“Ms.Alamay—” Samuel began.
“Is an Ustispy,” I returned.“Why would she tell us anything?Or do you plan to interrogate her?Unleash Ben on her?”
“I would not do that.”
“Then you will get nothing from her,” Olsa concluded.She blew calmly across the surface of her coffee, sending a swirl of steam over the table between Sam and I.
It occurred to me to wonder precisely how she and Illya felt about all this as Usti themselves, but she did not seem inclined to share.
Samuel looked as though he wanted to counter us, but took a deep breath instead and dropped his chin in something not quite a nod.“For the moment, I will concede.There is little we can do but speculate without the documents themselves, and more immediate concerns beset us.So, for now, we must put this aside.Ms.Alamay intends to remain with us for the time being?”
Olsa nodded.“Or so she says.”
“Then an opportunity remains.However,” Samuel went on, “I do not consider the matter closed.If our resident spy has information and decides to share, or Jessin Faucher andThe Red Tempestcross our paths again, I will not let the opportunity to learn the truth pass me by.”
FORTY-TWO
Admiral Rosser
SAMUEL
Hartdrifted into the channel south of Renown, the foremost settlement of the Aeadine Anchorage.A long arc of islands directly between Aeadine and Mere, the Anchorage had been contested since before clans became nations and the advent of gunpowder.The islands were scattered with ruined castles and fortifications from every era, and not a few visible shipwrecks on the treacherous outer reefs—left as warning to Mereish aggressors.
Three fortresses, however, stood whole.Fort Renown dominated its namesake town with seven-pointed walls, each bastion armed with a battery of long guns.Identical fortresses could be glimpsed to the north and south extremes of the chain, irregular blocks on the horizon.
Walls laced strategic points in between, and two smaller batteries guarded the only ingress to Renown Harbor from the west.A great chain was suspended between these pentagonal bastions, the sullied glisten of barnacle-crusted steel glinting between the waves.
“A salute, Ms.Skarrow,” I instructed as we made our approach.The shadows of the sails shifted, letting a beam of sunlight into my eyes.“And see our colors run up.”
“Aye, sir.”
As she strode away I removed my hat, just for a moment, to catch more of the sun.Warmth seeped into my wind-chilled skin, and shadows of sailors flitted across the smooth planks of the deck.
Mary situated herself beside me, and, for a moment, we stood quietly.I closed my eyes again, half to retrieve the peace of the sunlight and half to better consider the memory of her long legs cinched around my hips.
“We are doing the right thing,” she told me, and my imaginings tempered as I recognized her anxiety.“I have my papers—the Navy cannot press me.I have Tane.”
“And you have me,” I reminded her.
She smiled and surveyed the towers ahead, but the smile was not as wholehearted as I wished.
Clearing my throat, I fit my tricorn back in place.With it my responsibilities washed back over me, but they were ballast instead of a burden.
Ms.Skarrow topped the forecastle stairs.“At your pleasure, Cap’n.”
I gave a nod.
Skarrow turned and called calmly amidships, “Touch match!”
A single gun boomed out, a sound that reverberated down the quiet line of the islands.
I expected to meet with a challenge, to be left at anchor and signaled to send a longboat ashore.But mere minutes after our salute, a bone-deep rumble filled the air.The chain at the mouth of the harbor began to sink, and the eastern tower raised a welcoming flag.
Hart manifested as the ship crept across the chain.The massive spectral beast strode across the waves ahead of the vessel, guiding him into the calm, sheltered waters of Renown.The watchtowers fell away, a grating moan signaled the chain was being raised back into position, and Fort Renown filled our sight.
Four flags flew high from the central keep.One was the Aeadine flag with its bloody crown, the second the golden pennant of the South Fleet and another the flag of the Anchorage itself: a castle on an island, nestled between two uncradled cannons.
It was the last flag, however, that demanded my attention: a pennant of deep indigo.I turned sharply, surveying the ships in the harbor.
