Renegades: Broken Empire, #2

By E.A. Copen

An empire divided. A dark prophecy. The galaxy's fate rests in the hands of those willing to defy kings and gods alike.

Senjele stands on the precipice of civil war. Senator Clovis' plan to oust the dangerously authoritarian Emperor Rebos relies on getting enough support from the senate and lords of the empire before Rebos arrests him for treason.
To play his part, Timothy must win the support of his countrymen, and muster an army with limited funds. While Senjele sends emissaries of peace, he knows that the emperor's true motives are to find a reason—any reason—to execute him.
Halfway across the galaxy, Princess Shireen plots to unseat her deformed brother from the Erolyian throne. It would be easy if only she could win the support of the ancient order of Sandmen, the galaxy's most feared assassins. The Sandmen, however, have other ideas. They believe she's destined to defeat a terrifying new enemy, greater than any empire has ever faced before.
An enemy that has awakened somewhere in deep space and threatens to destroy all life in the galaxy.
Will these renegades rise to their true purpose or will civil war and political squabbling destroy them, and their worlds, first?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bolide Publishing Limited
• Release date: Sep 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781912996247

Book preview

Renegades

Book 2 of the Broken Empire Series

E.A. Copen

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RENEGADES

COPYRIGHT © 2020 by E.A. Copen

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Art: Felipe De Barros.

Design: Sarah Anderson

Editorial: Michelle Dunbar and and Black Cat Edits.

Published in the United Kingdom.

The author respects trademarks and copyrighted material mentioned in this book by introducing such registered items in italics or with proper capitalization.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, persons, places and incidents are all used fictitiously and are the imagination of the author. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or locales is coincidental and non-intentional unless otherwise specifically noted.

ISBN: 978-1-912996-24-7

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Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty -Two

Chapter Thirty -Three

Chapter Thirty -Four

Chapter Thirty -Five

Chapter Thirty -Six

Chapter Thirty -Seven

About the Author

Chapter One

Timothy

A hurricane blew in the day after Timothy’s arrival at Castle Valence. Rain fell in relentless torrents against the howling wind. Ancient pines bowed while weaker trees groaned and snapped, sending a spray of orange leaves and splintered wood over the walls. Even though it was after midday, the sky remained dark, except for a few flashes of gold lightning. The icy fingers of the sea tugged at the high stone walls of the castle, trying to tear their way in.

When the spray came high enough, long skirts of foam poured over the lower portions of the sea wall to dampen Timothy's walk along the walls. Little else could breach the ramparts of Castle Valence without his knowing, the stubborn Speardants and Deynes in the massive Iron Belly least of all. Their giant hoverboat skipped over the angry sea like a rock over calm water, leaving a twelve-foot wake behind it. The boat threw the green merman of the Deynes on the starboard side and the Speardants’s winged sea serpent port side. The Iron Belly pushed through the massive waves with relative ease, paying no mind to the roaring sea around it.

The kiss of a hurricane, my lord. The guardsman Timothy had brought with him had to shout over the roar of waves. He was one of Aliah’s Speardants, but Timothy didn’t like his tone any better than Aliah’s. They were as transparent as wet sand, the Speardants. A good one, looks like.

Timothy frowned and placed a hand over the wound in his side. The weather made it ache. Castle Valence would weather the hurricane, as it had a hundred before, but it meant the shuttle couldn’t fly and taking a transport out would be all but impossible. Sea travel had its own perils, despite the apparent ease of the Iron Belly. There would be no way to bring in supplies or to receive news from Senjele once the storm was upon them.

Wind ripped at Timothy’s cloak, threatening to tear it from his shoulders. The reports I read placed the storm leagues south of here.

"’It’s on us, my lord. With any luck, Redspear’s Iron Belly is loaded with more supplies than people. This could be a long engagement."

Damn those weather reports.

The ship found sand below. It would be a long climb in foul weather for the Speardants and Deynes, and they’d be sour and wet when they met him. Timothy drew his borrowed cloak closer, and they made for the center platform of the Lord’s Keep. He didn’t even have a change of clothes, nor did his lady, and certainly had nothing to keep out the dampness.

Then I hope they thought to bring a tailor. I can’t get warm in wet clothes. To hear Chaunstance tell it, she hasn’t been dry since she left Nebarius.

There are worse things than a wet lady.

A provoked lady, to be sure. If I don’t find some decent clothes and food to stock the kitchens, she’ll fling me into the sea.

