Winterfinding (13 page)

“
You don’t deny it then.
We’re being used.”

“
There isn’t anyone in
these lands that isn’t being used or using someone. Pretend
otherwise and you’ll find yourself in a bad way.”

“
That is remarkably
cynical.”

“
The real world often is.
Things don’t work like they do in
Yvor and
Nolan
or
The
Owl’s Tale
.”

“
I’ve never heard
of
The Owl’s Tale
.”

“
That hardly changes my
point.”

“
Which is?”

“
You need to stop
complaining. She needs to stop dwelling in the past. Do what you
can now; deal with what’s in front of you, what can make you and
other happy in the future.”

“
Rather philosophical of a
soldier.”

Kees chuckled, “Technically, I’m an
officer.”

“
I suppose you’re right.”
Fery gathered up her branches. “Still, it’s must be difficult to
deal with the news she’s gotten.”

“
Wha’s tha then?” Kees
asked offhanded as he was working on another bundle.

“
Her father, a vicegerent,
isn’t her father. Her real family was actually one of the Spire
clans.”

Kees gave a grunt of surprise, “Well, then,
thank fuck she didn’t die.”

Fery furrowed her brow, “Why’s that?”

“
The laws of both
Silvincia and Sulecin have all holdings of wards pass to their
adoptives. That vicegerent would’ve found himself with legal rights
to that Spire. He’d be clergy and noble. Which would be rather
cushy, when you think about it.” Kees spoke casually, and then
stood. He had the wood bundles slung over his back, “We need to get
back before we can’t see a damn thing.” He walked passed her back
the way they had come. Fery held her bundle of branches in her arms
but stood unfollowing.

“
Oi,” Kees turned and
yelled back at her, “Come along then!”

Fery snapped out of her trace and quickly
ran after Kees. “Getting cold are ya?” He asked as she brushed
passed him. She ignored him, dropping the bundle of branches. “Hey,
damn it.” Kees called after her but she was gone.

The Blockade

Lesur was drunk. He hadn’t always been
drunk, but then again when he really thought about it, he could
only remember a handful of times when he hadn’t been. His sober
life was a blur. It wasn’t going to get any better any time
soon.

Returning from the Lappalan fleet, he had
convened his officers. A barrage of questions came from their
mouths, none of them relevant. It was clear they were afraid, and
in that fear, their contempt of him had shown itself. Like
children, they wanted to either attack or runaway. It was painful
to Lesur just how incompetent his navy was.

The woman must have sensed this weakness.
The way she dealt with him could generously be called odious. She
had mocked his rank, the resolve of his navy, and his ability to
comprehend what she and her fleet were doing here. Every one of her
questions had made him feel as though he was receiving a dressing
down from his mother. He felt his face flush with rage thinking
about it now. Then to have his subordinates paw at him with their
fractious complaints and insipid tactics. She hadn’t been wrong in
her judgment and that infuriated him, made him feel small.

He had taken it out on them. None of them
had ever heard him rage. Son of nobility, they had never been
castigates. The closest they had come was perhaps being scolded on
occasion by their absentee fathers. His voice had changed going
from an innocuous dry croak to a deep, violent snarl. A few winced
while all of them fell silence; he sent them running from his cabin
smashing glasses at their feet.

Now he sat in his burgundy leather chair
that he had dragged from behind his desk to sit in the center of
the cabin facing the door. At first, he had drank and continued to
hurl glass after glass at the door. Now he was down to a single
glass. He held it in his hand pressed to his forehead. In his other
hand, he dangled a carafe at its neck bringing it to his lips
frequently. Each time, his face soured as he felt the arak coat his
tongue and burn its way down his throat.

There came a tentative knock on the door. It
had to be Baxter. Lesur let a jaded grin worm its way on to his
face. Most likely, Baxter had been lingering outside since the
children went scuttling away. Lesur chortled, “Come!”

