Chapter 17

Rendalia City, Rendalia

Isolde wandered through the halls of the keep, her “protector” trailing behind her, a constant shadow. He was not a guardian, not really. More of a watchful jailer, a reminder of her captivity in Rendalia. She’d been excited when she’d first come here with William, free of her father’s control. Yes, she’d been scared, suddenly married off to someone who was, essentially, a stranger. But he wasn’t. Not really.

She’d spent time with him, enough to get a read on him. He was a good man, and every conversation that they’d had before he’d been forced to board the ship and sail back home had only reinforced that belief. That night, here in the city before he’d had to leave, was one of the happiest in her recent memory.

And then he’d left.

She understood why he’d had to go. His people were falling into civil war and he wanted to stop them. If his father was even half of what William had told her, he wasn’t the kind of man she’d want ruling. She’d heard some rumblings about unrest across the Leviathan Straits before the marriage, but William’s explanation was so much worse.

So she didn’t begrudge him leaving, but she’d fallen into a deep loneliness since he’d boarded that ship. Other than the two handmaidens she’d been allowed to bring with her, no one from her ‘old life’ had come with her. She lived in the midst of Sidorians, a stranger in a foreign land.

Sort of foreign.

So she’d taken to just wandering the keep, since every time she tried to venture outside, it was ‘suggested’ to her that it would be safer inside, where she could be ‘protected.’

She paused at the entrance to a room, glancing inside. Baron Pembroke was there, hunched over a desk scattered with documents, with what looked like a large map sitting in front of him. His head lifted as she walked into the room, and she continued on since he was one of the few Sidorians who would talk to her. He smiled as she walked in, but she couldn’t help but notice him quickly pulling documents over the maps, obscuring them from her view.

“Your Highness. A pleasure to see you.”

Isolde waved the guard off, motioning for him to stay outside as she stepped into the room. The man had the audacity to look to Pembroke, who gave him a slight nod, before leaving the room and closing the door behind himself.

“I was just walking. I’ve grown tired of my quarters. Although I would have stayed in them, had I known you would so easily remind me of how untrusted I am,” she said, pointing at the covered maps.

“It’s not a matter of trust, Your Highness. It’s just ... there’s a transition period in situations like this. You’ve only just become a Sidorian. The people here will need time to accept you as one of their own. Your new people don’t take change lightly.”

Isolde sighed, clasping her hands in front of her as she moved closer to the desk.

“I would have hoped you would have more trust in me, seeing how William trusts me. Is it because I continue to advocate for my people,” she said and then paused, correcting herself. “My former people.”

“That would be a part of it. You have to understand that we just finished a war with your father, and the tensions between Sidor and Lynese have been ongoing for several generations. And then you spend your time with us telling us we should give more rights to Lynesians. It makes things ... difficult.”

“I only ask that the people who have lived here for their whole lives, whose parents lived here for their whole lives, be treated with some level of fairness. I understand that some of the Lynesian nobles who stayed behind must lose their properties and positions, and most are destined to be sent back to ... Lynese,” she said, still having difficulty wrapping her head around the idea that this was no longer Lynese. “My concern is for the other people, the people who will now be ruled by Sidor. I want to know what will happen to them. Will they be allowed to stay and work under Sidorian rule, or will they be sent away? Will their land be taken and given to Sidorian lords?”

“The truth is ... I don’t know,” he said after a very long pause.

Isolde’s shoulders slumped. She didn’t know what to say to that. Her people, her former people, were going to be ruined. He’d all but admitted it.

“I wish I had a better answer for you,” Pembroke said, clearly seeing her disappointment. “But I can promise you this, if William and Aldric win, if this unrest back home settles in their favor, they’ll do the right thing.”

“What does that mean, the right thing?”

“William, like his uncle, believes in doing his duty to the people they rule, and I am certain that would extend to new subjects. In their eyes, it means the poor and the common folk, those who’ve worked the land for generations, will likely be allowed to continue as they have. They’ll work the land, live under Sidorian law, and pay their obligations to Sidorian lords. But the Lynesian nobles ... they won’t be allowed to stay. Not under Sidorian rule.”

She was glad to hear that his estimation of William was close to her own, but she also knew that he was going up against his father. Well, stepfather. And he’d been very specific about what kind of person his father was.

“And if William’s father wins?”

“Then things will be worse. The nobles will be gone, and it’s likely many Lynesians, even the common folk, will be removed. Those who aren’t will likely end up in chains. Forced into indentured labor until they’ve produced enough to satisfy the kingdom’s demands.”