The guard pulled open the wooden door to the castle, and they stepped inside, both dripping. Warm lighting edged out the darkness, but the low ceiling made the corridor feel cramped. It wasn’t much warmer inside, especially not soaked as they were.

Timothy looked forward to the fiery hearths of the Great Hall, less so to the company he would have to keep. The Deynes had appointed a man named Redspear as their leader and claimed he was the fiercest man alive. Considering the stories the Speardants told about Redspear, Timothy didn’t know whether he would have to threaten or embrace him. The people of the sea were a brutal group. Small wonder Timothy’s ancestors built this monstrosity of a castle to keep them at bay.

See to it that fires are lit in the other towers, Timothy said as he tried to wring the rain from his clothes. We’ll probably lose power in the next few hours, and I don’t want anyone freezing to death. And place a guard in the tunnel in Tower Seaward. I want to know if there’s flooding. I want every other free hand reinforcing the windows and bringing in any equipment that’s outside. Every door but the main door should be sealed.

Yes, Lord Val.

Timothy tried not to cringe every time someone called him that, but it was proving more difficult than he’d imagined. He realized he was scowling as they descended the stairs and tried to lighten his mood with a sigh and the thought that Chaunstance would be there with him. That should have been comforting, but it wasn’t. These people were a far cry from those who Clovis entertained. They valued honor and valor, so her bluntness might stir trouble. Still, he could dismiss her no more than he could these insistent throngs of banner men, eager to pledge loyalty to their new liege lord.

Chaunstance met them at the bottom of the stairs, the braids in her hair sagging from all the humidity. The night before, she’d slept in her clothes in his old chambers in the Lord’s Tower, while he took the master suite. Timothy had offered it to her, but she had preferred a smaller room without a view of the hungry sea. Even with her clothes a mess and her hair wilted, she was a welcome sight.

He extended his arm to her and wrapped it around her waist as they walked. It’s a hurricane, my lady, he said gently. There will be no safe transport until it blows through. These stubborn people have risked their lives to come here, despite my pleas for them to stay away. Worse, once the storm hits, we’re likely to be cut off from all communication.

How long will it last?

It will last until it is done. She disliked his answer. That much was obvious in the stiff way she turned her neck away from him. A week at most; three days perhaps. It depends on the fury of the sea and sky. It looks as though we’ll have guests though. The Speardants and Deynes have come.

The guardsman took his leave, and Timothy ushered her to the front of the hall, intending to seat her on the dais with him.

Her body pushed against his hand, hesitating. Why?

They feel they owe me oaths of fealty. He tugged at his collar. With six fires burning in the hall, it was hot. The heat was welcome, but it made the wet clothes even more uncomfortable. This title Clovis hung on me is starting to chafe.

If you don’t like all the pageantry, maybe you shouldn’t have accepted the job.

Clovis has ways of convincing you that you want to do something, even when you don’t. He rubbed his face. I’m sorry about the accommodation. When the Deynes get here, I’ll see about getting you some fresh clothes and whatever other comforts you need. I hadn’t expected the place to be so ... empty.

His eyes fell on the two chairs at the front of the main hall. He’d never seen them both filled. It had always been his father and an empty chair, or Torbin and an empty chair. No Lady Val had ruled Clevennia since his mother passed more than thirty years ago. If she hadn’t died, if he hadn’t been such a difficult child to birth, maybe their world would be a gentler place with happy memories.

Timothy? Are you all right?

He blinked. It’s just strange being here. I never thought it would be me. I never wanted it to be me.

We’re never ready for change when it comes, are we? Chaunstance wrapped her hand around his and smiled.

It had been raining on Senjele the night they had fled too. In the damp darkness, everything had ached. Old injuries from past battles, the still-healing wound the Sandman had given him. Every muscle and joint screamed its exhaustion with each movement. Yet all of that had disappeared when he’d put his jacket over Chaunstance’s shoulders and she pressed her lips against his. Was it on purpose? An accident? A token of gratitude, or something more? New warmth spread through him as he thought it over, and, suddenly, the six fires blazing in the main hall seemed too much.

Timothy cleared his throat. I wanted to ask you something, Chaunstance, before our visitors arrive. On Senjele, outside the senator’s villa ...

The smile on Chaunstance’s face faded, and she withdrew her hand. Don’t you have more important things to worry about?

Timothy blinked. I do? I mean, I do, but—

I think I’ll see if I can make myself more presentable for your guests.

