Морган Райс

Hero, Traitor, Daughter


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were those of pursuers or not. Once, he pressed in behind the curved iron bulk of a windbreak, his swords finding his way into his hands, certain that those following from the inn had caught up.

      Instead, a team of slaves raced by, faces wrapped against the dust, carrying a palanquin from within which Thanos could hear a merchant urging them on.

      “Faster, you curs! Faster, or I’ll have you impaled. We need to get to the harbor before we miss the spoils.”

      Thanos watched them, tracking along behind the palanquin on the basis that those carrying it probably knew the way better than he did. He couldn’t track it too closely, because in a city like Port Leeward, everyone kept a watch for would-be robbers or killers, but even so, he managed to follow it along the length of several streets before it disappeared into the dust.

      Thanos stood there for a second or two, catching his breath, and as quickly as it had come, the dust storm lifted, giving him a view out over the harbor.

      What he saw there made Thanos stand and stare.

      He’d thought that there were plenty of ships in the harbor before. Now, it seemed that the water was full to brimming with them, until it appeared that Thanos could have walked to the horizon on their decks.

      Many of them were warships, but many more now were merchant craft or smaller vessels. With the main fleet already gone from Felldust, the harbor should have been empty, yet it seemed to Thanos that there wouldn’t be enough room for another boat there. It seemed that everyone in Felldust had come there, ready to take their piece of what was to be gained in the Empire.

      Thanos started to see the scale of it then, and what it meant. This wasn’t just an army invading, but a whole country. They’d seen an opportunity to take lands they’d long been denied, and they were going to acquire them by force now.

      Regardless of what it meant for those already there.

      “Who are you?” a soldier asked, coming up to him. “What fleet, what captain?”

      Thanos thought quickly. The truth would mean another fight, and now there wasn’t the welcoming veil of the dust in which to hide. He had no doubt that he was as coated with it as any of the natives, but if anyone should guess who he was, or even just that he was from the Empire, this would not end well.

      He briefly wondered what they did to spies in Felldust. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be pleasant.

      “Whose fleet are you with?” the man demanded again, this time in a harsh voice.

      “Fourth Stone Vexa’s,” Thanos shot back, making his voice equally harsh. He tried to inject the sense that he had no time for such interruptions. It wasn’t hard to do right then, when he had so little time to get back to help Ceres. “Please tell me it’s not true about her fleet leaving already.”

      The other man laughed in his face. “Looks like you’re out of luck there. What, you thought you could sit around, saying farewell to your crew’s favorite whore? You waste time, you waste your chance.”

      “Damn it!” Thanos said, trying to play his part. “They can’t all be gone. What about other ships?”

      That got another laugh. “You can ask if you want, but if you think there’s not a crew that’s full right now, you haven’t been paying attention. Pickings like this, everyone wants a place. Half of them can barely fight. Tell you what, though, maybe I could find a place for you on one of Old Forkbeard’s crews. The Third Stone is taking his time. I’d only ask half of any share you get.”

      “Maybe if I can’t find the lads I’m supposed to be with,” Thanos said. Every second he was there was a second in which he wasn’t sailing back toward Delos with the one crew there who wouldn’t try to kill him the moment they found out who he was.

      He saw the other man shrug. “You’ll not get a better offer this late.”

      “We’ll see,” Thanos said, and set off amongst the boats.

      From the outside, it must have looked as though he was looking for one of the rare boats from the fleet he’d claimed, although Thanos hoped that he didn’t find one. The last thing he wanted was to find himself pressed into service in Felldust’s navy.

      He’d do it, though, if he had to. If it meant getting back to Ceres, if it meant being able to help her, he’d risk it. He’d play the part of some Felldust warrior, eager to catch up. If it had been main fleet sitting there, he might even have made it his first choice, trying to get as close to the First Stone as possible in order to kill him.

      Now, though, if he drifted along with this second fleet, he wouldn’t get there until it was far too late. He certainly wouldn’t be able to help. So he walked the planks between the many ships, watching warriors carry on barrels of fresh water and crates of food. Thanos cut cracks in at least three casks, but no amount of petty sabotage would stop a fleet like this.

      He kept looking, instead. He saw men and women honing weapons and chaining oar slaves into place. He saw dust-covered priests intoning prayers for good luck, sacrificing animals in ways that made the dust into blood-colored mud. He saw two groups of soldiers under different banners arguing over which of them got to go along a wharf first.

      Thanos saw plenty that made him angry, and more that made him scared for Delos. There was only one thing he couldn’t find among the chaos of the docks, and it was the one thing that he’d come there to find. There were hundreds of boats there, of every shape, size, and design. There were boats filled to the brim with tough-looking warriors, and boats that looked like little more than glorified pleasure barges, there to take people to see the invasion as much as participate in it.

      What he couldn’t see was the boat that had brought him there. He needed to get back to Ceres, and right then, Thanos didn’t know how he was going to do it.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      Stephania ran through the castle, pushed on by the sound of the war horns, like a hart ahead of a hunting party. If she didn’t get out now, there would be no escaping. She’d done enough when it came to Ceres.

      “Let Felldust finish her off,” Stephania said.

      She retraced her steps through the castle, to the point where it connected with the tunnels beneath the city. She hoped that Elethe had kept her escape route open as Stephania had ordered. Now was a time to flee. If they were caught by the rebellion, that would be bad enough, but to be caught in the middle of a battle between it and Felldust’s Five Stones would be far worse.

      Except…

      Stephania paused, looking out of a window toward the harbor. She could see the sky dark with missiles, ships on fire as a dark ribbon of invading vessels made its way closer. Stephania ran over to a spot where she could look out over the walls, and she could see fires beyond, too.

      Whichever way she ran now, it seemed that there would be enemies. She couldn’t just slip out over the water, the way she’d come into Delos. She couldn’t risk slipping out into open countryside, because if it were her running the invasion, there would be raiding parties out to drive people back toward the city. She couldn’t risk wandering Delos openly, because the rebellion’s forces would try to snatch her.

      Yet, where were those soldiers? Stephania had passed a few guards on the way in, her disguise more than enough to let her slip by them. There hadn’t been many though. The castle had the feel of a ghost ship, abandoned in the face of more pressing matters. Looking out, Stephania could see rebels moving through the streets in bright armor and patchwork stuff. There would be a few figures close by, but how many, and where?

      The idea came to Stephania slowly, more as a possibility than a reality. Yet, the more she thought about it, the more it seemed like her best option. She wasn’t one to dive in without thinking. In the circles of nobility, that was a way to put yourself in someone else’s power, or find yourself cast out, or worse.

      There were times, though, when decisive action was the answer. When a prize was there to take, hanging back could lose it as surely as overeagerness.

      Stephania made her way down to Elethe, who was looking back and forth between