…he could picture the noble Micah perfectly as he called on their aid, could recall his righteous fury as he demanded support of Queen Amina, as he swayed the young King Nguyen to his side.
Lukys found himself turning in search of Sophia. Finding her alone at the railings, he wondered if she too had found that memory. How must it feel, to recall making a decision that had condemned so many of her people to death?
Even for himself, that memory was a knife twisting in his gut. The Sovereigns before them had been so cold, so calculating in their decisions, the product of a hundred lifetimes placed into the minds of children. Their predecessors had never had a chance to live their own lives, to develop a consciousness beyond that which they inherited.
Struggling with those memories, Lukys wondered whether he too would succumb to the tide, if one day he and Sophia become as those Sovereigns before them, removed from the lives of mere mortals, incapable of measuring the value of a single life.
Would Lukys one day come to understand the logic of sending untrained recruits to die for the simple crime of failing an examination?
The thought made him shiver, but shaking off such dark contemplations, he crossed to where Travis stood at the tiller. His friend wore a broad grin as he directed the ship towards the safety of the harbour, though he offered a quick salute at Lukys’s approach.
“My Sovereign,” the man said in an overly dramatic fashion. “A million thanks for this ship you have provided. Much better than the last one.”
Lukys snorted. “You mean the holey fishing boat you sailed across half an ocean?”
“I remember her fondly,” Travis remarked, “a shame this journey is so short. I would have liked to see how this beauty did against a storm.”
Lukys shuddered at the memory his words conjured. These he had lived himself. “Let’s just give thanks for the sunny skies,” he replied with feeling.
Silence fell as they turned their eyes to the city. Two smaller vessels had detached themselves from the docks to escort them in, and Lukys couldn’t help but feel his tension growing.
“I’ll leave you and Isabella onboard with a skeleton crew,” he said. “If we don’t return…”
“Don’t be so grim, Lukys,” Travis said with a laugh. “It’s a few bureaucrats and those in their army who were too old or green to march south. After facing Tasha and her rebellion, the pair of you should have no problem with this lot.”
Lukys sighed. He wished he could feel Travis’s confidence, that everything would work out as they intended. But whatever his jovial friend said, things had a habit of spiralling out of control when it came to Lukys’s plans. Ever since he’d first picked up a spear and lead them in defence of Fogmore’s walls all those months ago, nothing had gone as he’d intended.
But he would press on regardless. There was no other choice.
As the Flumeeren vessels pulled up on either side of their flag ship, Lukys was relieved to see only a few soldiers aboard. He hoped that meant the Flumeerens remained unaware of their alliance with Nguyen. Even so, he watched the gates of the city as they approached, seeking signs of some trap.
But as they drifted into the port, no soldiers came rushing from the gates to attack them, nor arrows from the sky to strike them down, and Lukys finally let out a breath and moved to join Sophia at the bow. She wore a cloak with the hood pulled up, a veil drawn across her face. He quickly lowered his own to complete their illusion. The mystique of the Sovereigns was well known across the human kingdoms, and he prayed the Flumeerens would not question the concealment of their faces. One glimpse of Sophia’s grey eyes, and all his careful planning would fall apart.
“Peace, My Lady,” Lukys said softly, reaching out to take Sophia’s hand. “I promise you. Now, let’s go trick some Flumeerens.”
They were met on the docks by two dignitaries and their guards. Lukys had rarely seen such an odd assortment of nobles, although his experience with their kind was rather limited. An overly large man in a bright orange robe led the way, his face damp with sweat, as though their arrival had forced him to run through half the city to reach the docks in time. Behind him followed an elderly man with more wrinkles than even the most ancient of Lukys’s history professors back in his academy. Supported by a cane, the man arrived a few steps behind the big man.
The two fell into a steep bow as Lukys and Sophia descended the ramp from their ship, and Lukys was struck by the difference a few weeks made. It seemed like only yesterday that their arrival on the shores of Perfugia had been met with armed soldiers and threats of violence.
Then again, if the Flumeerens realised that a party of Tangata stood amongst them, it might yet come to violence. Afterall, this kingdom had been at the forefront of the war with Sophia’s people for ten long years.
“Exalted Sovereigns!” the large man wheezed, clearly still trying to catch his breath. “Please, I am Wallace, steward of the royal citadel. I must apologise for my queen’s absence, but she is occupied by grave matters in the south. I welcome you to Mildeth in her absence.”
“It is an honour as to witness your arrival on our humble shores, your dignities,” the elderly man added, his voice soft. “I am called Zayaan, chief advisor to the queen. As the good steward says, your visit is welcome—if unexpected. I fear you have come to Flumeer at a time of ill fortune.”
“So we understand,” Lukys replied, doing his best to adopt the haughty tones of the nobility. “Some trouble with Gemaho?”
“Yes,” Wallace replied, his eyes flickering to the open sea. “We are on high alert for the Gemaho King. His fleet has not been
