The Power of Four Queens: A Queen's Heart, #3

By David Waine

Three of the four free realms have fallen to the dread march of the Lord of Morgonnun and his invincible army. Only the Kingdom, led by Avalind, stands in his way, and her forces are hopelessly outmatched. Yet a faint hope lingers. Mussa has survived, albeit hunted by his men. Larussi and Song, aided by the thief, Tammas, have escaped the ruins of Kurial and found the boy's long-lost sister, Strella.

All is set for an epic showdown that will determine the fate of everyone for all time. Should the Lord win, he will devour the living hearts of all four queens and make himself immortal as well as invincible.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: David Waine
• Release date: Nov 13, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393647072

David Waine

David Waine was born in Newcastle upon Tyne, England, in 1949. He is the youngest of three brothers, all of whom went on to become teachers like their father. It was during his teaching career that he developed an interest in writing, initially plays, and his adaptation of Shakespeare's 'Macbeth' was performed at the Cockpit Theatre in London (the forerunner of Shakespeare's Globe) as part of the Globe Theatre restoration in 1991. He took up novel writing after leaving the profession, and his first published work, The Planning Officers appeared in 2011. He lives with his wife in the foothills of the Pennines. www.davidwaineauthor.com

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THE POWER OF FOUR QUEENS

Part Three of A Queen’s Heart

by

DAVID WAINE

Turnspit Dog Publishing

© David Waine 2013

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This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are fictional. Any resemblance to a real person, living or dead, place or event is entirely coincidental. No part of this narrative may be reproduced in any way without the written consent of the copyright holder. David Waine has asserted his moral rights. All rights reserved.

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www.davidwaineauthor.com

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First published 2013

This edition published 2022

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Dedication

To my wife, Helen and our sons, Michael and Paul

CONTENTS

THE POWER OF FOUR QUEENS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

LARUSSI

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

CHAPTER 1

TWO DARK FIGURES, astride equally dark mounts, and protected by a small escort, crested the final rise, pausing briefly to rest and take in the view.

The road, newly rebuilt up to this point, but a mere track, thereafter, fell away into the splendid hidden valley — green and lush by day, but shadowy and silent at night. A sheltered oasis among a jagged desert of splintered peaks and frozen wastes, it was bounded by a snow-draped scree at one end and a mighty cliff, from which a spindly, vaporous waterfall issued, at the other.

Between lay a miniature paradise, fragrant with flowers, shielded from the eternal blast by its encompassing rock walls, and kept fertile by innumerable springs from the glaciers above.

The younger rider pointed out a small light twinkling in the darkness. There it is, she told her companion.

The other twisted in her saddle, staring about, her voice tight with concern. Are you sure we cannot be seen?

The first shook her head. I cannot be sure of anything, but I have felt nothing untoward. If he is engrossed in his bowl, I think it most likely that he is tracking the coach.

Without another word, she spurred her horse and set off down the winding descent into the valley. Within three minutes, they were back under the trees and shielded again, insofar as they ever were. Occasionally a flicker from the light gleamed between the boughs as their horses picked their way along the narrow track.

Steward Gallen told me that your husband was once a brigand, mentioned the elder.

The younger nodded. Not through choice. He had been unjustly cast out by his lord. The greater injustice was meted out by my father. He sentenced him to death for attacking me.

He attacked you?

She shook her head. Not really — he was starving, and it had affected his wits — but he lowered his sword when he saw me. I think that was the moment when he fell in love with me. He was condemned for a crime he had not actually committed. I duped the guards and helped him to escape. The moment will live in my heart forever. That was when I fell in love with him. I pleaded his case before my father the following day. He commuted the sentence to a year’s banishment for intending to attack me, and he gave me six months’ internal exile in Nassinor for releasing a condemned prisoner without his consent. She laughed nostalgically. I always had the potential to be a very bad girl.

The other rider, Russica, looked ahead to the light again, now much closer. The potential to be a great monarch or a bloody tyrant resides within every ruler’s breast, she said. It is the decisions that we make that define us. Avalind smiled. Her great friend, King Kurian of Draal, had made the same point on the revelation of her powers. Potentially a very bad girl perhaps, went on Russica, smiling, but with a true and pure heart, and a natural sense of justice. This was his home?

