“There are others,” she went on, in a whisper, still leaning forward across the table conspiratorially. “Sir Hockney, Sir Mordont. I have sensed some disillusionment in both of them. Sir Ryger as well. These men may have lost their way, but there is honour inside them still. We can give them a chance to regain it.”

Jovyn gave that a nod. “I spoke with Sir Ryger myself, my lady. He is from Green Harbour, the same as me. He even remembers my father, Lord Colborn. He spoke well of him, and recalls him fondly. We only need to make these men remember who they once were, and what they stood for.”

Amara smiled at the youth, liking that. “If we can get all five, then that should be enough. They need not bloody their blades, unless necessary…merely standing aside and not interfering may suffice, when all of you are armed. When the Blubber’s King’s chief protectors have been dealt with, the rest may throw down their arms.”

“And if they don’t?” asked Carly.

“Then we do what we must. But I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Amara Daecar wrapped her fingers around her wooden cup, lifting it to the centre of the table. The others did the same until five cups were raised. There was something thrilling about all this, she had to admit, a distraction from her grief that gave her focus and drive. Perhaps I’ll thank the Lord of Lard for that when I watch the blood gush from his neck? “We have our targets,” she said. “If others present themselves, that’s all the better. But be careful with who you speak to, and what you say. We’re to tiptoe into this, understand? Nothing reckless, nothing overt. Not until I say so.”

They nodded, all of them, and tapped their cups in a quiet toast. Then they drank to their plot, draining their mead. With that it was done. Amara stood from the bench. “Get some rest,” she told them. “I will see you all in the morning.”

She stepped outside, into the cool evening air, to walk the beach as she liked to do each night, pacing the shore and listening to the echoing sounds of the cavern, watching the moonlight shimmer off the water where it shone in through the mouth of the cave. The longboats would come and go at all hours too, and she liked to watch those as well. Sometimes they brought nets of fish, or the corpses of seals and sharks. At other times, they came bearing tidings, the fisherfolk whispering of the world beyond and the great darkness that was spreading. That was the sort of catch that interested Amara Daecar.

Neither Sir Talmer nor Brazen Ben Barrett eyed her with suspicion as she exited the cabin, suggesting to Amara that they hadn’t been listening. “Off on your wanderings, my lady?” the sellsword asked, with his bucktoothed grin. They knew her habits well enough by now.

“I like to wear myself out before sleeping,” she said. Amara did not stay with the others. Given her high station, she had been provided with a private cabin of her own - a small place, with a single bed and reading table - a little further down the beach. “Good night to you both.”

“And you, my lady,” said Sir Talmer, observing his courtesies with a bow.

Amara stepped away, sand crunching beneath her feet, a soft wind moving through her long hair. For a while she just walked, pacing slowly around the length of the island to where it merged into the rear cavern wall. The armoury was on this side, a natural cave in the rock blocked by rusted iron bars. She could see through those bars, see the chests and shelves and stacks of weapons piled and heaped inside. Two of the other Bladeborn were on guard, two she had spoken to only briefly, and didn’t much trust. Should I try? she wondered. She decided not to bother. We have our targets, she told herself. Let’s stick to them for now.

She turned the other way, moving back around the island, enjoying the soft slosh of the lapping water against the shore, the occasional splash of oars as longboats came sliding through into the cavern. She knew some of the sailors too, and their captains, though none so well as the man who had taken them to Varinar and back. I’ll get him to tell me his name one day, she thought. For now, she simply called him ‘Captain’.

After a few slow circuits, back and forth, she spotted the man in question drifting through into the cave, standing at the helm as the longship was rowed up toward the beach. She ambled over, watching as the oarsmen stepped out, taking their oars with them to be chained and stored. Some fishermen had gone with them, as was commonly the case, and had caught a large shark it looked.

The captain saw her standing nearby and stepped over. “Bull,” he said, gesturing, as the fishermen hauled the heavy carcass out onto the beach, to drag it off for butchering. “Nasty beast, but a tasty one. Their fins make for a fine soup, m’ lady. Have you had it before?”

“Bull shark soup? I can’t say I have.”

“Not even at the Great One’s table?”

“Not even there. He has many soups and stews, but thus far, no bull shark, so far as I know. I did not know you got them here? The bull shark lives in saltwater, does it not?”

“Both,” Captain informed her. “They can live in freshwater too, though we don’t often get ‘em here. Must have come in from the ocean. Through that underwater channel I told you about before.”

A channel to the ocean, Amara thought. Captain had said it went all the way south to the Red Sea, and north to the Shivering Expanse as well. Apparently all sorts of sea monsters used it to reach the lake. And those much worse than bull sharks too. “So, Captain. How is the lake this evening?”

“Rough,” the sailor told her. “The lake is often rough these days, m’lady.” The man was Rasalanian, Amara had known when first hearing that voice, and Seaborn too she had surmised from the way in which he ruled the waters. Lakeborn was perhaps more suitable for him now. He was another whom Amara sought to recruit to her cause, an asset they could use to help them get safely across. It wasn’t just rough waters and foul weather they might have to contend with. With all this talk of monsters beneath the waves, a man like Captain would be worth his weight in gold.

“I was told there was a ship bearing Taynar soldiers to the north,” Amara said. “Did you see it out there?”

He shook his head. “Heard about it, though. They reckon it might land somewhere out on the west of the island, m’lady. Has a broken mast, I hear.”

“And what will happen then?”

