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All over the deck sailors were climbing to their feet, though Mastoc was quick to notice that both Captain Deihm and his first mate were already up and shouting orders. Miraculously the men below were still manning the oars and the ship was making headway.

“Ten degrees port!” The Captain yelled, but the ship failed to respond. Maglo ran aft to inspect the damage but returned quickly.

“The rudder is smashed,” the first mate reported, “and we’re taking on water.”

“Make for land!” Mastoc yelled moving closer to the Captain.

“Shut up fool!” The Captain replied and was about to turn away when his head suddenly jumped from his body and rolled across the deck. Captain Astis of the Temple Knights pointed his bloody kali at first mate Maglo.

“Make for shore,” he said with just a touch of anger, and after the briefest hesitation Maglo nodded.

“Forty degrees port!” He ordered loudly, knowing with the rudder smashed the order was all but useless. The aft section was just so much kindling and with only oars to negotiate steering they would be lucky to make it through the turn at all. They had no chance of making it to land before they foundered. But surprisingly fear made the sailors of the Cardinal strong and they nearly made the turn before the Toranado trireme returned and this time the ship rammed them dead center on the starboard side. It knifed cleanly through the smaller ship, cutting it neatly in two.

The High King was again thrown to the deck, which pitched steeply; he held his hands to his ears trying to lessen the deafening sound of splintering wood. When the immediate danger passed, Mastoc glanced up, dazed. He tried to gain his feet and yelled for help, but his voice was lost among the screams of the mortally wounded. Mastoc struggled to stand but suddenly the ship rolled violently and the King began to slide toward the water. At the last minute, just before pitching over the edge, he reached out and grasped a railing and held on for his life. Surprisingly the ship seemed to right itself and for a brief moment Mastoc thought everything might be alright, but a quick look around showed only chaos. The ship was cut in two; the aft section was already going down with surprising speed. The High King caught sight of dozens of men on the doomed section hanging on; their eyes wide with terror, while others fell or jumped off into the sea. He glanced about for help, any help and realized that Captain Astis and all the Knights were missing from the deck, as was the first mate Maglo. There was a young sailor perhaps twenty feet away, but the horror reflected in her face convinced Mastoc that she would be of little help. He could swim and looked out to sea trying to gauge the distance to land and noticed that the Cassinni were indeed attacking the troopships.

‘Traitors!’  He thought once again.

The fore part of the ship stayed upright and afloat for several minutes before suddenly tilting and with astonishing speed tipped nose first and dove into the deep. In his terror, the High King foolishly kept a death grip on the railing as the ship sliced through the surface. Mastoc was ten feet underwater before he thought to release his hold on the doomed craft, but finally he relaxed his fingers and tried to push away. But instead of popping to the surface, Mastoc continued his descent, caught in the strong undertow of the sinking vessel. Ten, twenty, thirty feet farther into the deep he went until finally he managed to move far enough away to stop himself from plunging deeper. Lungs bursting, the High King began to frantically struggle toward the surface. He did not see the mast of the ship as it raced downward until it was less than a foot from his face. It struck with enough force to break the King’s nose and jaw and without thought Mastoc jerked back and gulped for air. He was rewarded with only seawater for his effort. Lights burst from behind his confused eyes and he tried to breath once more and was lost. A minute later the High King was dead and slowly following the Cardinal to the bottom of the Inland Sea.

XV

              Vio knocked softly on the door, feeling nervous and a bit queasy. Her stomach started its internal gymnastics during the battle with the Palmerrio, just after she killed her first person, and it had been flipping and flopping ever since. She tried food, water and finally a strong mash offered by an older veteran Massi soldier, but nothing seemed to help, so finally she just decided to fall back into her daily routine. She would run, spar and practice with her bow, and try not to think of the dozen or so men she had ushered into death.

              She was about to knock again when she heard a faint shuffling on the far side of the door.

              ‘Gwaynn couldn’t be sleeping still,’ she thought as she waited. ‘The sun was up full.’

              But when the door finally opened it was a sleepy Samantha who stood on the far side.

              “Oh!” The two young women said in unison. Samantha frowned slightly at the sight of Vio. The younger girl was shocked to find Samantha sleeping in Gwaynn’s room, though it was common knowledge that she was carrying his child, a fact that was pronounced through her thin sleeping gown.

              “Yes…” Samantha said a little irritably.

              “I…I was looking for Gwaynn,” Vio stammered, feeling somehow foolish.

              Samantha frowned again. “What about?”

              “I…I haven’t been feeling well since the battle,” Vio said hurriedly just wanting to get away. “I’ve never killed anyone before…I know it sounds stupid. I’ve been training to kill for almost five years on Noble with all sorts of deadly weapons, but somehow I never envisioned myself actually using them on a living person.” The words just fell out of her mouth as if on their own bidding, and Samantha’s features softened. Vio was a beautiful young woman and she obviously carried a torch in her heart for Gwaynn, but she was still nearly a child. Killing and war could be very traumatic for even hardened soldiers and Samantha’s heart went out to the girl.

              “Killing is a horrid business,” Samantha said sleepily and reached out and grabbed Vio’s hand and pulled her into the room.

              “Gwaynn’s out riding with Bock…scouting the Scar, but he should be back by mid-morning,” Samantha explained and plopped down on the edge of the bed. The bulge in her belly was clearly visible and Vio’s eyes moved from her obvious pregnancy to her missing hand and back. When she finally glanced up Samantha was smiling at her, somehow she no longer felt threatened by this young Deutzani woman.

              “You’re very beautiful,” Samantha said and actually found the courage to reach up and touch the woman’s glossy black hair. “I can see why Gwaynn is attracted to you.”

              Vio blushed. “No…oh no Gwaynn...well Gwaynn loves you obviously,” she said and gestured to Samantha’s bulging abdomen.

              “Yes Gwaynn loves me,” Samantha replied and just saying the phrase somehow made it all the stronger. “But he loves you too…maybe not romantically, but he loves you. I can see it when he looks at you.”

              Now it was Vio’s turn to frown. “Not romantically,” she said with such obvious sadness that Samantha actually felt pity for the girl. “Isn’t that the only love that matters?”

Samantha shook her head and took one of Vio’s hands in the only one left to her.

“No…Gwaynn and I…we lost so much love in our lives, family love, friendly love, love that endures and does not question…such love is far less fickle than romantic love. Gwaynn has such love for you and it is not without its rewards. Romantic love will come to you Vio Valencia and then it may leave you, but the love Gwaynn…Gwaynn and I offer you, will never let you down.”