A chill wind blew over the deck of the Marigold. It brought with it small droplets of water, which stung Rudiger’s face, and probably froze in the short strands of his newly growing beard. He scratched at it. It itched a lot, and he didn’t really like it much. He was growing it for two reasons—well, just one really; the second was only a bonus.

It annoyed the hell out of Lidda.

She had told him to shave several times, but it was one of the few things she didn’t really have any control over. He couldn’t kill her yet, so annoying her was the second best thing.

The bonus reason was it helped keep his face a little warmer. To be honest, he hadn’t noticed much of a difference yet, but the beard was barely more than stubble at this stage. According to Pad, once it had grown out, he’d find his face a lot warmer. All the men in the crew, even the captain, had beards, so there was something presumably to it, and Pad certainly had far more experience with being at sea than Rudiger.

It was an annoying bit of irony that just as spring was finally approaching, he had to end up on a ship that was sailing north where it was colder again. They’d be going south again soon, but still…

He had to admit, the mountains were a majestic sight. Tall and snow-capped, they were bright even in the moonlight. They had been visible to starboard for at least a week, but now, there were more visible slightly farther away to port as well. This was the closest he had ever been to Isyaria, and it was likely the closest he would ever be.

Okay, technically, Zorlo was part of Isyaria, but as it was still on the Arnorin continent, it didn’t really count. It existed merely as a courtesy, to help Arnorin sailors navigate the icy northern waters. The few Isyar who resided here—currently only four—didn’t live here permanently. They swapped out every few months. There were fewer than a dozen buildings in the settlement, and most of those were supply buildings. Amongst the others were an administrative building, lodgings for the Isyar, and a sort of combination tavern-inn meant for Arnorin visitors, but according to Pad, no human in their right mind would ever use.

So it wasn’t really Isyaria.

Which was a bit of a shame. A part of him wouldn’t have minded visiting Isyaria.

Behind Rudiger, several of the sailors on deck broke into a raunchy rendition of The Princess and the Squirrel. Amidst the rough singing and raucous laughter, someone called, “Rudiger! Get your ass over here!”

“Give me a minute!” he called back.

They probably couldn’t hear him, as there were more calls of, “Rudiger!” though maybe they weren’t willing to give him time.

He should join them soon. He didn’t get much time away from Lidda, and there were important discussions to be had. But he also valued a bit of time to himself. The more time he spent in Lidda’s vicinity, the more he missed Borisin and especially Zandrue. Breathing in the cool night air helped him relax and remember them in peace.

Pad walked up, slapped Rudiger on the back, and then leant against the railing beside Rudiger. “Brooding again?”

“I am not brooding,” Rudiger said.

Pad shrugged. “If you say so.” He gave Rudiger a light punch in the arm. Pad was not a big man, but he had impressive upper-body strength, so the punch still stung a little.

“I do say so.” Rudiger rubbed his arm while Pad laughed.

“So, if you’re not brooding, what are you doing?” Pad asked.

“Thinking.”

“In other words, brooding.”

Behind them, the sailors launched into another verse of the song, but now substituting every mention of “the Princess” with “Rudiger”. Rudiger sighed.

“If you want them to stop,” Pad said, “you’re going to have to join them.”

“I join every night. They know that.”

“Yeah, usually after I have to come drag you over, so why don’t we get that over with? Come join us in a few songs, and then we can make plans before your radiant wife comes to drag you away.”

“She’s not my wife.”

“Yeah, but we’re not supposed to know that, right?”

“True.”

Pad punched his arm again. “You coming?”

Rudiger nodded, taking one last look over the short quay and the blocky ice buildings. An Isyar stood at the door to the inn. Although he had seen all four of the Isyar earlier in the day when they’d first arrived, he hadn’t gotten a good enough look at them to recognise which one this one was. He certainly didn’t know any of their names.

Before he could turn to follow Pad, another figure approached the inn. Tall and lanky, there was no mistaking who it was.

Rudiger touched Pad’s arm. “Look.”

Pad turned around. “Look at what?”

“The inn.”

“What about it?”

Rudiger looked back. The Isyar and figure were gone—probably inside. “I just saw Lamaën at the inn.”

Pad laughed. “I suppose if anyone was to go there, it would be him.”

“He was meeting one of the Isyar.”

“So? At least it means he’s off the ship while we make our plans.”

“Suppose so.”

Pad put an arm on Rudiger’s back and guided him away from the railing.

