“A farmer’s scythe, of all things to carry…” Ulvarth glanced at her from the corners of his eyes. “What a useless weapon.”
Vi bit the inside of her lip, keeping silent. Perhaps if she let him believe that’s all it was, he wouldn’t investigate further and peel back the fabric.
“Unless your determination surrounding it is something more?” She remained silent. Ulvarth chuckled. “You’ll talk eventually. They all do. Now, burn the boat,” he commanded his soldiers.
Three soldiers set their stolen vessel ablaze with circles of light. Vi stared at it, watching as what had once been Fallor’s ship burned into the sea. She wondered if she should feel something toward it, but she must’ve retreated once more into that dark place within her that Jayme had created. Arwin’s words echoed in her mind:He betrayed you.
It seemed like no time had passed at all before she was back on deck, but this time aboard a far more massive craft than even theStormfrost.Light’s Victorywas no doubt a flagship of the Sword’s armada. Its sides were riddled with cannons and a long ramming spear dominated its tall front.
“Take them below,” Ulvarth commanded to the knights still surrounding them, walking in the opposite direction.
Vi and her father obliged as they were led below the main deck. A long hallway with many doors stretched the length of the vessel before dropping off in another stairwell. Judging from the outside, the gun deck was beneath them now, which meant there had to be yet another subdeck for the crew to sleep.
“In here.” One of the knights opened a reinforced door heavy with various locks. “You will have a guard posted day and night. If we so much as get a whiff of magic, Lord Ulvarth’s patience and extreme generosity will run dry very quickly.”
“More generosity than they deserve,” one of the other knights muttered.
Vi and her father held their tongues as they walked into the small cabin. It wasn’t what she’d been expecting in the slightest. It was sparse, but comfortable enough. Certainly a very different type of confinement than what Adela had given either of them. The linens on the two cots looked clean, the bedding plush and fresh. Water sloshed in a jug on the shelf, threatening to spill with every sway of the ship. She was already trying to figure out Ulvarth’s goals in giving them this much comfort. What game was he playing?
The door closed behind them, and the sound of locks engaging brought her back from her thoughts.
“So much for a rescue,” Vi murmured.
“Far better than my last imprisonment.” Her father sighed heavily. He’d just been liberated and here he was, back again under lock and key. He sat on one of the cots.
“Mine too.” She went over to the small porthole—barred—and looked out over the sea. The last pieces of Fallor’s ship smoldered in the water.
“Yours?”
“Adela had me for a while, but I managed to escape.”
“You escaped her?” Aldrik said, wonder softening his voice.
“I nearly died doing it.” Vi looked back to the door. “I think if I tried to escape this imprisonment, I would die.” She had no doubt she could make a good run of it. But there were too many trained soldiers here. They’d get her, sooner or later.
“We’re not going to try to escape. It makes the most sense for us to get to Risen and sort this there. Perhaps their queen will be able to assist.”
“I doubt it.” Vi put her back to the wall, sliding to the floor. “Ulvarth said it himself—he doesn’t answer to the queen.”
“But—”
“The Swords of Light are part of a religious order on Meru—the Faithful—and they’re trying to consolidate power. They’re using fear of the end of the world to do it.”
“Little good consolidating power does if you have no one to rule because the world ends.” Her father made a good point, one that brought a tired smile to her lips.
“The only hope we have is Taavin. As the Voice of Yargen, hetechnicallysupersedes Ulvarth.”
“Technically?” Aldrik must’ve heard the strain in her voice.
“Ulvarth will do what he wants, regardless of what Taavin says. And if Taavin doesn’t say what he wants to hear, Ulvarth makes his life a misery,” Vi said bitterly, not wanting to go into more depth than that.
“This Ulvarth sounds like a tyrant in the making,” her father said solemnly. He’d know; he’d seen tyrants. Some claimed his own father had been one.
The words left a heavy silence in their wake. Vi took a deep breath, tilting her head back and staring at the ceiling. Her eyes drifted closed.
“I’m sorry. “I really was going to take you back to Norin if you’d wanted to go.”
The floorboards creaked as her father stood, walking over to her. He slowly sat next to her on the floor and covered her hand with his. “Only me?” he asked.