“
Sir,” Baxter said in
perhaps the most casual manner Lesur had ever heard, “Commander
Moxley is waiting.”

“
Then see him in
then.”

Baxter stepped aside as Moxley entered the
room from which he had been stampeded out of not a few hours
before. He stopped still not two steps in, startled by the
admiral’s presence.

“
Sir, I…”

Lesur leaned forward. With his elbows on his
knees, he poured the arak into his last glass. He held it out to
Moxley, “Here.”

Moxley hesitated. Lesur shook the too full
glass spilling some over its lip and down his fingers, “Take it or
get the fuck out.”

Holding the glass as though it were some
bizarre foreign object, Moxley tried to regain his composure.

Lesur snapped, “Drink it. Then speak your
piece.” Bringing the glass to his lips, Moxley took a reluctant
sip. “No,” Lesur barked, “Drink it. Drink it all.”

“
I’m not
really…”

“
Don’t you dare defy me.”
Lesur had a drunkard’s gurgle, all rage and disgust. “You drink
that all, you need to get at least a bit closer to where I
am.”

Not saying anything, Moxley drank down the
arak. The muscles in his neck tensed but otherwise he made no
outward sign that the drink was anything more potent than water.
Lesur was satisfied. He stood and deliberately dripped the carafe
on the floor. It’s shattering provoked a slight jump from Moxley
and a slight sigh of exasperation from Baxter.

“
Close the damn door.”
Lesur grumbled. Baxter stepped backwards and closed the door
briefly exchanging a queer look with Moxley. “Come here, Kieran, I
need you to know what is going to happen.” Leaning over his desk,
Lesur jabbed his index finger on the spread out map. Moxley came
over and set his glass down on the desk. Lesur paused for a moment,
and then casually flicked the glass off the desk sending it to the
floor to shatter. “The time for that is over.”

Moxley nodded, “I completely agree.”

“
It doesn’t matter if you
agree.” Lesur’s voice was filled with disdain. “You’re still going
to Ardavass. You are going to secure for our navy, sanction to
bring this foreign fleet to heel.”

“
How shall I…”

“
I need ships and all our
ships are locked together in this idiotic chain to continue to
choke this damn dead city.” It was a though Lesur just needed
Moxley there so he could think aloud. “So I need to replace these
wasted ships.”

“
But you can’t break the
siege now. Certainly there are still some in Rikonen that are
looking for the slightest weakness.”

“
True. So I must take the
ships and immediately replace them in the great chain.”

“
You’re going to build
replacements?”

“
Yes, exactly. The answer
is pontoons. We build grand pontoons that will allow our forces to
stay connected but that free up out frigates.”

“
How exactly
do…”

“
There are four or five
proper shipbuilders in our ranks. They will oversee the
construction. We will alter the designs of course to suit our
military needs…” Lesur paused and felt a wave of nausea go through
him. “Baxter! Water!”

“
But even with those
handful of ships…”

“
We need ships, and we
need men. No more reliefs. All marines stay regardless of the
length of their tour. Also, I’m conscripting the crews of all newly
arriving ships. And the ships themselves.”

“
Our men won’t take well
to that. And the privateers won’t either.”

“
They I’ll beat my men
into submission for failing to fulfill their duty and I’ll murder
every privateer who think they’re too good to serve but good enough
to take our nation’s coin.”

Moxley stared at Lesur. He had never seen
this side of the admiral. “You don’t think that’ll be a bit
heavy-handed, an overreaction?”

Lesur brought his fist down hard on the
desk, “There is a war armada out there. Lurking, waiting for us to
blink. We must stand up to them, make them flinch.”

“
But do you really think I
should leave at this time. Given what has transpired
today.”

