“My lord,” Robbert returned. “Sir Lothar was just updating us on his night on watch.”

The Lord of Rockfall nodded. That was clearly the reason why he had joined them. “And what did you spy from the cliffs, sir?”

“Little and less than little,” Lank replied. “And a little less than that. There’s no one on the nearest road, no enemy soldiers coming up the coast, no beasts or monsters prowling the plains. We did spot an eagle or two, but when is that not the case? Oh. And a ship. As I was just telling Prince Robbert and Captain Burton. One of Lord Swallow’s is heading this way.”

Huffort seemed mildly disappointed to learn it wasn’t another of his own. “One of Simon’s. But not Shadow?”

“Not big enough or black enough. It is most likely to be Greystar or Wild Raven, according to Sir Gregory.”

“Sir Gregory,” repeated Huffort. “Why isn’t he reporting this himself?”

“He is weary from the watch,” Lothar said. “I am just as capable as saying the names of ships as Sir Gregory is, my lord.”

Huffort made a doubtful sound. He did not much like Sir Lothar, and the feeling was most assuredly mutual. “And when this ship gets here?” Huffort looked at Robbert with a set of demanding eyes. The man was grouchy, hard-headed and craggy-faced. He had coarse prickly stubble on his head, severely balding at the crown, and coating his slab of jaw as well. “Are we to hoist anchor and sail home, Robbert?”

“In a day or three,” the prince told him.

“And where?” The word was loaded with doubt. Lord Lewyn Huffort had made his preferences known several times already. He wanted to sail north, to Bhoun, then cruise the Rasal coastline westward through Whaler’s Bay. If they came afoul of some monster or other mishap, they would be close enough to shore to reach safe harbour somewhere, he argued. If not, they could continue to sail the coast until they reached the Links, and then sail up the Sibling Strait to Rockfall, his city seat on the eastern shores of Tukor. Lord Lewyn Huffort believed that was the safest route. Once there, he would muster the remainder of his levies and march to war. Or so he claimed.

Robbert believed otherwise. Huffort might look like a warrior, and might have even fought as one once upon a time, but he’d shown himself to have a coward’s heart of late. The prince knew his true intent. He wants to hide in his city, Robbert thought. Rockfall was built into the base of the mountains and had strong underground bunkers well stocked with food and resources. The lords of his line had always used them as a private sanctuary, concealing their wives and young children and their favoured attendants and retainers during times of war. Not the population of the city, no, it was far too small for that, and gods forbid Huffort had to share his air with them, let alone his stocks of meat and mead, but his loved ones would be safe. It seemed clear to Robbert Lukar that the man wanted to retreat there, bar the door, and pray that when he re-emerged at last, the war would be done and won.

It vexed him greatly. And he was not about to let the man abandon his oaths of duty.

“We’ll be sailing west,” Robbert Lukar said, to answer Huffort’s question. “Across the Three Bays, directly for the Vandarian Marshlands. The north needs us, my lord. I suggest you spend time polishing your armour and honing the edge of your blade. We will be in battle soon enough.”

The lord looked at him with a set of flat, impassive eyes. “You are not taking account of my counsel?”

“I have heard your counsel, and I appreciate your wisdom,” Robbert told him, with grace. “However, I have decided we must act more expediently. You yourself brought us this rumour that my brother Raynald may be marching to war. If this is so, we cannot abandon him. It is our duty to make haste to his side.” And my duty, Robbert thought, to take command of the men of Tukor, and lead them forth into battle, as king.

Huffort remained unmoved. “That was only a rumour. Most likely Prince Raynald is still in Ilithor. The quickest way to reach him would be by sailing up the Sibling Strait.”

Robbert Lukar was not going to listen to this. “I have heard your counsel,” he repeated. “But we will be sailing west, my lord, and to war. It is escalating too quickly for us to drag our feet. We must act. And now.”

Robbert saw the man’s upper lip twitch. He saw him close and open a fist. But Huffort only sketched another bow, and said, “As you say, my prince,” in a voice as stiff as a corpse. “I will see to honing my blade, then.” He turned abruptly and walked away.

