The Forgotten King

and the sails were spread between them, rather than from the cross-trees of one. Much less rigging was needed and the sails could be swiveled from one mast to another to catch the wind at varying angles – a uniquely Atiltian ship, built for France by the late King Plantagenet. Below deck, the sleeping quarters had been commandeered for supplies. The entire fleet was at full strength. They could not spend the night aboard, perhaps, but they did not plan to. This was all done by Vahan Lee, whose strength in matters of detail and pedantry was unsurpassed. What he lacked in military prowess he made up in preparation.

Once on board, they went to the dining room – reserved for the king – and took their evening meal, in preparation for the coming battle. The King of France took the head of the table, with Willard to his right and Vahan Lee to his left. Ivona sat by Willard, then Horatio, Leggitt, and Captain Khalid. De Garcia took the foot of the table, and on the other side were Leggitt, Patrick, and Lydia. Their conversation proceeded as follows:

VAHAN: What has come of your journey? You return, but Montague does not.

WILLARD: He is no more, at least in this world.

KING: Montague destroyed?

WILLARD: He went to his god. The mountain was full of hideous creatures. He disappeared among them.

KING: So it is! My father was right to decree that none should approach that lonely peak. I will not revoke it, for there is unspeakable evil within.

WILLARD [with a smile]: Unspeakable, indeed.

VAHAN: And the Holy Graal?

WILLARD: We will see what comes of it. If Milada is healed, we will know.

IVONA: It is done.

KING [to Lydia]: And you, my glowing sun, are some royal creature, in blood as well as beauty?

LYDIA: Indeed, I am the daughter of the King of Hibernia, Emperor Lyndon.

KING [rising to his feet]: What! You keep strange company, Willard; I, however, disdain to keep spies within my circle, least of all to feed them from my table!

WILLARD: And do I? She is with us by chance.

PATRICK: Chance, and in the same degree as that which formed the heavens and the earth. She is by my side and by the side of my people. Birth is not worth, in royalty or in peasantry.

KING [sitting]: So I see. I will leave the politics of the Three Kingdoms to Vahan. But beware lest your loves lead you to wrong, Patrick McConnell. Even I, the king, must guard against the temptations of the flesh.

PATRICK [with a wavering voice]: I will take your majesty’s saintly lead in the matter.

The king seemed to linger on the precipice of anger; but, thinking of his dignity, pretended not to understand the young man’s remarks. The others did likewise. Silence fell like snow and through it their thoughts could not be seen. As they finished, the silence was shaken by a knock on the door. No one answered. It opened to reveal a windy old man, the Admiral of the fleet.

“Your majesty,” and he lowered his head in respect, “The storm has come full force and has churned the waves against us. We will be late reaching Atilta, if we can pass through at all. Not even my old comrade William Stuart could pass this storm, such is its temper!”

Chapter 80

“At last, it is time,” and Gylain took the hand of his ally and equal, the King of Hibernia.

“We will both bruise their heel and crush their skull,” the other returned.

They stood on the deck of a great warship, The Barber , the centerpiece of the navy of the Three Kingdoms. It was four hundred feet long and seventy-five wide, with three stories above water and four below. The materials were Atiltian – as were all good ships of the time – but the construction Hibernian. Atiltian sailors used swiveling masts, but foreign sailors could not handle them as well; instead, the largest ships used a system of multiple masts similar to the French King’s flagship. The masts were arranged in rows on either side of the ship, placed at equal distances from one another either along one side or across the center. Sails could be hung across the width of the ship or at an angle perpendicular to it; one system assisted in turning such a massive hull, the other in propelling it. Since the sails could be easily rotated, The Barber could turn almost in a complete circle when the sails and rudder were aligned together. Still, it was inferior to the Marins, for those did not need to tack or come about at all.

TheBarber stood in the center of Eden’s harbor, surrounded by two hundred battleships: half from Atilta, half from Hibernia. Hibernia had never been a sea power, and thus did not have as large a navy as France; Atilta, on the other hand, was a sea power whose navy had been diminished by its Admiral’s forced departure. Ships that had been in the Atiltian navy were now pirates haunting distant waters, or mercenaries for other nations. Hibernians were by nature precise, and were – as their ideas of beauty professed – enchanted by a uniform, consistent architecture. Their navy, therefore, was made of ships built from a single design. The Admiral of the fleet knew the exact proportions and abilities of each ship, and each captain could know what his comrades could achieve; the result was a systematic fighting force. The Hibernian navy was run as if it were an army: their formations, lines, and maneuvers came directly from the Emperor’s experience as a general. Each ship held a battalion of archers and of soldiers, with a limited number of sailors, and the ships were treated more like floating islands than maritime vessels. Yet what they gained in consistency and force they lost in genius. A single, dexterous ship could confound a whole fleet of this kind.

The fleet of Atilta was of an entirely different character than that of Hibernia. Its ships were gathered from wherever they could be had and manned by whatever seasoned sailors Gylain could find. Some were small cutters, barely fit for combat though fast and agile. Others were galleons, meant for pirating but used for privateering. Still others were massive frigates or triremes. Their captains came from an equally assorted mix: some were pirates working with a license, others mercenaries, others Atiltians fighting for their fatherland.

The Floatings was now empty but for the warships, for the larger vessels had withdrawn into the river system at the sight of the force – afraid of being plundered – while the smaller vessels had been taken ashore. A few merchants worked to supply the fleet at a great profit, though they risked black-market sanctions by the largely rebel trading force. While they were supplied, the two fleets floated there a bobbing military city: upwards of thirty thousand men in a few square miles. Gylain sat beside Lyndon – the King of Hibernia – at a table put out on the deck of The Barber , covered by a canopy of sail cloth.

“We rule by strength, and our only justification is our strength,” Gylain said. “We do not claim to rule by the people, nor by the blood of destiny: our only mandate is our strength, our might, our power to enforce our wills upon the people. The only consent of the governed is the strength of the governor. Thus, we now go to prove our right to the throne, Lyndon. Let us not prove our weakness instead.”

“For order and hierarchy among men, and equality of man with God,” the King of Hibernia returned. “I am with you in this, Gylain. But tell me, where is Cybele?”

“She is a prisoner of the Fardy brothers, on her way to the rebel headquarters even now.”

“This is dark news, if not quite dark forebodings; for we still have her armies. The strength of the commander is important, but we have other commanders. What we lose most is legitimacy among the ignorant people.”

“In Saxony, perhaps, but not in Atilta. But so be it, for the people are ignorant, as you say.”

Lyndon turned to face the deck behind him, where Montague and de Casanova were approaching. “I see you have found your way to Gylain’s side, de Casanova,” and he motioned for them to be seated.

“I have, though by bitter turns of which I am not proud.”

“I have heard as much,” Lyndon sighed. “Yet we will feast on revenge, and in our repast you will undo the dishonor done your name. Do not think that I feel you weak, for if you had won you would be a god. What of my daughter?” He said this last part carelessly, but with a disguised meaning, a masked sincerity.

“She denied my love.”

“What is lost in love is won in war, and what the heart forfeits power regains. Be at ease.”

“Am I not? The ardor of my love grows chill. At each remembrance I am more sane to the world of reality. Her enchantment is passing.”

“Then it is well, for I feared I would lose my adopted son to my earthly daughter, even as I lost my earthly son to my adopted riches. In the end, however, you will not go astray as he has.”

“Your son is of no concern,” Gylain said, “For Lionel is lost in exile.”

“Were it true!” Jonathan Montague exclaimed, rising from his seat to expend his passion in pacing before the table. “But I saw him in the streets of Eden last night, though I could not catch him in the darkness. I meant to tell