He wanted to tell her to wait, that he wasn’t finished talking, but she gathered her dress, turned, and walked out of the room leaving Timothy slack-jawed, confused, and alone in the Great Hall. He sighed and let his shoulders slump forward. I don’t think I’ll ever understand her.

With nothing left to do but wait, Timothy positioned himself in front of the throne, but he couldn’t bring himself to sit. It was surreal, almost laughable, that he’d ever sit and rule over Clevennia. The possibility seemed so far removed that no one had wasted their time preparing him for the role he had now undertaken. That he should sit and rule now, when the empire stood at a crossroads, made him even more unsure.

He wasn’t fit to sit in that chair, not with all his non-traditional schooling and lack of experience. Every hour of leadership he had under his belt had been spent in a cockpit or behind a gun. This wasn’t war; it was politics, and he didn’t know how to play that game.

If I don’t know the rules of engagement, then I will have to choose the battlefield at least. He turned away from the chairs and put his back to them, choosing instead to stand in front of the thrones.

The sword he wore at his side suddenly felt heavier. It was a ceremonial weapon, and even though wearing a blade of some kind had been Clevennian tradition for centuries, Timothy hadn’t drawn it since he’d stood before the emperor to give his oath, nor had he let it travel out of arm’s reach. There was a murderer somewhere in Clevennia, and he, or she, would come to give an oath sometime in the next few days. It had to be someone close to Torbin. No one else would have had access, not if he had kept the tower guarded.

Chaunstance returned and sat next to him. She’d put her hair up and away from her face, giving her a sterner appearance. Timothy barely had time to consider her when the door to the hall crashed open. Lightning flashed, illuminating a huge hooded figure and several others standing in the doorway. Timothy tensed when he realized that part of the shape was the blade of a massive, double-headed axe.

You call this a welcome? said the large man at the front. He had to duck to come through the doorway, which placed him at over six and a half feet. Rain slid down a cloak of green and pooled on the stone floor at the man’s feet. In the hooded cloak, Timothy couldn’t make out many features, but he saw the trail of a long, red beard braided in an intricate pattern.

The man pulled back his hood to reveal it wasn’t a beard at all, but a long mustache. He held a burlap bag on his shoulder that he shifted as his sea-green eyes swept over the hall and settled on Timothy.

This place stinks of salt and fish, he declared and then took several steps forward to allow his men to enter. No wonder this bastard wanted in my boat so badly.

Timothy stood quickly as the man approached and threw the bloody bag at his feet. The carcass of a rock shark skittered out and stopped when it bumped against Timothy’s shoe. The shark’s head was on backward. Timothy frowned at the fish then raised his eyes to the man. You must be Redspear Deyne.

Redspear put a thick fist to his chest and gave a bow. That I am. I expect you’re the reason my bed wench has her trousers filled with sand. I can’t see why. Clearly, I’m the better looking of the two of us. He showed a mouthful of crooked teeth.

It took a long moment for Timothy to realize it was a smile and not a sneer. Redspear must have seen the realization on Timothy’s face because he belted out laughter and clutched his belly. The axe on his back shook with each laugh. The sight and sound of the large man guffawing and gasping made Timothy chuckle and then bust into a fit of laughter himself.

Aye, it’s been a long while since I’ve laughed like that, Redspear said after they’d recovered, and he swept a tear from his eye. You don’t recall me at all, do you, my lord?

Timothy thought back to his childhood. The names and faces were blurry and distant now, but he thought he had heard of Redspear Deyne. Then it clicked. It wasn’t Redspear he recalled, but a woman named Dawnspear. Dawnspear, likely a relation to this Redspear, had served as his nanny and tutor in his mother’s absence. She was a fat, red woman of distant relation on his mother’s side. Even when Timothy was young, Dawnspear had been an old woman. She must be ancient now.

Does Dawnspear still live?

Aye, she does. As I recall, she was your wet nurse after your late mother passed, and mine as well, since I’m her trueborn son. We’re milk brothers, you and I, which is almost like kin, though woman’s milk is not as thick as blood. Still, if I had to choose between a woman and an axe, I’ll take the axe every time. It’s less likely to dull with use. He roared with laughter, the black fox fur draped over his shoulder shaking.

A set of his men came forward as he stepped aside and scooped up the shark. Redspear spread his thick arms wide as they brought forward a thick, white pelt and unrolled it. I bring gifts! It was the pelt of a snowcat, complete with fangs and claws.