“That’s not a future I want.”

“Nor do I, but these decisions aren’t ours to make. We are here, and the fighting is there.”

“What chances does William have of winning?”

“Your Highness, I cannot discuss internal Sidorian politics with you.”

“Cannot or will not?”

“Both. It is not that I do not trust you personally, but...”

“But what? William would tell me. If only you would let me send him a message. Instead, you keep me here like some caged bird.”

“You are not a prisoner, Your Highness. The soldiers are here for your protection. William would be devastated if anything happened to you.”

“A gilded cage is still a cage, my lord.”

Pembroke did not seem to have an answer for that.

Instead, he said, “Even if I wanted to send a message, William is still at sea. And with matters so uncertain at home, we must be cautious about where we send messages to wait for his landfall. Should we send it to a city that is then captured before his arrival, the wyvernery could be seized, our messages intercepted. We need to wait for word from William or Duke Aldric that the situation has stabilized.”

“How long will that take?”

“It is difficult to say. The safer route would have taken him two weeks, landing him in western Kingsheart. But that is not where he needs to be. His father controls that territory, and would do anything to keep William from combining his men with Aldric’s.”

“Then where...?”

“He is taking the slower, more direct path across the Leviathan Straits.”

Isolde felt the blood drain from her face. “But the creatures there ... I thought hardly any ships survived that crossing?”

“It is possible, though treacherous. The ships must maintain absolute silence, no lights after dark. They travel in groups, keeping watch in all directions. If they spot anything in the water, they change course immediately.”

And William chose this?”

“It was his only real option if he hoped to reach Sidor in time to make a difference.” Pembroke’s expression softened. “The route around Lynese and through the Great Expanse or north through the Frozen Sea would take too long. By then, the fighting could be over.”

Isolde said nothing. She had heard tales of the creatures that lived in the Straits. Stories passed from person to person, originating with sailors and fishermen who ventured too close to those waters.

“Your Highness?” Pembroke asked after a long moment.

She turned away, not wanting him to see her face. William had seemed so confident when he had left, so certain of his path. She had known he was sailing home, but she had not known he meant to brave the Straits. The thought of him out there now, surrounded by darkness and danger. If he died, where would that leave her? Would she be sent home to her father, a widow and spinster after only days of marriage? Would she stay here, a permanent hostage?

“I need some air,” she said, moving toward the door.

“Of course. Shall I have someone escort you to the gardens?”

“No.” She paused at the threshold. “I think I would prefer to return to my chambers.”

She did not wait for his response, stepping out into the hallway where her minder waited. As she walked back to her rooms, she thought of William on some ship in the Straits, surrounded by darkness and ancient horrors. When she had agreed to the marriage, she had expected politics and intrigue, perhaps even danger from human enemies. But this was different. In that realm, he had shown an ability to survive, even thrive. This was not something a warrior could just best or a politician out-debate. And she would be left all alone. Adrift.

Part of her also thought that it was not just her status that she was worried about. She enjoyed William’s company, both before they were married and after. She found him to be a decent man, caring and strong. She thought she would miss him, should he not come back. She found herself hoping he would survive long enough for her to tell him exactly what she thought of his reckless choice.

The guard opened her chamber door, and she entered without a word. Moving to the window, she looked out over the city, toward the harbor.

For now, she could only wait. Wait and hope.

Darien Coast, Iron Keep, Sidor

Sir Lionel Chatsworth stood atop the jagged cliff, the briny air biting at his face as he looked down toward the shore below. Easteye Island, the eastern of the pair of islands on the north end of Alther Bay, jutted out not far in the distance. Not as close as the Sisters, but unlike them, without the permanent garrison and placed siege weapons, to protect the narrows that lead into Alther Bay.

Knowing who was coming for them, it had not been hard to figure out where they would be arriving. The Darien Hills pressed up against the shore, leaving poor landing positions for quite a distance, forcing either a further crossing, that would leave more time for response, or the invaders to climb steep cliffs to get a foothold on this tip of Iron Keep.

There were only a handful of places for landing more than a fishing boat, and this was the best one. Lionel was confident that if they were coming, they were coming here.

If. The baron had warned them that this would be coming. It was the whole reason he’d gone to Stormhaven, to work with the other barons to get the forces together to counter it. Everyone had felt confident they had a little time. The Crown forces were spread out along the Thunderhorn and a lot of people were still overseas.