Her companion nodded. He built the cabin as a place to lay his head while in exile. We both hid there after he rescued me from the war. For a few months, I was a simple peasant, sweeping the cabin and cooking meals — not to mention looking after Mussa’s baby.

You cared for Mussa’s baby?

The Draals were invading and my father sent me to Nassinor for my safety. Mussa was in the party with her newborn child. She was but a common serving girl at the time. We were saved from marauders by Cabral. Mussa knocked me out when I refused to leave my ladies and flee with him. She gave the infant into his care.

The elder took this in thoughtfully. And those same Draals are now your allies?

The other laughed openly. Kurian was only a prince then. He admits openly that his forefathers were barbarians. He has changed so much in his country since those dark days. Spurring her horse, she moved ahead slightly. When we left to restore my birthright, Cabral told me that I could have this place as my country retreat.

And you do?

She nodded. It has been extended and is a lot more comfortable now, but the original cabin still stands much as it did. It is very secluded, hard to find if you do not know where it is, and we take every precaution to ensure that very few do. You won’t find it on any map. We should be safer here than anywhere else in the three lands. For all that, we will maintain communication with all our commanders, so we can still lead the fight. The carrier pigeons know where it is, but they can’t talk.

Abruptly, they emerged from beneath the trees and trotted up to the front door. The original cabin, low and fashioned roughly from wood with a shingled roof, had been extended with simple, but elegant stone outbuildings, including a small barracks for the royal guards who were permanently stationed there. A soldier, dressed from head to toe in black, stepped forward to take their reins as his captain appeared from within to salute.

I trust your journey was safe, Your Majesties?

Safe in that we were not attacked or followed, smiled Avalind, dismounting and throwing the hood back from her head. Is everybody here now, Captain Krelman?

He nodded. Yes, ma’am. Your ladies-in-waiting arrived two hours since. They brought the prince and princess, as well as their mentor.

My little ones are well?

They are asleep in the nursery, ma’am. Mistress Grolt is watching over them.

Thanking him, Avalind ushered her guest, Queen Russica of Krimmin, through the door into Cabral’s original cabin, which still served as the complex’s principle reception room.

It was plain but clean and pleasant. Cabral’s crude stone fireplace still stood above its uneven stone hearth and the table was the very one on which Avalind had deposited her father’s severed head five years before. Although those features remained, and always would, as a reminder of that dark time, the other furnishings were softer and more recent. Following Avalind’s practice from childhood, flowers were to be found everywhere.

Each queen had a single lady-in-waiting to attend on her, both adopting deep curtseys as their liege ladies entered. The table had already been laid with a cold supper in anticipation of their arrival.

Messages? asked Avalind.

Krelman produced two scraps of parchment from his pack. Confirmation that Kurial has fallen, but the bulk of the populace has escaped. Apparently, they are choking the road to Brond, so the invaders have not yet attempted to advance inland, reported the captain. It seems that they are intent on securing the city, for they are removing guns from their ships and installing them on the landward walls. The other indicates that General Rulik is preparing to leave Graan to cover the retreat of Draal’s forces and civilians from Zinal. Admiral Hollin has already sailed on a mission to retake Kurial. He has an entire division of the Royal Order of Spies with him.

Avalind nodded grimly and thanked the officer, dismissing him with a smile. Make yourself at home, Russica, she smiled. No pomp or ceremony here. This place serves to remind me, among other things, that I did not always have royal privileges. With your leave, I will look upon my babies before I dine with you.

Leaving her fellow queen to make herself comfortable, she cracked open the nursery door and peered inside. The room was silent and dim, its only illumination being the small stub of a candle on the writing desk and the embers of the fire, now burning low. Two beds lay either side of the window. Small, still shapes were identifiable in each. Gently she tiptoed into the room and bent over the nearer. Her daughter, Princess Elina, lay there, sleeping as only a child can sleep, free from the cares that afflict the grown. Chamberlain Gledden had recently told her that she looked much the same when she was three years old, the only difference of any significance being in her hair. Whereas hers was vividly red, long and straight, Elina’s was a mass of golden curls that framed her face softly on its bolster and ruffled lightly with the whispered passage of her breath.

Avalind bent over and kissed her daughter lightly on the brow before turning her attention to her son and heir.

