the reflecting bowl, and when Lara waved her hand over the vessel the water itself vanished from the bowl leaving it completely dry. Lara placed it back on its shelf and went to find her husband, so she might relate to him her mother’s plans for the Hetarian fleet.
Both Magnus Hauk and Corrado laughed heartily when Lara told them her mother would send several sea monsters to be clearly seen by the Hetarian ships.
“They are sure to wet themselves,” Corrado chuckled. “There won’t be a dry pair of breeches to be had and their ships will stink of piss.”
Within the hour as Ilona had promised, the Hetarian fleet found itself encased in a thick fog. The watchtowers along the Terahn coast reported that they could see a thick wall of gray sitting atop the horizon. Aboard the Hetarian ships there was consternation. There should be no fog upon the sea at this time of year, yet the mist was so thick they could not see a hand before their faces, let alone another vessel. Several ships hit one another over the next few hours. And then night came.
The sea surrounding them was flat. They could hear nothing but murmuring sounds of confusion coming from the ships around them. The sky was not visible at all, so there were no stars by which they might plot their course. And all about them an eerie silence prevailed. Fifteen ships had set sail, each carrying a full crew of five hundred Mercenaries, and eighty Crusader Knights. Once they reached Terah and sent back word, another fifteen ships would follow them. Over the next ten days three of the Hetarian ships escaped the fog only to find themselves back where they had started. Their inexperienced captains drew straws and two of the ships returned into the fog to seek the rest of the fleet while the third ship remained skirting the edges of the mist.
Aboard the fog-bound ships, panic began to ensue as the rations grew smaller and the water barrels began to empty. Reaching Terah was no longer an option for the Hetarians. Escaping the fog that encased them was. The air about them remained still and hot. There was not the faintest hint of a breeze and even breathing became difficult. Over the last few days the inhabitants of the ships had been badly frightened at various times by great sea dragons, some with blue and green scales, others with red and green scales, and all with long graceful necks and heads with small horns, rising from the sea around them to peer curiously down upon the vessels bobbing in the calm waters. Several of these monsters nibbled upon the ships’ masts. And one mercenary leaning over the side of his ship puking his supper suddenly found himself face-to-face with a beast who swallowed him whole and then regurgitated the man back onto the deck with a disgusted snort. Both the mercenary and the sailor who had been next to him died of their terror, to the consternation of those about them.
And then early one evening, lightning began to blaze in the foggy skies. Thunder rolled across the sea as it began to rise and roil. Darkness fell and the storm became ferocious. The Hetarian fleet was tossed upon the waters, up one side and down another. Enormous waves crashed over the ships. The men were unable to control their vessels, and one by one they sank beneath the waves, carrying all who had embarked with the fleet to their deaths.
The only ship to survive was the single one that had remained outside the fog. It had seen the lightning and heard the thunder within the thick gray mist, but the sea surrounding that one ship had remained calm. When the morning came, the sunrise splashing across the blue waters of the now peaceful Sagitta and tinting the gentle waves golden, the sailors upon the surviving vessel saw to their horror that the waters were strewn with the wreckage of the fourteen other ships and the bodies of all those who had sailed upon them. The wind in its favor, the remaining ship returned to its port in the harbor of the Coastal Kings to report what had happened.
WHEN KING ARCHERON, the emperor’s governor of the former Coastal Kingdom, now the Coastal Province, heard the tale told him by the captain of the surviving vessel, he smiled grimly. He had warned Gaius Prospero not to embark upon this ridiculous venture. Terah was no danger to Hetar and with Lara as wife to its ruler, it was certain to be protected by strong magic. Archeron grew angry.
“Eight thousand four hundred men lost to the sea, dead because of this ridiculous venture! Seven thousand mercenaries! Eleven hundred and twenty Crusader Knights, and two hundred and eighty incompetent men forced to sail ships they did not know how to sail!” the Coastal King raged.
“You must send a faerie post to the emperor,” one of his fellow kings said cautiously. “He must be advised not to allow the second half of the fleet to sail.”