Robbert watched him leave. “The gods cursed me when they put him in my lap,” he said, once the man was out of earshot. “It would have been better if he’d died with my uncle in Aram.”

“Or at sea,” Sir Lothar put in.

Robbert nodded. He did not like to wish such a foul fate upon a man, but Lewyn Huffort had proven a pebble in his shoe for too long, and had been very much his uncle’s creature. He turned back to the sea, putting the man from his mind. Vaguely now he could see the shape of a ship, taking a wide course around the coast, moving past the headland. Bloodhound snatched up his monocular and planted it to his eye. “Wild Raven,” he said. “I can see her figurehead on the prow.”

“How many men aboard?” Robbert asked.

“Some three hundred, when we put to sea,” Lothar answered. “Though they may have lost men during the storm.”

That was likely. Robbert well remembered how dozens had gone over the sides of Hammer, sucked off into the churning black waters. The very thought of it set his heart to racing. If I never step foot aboard another ship after this, it’ll be too bloody soon.

It took them another hour for Wild Raven to reach them, Captain Burton assessing the damage as the ship approached the stone harbour. She had lost her mainmast, the same as Hammer had, and most of her sails had been torn loose or so badly tattered they barely caught the wind. Without oars she had clearly struggled to make good headway. “How long will she take to repair?” Robbert asked.

“Depends if they’ve got damage to the hull,” Burton said. “Though doesn’t look like it, the way they’re sitting in the water. So might just be the sails that are the problem. We can sort those out quickly enough.”

It was favourable news. So too the tidings that they had lost only a handful of men during the storm. Robbert had that from the Emerald Guard Sir Colyn Rowley who’d been in command of the Swallow soldiers aboard. As soon as Wild Raven was tied up to a free pier Robbert stepped aboard for his inspection. The men were ragged, malnourished, and badly dehydrated, but alive. Robbert ordered for water to be brought aboard at once, as Sir Colyn spoke of their journey.

“Got blown miles off course by the storm,” the knight said. He had been a comely man before the voyage. Now his face was slim to the bone, his forehead and cheeks sun-scorched and blistered, and his hair had turned from brown to blond and started to thin and even fall out in places. But the relief in him was palpable. “Couldn’t even say where, Prince Robbert. Threaded through the northern islands of the Telleshis, we think. Saw shapes out in the gloom, sometimes, distant islands they must have been, but we were pushed right beyond them. Out to the ends of the world, we were. Never seen anywhere so silent and still.”

“We had the same experience on Hammer,” Robbert said. “For four days we were becalmed.”

“Was closer to twelve for us. A few of the men went mad and started seeing things in the water. Giant monsters, some said, circling below us. Another claimed to have seen all the way down to Daarl’s Domain. He started screaming, that one, in a way I’ve never heard. So loud his throat was shredded and blood started to come up through his teeth. He wasn’t the same after that. Even when we got him calmed, his eyes…they just stared out all day long, as he sat on the deck muttering and mumbling. Two others even jumped in and started swimming under. We managed to fish one out, but the other just kept going down and down until he drowned. We got his body when it came back up, but why he did it…” He shook his head. “Couldn’t fathom it. Must have gone sun-mad or something.”

Robbert shuddered to hear all that. “But you made it,” he said, gripping the knight’s arm. He had some two hundred and seventy men with him, he told Robbert, though some were ill from scurvy and others so badly dehydrated they had developed kidney failure and debilitating seizures. Many of the rest were in poor health, though would quickly be revived with better nourishment and hydration. “I hope to leave within two or three days, Sir Colyn. That ought to give your men some time to rest and recover. And to repair your ship.”

“I could use some help in that, my prince. We have little in the way of spare sails and we lost our mainmast, as you can see.”

“Blackthorn has a spare,” Robbert said. “I will send Sir Gregory over to you. My boatswain Buckley can help with your sails.”

“We would be much obliged.” Sir Colyn smiled wanly. “Have you sent out foraging parties?” He squinted up the cliffs, cast high above them. Beyond, the blue skies were beginning to curdle with cloud, dark and grey. It looked like rain to Robbert Lukar.

