Энтони Райан - Queen of Fire

She felt a gentle touch on her arm and turned to find the Shield at her side, favouring Alornis with his broadest grin. “A remarkable feat, my lady,” he said. “A weapon to win a war if ever I saw one. Wouldnʼt you agree, Highness?”

Lyrna took a breath, feeling the tremble abate as the warmth spread from his touch. “My Lady Artificer exceeds all expectations,” she said to Alornis. “Do you have more of these?”

“I brought sufficient components for only another two, Highness. Perhaps, when we reach our destination I can fashion more if the right materials could be found.”

More? Iʼm not sure I want one. “Please proceed with construction. Fleet Lord Ell-Nestra will decide which vessels will benefit from your mighty gift.”

She tried to sleep but found herself unable to settle, squirming in her bunk and trying to force the image of the flaming arc from her mind. Finally she abandoned the attempt and went to seek out Alornis, Iltis rousing himself and following without need of any instruction. The Queenʼs Artificer was hard at work in the corner of the hold given over to her various novelties. Furelah lay in a hammock nearby, her sleep untroubled by the gentle sway of the ship. “Her stomach seems to have adjusted to ship life,” Alornis said, looking up from a length of copper tubing. “Sleep comes easier to her now.”

“She is fortunate,” Lyrna replied. “You find her work satisfactory, I trust?”

“Sheʼs very deft and clever, Highness. Given enough time Iʼm sure sheʼll craft some devices of her own.”

Lyrna sat on the bench opposite Alornis, watching her work, nimble hands shaping the copper tube as she held it over a flame to soften the metal. “You should get some rest yourself,” Lyrna told her.

A faint tic of discomfort passed across Alornisʼs brow, though she remained intent on her task. “I find sleep often eludes me these days, Highness.”

“You miss your brother, and Alucius.”

She saw Alornis smother a sigh and put the tube aside. “Is there something you require, Highness?”

“Donʼt you wonder what he would have made of this? If he would have been as fierce in his devotion to this cause as you are?”

“Alucius was a peaceful man. It didnʼt save him.”

“He was also a spy in service to a foreign power. Did you know that?”

“Not until recently. The slave soldier, the one set to guard him, came to me before he left with Brother Frentis. Alucius gave him a message for me before he died. So yes, I know all about his… unfortunate allegiances, and I find it does not lessen my opinion of him one whit.”

“What else did the message say?”

“Words for my ears alone, Highness.”

Lyrna felt she could discern the contents of the freed Kuritaiʼs message clearly enough from the guarded look in Alornisʼs eyes. Did you love him back? she wanted to ask, but stopped herself. “War has changed us all,” she said instead. “And I know Alucius would not have relished seeing the change in you.”

Alornisʼs gaze became a hard glower. “Or in you, Highness.”

“You have a choice, I was robbed of such luxury the day they took my face and came to ruin our nation. But you can still turn away. How do you imagine youʼll feel when that monstrous device of yours turns men into living torches? The cries of a burning man are not an easy thing to hear.”

“You have asked all of us to bear many burdens. Iʼll not shirk mine.”

I will send you back the moment we land, Lyrna decided as Alornis returned to her work. I should never have brought you, the Realm has no need of one more twisted soul, however skilled.

She raised her head as a shout sounded through the decking above, soon followed by a tumult of booted feet and the rapid pounding of the bosunʼs drum calling all hands to arms.

“What is it?” Alornis asked.

“An enemy ship.” Lyrna rose and made for the steps to the upper deck. “Perhaps weʼll have an early opportunity to see your novelties at work.”

Crewmen ran to their stations, weapons in hand, whilst archers climbed the rigging with bows on their backs. The deck below her feet thrummed with the din of Lord Nortahʼs regiment readying itself for battle. She found the Shield at the starboard rail, eyeglass trained on something to the south.

“How many?” Lyrna asked, moving to his side and peering into the gloom, finding only the faintest smudge some miles distant. The sky had brightened somewhat, still dim and thick with cloud but there was enough light to reveal the horizon.

“One,” he replied and pointed to a smaller Meldenean vessel a half mile away, sails full and wake bright about her hull as she ploughed towards the newcomer. “Iʼve signalled the Orca to investigate.”

Lyrna glanced at the prow where Alornis and Furelah were busy readying the ballista and resisted the urge to order her below. “A patrol ship?” she asked Ell-Nestra.

“Most probably, though theyʼre too far out for this time of year.”

It took perhaps a half hourʼs tense waiting as the Orca faded into the misted horizon before the Shield gave a satisfied grunt and lowered his spyglass. “The Orca hoists the signal for a captured prize and requests we come alongside.”

“Then do so.”

The Shieldʼs orders sent men hurrying to haul sail and it wasnʼt long before the Orca came into sight, her sails lowered as she wallowed next to a dark hulled Volarian freighter, held close by numerous lines and boarding ladders. Lyrna could see several Meldeneans on the Volarianʼs deck, standing over a short line of kneeling captives, all grey-clad with one exception. A red-clad, Lyrna wondered as the captiveʼs appearance became clearer. In the middle of the ocean with no escort.

“Have that one brought aboard,” she told the Shield, pointing to the red-clad who she now saw was of somewhat ragged appearance, his robes dishevelled and face grey with stubble and fatigue. Peering closer she found a familiarity to his features, a resemblance to another red-clad who had the misfortune to find himself in Meldenean hands. “And signal the ship carrying Aspect Caenis,” she added. “I have need of one of his brothers.”

“How old are you?”

The red-clad stared back at her with dull eyes, features slack with fatigue. She had ordered him taken to her cabin where he sat slumped in a chair with Iltis standing at his back. Brother Verin of the Seventh Order stood near the door, a thin young man with a nervous smile who had only managed the barest mumble of acknowledgment at Lyrnaʼs greeting before bowing with such haste he nearly fell over. She could only hope his awe didnʼt affect his gift.

As the red-clad continued to stare silently Iltis put a large hand on his shoulder, leaning down to speak softly in his ear. “Answer the queen or Iʼll skin your hide before the pirates throw you to the sharks.”

From the red-cladʼs spasm of anger Lyrna deduced his understanding of Realm Tongue to be more than adequate, though he spoke in Volarian. “Older than you can imagine,” he said, his voice the cultured vowels of the Volarian ruling class.

“Oh I think not,” Lyrna replied in Realm Tongue. “And speak in my language, if you please. As to your age, from what your sister told me, I estimate you to be somewhere over three hundred years old.”

His gaze regained some spark of life at the mention of his sister, though he gave no reply.

“Honoured Citizen Fornella Av Entril Av Tokrev,” Lyrna went on. “She is your sister is she not? And you are Council-man Arklev Entril.” Whose son I had the pleasure to kill some months ago, she added silently.