Redspear’s men rolled in twenty casks of mead and the big man promised a hundred more once the storm let up. They brought salted fish, live crabs swimming in a barrel of ale, eggs and seaweed, fish oil, and a thick block of whale blubber, and placed it all before Timothy for inspection before carrying them off to the stores.

Redspear himself waited patiently off to the side of the throne, narrating the tale of each gift. He claimed to have broken the shark’s neck himself and tugged the seaweed from a mermaid’s nest. Dawnspear, too, had the gift for telling tales, though hers were not quite as embellished as her son’s. If Redspear or his men doubted his stories, they gave no sign of it.

When the other gifts had come and gone, Redspear marched in three girls that stood straight and tall, all curly-haired and freckled copies of each other. They were years away from womanhood and likely only just now had seen the end of their tenth year. He presented them to Chaunstance, naming them each with a heavy set of hands on their shoulders. Coral. Kite. Minnow. My own daughters to serve your lady as she commands. They’re good at scrubbing, mopping, cooking, dressing ... and not strangers to the back of the hand for sharp tongues.

I ... Timothy started. What was he to say to Redspear? He might look weak if he openly stated he didn’t have a lady at his side. He had come with Chaunstance, but theirs was a fledgling relationship even Timothy didn’t understand. And she would refuse servants on the principal of having been a slave herself. I wouldn’t rob you of your only daughters, Redspear.

Redspear waved an uncaring hand. I have others. Sons, too. My wife won’t stop squirting the damned things out, it seems. Giving you these three makes fewer mouths for me to feed and more room at the hearth. The Lady Vals always need servants and attendants, the lords need men-at-arms, and I still have children aplenty. Speak, and I’ll gladly send you the ones my wife has managed to get off the breast and into the kitchen to make themselves useful.

If there was a Lady Val, perhaps—

I wouldn’t say that too loud, my lord, Redspear said after another chuckle. Every unwed lass in the land is fit to be bothered since they published your picture in the papers. If word gets out that you’re single, we’ll have to waste the rations beating them back.

And I thought you said you were the pretty one? Timothy smiled.

Redspear gave three, short barking laughs. Aye, but I’m taken, and if you think I’m fierce, you should meet my lady wife. If only I had daughters as old as my sons, you could marry one of them. We make fine girls, the Deynes. You know, your mother was one. A cousin of mine, I think. Distantly.

Thank you for leaving your daughters in my care, Redspear, Timothy said and finally sank into the throne. His side ached too much to remain standing. I will take care of them as if they were my own.

That I know. You’ve already returned me a son.

Timothy cast questioning eyes at Redspear. A son?

Redspear gave a high-pitched whistle. The activity of his men as they rolled goods off to the stores slowed but picked up again when Redspear singled out one of the young men and waved him over. Timothy didn’t recognize him, not until he came to stand at attention instead of bowing.

Former Second Lieutenant Hawk Deyne at your service, sir.

Timothy’s eyes widened as he recalled who he was. You were on Toria. At Olarin.

Yes, sir.

Former Second Lieutenant?

Hawk’s stiff shoulders relaxed, but he remained at attention. Yes, sir. I ... I was dishonorably discharged after what happened, sir.

But you avoided being charged with treason, and you survived the battle. I’m glad to know that. In the aftermath, I was told nothing.

Permission to speak freely, sir?

Timothy gestured for him to continue with his hand. No need to be so formal here. Neither of us holds military rank; not anymore.

Hawk lowered his eyes to the floor. Had I been given the choice, sir, I would have stood beside you. Hell, I would have taken the punishment for you. You were a damn fine C.O., and I was proud to have served with you, for however brief a period that was. If ever you need anything, please don’t hesitate to let me know. I’m your man.

Timothy couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t fair what had happened to the men under his command because of the decisions he’d made. He’d have to find a way to make it up to Hawk somehow.

For now, he stood, ignoring the pain in his side, and extended a hand to Hawk. I will.

Hawk smiled and took his hand in a firm grip.

All right, that’s enough hero worship. Redspear shooed his son away. So, I have heard you came here with a woman. If she’s not your lady, then who is she?

"She can speak for herself."

Timothy opened his mouth but snapped it shut when Chaunstance strode up. She’d found a change of clothes somewhere or borrowed them from one of the Speardant women. It was a little tight, but in all the right places. The steel blue suited her.

