Borund turned to him. “You are to take command of the Lihvyen.”
Nikandr stared, the words of Borund’s proclamation still swirling in his mind. “For what purpose?”
Borund gripped the scroll so tightly it creased in the middle. “They’re attacking the spires, Nikandr. Last night, they destroyed the one on Ildova, and Mother fears they’ve done the same thing to the spire on Tolvodyen.”
Nikandr was numb. He could hear the creaking of the ropes as the bodies swung in the wind. The notion that Yrstanla was attacking the spires didn’t make sense, and he could only think to ask one simple question. “Why?”
“We don’t know. It’s sent a wave of storms through the islands of Vostroma and Nodhvyansk… We’ve never seen the like.” Borund stared deeply into Nikandr’s eyes. “If you want to protect the Grand Duchy, as you say you do, then go. Use the gifts the ancients have given you. What few ships we’ve held back in the North are gathering. More ships will be outfitted from the merchants, but you must go now. Take the Lihvyen. Stop them from taking Vostroma.”
Nikandr looked up to the men and women swinging from the ropes of the gallows. “We are not done with this, Borund.”
“We’re done for now,” he said as he turned his back on Nikandr and began walking away. “If you’re still of the mind, take it up with me on your return.” The sky was gray and the wind was blustery. A scout ship had been sent out in advance of the wing of ships Nikandr now flew with. He commanded the Lihvyen and seven other ships-all that could be cobbled together from the ships that hadn’t already been sent to defend Vostroma.
Nikandr stood at the Lihvyen’s helm, working the levers of the rudder while Jahalan and Anahid stood amidships summoning the wind and controlling the Lihvyen’s heft. Near the helm stood a wooden perch. Upon it, tethered with a leather cord, was a black rook. It had been silent for nearly a day. Over the last three days, Victania and Mother and Borund’s wife, Nataliya, had assumed the form of the rook and spoke to him of the latest news- such as it was. None of them had so far been able to penetrate the storm surrounding Vostroma, and when the ships had approached the nearest of Vostroma’s islands the rook had gone silent. No doubt the Matri were trying to penetrate the storm, but had so far been unable to do so.
Nikandr reached up and pulled his soulstone out. It had been resting against his skin, the way he preferred it, but he had taken it out every few hours to see if he could sense something-anything-from the Matri. While holding himself steady against the helm and gripping the stone in his right hand, he opened his mind to the darkness between worlds. He called to his mother, to Victania. He called to Atiana, hoping in vain that she would hear him, that she would know that he would come to find her when he could. But as it had been every other time since the rook had gone silent, he felt nothing. Nothing at all. It left him feeling cold, colder than the bitter winter wind could account for.
Elykstava, the first of the islands in the Vostroman archipelago, sat east of their position. They had bypassed it on their way south, reasoning that the forces of Yrstanla would not have come so far north. There was part of him that wanted to continue past Vostroma and on to Galahesh, but he’d heard no word of Atiana or Ishkyna or their father, the Grand Duke. Another part of him wanted to go to Galostina to find his father, but this would be a foolish course of action as well. Yrstanla was attacking here, and if they’d learned anything in the past few days, it was that their spires must be protected at all costs.
Something caught Nikandr’s attention near the horizon. He took his telescope and studied the western sky carefully. He soon found it-a small, six-masted cutter flying well beyond the safety of the ley lines. It was most likely a ship of the Grand Duchy, one that had fled the battle or been sent north to bring news. As he watched it became clear that the ship was adjusting course to meet them.
They allowed the ship to approach, and indeed, they saw men of Anuskaya standing at the gunwales, waving their arms, cheering. And no wonder, Nikandr thought. Their ship seemed barely held together. Massive holes from cannon shot marked the hull, and the sails had been hastily repaired-no doubt only in the last few days-from innumerable tears and holes. The masts were generally in good shape, though its two starward masts both had lengths of iron buckled along sizable cracks to prevent the upper lengths from snapping entirely.
“It’s good to see you,” Nikandr called across the distance to the kapitan, a man of Vostroma, as it turned out.
“Not as good as it is to see you,” he shouted back. He held a canister in one hand, a tube of wood they transferred to the Lihvyen with a length of cord.
Nikandr opened it and found a note contained within-news from Andreya Antonov. Ranos and Father had squared off against him during the Battle of Uyadensk, but Nikandr was glad to see him still alive, for he was a shrewd tactician. He wrote much the same news as they knew already-that the spires on Ildova and Tolvodyen had indeed been destroyed. He feared that the next to go would be Pradosht, for the forces of Yrstanla had landed and positioned themselves well. No doubt they would soon take the fort there and destroy the tower with gunpowder, either from the stores they’d brought or the stores in the very fort they sought to take.
He asked that the Duchies of Khalakovo and Mirkotsk and Rhavanki spare no effort to send all the ships available and to connect to the fleet that had formed around Kiravashya. They hoped to stop Yrstanla there before they could get to Palotza Galostina, and so they asked all ships to make haste there to receive orders from Andreya.
Nikandr read it again before rolling it up and putting it back in the tube. No doubt ships had been sent with similar messages eastward for Dhalingrad, Lhudansk, and Khazabyirsk, and southward for Nodhvyansk and Bolgravya.
“Have you more to deliver?” Nikandr called loudly to the other kapitan, holding up the tube.
“I do, My Lord Prince,” he shouted back.
“Then go. Bring news to Khalakovo and beyond.”
“I will, My Lord.”
The ship continued on, and Nikandr wondered about the wisdom of Andreya’s words. It made sense to band the ships together in defense of Vostroma’s largest island, her largest cities, and her seat of power, but Yrstanla didn’t seem interested in taking land. Their purpose was apparently only to destroy the spires, and if that were so, why would they take their forces into the teeth of the lion? Why wouldn’t they bypass Kiravashya altogether and take out as many spires as they could throughout the undefended islands?
In only hours, Nikandr and his wing of ships might reach Alotsk, but in doing so they would leave Elykstava defenseless. What if Yrstanla had targeted the furthest of Vostroma’s islands? Were he after the spires, that’s where he would go.
He looked to the southwest, toward Kiravashya, toward Galostina and his father.
I’m sorry, Father.
“Styophan,” he called.
“ Da, Kapitan.” Styophan-as he had on the Chaika — was the ship’s acting master.
“Send word. The four trailing ships will continue on and report to Kiravashya.”
“And the lead ships?”
“We head east to Elykstava,” Nikandr said. “If all goes well, we’ll return to Kiravashya shortly.”
Styophan paused, but only for a moment. “ Da, Kapitan.”
The Lihvyen turned and with the two trailing cutters-both of them small and ill-equipped but fast and maneuverable-headed east. Nikandr’s stomach churned as they sailed toward Elykstava and the small fort that stood upon her northern shores.
It took hours, but eventually they saw her, a hard black jewel among the ocean blue. As they came closer, he could see a small fishing village along the southern shore. He could see farmland on the higher plateaus.
And then the fort and her spire came into view.
Still standing, Nikandr thought, and not another ship in sight.
They’d come for nothing. They’d delayed their arrival to Kiravashya by as much as a day, all because he thought Yrstanla would send some token force here.
“Shall we turn back, My Lord Prince?” Styophan called.
“ Nyet,” Nikandr said. “Circle the island and let’s return.”
“You’re sure?” Styophan said softly.
“Call the orders, Styophan.”
“ Da, Kapitan.”
They continued around the northern side of the island. As they went, Nikandr felt his stone. It had felt dead