He pulled at his shovel-shaped beard. “Well, the Great One isn’t so fond o’ visitors, I’m sure you know. He’ll be keeping an eye on ‘em, I’ve got no doubt, making sure they don’t get up to any mischief. Not a good place to land out there, though, on the western side. All rocks and cliffs and tangled brush. My guess is these Taynar men’ll stop for the night, and set off again at dawn. Waters should be calmer then.”

“And what of this broken mast? Will they be able to sail?”

“Aye, should think so. It’s a galley, so they’ll just get on the oars instead. Happens often enough, boats stopping off at some cove or another, then leaving a day or so later. These men’ll be making for the Ironmoors, I’d think. Getting back to their families and such. None of ‘em’ll be wanting to stop out here long.”

Amara nodded, hoping all of that was true. She had little love for the lords of House Taynar - Dalton the Dour and his father Godrik the God-awful, who had cut her finger off and locked her in a cell and died by her hand for all that - but that did not mean she wished harm upon their men. “Do you imagine lots of soldiers are fleeing the city,” she asked the captain. Mostly, these ships she’d heard of had been bearing civilians. But soldiers? If Varinar was a smoking ruin, they would need such men to restore order. That they were fleeing as well did not speak well of the state of the city.

“Aye, such that I’ve heard. And not just by ship. There are reports of refugees fleeing by land as well. We had a scouting boat go out. Came back sayin’ the Lakeland Pass was choked with wagons and wains and whatnot, all trundling north around the coast. And west as well, I heard.”

West, Amara thought. Sir Connor had said that if Lillia had somehow survived the attack, Sir Daryl would have taken her west, out of the city, to the ancestral lands of House Daecar. There was a score of strongholds and castles that Lillia and Daryl might have fled to, and that at least gave her some hope. Thin hope, yes, but hope all the same. With so many survivors, who was to say Lillia wasn’t among them? She looked to the mouth of the cave, more desperate than ever to leave.

Captain must have sensed it. “He still not letting you go, then?”

She shook her head, not saying anything that might implicate her or her men. “He says no boats are to come and go.”

“Well that’s a lie. That scout ship went all the way to the shore to gather information, after all.” He gave his beard another scratch. “No, he’s got another intention for you, my lady.” There was some displeasure in the squat sailor’s eyes. “Wants to make you his concubine or some such, I would think. Not sure I like that, I’m going to be honest.”

No, nor I.

She hesitated, wondering, then seized upon her chance. “Will you help us?” she asked him. She glanced around, to make sure no one was listening, but the fishermen were busy hauling the bull shark down toward the butchering hut and the oarsmen had long since departed to stash their oars and head for the longhall, to smoke and drink and talk among themselves of tidings from far off lands. “I know you would not let us land in Varinar before, but…”

He reached out, gripping her wrist. “Careful, m’lady,” he said, under his breath. “These are dangerous things you’re saying.”

Necessary things. “We can’t stay here, Captain. You know who I am, who my brother is. He’ll find out where I am eventually, and when he does…”

“Aye.” He gave her a deep look, then released her wrist. His eyes moved left, right. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll help. But you’ll need to kill him first. Else none of us will get out alive.”

She looked at him. Is this a trap? Is he trapping me? She decided to come out and say it anyway. “We will kill him. You have my word.”

“Then you have mine. A boat. Oars. Men to pull them. Once he’s dead, we’ll go. Let me know when you plan to do it, and I’ll be ready.”

She nodded, wondering if it could be as easy as all that. “Thank you,” she said. “I…won’t forget this, Captain.”

“You thank me when we’re safely gone, m’lady.” He squinted across the island, in the direction of the armoury, though from here it could not be seen. “How do you plan to get your weapons back?”

“With help,” she told him. “There are….a few knights we hope will join us.”

“Which ones?”

She hesitated again, wondering.

The man laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to snitch. Been thinking of leaving this lake for a while now, in truth. Got a daughter, over in Rasalan. Estranged, but…well, with all that’s happening, I mightn’t get another chance to see her again. To apologise for the things I did.” His eyes softened, reminiscing. There was some pain in them, like an old wound, scarred over but still troublesome, the sort that ached and itched sometimes, always there, never fully healing. “Wasn’t much of a father to her, m’lady,” he went on. “Always going off on some adventure or another, absent during birthdays and such, missing her grow. One day I left for so long that by the time I came back, my wife had died. Some slow sickness got into her and she suffered sorely for a full year before she passed. I wasn’t there for any of it. And my daughter…she never forgave me.” He looked to the mouth of the cave. “I tried for a while to make amends, but she wouldn’t have it, wouldn’t talk to me. So I took the craven’s path and found my way out here. But now…with the world ending, and all, I wondered…I just wondered…”

Amara took his hand, squeezing tightly. “She’ll forgive you, Captain. I know she will.” If she’s still alive. There was no guarantee of that, as the old sailor must have known. He just wants a chance, Amara thought. A final chance to make peace before the end.

The captain fixed her gaze again. “These knights, then,” he said, clearing his throat. “You tell me who they are and mayhaps I can help you. I’ve been here long years, m’lady. Most o’ them I know well.”

She nodded, thinking, still searching the captain’s eyes for any hint of deception. If this was some show then the man was a master mummer, and either way, she’d already outed her intent anyway. But still, this isn’t the place, she thought. Someone might be watching them from afar, hidden from sight, and it would not serve to arouse their suspicions by talking like this for too long.

“Meet me later,” Amara said. “We’ll be able to speak then.”