“Do they really not allow music there?” Rudiger asked.

Pad nodded. “Not a single note. Can’t even tap out a rhythm on your chair or table without offending them. The food’s pretty bland, too. It’s all frozen.”

Rudiger received several slaps to the arms and legs as he and Pad joined the others. Someone yelled, “The Fevered Barmaid!” and the sailors launched into the song.

Rudiger sat on the deck beside Lenny, who was sitting on the weapons locker and using it as a drum. Pad sat on Rudiger’s other side.

“Better join in, Rudiger,” Marl, who was playing the accordion, said.

After a couple weeks of doing this, Rudiger still had no idea what most of the words of the songs were. He wasn’t sure anyone else knew the words either, as everyone seemed to just belt out whatever they felt like at the time. The words certainly seemed to change with every performance. The melodies were simple enough though, so Rudiger sang them with a generic “ah”, only occasionally throwing in some words when they were repeated in choruses.

The singing went on for a while longer. At one point, the second officer walked over and stood by them. For a moment, it looked like he might join in, but then he simply nodded to them with a tap to his cap, and walked on.

That was a relief. Rudiger had not had many interactions with Second Officer Melwin, but from what little he’d had, Melwin seemed the most reasonable of the officers on the Marigold, but it was unlikely he would support what they were planning. If he had chosen to join in with the crew right now, it would have been…very inconvenient to put it lightly.

They continued singing several minutes after Melwin had passed, making sure he was about as far away on deck as he could be where there was no chance of him overhearing what they had to say. Even so, Marl kept playing his accordion while Lenny continued to bang on the weapons locker and several of the others hummed along just to keep up appearances.

“We wait until we’re sure the Captain, Yollan, and the other passengers are asleep,” Pad said. “When we’re ready, Lenny lifts the weapons key from Melwin.”

“You sure you can do it?” Rudiger asked.

Lenny tapped out a rhythm around the lock on the weapons locker. “Child’s play. Trust me.”

“I trust you,” Rudiger said. “Just making sure.”

“Once we have the key,” Pad said, “we arm a few of us: myself, Marl, Jal, Dolen, and Ved. Not too many at first so we don’t draw attention. It’s hard to hide that you’re carrying a sword. Lenny will be ready to provide more weapons when the time is right.”

“What if Melwin notices his keys are missing before we’re ready?” Marl asked.

Lenny tapped out another rhythm. “Then I find where he dropped them on deck. I’ll get ’em back afterwards.”

“Me, Marl, and Jal will head to the hold,” Pad said. “Dolen and Ved, position yourselves outside the Captain’s and officers’ cabins.”

Rudiger looked at Pad. “Lamaën needs to be the first target. He’s the dangerous one. I wish I could be with you, but if I leave Lidda, it will arouse suspicions.”

Pad patted Rudiger’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. He’ll be dead before he knows what hit him. Once he’s down and we’ve dealt with Huuh, we’ll signal the rest of you. Dolen and Ved will move on the Captain and Olgan. Lenny will arm the rest of you. Remember, Lamaën and Huuh are the only ones we want dead. The officers and any crew not with us are to be taken captive. Avoid killing if at all possible.”

“That includes Lidda,” Rudiger added. “We need her alive for now.”

“Don’t worry, Rudiger,” Pad said. “We won’t harm your lovely wife.”

Rudiger rolled his eyes at him, and Pad broke into laughter, slapping Rudiger’s back.

The sailors sang some more after that, and told raunchy stories before heading to bed after a couple hours.

Lidda stirred as Rudiger tried to creep quietly into their cabin. He’d barely closed the door when she said, “You’re late tonight.”

“You said I could stay out later.” He grabbed his sleeping blankets from where they were hanging on the wall.

“I know, but I didn’t think it would be this late.”

“Do you even know what time it is?”

She sat up, wrapping her blankets over her shoulders and holding them there. “Of course not. You know it’s impossible to tell time in this cramped closet they call a room.”

Rudiger resisted the urge to tell her they called it a cabin, and tossed his blankets onto the floor. “Then how do you know how late I am?”

“You’re late because I say you’re late. What I say goes.” She grinned at him and chuckled. Great, she was in one of her “playful” moods.

Rudiger bent over his blankets to spread them out before she could tell him to sit beside her.

“Come sit with me a moment.”

Damn. She often did this, though not every night, so he’d hoped he’d be free of it tonight. Resisting the urge to sigh, he straightened up, went over, and sat beside her. At least, if everything went well tomorrow, this would be, at worst, the second-last time.

