“Queen Lia never let anyone carry her things either,” one of the soldiers whispered to the corporal as the group headed above decks, Fel walking behind Syla.
That prompted a couple of approving nods, but one man eyed Syla and her pack with a darker expression in his eyes. She didn’t know how to interpret it but reminded herself of the captain’s warning about assassins.
The wooden docks along the shoreline had allowed several fleet ships space to tie up, and a couple more of their ships guarded the city from the mouth of the river. A gangplank hadbeen extended from theStormslicer, and Syla descended after the troops but paused on the dock to consider thecarriagethey directed her to.
Four horses were hitched to a wooden wagon with purple and red stains all over the interior. There weren’t any benches, unless one counted the driver’s seat. Pieces of metal siding—one was a sign that readFarm Fresh—leaned together, forming a tent in the wagon bed. A soldier waited to give her a boost inside.
“Is that a hay wagon?” Syla eyed the stains. “Or aberrywagon?”
“We couldn’t find anything better, Your Majesty,” the soldier said. “The carriage houses in the palace and also by the barracks were destroyed when the stormers attacked last night. We found this and cleaned it out the best we could and, er, armored it.” He pointed at the pieces of metal leaning together.
“Yes, I can see how those would stop cannonballs and dragons.”
“The dragons can’t get through the barrier, and the cannons are all pointed toward the sea.”
Syla debated whether the slender sheets of metal would even stop crossbow quarrels or arrows.
The soldier waved toward the mouth of the river. “Our fleet has also ensured that the stormer ships are secured, so nobody will be firing weapons. Though I understand there wasn’t anyone left aboard those ships when our troops got there.”
“Meaning the survivors all swam to shore and are milling about in the city?”
“Wherever they are, we’ll defend you against them if they attack.” The soldier lowered the tailgate with a clunk. Several cranberries rolled out and onto the dock.
“You were planning to walk,” Fel pointed out when she hesitated to climb aboard.
“A fair point.” Syla reached for the tailgate but paused as the soldier peered at the sky.
High above, Wreylith flew, surveying the island from beyond the barrier.
“That’s your dragon ally, right, Your Majesty?” the soldier asked with a twinge of uncertainty.
“Yes. She won’t bother us. She’s probably scouting for us. Maybeshecan find the missing stormers.”
I’ve returned to this island and am nearby if you wish to experiment,Wreylith informed her.Also, I believe I’ve spotted a bog bear snuffling for berries.
I thought you might be scouting the island for our enemies.
Two bog bears!Wreylith added with excitement.Oh, and that one is quite plump and succulent-looking. Their kind must be fattening up for the winter.
Syla resisted the urge to suggest that a certain dragon might long to do the same thing.
“She’s scouting?” Fel must have guessed from Syla’s expression that she was communicating with Wreylith.
“Definitely scouting.” Syla climbed into the wagon and sat cross-legged with her medical kit in her lap.
Fel and two soldiers joined her inside while the rest walked beside them as the horses pulled the wagon into the city.
While they bumped along cobblestone streets, Syla rested her palm on her moon-marked hand.I would like to invite my dragon ally, Wreylith, to pass through the barrier,she thought at it. She also tried to direct the thought toward the barrier above.
If anything happened, she couldn’t tell. The quarter-moon birthmark didn’t glow or tingle as it sometimes did when she drew upon her magic. She repeated the words, this time envisioning them being sent across the island and deep underground to where the shielder was mounted in a hiddenchamber. Many years had passed since her parents had taken her to see it, but she remembered it was accessible through an abandoned section of the salt mine in Prominence Hill.
Since the mine lay miles inland, Syla didn’t expect anything to come of her attempt, but her moon-mark surprised her by warming. An image of Wreylith formed in her mind, as if sent by someone—or something—and a sense of a question also formed, though she didn’t hear any words.
Yes, that’s my ally,Syla thought.A dragon who is helping me keep the Kingdom safe. I believe she was here before, long ago.
An image of a young bespectacled woman with dark hair and gray eyes formed in her mind, a roguish smirk on her lips and a sword in her hand. It took Syla a moment to recognize Queen Erasbella who, in all of her portraits, always sat demurely with needlepoint or knitting in her lap, and never with spectacles on. After readingThe Secret Life of Queen Erasbella, Syla knew the historians had left out a lot about the queen and fudged the truth to create a figure with an appropriately royal and mature mien.
Yes, Wreylith would have been with Queen Erasbella when she came.Syla kept trying to direct her thoughts inland to the shielder, though, for all she knew, she could have been communicating with a magical toadstool.