Prince Rhomic also lay in the bottomless sleep of the very young. Like his sister, he lay curled up in a tight ball, but, unlike her, his hair was straight and dark, like that of the august grandfather whose name he shared. Other than his hair, his looks favoured his father more than his mother, which was a good thing in her eyes. She also bent to kiss him on the brow.

Both are well, Your Majesty, came a soft voice from the corner.

Avalind turned to see the elderly matron, Mistress Grolt, attempting to rise and assume a dignified, but stiff, curtsey from her position by the writing desk. She crossed the room silently to prevent the old woman from dropping to her knees entirely and helped her back into her chair.

We are in the Retreat now, Mistress Grolt, she assured her gently. There is no formality here. Turning back to the motionless forms of her children, she thanked the matron for bringing them and watching over them.

Would that I could have brought them all, murmured the old lady, her fears for the children she had left behind all too visible in her eyes.

May the day soon dawn when we can reunite them with their little friends, answered the queen fervently. Queen Russica and I will take supper now. After that, remove yourself to bed. I will sit with them for an hour. One of our ladies can relieve me.

***

IN AN ISOLATED Dragotar valley, many leagues from Queen Avalind’s mountain retreat, a campfire crackled in a dense wood. Its maker had taken pains to ensure that the kindling was thoroughly dry so that it would only smoke lightly, before lighting it with a struck flint. It was shielded from external view by a labyrinth of tree trunks, topped by a dense canopy of foliage.

Strella had not spoken between informing them of the danger that lurked in the cottage and bringing them to her camp.

Immediately, she busied herself with a small cooking pot hung on a low branch over the fire, stirring it with her only spoon and sniffing the contents. Turning to Larussi, she indicated a little tent under the shade of a nearby tree. There are a few bowls in there if you look. Just by the sleeping roll.

Minutes later, they sat grouped around the fire, each dipping a small wooden bowl into the pot of rabbit stew that she had left simmering while tracking her prey.

First hot food we had in two days, remarked a grateful Song, smacking his lips. She had garnished the rabbit with herbs that she had found by the wayside, not to mention a few other vegetables that she had acquired on her travels. It indicated the sort of care in her cooking that Sar used to take, and he approved. Haven’t had nothing proper since we left Kurial.

Strella looked up at the big farmer curiously. Why leave there to come to a place like this?

Didn’t you hear the guns? asked Larussi softly.

Stella turned to her with an eyebrow raised. Didn’t hear nothing but thunder last night. It were far off. She shook her head uncomprehendingly. What are guns?

Weren’t no thunder, growled Song, dipping a handful of bread into his bowl again. Guns are weapons like you’ve never seen before.

Ain’t no Kurial left. It’s in ruins, Tammas informed her softly, his eyes suspiciously bright in the firelight. Been invaded. Don’t go back there. There’s nothing left, save piles of stone and blood.

Strella dropped her bowl from her mouth and stared at him wide-eyed. Invaded? Who by? Nobody ever attacks Kurial.

It’s attacked now, murmured the girl to her right. They are from Morgonnun.

Strella now turned her eyes on her. What’s Morgonnun?

Song shook his head sadly. Not what, where. Larussi and me are from Morgonnun. It lies across the sea. It was once part of a much bigger land, called Krimmin.

That would explain your accents, responded Strella thoughtfully. Didn’t think you were from around here. I thought Krimmin was just a fairy tale.

It’s a real place, murmured Larussi, shaking her head. The queen fled over here when the Lord invaded.

He has ships that can knock down walls from outside the harbour, explained Tammas. That’s what these guns do, and the noise they make is like thunder, only ten times louder. They’re on the ships. Kurial’s on fire now. The people are gone, fleeing to the Kingdom, but the army and navy are smashed.

Strella paused, chewing on a lump of rabbit. The colour had drained from her face. Kurial had been her home. For three years, she had dreamed of returning there, of settling down and restarting her life with the only family she had left: Tammas. I was going to go back and find you when I had done with the devils in that cottage. She lapsed into silence at the realisation that the life she had set her heart on had vanished.

Song regarded her closely over his bowl. The family resemblance with Tammas was obvious. Both had the same eyes and line of the jaw. Her hair was as fair as his, but she wore it in a single plait down her back instead of the tousled mop that crowned his head. She had the same easy smile — currently absent following the news of her home — but her build was a little heavier, even taking into account her additional three years. She looked robust and weather-beaten, an effect not at all diminished by her piratical garb. She was no taller than her younger brother, but he was gangly and still growing, whereas she had an athletic woman’s physique.