“Will he listen?” another king asked nervously.
“Probably not,” Archeron answered, “but I will not give the order sending them to their certain deaths. We all know Terah is no danger to us. Now we also know that strong magic is protecting it from any attack by Hetar. That fog bank that arose and surrounded those ships was no natural occurrence. And the storm that destroyed the fleet? Who among us has ever faced a fierce storm at sea amid a thick fog? I will write to the emperor in the strongest terms that his attempt to conquer Terah must be abandoned.”
“If the women in The City learned of what has happened it might save the other half of the fleet,” the king named Balasi ventured softly. He was not known as a brave man, so they were all surprised to hear his suggestion. “They say this movement against the war is very strong and that the emperor hoped a quick and easy victory against Terah would silence it for good. But when word of this disaster is made known, who knows what the women will do, Brother Archeron?”
The other kings nodded in agreement.
“I would protect the remaining men of the fleet,” Archeron said. “Are the rest of you brave enough to support me in this matter? Or do I stand alone?”
“We will support you,” Balasi replied, and the other kings murmured, “Aye!”
“Can your son, Arcas, help us at all?” King Pelias asked Archeron.
“I will not ask him,” Archeron responded. “You all know I have disowned him. I have no son. And besides, I have it on the best authority that he spies for Lord Jonah, the emperor’s right hand. Given the opportunity, Arcas would betray us all once again as he has betrayed us in the past. Where is my secretary?”
A hovering servant hurried to fetch Archeron’s secretary. When the man had come, Archeron dictated a terse letter to Gaius Prospero informing him of the disaster visited upon the Hetarian fleet. He told the emperor in no uncertain terms that he would not give the order to the remaining fleet to embark to their own doom, for Terah was obviously protected by great magic. And all of the Coastal Kings were in agreement with him. If Gaius Prospero wanted to conquer Terah he would have to find another way. When the letter had been written and signed by all the Coastal Kings, it was dispatched by faerie post to The City.
Upon reading Archeron’s missive, Gaius Prospero flung the parchment from him, and began to rant. “He dares to say he and his fellow kings will not obey my orders? It is treason! Perhaps it is time I kicked his dignified ass from his throne and replaced him with Arcas. I did after all promise the weasel that he would serve me as governor of the province one day. At least I can control Arcas.”
“My good lord,” Jonah murmured, “I know how upset you must surely be by this betrayal of your governor, but Arcas is indeed a fool, as you have so often said. If you sent him to the Coastal Province the kings would not obey him and I am quite certain Archeron himself would cut his son’s throat. I regret to tell you that word of this disaster is already spreading throughout The City. We will have to do all we can to put down Lady Gillian and her women. This is a terrible loss for Hetar. This is not seven wagons of dead driven into The City. This is over eight thousand men, mostly Mercenaries and Crusader Knights. This is the cream of our defense and now it has been halved.”
“It is that damned faerie woman again!” the emperor snapped. “If I had known what troubles that exquisite girl I once sold was going to create for me, I would have taken my pleasure of her and seen her strangled afterwards!”
“Alas, my lord, hindsight is no real gift,” Jonah said dryly.
Gaius Prospero looked sharply at his good right hand, but Jonah’s face was its usual emotionless mask. The emperor wondered if Vilia took pleasures with her new husband. He somehow could not see Jonah sweaty with passion.
There was a soft knock upon the door and Jonah’s servant, Lionel, entered. “Forgive me, my lord emperor, my lord, for interrupting, but an urgent message has just been brought from Squire Darah of the Midlands.”
“What is it?” Gaius Prospero demanded to know.
Lionel beckoned to a shadowed figure in the door and a man entered into the chamber. “My lord, the messenger,” Lionel said.
“Well, what have you to say?” Gaius Prospero shouted impatiently.
“My master, Squire Darah, sends me to tell you that creatures he believes to be Wolfyn are streaming forth from the forest and laying waste to our Midlands. Fields are being fired, livestock slaughtered, women and children
