The Heir Who Wouldn’t Drown
Copyright© 2026 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 8: The Price on His Head
The wind howled.
Warships generally sailed best in winds of ten to forty knots. Below ten knots, even wetting the sails would not help them catch enough wind. Above forty knots, or Force 8, every sail had to come down, and the ship had to find shelter fast.
Now the sea wind blowing from the northeast was gathering strength. Already above twenty-two knots, the Force 6 wind scattered the fog and whipped broad patches of white foam across the water. Murky waves piled one upon another, forming countless restless hills.
The warship charged in from the northeast, climbing those hills through seas already rough enough to be dangerous.
Julian had been right. She was Severe, a fifth-rate cruising warship of the Kingdom of Hastings’s Channel Fleet.
On a sterncastle that towered far above Maneater Shark’s, a gentleman in a silver wig and a formal coat with tortoiseshell buttons lowered a brass spyglass. He issued a cold command to the officer attending him.
“Run dead before the wind. Pursue at full speed. Not one of those Ravenshaw remnants is to escape. I specifically engaged a Seer of the Tower Sequence to perform astrological divination and pinpoint a position in the coastal waters of the North Sea. If we arrive in time, neither Hellborn, with his bounty of five thousand gold pounds, nor Pelican, which is helping the Ravenshaw faction spirit away its assets, will have any chance of escape. Anyone who dares oppose House Ashcombe of the White Rose will find no refuge, not merely in the Kingdom of Hastings, but anywhere upon the sea!”
A hand-drawn wanted notice was nailed firmly to the mizzenmast beside them.
The face on it was Julian’s.
Just as the Logbook had said, a world with supernatural abilities naturally had no shortage of ways to determine whether someone was alive or dead, or to track them down. Hunters of the Wilderness Sequence, Mediums of the Cemetery Sequence, and Seers of the Tower Sequence were all experts in such work.
After taking power, House Ashcombe had publicly announced that the Ravenshaw bloodline had been extinguished in the storm. No one remained with any claim that could threaten their succession rights or legitimacy.
Fair enough. What victor could resist dressing history up to suit his tastes?
Behind the scenes, however, a handful of the family’s inner circle had already read the reports on their old enemies of the Red Rose. Their “hounds,” supernatural practitioners drawn from various Sequences, had conducted a thorough investigation.
A secret hunt for Julian, the Last of the Ravenshaws, had begun at once.
Along with circulating a substantial bounty within the navy, they had saddled him with the thoroughly sinister name of Hellborn. Apparently, they could not bear the thought of that thorn in their side surviving a moment longer than necessary.
Of course, this might also have been his Title’s effect taking hold:
“Enemy of House Ashcombe! Hunted forever, until death!”
Freedom was far away. The Ashcombes were much too close.
Julian might have been lucky enough to survive the pirates, but he was nowhere near safe.
Aboard Severe, her captain, Commander Cedric, hesitated. Unaware of Julian’s true identity or importance, he braced himself and stepped forward to remonstrate.
“But, my lord, the North Sea’s weather is notoriously changeable in late autumn. We’re still feeling the effects of that strange storm five days ago. The wind is continuing to rise, and the waves are already nearly two meters high. Pursuing an enemy vessel in seas like these is extremely dangerous. Once the wind exceeds forty knots, it will be too late to seek shelter.”
His careful manner betrayed none of the imposing authority of a captain who held the lives of every soldier aboard in his hands.
But what could he do? Baron Valentin, who had taken it upon himself to issue orders, belonged to the newly ascendant House Ashcombe.
He might be no more than a member of a collateral branch, hastily ennobled to consolidate the family’s power, but he was still an Ashcombe. With House Ravenshaw destroyed, theirs was the only royal house in the Kingdom of Hastings recognized by the [Iron Law of Kingship: Great Charter].
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