Need I belong to someone to be a person here, or can a woman not be free and in possession of her own self?

Redspear sputtered. You sound too much like my lady wife, he mumbled and then gave a warm grin. Aye, but of course. It was stupid of me to assume. You’re a free woman, but a woman of poor taste if you’ve taken up with this one. I hear he’s no end of trouble.

Chaunstance gave a genuine laugh. That’s truer than you know, but I’m no stranger to trouble.

This is Chaunstance. Timothy gestured to her. Chaunstance, Redspear Deyne, leader of the Deynes.

As close a leader as we’ll ever have anyway, Redspear said as he took her hand. He could have shaken both her hands at the same time in his and still dwarfed them.

Chaunstance is here to help me get things in order, Timothy announced. In my absence, you can defer information and questions to her. She’s to be extended every courtesy you would give me.

Redspear raised a bushy, red eyebrow, but said, Aye.

Redspear. He tried to sound as commanding as possible. The Deyne made his salute again. I would hear your oath before we feast. The Speardants too. The Speardants had slinked in as Redspear presented his gifts. They were half in number to the Deynes, and they were a small, dark-haired people, lithe where the Deynes were strong.

My lord, Redspear said dropping to one knee. His men followed, and the castle seemed to shake with their movement. It was the sound of waves thundering against stone. My axe is yours. My men are yours, my women, too, and the babes still at the breast if you ask it. The wealth of my land, the salt of my sweat, the blood in my veins is yours to command. You’ll find no truer men to your cause than the Deynes.

Timothy couldn’t help but think of his plan to help Annon usurp his brother’s throne. The loyalty of the Deynes did indeed run deep, but he wondered if even they would stand behind an act of treason.

Timothy nodded. And you’ll find a no more just and attentive lord than I. I hear your oath, Redspear Deyne, and return one of my own. Give me valor and I will return it tenfold where I may, honor and I will honor you, sacrifice and you will be remembered.

Redspear Deyne rose and stretched, complaining that kneeling didn’t agree with him, before hustling his daughters to the kitchens to start the meal. Aliah and a handful of Speardants came forward and gave their oaths, and he accepted them in the same way. When Aliah rose, he breathed a sigh of relief, glad that the worst of the night was over.

Timothy turned to Chaunstance, who had stood aside while he took their oaths, and extended her a hand. Sit with me.

She cast a wary glance over the room. Are you sure that’s the impression you’d like to send? Sitting before your new bannermen with a foreigner, a former slave?

I don’t see those things, and neither will they. I see a beautiful, strong woman, a woman I admire deeply. If you don’t join me, I swear on the sea I’ll stand the entire time.

She turned away and pretended to stare at the ceiling. Well, then you’ll look like an idiot, standing to eat.

A worthwhile price. Don’t make me beg.

She shot him a scolding glare, but there was a smile shining in her eyes. And what kind of message would that send? It won’t do. I suppose it’s my job to make sure you don’t ruin all the money and time Clovis has spent on you. If it keeps you from making a fool of yourself, I’ll sit with you.

Redspear’s men cleared the hall and dragged out long wooden tables and benches for the feast. A few Speardants struggled with the smaller, ornate table that served the lord and lady of the castle and placed it before Timothy and Chaunstance. Over the next few hours, people came and went from the hall, repositioning tables and chairs, hanging banners, and preparing for the feast.

At the feast, Aliah presented them with a silver platter bearing flounder in a lemon sauce and whole steamed crabs. Her men hauled in mussels for the banner men but presented both Timothy and Chaunstance with broiled clams that still held tiny pearls. Redspear himself served them the broiled shark on a bed of salted seaweed.

Chaunstance squirmed in her seat as one of Aliah’s serving girls refilled her cup. She leaned over to Timothy and whispered, It won’t always be like this, will it?

No, he returned in the same hushed tone. Redspear belted out a loud laugh. The man was already deep in his cups, telling a story about how he’d wrestled the shark himself. I’ve about had my fill of it as well. Unfortunately, we badly need the coin they can offer, almost as much as they need the benefits of being a sworn man can provide.

What benefits? They seem to have done well for themselves in your family’s absence.

He wanted to tell her their wellness was subjective, but he said nothing. These were not the feudal times, where one powerful family made war on another and a lord’s duty was to protect his people. Now, the role of a lord was to muster men for the emperor’s army and the coin to pay for it through taxation. He kept the peace in his holding, sending only the most serious of offenders to face justice in Nebarius. Lords and ladies influenced the senate vote, too, and sometimes offered council to the emperor, though those times were becoming rarer.