She leaned against his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. He was getting used to his now, so didn’t flinch. She loved it when he flinched, and got a sick pleasure out of making him squirm, so he always did his best not to give her that pleasure. “Is Lamaën back yet?”

“Didn’t know he was out.” There was no point telling her he’d seen Lamaën out. Best to play dumb to anything they were doing.

“He said he had a contact to meet.” She let go of one corner of her blanket, which dropped to reveal part of her bare chest. With her now free hand, she ran a finger along his leg. This time, he flinched, and she laughed. “I don’t suppose…?”

“No.”

She laughed some more, and sat up straight, pulling the loose end of the blanket over her shoulder again. “No, for the best.” She always said that when he rejected her. “I will eventually get you to sire an heir with someone though.”

“No, you won’t.”

Lidda laughed again. “We’ll see.”

“Yes, you will.”

She playfully slapped his arm. “Oh, you are such a joker.” Then she waved at him dismissively. “Now, I wish to sleep. Floor.”

Rudiger stood up and went back over to his blankets. When he looked back, she’d already lain back down and had her eyes closed. It would be so easy to grab Slay right now and run her through. He wanted to. But the dragon threat was too great. He had to be sure first.

And he’d figure that out once they’d killed Lamaën.

* * * * *

They set sail from Zorlo the next morning. Rudiger remained with Lidda in their cabin for most of the day. She didn’t like going up on deck, so generally avoided it, though she would usually emerge for a few minutes in the middle of the day if the weather wasn’t too “extreme”. However, her version of extreme and the crew’s were quite a bit different. She’d gotten quite angry early on when she’d come out to small amounts of wind, rain, or snow. Eventually, the crew learned her preferences a little better, though Rudiger suspected they learned earlier than they let on..

Today, she did come out and didn’t complain much. The breeze was light, and there was no rain or snow, but it was overcast (sunlight reflecting off snow was apparently too bright for her). Rudiger dutifully followed her out, and waited.

She went over to the side and looked out over the water towards the mountains. After a couple minutes, she turned around and leaned her back against the rail and spread her arms along the top. She smiled at Rudiger. “I must say, sometimes—just sometimes—sailing is not all bad.” When he didn’t respond, she said, “Oh, come now, Rudiger. We don’t have to be so antagonistic all the time.” She let go of the rail and approached him. “Don’t forget the role you’re supposed to be playing.”

He forced a smile. “I haven’t forgotten, dear.”

“Good.” She rose on tiptoes and put her arms around his neck. Then she kissed him lightly on the lips.

Lamaën approached them, and she stepped away from Rudiger.

“May I speak with you?” Lamaën said.

Lidda nodded, and Lamaën led her aside.

It wasn’t unusual for Lidda and Lamaën to speak, though they usually did it right in front of Rudiger. Off to the side was a little unusual.

Rudiger watched them carefully. It was technically his job after all, so they could hardly complain much. Unfortunately, there was too much noise from the surf to hear a single word they said. However, Lidda did look towards him a couple of times.

Huuh was standing near them, watching Rudiger back, but Rudiger ignored him.

After a couple minutes, Lidda returned to Rudiger’s side, the mischievous grin she’d had earlier now gone. “I wish to go below deck again.”

As they walked back to their cabin, Rudiger said, “Plotting?”

She glared at him. “What?”

“With Lamaën.”

She scowled. “None of your business.”

When they reached their cabin, she pulled off her scarves and threw them at Rudiger to put away. “No fraternising with the crew tonight. I want you where I can see you at all times.”

“As you wish.” Rudiger hung up the scarves, and then her cloak and other outdoor clothes that she threw at him. There was something not quite right. What had Lamaën told her?

Not that it mattered, he supposed. It was only a matter of hours before the plan went into motion. Hopefully, Lamaën wouldn’t be an issue after that.

As the hours passed, the ship began to rock a little more forcefully—not dangerously so, but enough to make Lidda green in the face.

Rudiger handed her a bucket as she doubled over in her bunk.

She took it with a grumble, then threw up in it. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “I fucking hate sailing.”

Rudiger hoped he was successfully hiding his grin.

There was a knock at the door shortly after that.

“What do you want?” Lidda yelled.

The door opened and Lamaën stepped in.

“Oh, it’s you.”

