too late to take it back now.
“Have you been out here the whole night?”
“The stars are brighter out here.”
“I wish you'd told me. I could have shown you the constellations.”
Reeve frowned. “You know constellations?”
“Well, I wouldn't go that far. When my da was still alive he taught me a couple, but I know nothing beyond those. I can show you the warrior, and the dragon, but I've got no idea what else is up there.”
“Then why would you say you can show me the constellations?”
Ludo grinned. It was infuriating. “Because I'm trying to impress you.”