The silence was broken at last by Tammas.

Are they the ones that kidnapped you?

Strella nodded. Three of them. There were six to start with, but half are dead now. I had a hand in that, and I ain’t ashamed to tell of it. They’re the nearest thing I ever saw to the devil. One got himself took in Draal and the king had him strung up. Caught red-handed he was, just as he killed the man he was robbing. The others stood in the crowd to watch him die. They even laughed. I was there as well, but I made sure they didn’t see me. Hid behind a doorway. They didn’t lift a finger to save him and neither did I. One was killed in a tavern fight in Brond. Again, I stayed out of their sight, but it was me slipped the other fellow a knife so he could finish him. A third died in Yelkin. The others just left him when he fell sick with the fever. That’s how much they care about each other. By the time I got to him, he was nearly gone anyway — doctor reckoned he wouldn’t last an hour — but he managed to cough out where they had gone and begged me to take his revenge for him. He didn’t have long left, but I knifed him in the throat anyway to finish him off. I wasn’t going to let him off that easy after what he did to me. That set me on their trail again — a trail that led me here. They haven’t come out of that cottage in four days other than to wet the wall. But their vittles will run out sooner or later and they’ll have to show themselves.

You sure they’re there? asked Tammas. They could have moved on while you were sleeping.

She shook her head. No danger of that, she assured him. They’re still in there. I been keeping watch — and it’s just as well for you that I did, ain’t it?

You must really hate them, murmured Larussi, almost inaudibly.

Strella looked at her sharply. I have reason, she answered shortly before looking away again.

Do they know you are tracking them? asked Song.

She nodded. They know somebody is, but I’m sure they don’t know who.

You told us there are four of them in the cottage, he continued. They must have picked someone else up.

Strella nodded. About six weeks ago. He’s just as bad as them really, but he never did nothing to me, so I am not hunting him.

Doesn’t mean he won’t fight on their side when you attack, pointed out Tammas.

I know that, she responded.

That’s four to one, remarked her brother fiercely, and unnecessarily stating the obvious. He had only just been reunited with the sister he had long believed dead, and he could not face the thought of losing her again. You won’t stand a chance!

She saw the torment in his eyes and smiled softly, shaking her head and ruffling his hair fondly. I ain’t stupid, little Tammas. I know I can’t fight them like a man would. Don’t mean I can’t give ‘em what’s coming, though.

Would it be right? asked a dubious Song. You sure it wouldn’t just be revenge?

Strella paused. She looked at him frankly and recognised the expression in his eyes. She detected the inner agony that manifested itself there and knew instinctively that this huge, leather-clad man had suffered a grievous loss of his own: a loss that he had yet to come to terms with. Her own look softened immediately. You lost someone, didn’t you? she asked quietly.

The farmer did not answer. He could not hold her gaze. He knew from what Tammas had told him that she could not be more than sixteen years of age, yet this was no mere girl who confronted him. This was a woman in every sense of the word. His mouth moved, but no words emerged.

Larussi did it for him in a bare whisper. His wife. The Lord’s soldiers.

Strella’s eyes softened further, their firmness dissolving into compassion. And you mean to kill him in return?

The big farmer hung his head and nodded. If I can, he mumbled. Justice for Sar…

And vengeance for you, she completed the sentence for him. We’re not so very different, Song.

We are, the big man responded quietly, but coldly. You murdered that man in Yelkin.

Like he murdered so many others! Like they all did! I watched them laugh as they did it. Her eyes blazed anew. They know how to kill slowly, piling on the agony, bit by bit, and dragging it out. Enough to tear ‘em apart, but not enough to kill them until the very end. They enjoy it. They gave me the bodies to get rid of. I must have buried fifty, some of them in pieces. There’s more than one way of killing. She went suddenly very quiet, and her next sentence came out in a heartfelt whisper, almost against her volition. There’s ways of murdering a girl that don’t involve killing her. Don’t tell me you didn’t know that.

She stood abruptly and turned her back on them. All three of them knew instinctively that she had done it to hide her tears, for they could hear her gasp as she fought them back.