“
Those fools. They aren’t
soldiers. They cower or boast a sad, false bravado.” He shook his
head. Baxter entered the cabin with a pitcher of cold water. He
laid down a cloth and then set the pitcher down. “Very good. Thank
you, Baxter.” Lesur softened his tone, and then asked, “We’ll
need…”

“
Glasses, sir.” He set two
wooden cups before the admiral. Lesur couldn’t help but give his
valet a smile. Baxter filled both cups and then departed. The
admiral picked up a cup and emptied it. He paused and closed his
eyes. He could felt the cold water move down his gullet and into
his stomach. With his eyes closed, he stole a moment and let
himself relax. Moxley cleared his throat and Lesur came
back.

“
Quite right,” the admiral
nodded, “I will put the conscripts to work. They will join our navy
and we shall have at least a modicum of force.”

“
Facing two fronts is
dangerous. We can’t do that for long.”

“
You’re absolutely
correct.” Lesur poured himself more water. “That is why your
journey to the Spires will not be suspended, only
amended.”

“
What would you have me
do?”

“
You will notify them of
this situation. You will tell them the action I am taking just
outlined to you. And you will demand we are sent reinforcements. If
they decide to break out siege, then we’ll need to strike back. You
need to rally the kyrios.”

Moxley nodded, “What if they…”

“
They must. This is
nothing we can gloss over. This fleet cannot only break The
Blockade, it can occupy or destroy Arderra, Anhra, and Bandra
without hesitation. Do you understand? That fleet can ravage our
coasts without the slightest effort. It’s all because we aren’t
nearly prepared enough for it. It is a mortal concern. If you don’t
convince them, then Silvincia loses the Novostos. We lose it.”
Lesur locked eyes with Moxley. He was drunk, but he wasn’t stupid.
Moxley could see just how earnest the admiral was and he couldn’t
help but feel a kind of pride serving under the old man.

“
I don’t like the idea of
leaving your side, sir.” Lesur began to interrupt but Moxley raised
a hand to prevent him from continuing, “But you are correct. I
don’t just believe what you’re saying; I know that it is fact. We
need to mobilize. I will go with haste.”

Lesur nodded, pleased. “You’ll leave very
soon. First, I need you to find someone to take charge of those who
will make up the conscripts. You have a day.”

Moxley nodded, “I’ll have someone for you in
the next couple of hours.”

“
You’re a superb officer
Kieran, I’m lucky to have you. Make sure you get back here as soon
as you can, because you’ll be the next man to command this
navy.”

Arderra

He had followed her out of the boarding
house that first night. She could feel a presence behind her,
moving too casually, throwing side-eye glances her way when she
paused to take in the new city. To his credit, there was precious
few places to keep oneself hidden.

Arderra wasn’t a tiny village but it was a
quiet one. There were only a handful of folks out in the streets so
too few in which to get lost. Although there were plenty of
shadows, thanks to the town’s novelty of oil lamps atop long thin
metal poles at every intersection, it made casting backwards
glances more fruitful than the more common darkness most thieves
were accustom.

Within one of these halos of soft yellow
light, Jena paused and waited. She stood still with her back to him
as she heard him approach. Fitful at first, as though he didn’t
know what his next move should be. Time felt like slowed, a deep
moment. He made the decision. Coming up to her quickly, she heard
him unsheathe a dagger. She felt his body before he knew he was
near enough to strike. Jena spun around effortless stunning Heston,
who only had an instant to realize his quarry hadn’t just
side-stepped him but was now behind him with a palm stiletto’s
point setting free a pinprick of blood at the base of his
skull.

“
Maybe you know this or
you don’t, but if I press even the slightest my needle end you.”
Jena whispered in a seductive calm.

“
I know what pithing is,
girl…” He felt the blade edge a bit deeper and held his
tongue.

“
Now, let’s not start off
like that.” Jena tensed and fought the overwhelming urge to kill
this pretender. “I think you need to explain yourself.”

“
You’ve obviously got
coin, I just want it.”

“
Try again.”

“
Cozy up to the constable
doesn’t win anyone friends, figured if I got rid of you he’d ease
off on me.”

“
Better but still not
quite right.”

Heston laughed, “What do you want to
hear.”