Lamaën closed the door and bowed to her. “Just me, as you say, your Majesty. I thought tonight, I might take you up on your offer to sleep in your cabin. I’m finding the hold tiring and Huuh to be an unsavoury companion.”

Lidda waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, of course. You can sleep on the floor beside Rudiger.” She coughed slightly. “Just be warned, I…” One hand went to her chest while her other reached for the bucket. “I’m a bit…” She wretched and threw up again.

“Ah, of course. The weather is getting a bit choppy. We might be headed towards a storm. Don’t worry about the seasickness. I’m sure I’ll barely notice.” Lamaën laid a blanket on the floor, taking up most of the space where Rudiger would usually lie. “I’m a deep sleeper.” He sat down on the blanket and looked up at Rudiger with a smile, stroking his moustache the whole time.

This was bad. Not just the storm, but Lamaën changing his location to the cabin. Was it possible Lamaën somehow knew their plans? It was probably best to delay the plans, but there was no way to speak to Pad or any of the others while Rudiger was cooped up here. Maybe the others would decide on their own to delay things.

Rudiger grabbed his own blankets and evaluated his position. The only space left to lie in put Lamaën between him and Slay.

Lamaën looked up at him. “I’m sorry. Am I taking up too much space?” He shifted over, dragging his blanket along with him. “That better?” He was closer to Slay now, and still between Rudiger and the sword.

“Yeah, better.” With a sigh, Rudiger dropped his blankets on the floor. It was still cramped, but on the plus side, he was closer to the door than Lamaën, and if he stretched out, he could easily kick Lamaën if he needed to.

Of course, Lamaën now proceeded to lie down with his head farthest from Rudiger. Oh well, it was what Rudiger would have done too.

“Are you going to lie down, Rudiger?” Lidda said. “I’d like to sleep. Or try to anyway.” She eyed the bucket still in her hands.

“Yeah, sorry.” He lay down, stretching out so his head was nearest the door, but not close enough that the door would hit him if it opened.

Lidda blew out the candle attached to the wall near her bunk, and plunged the cabin into darkness.

Rudiger lay there not letting himself fall asleep. It wasn’t difficult. The pitching and rolling of the ship combined with Lidda’s occasional retching would have made sleeping difficult. There were occasional muffled sounds from on deck as well, presumably the crew at work keeping the ship as stable as possible in the rough weather.

Pad would surely know not to enact the plan tonight, but Rudiger stayed awake anyway.

Time crawled, moments seeming like an eternity, never ending.

Rudiger tried to take occasional looks at Lamaën, but it was dark enough in here that, even after his eyes had adjusted, everything in the room was nothing more than vague shadows. Lamaën appeared to be lying still, but there was no way to tell if he was sleeping or awake.

The sounds from above got louder and more frequent. For a moment, there were the soft thuds of running feet outside the cabin door. More crew summoned to help on deck? That made sense.

Except the rough movements of the ship had mostly subsided, like the weather was calming. Even Lidda had stopped retching and appeared to be sleeping peacefully now.

There were more muffled yells. Cries. Shouts. A lot of them. Some of them tinged with panic. They didn’t sound like orders being passed on.

“That would be the sound of the Captain and officers rounding up your fellow mutineers,” Lamaën said.

Rudiger tried to jump to his feet, but something slammed into his chest, knocking him right back down again. The back of his head cracked painfully on the hard cabin floor.

A shape was now standing over him.

Rudiger raised his pounding head, squinting to make out who was standing over him. Lamaën? It had to be, but how had he moved so fast?

“Foolish, but not surprising.”

Another force slammed into Rudiger’s head, and even the vague shadows became pure black darkness.

* * * * *

He was standing in water, which sloshed over his toes and ankles. His back was pressed against something hard—a post or something similar—his hands tied behind it. It stank of must and mould, and it was cold too. He couldn’t see exactly what he was wearing, but it wasn’t much. Just thin fabric at most.

His eyes were open, but he couldn’t see anything. It was pitch black in here, although occasionally he thought he saw a shadow move. He might have dismissed those as imagination, the way one could sometime see hints of colour and light across their vision in the dark, but there was the sound of breathing too—soft, but present.

“Hello?” he said.

There was a groan off to his left. The voice was deep, but he couldn’t make out who it was. Pad maybe?

To his right, there was a creak and light illuminated the outline of a door. It was only candlelight, but against the darkness, it was blinding, and Rudiger had to blink several times until his eyes adjusted.