The silence grew. The campfire dwindled, crackling in the darkness. Larussi rose and placed her arms around the older girl’s shoulders. Strella did not resist.

Tammas also rose to comfort his sister, but Song’s hand stayed him. You’ll have your turn, he whispered.

Leaving the boy by the fire, he passed round it to the two girls. Motioning Larussi to return to Tammas, he led Strella gently a little further off under the shadow of a tree where they could speak without being overheard.

I hear what you're saying, he murmured gently, glancing back at the two younger ones. I don’t think Tammas has realised it yet, but Larussi has. She’s a sharp one and she notices everything. Strella nodded, biting her lip to fight back the tears. I ain’t such a clod as I can’t imagine what you went through. Was there a child? he asked softly.

Her gleaming eyes flicked up to his face and then dropped again. She crushed her fist to her lips. Born dead… she managed to whimper.

He took her in his arms and held her as a father would hold his distraught daughter. I won’t say nothing, he assured her gently. Is the father in the cottage?

He noticed her shudder as she shook her head. Don’t know, she croaked through her tears. I don’t know which one it was. They took turns…

Suddenly all reserve was gone, and she was sobbing openly on his breast. When my time came, they left me to deliver him myself with one leg tied to the wheel of their wagon. Her voice rose to a tremulous squeak as the agony of the memory overwhelmed her. I dunno how I did it, but I survived. They took him straight off me and threw him in the river. My little boy. He were dead already. He never lived to take a breath…

Larussi and Tammas were there as well, hugging her. No more words were exchanged.

Minutes went by before she managed to control herself. They all returned silently to the campfire.

I’m not a murderer, she said quietly. Call me an executioner if you like. I’ll do no more to them than you will to this lord. She heaved a sigh. But I ain’t taking them on all at once. Tammas is right. I wouldn’t stand a chance.

How can we help? asked Larussi in a small voice that punctuated the silence that followed.

Strella hung her head and took a long, slow breath to bring herself back under control. It ain’t your fight, she said at last.

It is, put in Tammas with an equally fierce glint in his eyes. You’re my sister. Anybody who hurts you hurts me.

All right, announced Song, raising his hands, We understand each other now, so we'll help you any way we can.

Tammas treated his sister to a lengthy appraising look. She seemed strong enough, but his practised eye told him that she had suffered real hardship and had yet to recover completely. When did you get away from them?

A shadow of remorse passed through her eyes as they flicked up to meet his. When they took me, they burned the house down. I didn’t see you get out. I thought you’d died in the fire, she confessed. By the time they sold me on, I’d been away for more than a year. I reckoned that if you were still alive after all that time, somebody must have taken you in or you’d learned how to look after yourself.

He became a pickpocket, put in Larussi. He lives — lived — in an empty house near the docks.

Didn’t want for nothing. I can look after myself, put in Tammas without shame.

A brief smile crossed his sister’s face. So, you can, she conceded. I swiped a thing or two, myself, after I got free. After that, I worked for everything I got, and — as you see — I didn't do too badly neither.

Song grunted and shuffled forward slightly further into the firelight. Staring at her gently, he asked, Will you tell us your story? Recollecting himself with a swift sidelong glance at Tammas, he modified his question. As much as you can?

She blinked a couple of times, also glancing at her brother, and bit her lip indecisively. Most of the time they had me I was bound and gagged. They carried me off in a sack and I didn’t know where I was when they let me out. Been everywhere since then. I been places where they didn’t speak our tongue. They pulled me along behind one of their horses when we were on the move. If I tripped, they just dragged me till I could haul myself back to my feet again. I had to sleep beneath their wagon at night, tied to the wheel. They fed me on scraps. I tried to escape, again and again, I tried, but they always caught me and beat me.

Why did they take you? asked Larussi in a high-pitched whisper, her bowl poised below her bottom lip.

Strella looked from Song to Tammas to her and smiled openly for the first time since they had met. She liked the younger girl instinctively. She could sense the bond that had formed between her brother and her, and she approved. They’re brigands, she answered. "They take whatever they want, and they ain’t particular about how they get it. They like hurting. They needed someone to wash their linen and cook their vittles because even they got fed up with being lousy and eating raw tack every day. They took everything they could from me. Because of them, I lost my brother. They beat me and used me until I nearly lost myself. Then they grew bored with me and sold me to slavers.

