Conquering The Unbroken

Chapter 64

As a weaker and smaller crew, exhausted from days out at sea, we're more than ready to leave the ship. What awaits us on the other side of these waters, an approaching Flitsea, is the only trouble we face. And a large one, considering many of the people don't expect to see many ships arriving at their harbor at once—battleships, no less.

After all we've been through, this moment has finally come. There's no going back after this, we've gathered our forces together to the point we're suffocating on the means of armies and weapons and kings in our midst. Three kings. Two already ascended the throne. One on his way to fight for what is rightfully his.

Silas clamps a hand onto my shoulder and stares out at the approaching city with me. On my other side, Renit squints into the horizon, the shorter tips of his hair swaying in the breeze. A rusty dagger was apparently enough to trim his hair last night in front of a cracked mirror in our cabin, completely shirtless and still dripping wet from his bath. All the while he muttered about how he couldn't stand having somewhat long hair in a battle or anything that got into his eyes. I didn't bother hitting him with the rude awakening that I, too, need a haircut.

If I survive, I just might give myself one.

I smile over at Silas, and he conveys the same expression. He loops his arm around my shoulder and bends his elbow against the side of my neck. Though I can see through his false smile, the same isn't as easy for his brother or anyone else. Definitely not the two kings.

"This is our last moment of peace," he sighs with a lack of amusement in his tone. "Shall we make it count or just watch the land approach?"

I open my mouth to speak, but Renit is already calculating the risks. Their two different roles displayed before me. "Considering the guards are likely positioned in Flitsea...I don't think that's a great idea. I don't think you want an arrow to knock the drink out of your hand," he grumbles.

"Well said, brother." Silas's weight remains heavy on my shoulder and my back aches from holding up his left side. If he's injured in battle and I'm the one to drag him to safety...we're screwed. Renit is one thing, but Silas is another. "Though I could have gone with a different answer. I'd quite like a drink right now."

"Yes, and father would like to have both our heads on stakes. But are we going to give that to him?"

Silas grumbles under his breath. "That depends if he has ale."

At least Renit still has the decency to laugh at his brother's lack of professionalism. Even if it's hardly a huff through his nose, that's all the amusement I need to see. Life isn't meant to be lived underneath the false pretense that warriors must have the same cold and solid personalities as their armor. The heart beating in their chest is answer of that and I know, in the back of my mind, that Renit is waiting for his moment to laugh once this is all over.

These small moments get me by until I can make everything right for him.

Realizing this might truly be our last moment of peace, I drink it up. I lace my fingers in Renit's and bask in Silas's warmth from the other side. From the start, it was the three of us trying to make sense of the force brought on by their father, and it'll end with the three of us on this ship. There's a chance one of us doesn't make it out of this alive, but I've conditioned myself to believing there is a great chance in fight. Not every soldier dies, and while some do, others live to carry on legacies.

As the ships come closer and closer to the docks, I'm tugged in that direction, too. This will be over once we're on land again. And the guards waiting for us, already scrambling for their orders, won't see the light of day. Not through my power or Renit's, already brewing in the sky. As a warning for Flitsea's men that have blindly aligned themselves with the cruel king nestled in the north.