A figure stood in the now-open doorway, mostly obscured by shadows, but the tall, thin frame and the long moustache made it clear who it was. Behind Lamaën was the captain, holding the lamp, and behind him was at least one more person that Rudiger couldn’t make out.

“Good morning.” Lamaën gestured to the ground. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t come in.”

Rudiger grunted and spat at him. “Fuck you.”

“Now, now,” Lamaën said. “Given your situation, you might try to be courteous. This is not the most pleasant place to stay in, and here you’ll stay for the remainder of the journey if I deem it necessary.”

It was clear now he was in the ship’s bilges. There was little else in here but the pole he was tied to, a pump and the machinery it was attached to, and the layer of cold, rancid water. It would be an awful place to stay for the rest of the trip. He could get disease or worse.

But Pad was there too, sitting in the water, tied up in a corner, his head hanging low. No doubt Pad was going to be Rudiger’s motivation to do whatever Lamaën asked of him.

“Well?” Lamaën said, stroking his moustache.

“What do you want of me?”

Lamaën smiled. “That’s a start.”

“You want to know who our co-conspirators are, that it?”

Lamaën shook his head. “We have the leaders. Your punishments will cow the others. The captain needs a crew after all.”

“Who gave us away?”

Lamaën chuckled. “Perhaps I just know you too well. Besides, if someone did give you away, I’d hardly tell you, would I?”

It had been worth a try. Zandrue probably would have gotten it out of him. “So, what do you want of me then? To see me suffer?”

“Nothing so crude. I only want to know one thing: how are you communicating with the Will-Breaker?”

Rudiger gaped. What the hell?

“I asked you—”

“I heard you, and I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I’m not communicating with her. How the hell would I?”

“I’m not sure,” Lamaën said. “That’s what I’m trying to find out. She’s a telepath.”

“Yeah, and last I heard, she’s half a continent away. I don’t know much about telepathy, but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work at that distance. Why do you think I’m communicating with her? I assure you this mutiny was planned without her.”

“I don’t give a damn about your failed mutiny! I have it on good authority, the Will-Breaker is going to beat us to our destination. She may even already be there. How did she find out where we’re going?”

“Haven’t got a clue, but I can tell you one thing about Felitïa.” Rudiger stared at Lamaën, who tugged on his moustache.

“Well?” Lamaën said eventually.

“She’s smart. A damn sight smarter than you, I’d say. If anyone could figure out what you’re doing, I’d put money on her.”

Lamaën stared at him for several seconds, yanking on both ends of his moustache with one hand. Finally, he sighed. “I believe you.”

“Good, because it’s the truth.”

Lamaën turned to the captain. “You can take your man now.”

Two officers came through the door and sloshed through the water to Pad and lifted him up.

“What are you going to do with him?” Rudiger said.

“I told you, the Captain needs a compliant crew,” Lamaën said. “An example needs to be set.”

The officers dragged Pad across the room to the doors. As they passed Rudiger, he tried to lash out at them, but his bindings were too secure.

“No! I’ve been cooperating. I’ve answered your questions truthfully. I’ll keep cooperating!”

Lamaën stepped out of the way to let the officers past with Pad. When he came back into view, he said, “I never made any promises. You made assumptions.”

“You don’t need to kill him!”

“That’s up to the captain. Goodbye, Rudiger.” Lamaën turned.

The light was rapidly vanishing, as the captain, still carrying the lamp was already moving away.

“You just going to leave me?” Rudiger said.

Lamaën looked back momentarily. “For the time being. Lidda’s grown disturbingly obsessed with you. Some time apart will be good for her.” He walked away, and one of the other people—an officer or a crewmember, Rudiger couldn’t tell—closed the door, plunging the bilges into darkness again.

Rudiger stood there, straining to hear what Pad’s fate might be, but he was too deep in the ship. If the captain intended to execute Pad, it would be on deck in front of the crew. Rudiger would never hear it here.

Gods damn it!

He should have known plotting a mutiny would never work. All he’d succeeded in doing was getting good people killed. What an idiot.

At least the news about Felitïa was good. However she’d figured it out, she clearly had Lamaën worried, and anything that worried him was good. All Rudiger really needed to do now was wait until they arrived. Felitïa would presumably have others with her, maybe even Zandrue. They could work together to stop Lamaën and Lidda.

It was going to be a long wait though, especially if he had to spend it in the bilges.

Oh well. He could entertain himself by imagining all the creative ways he could kill Lamaën and Lidda.