‘They weren’t so cruel as the brigands. They didn’t beat me or starve me. They let my bruises and the rope burns heal, but it weren’t out of kindness. It was so they could get a higher price for me. They sold me on after a couple of months. It was my new owner I escaped from. The prettier girls were put straight into his bed, but I was so thin and weak that I weren’t nowhere near pretty. I worked in the kitchens. The slaves there were kind and they fed me proper. That put the weight back on.

‘Then he noticed me. He sent for me to come to him one night. One of the young men slaves had taken a shine to me. Said he would help me get out. Her eyes filled with tears as she recalled the hated memory. He did as well. I got away, but the guards got him. Shot him like a dog. Arrow in his back. He saved my life that night, but it cost him his own. A single pendulous tear quivered on her lower eyelid. I vowed to find the devils who began all this and serve them for what they did. I been following for them for nearly two years, picking them off, one by one, and now I’ve got them."

A silence fell on the little group around the campfire. The stew was finished and Larussi automatically gathered the bowls and took them to a nearby stream for washing.

How will you do it? asked Song at last.

A steely glint had stolen into her eyes. Rummaging in a pack at her side, she withdrew a bow and quiver of arrows. I stole these from a market soon after I escaped, she explained. Been practising ever since, watching trained archers shoot at tournaments and noticing how they hold the bow and the string, how they stand and take aim. I been training too. Strengthening my arm and my grip, lifting heavy stones. I learned about wind strength and direction, how the arrow flies and such. I had to teach myself, shooting fruit off trees to start with, but I’m a dead shot now. How do you think I got that rabbit you’ve been eating?

Shooting a rabbit’s one thing, replied Song dubiously, but shooting a man…

Will be easier! she snapped back. More to aim at.

The ruthlessness of her tone rocked them all back.

Are you going to shoot them in the back? asked Song.

She shook her head. Like I said, I’m not a murderer. The cottage has a blank wall with no door or window. That’s where they come out to relieve themselves. I’ll wait until I can catch one there. It’s only his body I want to kill. He’ll have his chance to save his soul — that’s if he still has one. The other two, I’ll serve the same. The new one can move on if he wants.

A further silence fell on the group. All heads were bowed. Song spoke at last. That’s not much of a plan. He spoke in a muttered monotone. You might get one that way, but the other three would get you.

You got a better? Her eyes were blazing again, boring into his.

He nodded, picking up his crossbow. I’m a dead shot with this. Had plenty of bears to practice on back home. I also killed a couple of soldiers while we were escaping. I’ll cover you. The fury died slowly in her eyes. Song finished the conversation with, Just be careful. It’s easy to kill an enemy — especially if he wants to kill you. Just remember who your enemies are, though.

***

FIRES WERE DYING down all over Kurial. Silsik’s troops had secured the city without encountering significant resistance. They went from house to house, rooting out survivors to add to the litter of bodies already clogging the streets.

Unless they were young, female and pretty, that was. No immediate death for them. Their fate would be a period of enforced prostitution — minus the remuneration — until he grew tired of their flesh and obliterated them.

In fairness, many of the invading troops were innocent of such atrocities and even tried to hide girls from Silsik and his acolytes. Most of the Lord’s officers had been chosen, not for their military capabilities, but for their ruthlessness and cruelty.

Of these, the worst was Silsik’s second in command: an overweight brute of a man, called Dilnass.

He had personally raped two girls within seventeen minutes of landing, slitting the throat of the first afterwards, and beating the other insensible before tipping her into the harbour to drown.

He was at least half as heavy again as he should have been, greasy, and had a complexion that appeared to sport more pustules than skin. Worst of all was his distorted lip, which curled upwards into a permanent leer. It had been caused by a knife slash in a tavern brawl years before. The skin had contracted around the scar, dragging the lip upwards and exposing the rotten teeth beneath. Such was his nature, that he even approved the alteration, reasoning that it made him appear even more fearsome.

His ship knew more floggings than the rest of the fleet put together, and he had hanged five crew members from the yardarm during the voyage from Krimmin for his own amusement. Dilnass carried out his sentences himself, invariably slowly and without skill. The crewmen forced to watch were aware of the bulge in his breeches as he did it.

***

THE PREDAWN HAD barely glimmered on the eastern horizon as a column of troops issued through Graan’s main gate and tramped off