Fathomless Fortunes [slash]

Chapter 16 - Going Home

Caera came in sight at dawn, its gray-green hills as usual hidden in mist, even now, during summer. Alastair couldn't risk to moor the Siren's Call directly at the port of Gwyrd, but there was a tiny pirate outpost a few miles to the northeast up the coast. It was just a handful of huts crammed together on a stony beach underneath a cliff, only reachable by boat. Old Ben and his sons and brothers had been manning the outpost practically forever. Alastair had often been here to deliver goods to be given to the poor farmers in the area. It was not much, but it was something.

Gwyrd, the capital, was no more than a small village in the shadow of the old castle. Even during the times of the High King, there hadn't been any real towns, just settlements protected by fortresses of various lords strewn all over the country. Only a few of these villages had survived in the last 50 years, and the alleged lords were mere subjects to the Albian government, without any power left.

When the Siren's Call lay safely at anchor at noon, Evangielle went ashore. While she was talking to the men at the outpost, Alastair ordered Lucky to get numerous crates and barrels filled with food and amenities loaded into the long-boats. It was hard work that needed every strong man aboard.

Alastair watched from the bridge how Nicolas worked among his unsuspecting comrades as easy and good-natured as any of the others. He was never shying away from any task and seemd to be helping wherever he could. Too good to be true.

But there was the deal. Alastair wouldn't let Nicolas out of his sight even for one moment while they were ashore, and neither would Evangielle. He had told her about Nicolas' confession this morning.

It didn't take long for Evangielle to return. She quickly climbed up the rope ladder from the long-boat and stormed toward the bridge.

"We have to act tonight. Old Ben says that the new governor is expected every day now. The castle is busy preparing everything for his arrival. It seems the man has sent orders ahead to replace most of the old furniture with new pieces. Someone might be crazy enough to throw away the old decorations."

"Is the secret passageway from the beach still accessible?" Alastair asked.

"Yes. Old Ben and his guys use it frequently to get some things from the storage rooms in the castle. Those are full enough that no one is missing a bag of wheat or two." She frowned. "Nothing has changed."

"Did Old Ben say anything about Ashland or his mother?"

Evangielle stepped closer and put a hand on his arm. "Rumors have it that she hasn't left her rooms since the governor's death. Ashland seems to have been involved in the castle's runnings a lot during the last year. The old man must have been ill for some time, so Ashland all but took over. No small feat for a boy of fourteen." She paused. "I did miss him, you know? He was a sweet little brother."

Alastair put his arm around her waist to pull her close. Evangielle leaned her head against his shoulder. Half an hour ashore, and she was already smelling of moss and honeysuckle. She had always escaped her governess as a little girl to run through the fields, only to come back with flower wreaths in her hair and moss-stained skirts. Alastair had tried to catch her every time before the governess could. The memory was sharp and clear as a dagger in his mind.

"Ashland was the main reason we were thrown out. I know it's not his fault. But I'm not sure if I want to think of him as a sibling. We have nothing in common."

"You're such a bad liar," she said softly. "But we won't see him anyway, so it doesn't matter. Let's set out this afternoon. We'll be in Gwyrd by nightfall. Nicolas can row us."

Alastair looked toward the men loading the long-boats. The sun had broken through the mist at last and burned down on the workers. Some of them had taken off their sweaty shirts by now, Nicolas among them. He laughed at a joke Lucky just made and pushed some wet, dark strands of hair out of his face. His usual short ponytail had come loose. Drops of sweat glistened on his bare, tanned chest.