“We have sent men to Eagle’s Perch, though they found little in the way of food. Some casks of dried beef, a barrel of oats, not much to sustain us.” The fortress had not been revived since they had occupied it moons ago, and sat almost entirely deserted. Robbert had made certain that Lothar or Bernie accompany the men, to make sure there was no killing of innocent civilians, though he could not say what had happened before Hammer arrived. Huffort had claimed to have remained down here while he waited for other ships to appear, though Robbert had a suspicion that the lord had already sent men out to scour the city in an attempt to fill his own holds.

I might have to perform an inspection, he thought. He would not put it past Lewyn Huffort to have squirrelled away stocks of food for his own men. House Huffort had never been one for sharing; a miserable and miserly series of men had ruled from Rockfall for centuries, of which Lord Lewyn was just the latest.

“We will try to forage a little further afield in the coming days,” Robbert went on. “But I would not count on us finding much. Most likely we will have to make do with what we have until we reach Vandar.”

“Vandar, my lord?”

Robbert nodded and told him of his plans. Sir Colyn seemed in agreement with him, unlike certain others. “We’re dying a slow death, all of us,” the knight said, looking over the small, broken fleet. “Might as well die doing something useful.” The Emerald Guard looked south, squinting toward the headland. “We saw another pair of ships, I should say. Not three, four days ago. They were distant, and looked badly damaged, but seemed to be making their way here, if slowly. I caught some flashes of red and green, my lord. On the tattered sails.”

“Red and green?” Robbert repeated. Those were the colours of House Gullimer. “Might it have been Orchard, Sir Colyn?”

“I believe so, my lord, yes I do. She was sailing with another of Lord Gullimer’s vessels, and they looked to be tied together, that I saw. Though I could not say for certain. They were many leagues away, and we did not get a long look at them.” He rubbed at a scraggly flaxen beard. “I wonder if you might consider sending someone out to search for them, Prince Robbert. They may be in dire need of water and rations, as we were. I would go myself, if I could, but with the damage we have suffered…”

“You’ve done quite enough, Sir Colyn, and have earned your rest.” Robb looked across his little fleet. “I’ll send Landslide,” he decided. He was not going to let the apple lord die without an attempt to save him, and Lord Huffort’s flagship was best placed to brave the waters again, big and bulky and undamaged as it was. It would be nice to rid himself of Huffort for a day or two as well. The man is restless here. I’ll give him something to do.

Some rain was starting to fall, and the wind was picking up, a hot wind blowing from the ocean. Across the decks of every vessel, empty buckets and pails and barrels were brought out to catch the rainwater. The ragged men of Wild Raven were opening their mouths and looking skyward, sighing in sweet relief. Some were weeping, hugging one another. Sir Colyn smiled. “We haven’t felt a drop of rain for long days. It has come at just the right time.”

Not for Orchard, Robbert thought. If these winds continued to strengthen, the waves were sure to follow, and both beleaguered boats could yet be sunk. He told Sir Colyn to begin repairs right away, and that he would send both Buckley and Sir Gregory to help him, then paid a visit to Lord Huffort’s large, spacious cabin aboard Landslide. There, he gave a direct command to the lantern-jawed lord to unmoor on the morning tide and sail south down to the coast, to find Orchard and her companion ship and tow them both back if required.

Naturally, Lord Lewyn did not seem pleased with the charge. “We’re meant to be sailing north, not south,” he groused. “How far do you want me to go?”

“As far as is required,” Robbert said.

“And if another storm picks up? You’d risk me and my men to this folly? I have almost six hundred soldiers aboard.”

“Those can stay here,” Robbert told him. “Take only the captain and his crew. If Orchard is foundering, her men may need to come aboard. You can clear space overnight.”

“In this weather?” The rain was falling much harder already, and a grey fog was closing in. “Be reasonable, Robbert. At least let them sleep belowdecks tonight. By morning the rain will have cleared and they can move onto the beach then.”

“Fine,” Robbert said. “But I want you ready to sail by dawn, Lewyn. If Hammer was not still undergoing repairs, I would go myself. But alas that is not the case, so it must be you. Or would you prefer to see Lord Gullimer left out there to die? Along with hundreds of men?”