deck.
There – standing before him with a lion’s face – was Cybele, the queen of Saxony.
“Treachery!” he cried, looking in horror at the fair lady, whom he knew was not so fair within. Her hair made the clouds gray, and her gray eyes made the misty dawn a desert.
“Treachery!” he cried, and took a step backwards, forgetting that he already stood on the very precipice of the waters. He stumbled and fell into his boat, which was sinking steadily beneath the waters. Meredith grabbed the oars and began rowing away from the Marin, imbued with the same vigor he had while approaching it. But within ten feet he found himself floating on the oars, as the boat deserted to Neptune.
“You may have me!” he cried with great determination, “But though you take my life, you cannot take my secrets!”
“A bottle of Atiltian Scotch will do that easily enough,” a jolly voice called out. “But come, old friend, you are getting wet!”
Meredith turned and saw the blond Fardy exiting the same passage as Cybele. Behind him were his two brothers.
“You know us to be patient,” the brown brother called out, “But still, I am eager to know why you should swim, when there is so much to be done?”
“Indeed,” the blond Fardy added, “And though I do not mean to sink your ship, we must hurry. As for swimming, you can do it within the walls of our Marin.”
“We must be patient, brothers,” the black Fardy said, squinting his crooked nose and opening wide his oyster eyes as if to display absolute seriousness. “We may be men of action, but Meredith has served well enough to do whatever floats his boat.”
“He is a great man, without a doubt,” the brown brother added in the tone of a eulogy. “For even when our cause seemed dark and without hope, he never abandoned ship.”
“Shut up or shove off, there!” Meredith cried, half angry and three-quarters joyful. He paddled with his arms a moment; then, when he reached the Marin’s dock, the Fardy brothers pulled him up. By this time, the current and the Timber had taken them closer to the hidden harbor.
“What is this?” Meredith asked as he looked over the queen.
“A prisoner of war,” the blond Fardy boasted.
“Ah! But?” Meredith did not finish, though the others knew his meaning.
“She is here,” the queen said silently, all breath and no voice.
“Ah! But?” they knew what he meant this time, as well.
“She came to me and I imprisoned her, as the strong must do to the weak. Then I was made weak by these – men. I am no fool; still, I will not be tamed.”
“No one blamed, no one tamed.”
“Spare me! My ears have cavorted with your impious tongue long enough,” and yet she smiled vaguely. If her heart was corrupted by power, she no longer had any. Yet there are worse things for a person than mere authority.
“Your tone betrays the good which you cannot cover,” Celestine said, coming onto the deck. “Or you do not even wish to cover it?” She placed her hand on her sister’s shoulder.
Silence, then, “You were not lax in preparing a greeting, Meredith,” the blond Fardy said, pointing to the channel, where the fleet was coming onto the ocean single file.
“I did not order it,” Meredith said, “And there is barely enough men to sail them. Captain Koon is a presumptuous man.”
“Yet the sea is calm: men are not so necessary.”
“Perhaps, but I will still rebuke Koon for moving without my orders. A true navy would not be run in such a manner.”
“Is it a false navy?” Celestine asked. “And is not a true man worth a dozen veteran sailors?”
“You rebuke me!” Meredith said. “But look, we will see their purposes soon enough, for they come at a speed which this wind would not seem to sanction. I misjudged their seamanship.”
They stood in silence, waiting as the grand vessels drew near. The figures on the deck were obscured by the sun and sails and could not be identified. The foremost ship –
“Ho! You are not a petty officer, Captain Koon,” Meredith called out.
“Nor am I,” returned a gruff, old voice.
“Demons and devils!” the monk stepped backwards, “Admiral Stuart!”
“Whom did you expect? The devil has come, as you say, and my demons with me. But come aboard, for Gylain is on the move and we must join him in that.”
As he spoke, Cybele closed her eyes and pressed her lips together.
“Do not fear him,” Celestine whispered, “For he is father.”
“Yet as he says, he is also the devil!”
Chapter 73
“Meredith!” called the Admiral as he stuck his head over the rail to see and be seen. “Meredith, why does the commander leave his post?”
“To see the Fardy brothers returning gallantly on their water castles!”
“That is well in times of peace,” the Admiral spoke slowly, “But in war it is weakness, and weakness is rewarded only with defeat. Remember this.”
“I had not forgotten.”
“Very good, then. Yet the Fardys have loosed the lion. Gylain is on the hunt. If your Marins cannot break fifteen knots down the coastal stretch, we will tow them.”
“They cannot,” the black Fardy answered.
“There, Barnes!” and the Admiral turned shipward, “Attach this Marin to
“Yes, sir!” though the young man could not be seen on the towering deck.
The Admiral returned his face to the Marin. “Celestine, why are you here? You should be with Alfonzo, for he needs you in his endless toil.”
“Yet my sister is here.”
“Your sister by blood but not in it; she serves another. I do not know her as a daughter, but as the Queen of Saxony; and the queen of Saxony does not dwell within my heart.” He paused. “She has come in war, and meant to attack Thunder Bay alongside Gylain – so my spies have said. Do you even deny it?” His voice was a glacier.
“Not in the least,” and she returned his cold glance without emotion.
The Admiral grabbed onto the rail of the ship – fifteen feet above the Marin’s dock – and swung himself over and onto the platform below. He landed in front of Cybele, raising himself to his full stature and locking her into a melee of the eyes. To Meredith, “Bring forward the chains, Commodore. She is an enemy commander and not to be treated with leniency.”
“Father!” Celestine cried, and she stepped back to separate herself from the act which she abhorred. “Have you no heart? No love for your own daughter?”
“I am a soldier.”
“But a soldier still has a heart, for he is a man before a soldier.”
“Silence, fool!” Cybele hissed, “I am a soldier, as well. To be captured is weakness and for a soldier weakness is death. I was gloried in strength. Thus I must be mocked in weakness. Let it be!”
“Meredith, chain her,” the Admiral said, ignoring the conversation between his daughters.
Meredith did not do it, partly from wonder and partly because he had no chains.
“Forgiveness, father!” Celestine continued. “Are not the ways of God above the ways of man?”
“I am not God!” the Admiral turned and looked her over. “What has happened? For your face is marked with the whip.” His voice became involuntarily tender. He held her chin in a fatherly embrace.
“The toils of the journey,” she whispered.
“She lies,” Cybele said, her voice broken. “She is indeed marked by the whip, and by my orders. I faced her as