In return for their taxes and their men, the sworn people received an education for their children, doctors for their sick, and burials for their dead. There was a fund to care for widows and orphans, and a place of safety should an attack fall on them. Whatever they needed that was not in their means, a lord could provide.

Redspear lifted a portion of the shark and took a bite, letting the grease drip onto his mustache before wiping it away with one of the feathery cloaks draped over his shoulders. He rose with a flagon sloshing in his hand to address Timothy in a booming voice. Charge your glasses, friends, he said, approaching the dais. I offer a toast in Lord Val’s honor. To his good health. May the wind be ever at his back, and the sea beneath and not above him. May he live with honor, fight with valor, and go victorious into the afterlife. To Lord Val!

To Lord Val, boomed through the hall as people stood and raised their mugs.

Beside Timothy, Chaunstance raised her cup with a smile. To Lord Val.

The hall fell into a silence that felt awkward to Timothy as everyone took their drinks. He had expected Redspear to return to his seat, but he remained standing in front of the dais. Is there something else, Redspear? Timothy asked.

Aye, there is. My men and I agree on our oath. We agreed to share our men and our shark with you, but we have a disagreement that perhaps you can settle. He motioned to Chaunstance with the flagon. My cousin Drownedfish has eight silver coins on the table that says the lady at your side can’t swim. Hawk here says you’d never sit a woman at your side who couldn’t swim. Been a long time since I had the pleasure of seeing a lady honor that chair with her presence, and t’would be nice to make Drownedfish eat his words. So, I put the question to you. Is she a swimmer or no?

A small murmur went up from the table of Deynes, and a few of them snickered.

Timothy made for an answer, but Chaunstance squeezed his hand to silence him. I swim like a fish, she boasted and then casually took a drink. I would challenge you, Redspear, if I thought it would be a fair test. Unfortunately, a lady’s dress makes for poor swimming, and I think my lord would disapprove of my beating a swarthy man in the nude.

The hall fell silent, and Timothy wondered if she knew the insult she had just laid at Redspear’s feet. His hand slipped closer to the sword he wore at his hip.

Redspear, though, howled with laughter. This one has the storm spirit in her! Have you ever steered a ship in a storm, lass? Putting into port can be difficult around here.

Years living under Clovis’s roof must have made her quick to pick up on vulgar humor. A lesser woman may have mistaken Redspear’s jest for an insult or, worse, walked into the open invitation for dishonor. Chaunstance, though, smiled and answered, A lady does not kiss and tell, sir, just as any decent sailor knows the best port in a storm is the one at home.

Well said, lass. Redspear turned to Timothy. A good choice, Lord Val. He raised his glass higher with a wink. I approve.

Timothy shifted uncomfortably as Redspear found his seat. The volume returned to where it was before Redspear’s toast.

Chaunstance leaned closer and spoke so that only Timothy would hear. About the other night outside of Clovis’s villa?

Her hand moved under the table to rest above his knee. Timothy’s heart jumped in his throat, picking up pace.

If you’d like to revisit that, perhaps we can find some excuse to leave the hall and go upstairs.

Timothy’s head turned stiffly toward her. Chaunstance’s smile grew wider. She threw her head back and laughed. It warmed him in a way not even all the fires in the hall could.

The warmth touched his cheeks. My lady, I’d say your forwardness surprises me, but then you’re always surprising me, aren’t you?

Don’t think on it too hard. She smiled and lifted her cup to her lips. You’ll lose your opportunity.

Timothy sprang to his feet too fast. The movement reminded him of the wound in his side. It had healed mostly, and he only felt it when he did something jarring, like standing up too fast. When he stood, the whole room stood with him.

He raised his flagon high and said only a little awkwardly, And now for a toast of my own. To the good friendship and loyalty all of you bear me, for your food, your drink, and your company. Winds change, tides come and go. Only these remain at sea.

Redspear lifted his cup with the rest of the crowd and chanted the end of the familiar motto along with everyone else, everyone but Chaunstance. Valor, honor, victory.

Timothy drained his cup and placed it back on the table. A loud crack of thunder shook the hall, and the voice of the wind growled into their feast.

All eyes remained on him, and he tugged the bottom hem of his formal jacket down. "I offer you all rooms in the banner towers of Castle Valence and fire to warm you until the storm passes. Please, eat and drink your fill in my