Chapter 10

“How could you let this happen?”

Under-Captain Kovak sat at the long table in the dining cabin before Phir-Ramarian, Mather, Cyprian, and Moore, who was trembling with rage. Bastion Pike sat further down the table, feverishly jotting down the transcript of the inquiry.

Kovak and the haulers had fled the wood while Daeg was being torn apart, and, terrified, blundered their way back to the Fortune. Now, Kovak, indignant at any suggestion of mismanagement, had just outlined to the expedition commanders what had occurred in the woods.

“It wasn’t something I allowed to happen,” Kovak answered testily. “Shepherd Daeg was expected to perform his role. It was necessary to complete our hunting excursion. I couldn’t help that he failed. It’s not like any of us could have stepped in and helped him.”

“By your own account,” Moore seethed, “you sent him to confront that shade for a pig. For a pig. He was there to protect you and your men if it was absolutely necessary. You should have left the pig and returned to the boat as soon as you saw the shade. Or, at the very least, you should have waited to see if it would wander off on its own.”

Kovak looked expectedly at Mather, who shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“And why wasn’t there any warning that we would be facing something different out here? This shade’s appearance should not have been a surprise. Why didn’t the badlander have anything to offer? Or what of your man, Berg?” Moore demanded, directing his ire toward Cyprian. “He’s been out here before.”

Cyprian, surprised to be put on the spot suddenly, felt his face flush. “I don’t think Jotun ever got close enough to a shade to tell what might be different here.” He chose not to add that the shepherds who had accompanied his father’s first expedition, the ones who might have known those differences and been able to impart that knowledge, had all been lost with his father’s second expedition.

Moore scoffed with disgust and folded his arms. “And the badlander?”

“He’s advised us that, in his travels, he avoided shades at all costs. He had no way to defend against them, so, beyond knowing the typical dangers they presented, he had nothing to offer,” Mather said.

In his agitated state, no answer would placate Moore. He sputtered for a moment, then turned back to Kovak. “Well, whatever the case, you should have known better. You should have led your men to safety, not stood there uselessly while Micla was killed.”

“I understand your displeasure, High Shepherd,” Mather said diplomatically, “but please refrain from telling my men what their orders are. Under-Captain Kovak was attempting to complete his assignment, and cannot be held responsible for Shepherd Daeg’s loss.”

“He was responsible for those men,” Moore nearly shouted in response. “There would have been no punishment for returning empty-handed. We are not starving; we were just looking to supplement our stores. This is outrageous—the complete lack of regard for my men is monstrous! I want this imbecile demoted! Better yet, in shackles for gross incompetence!”

“Upset or not, I won’t abide that tone,” Mather growled, scooting his chair back.

Cyprian looked back and forth between the two men, anticipating that they were about to come to blows, then at Phir-Ramarian. The prince, who was responsible for all of them, sat with his eyebrows slightly raised, watching without comment.

“One of my men is dead, and you want to lecture me about orders and tone?”

“You’re out of line.”

Phir-Ramarian finally realized that Cyprian was staring at him and that it was up to him to restore order to the meeting.

“Silence, both of you,” he snapped. Moore and Mather stopped arguing and looked at him. Once he had their attention, he seemed unsure of what to say next. After a pregnant pause, he continued. “What happened to the shepherd was tragic. We will have a shepherding ceremony for him with full honors. And we will make sure that in the future, any separate excursion is accompanied by two shepherds, who will only engage shades when needed. But what occurred was not the fault of the under-captain, or any of the men with him. It was a tragic accident. The matter is settled. You are dismissed, Under-Captain.”

Moore sank into his chair and put his head in his hands. Mather’s face was a stoic mask. Kovak, who clearly felt vindicated, rose and thanked the prince profusely for his good judgment.

“Just answer me one more thing,” Moore said.

Kovak paused.

“Did Micla produce a shade?”

“We didn’t wait to see.”

Moore nodded to himself and inhaled sharply. Kovak lingered for a moment before looking toward Mather, who gestured for him to go. Once he’d left, Moore turned to Phir-Ramarian.

“I sincerely hope your life is never in that man’s hands, my lord.” He rose swiftly and stalked out of the cabin, banging the door against the wall on the way out. Phir-Ramarian, who would normally never accept being addressed in such a manner, sat dumbfounded.

“I’m sure the high shepherd just needs some time to think things over. To process his loss.” Phir-Ramarian smiled weakly. “Let’s hope it’s the only loss we suffer.”

•••

The symbolic shepherding of Micla Daeg was a grave affair, one attended by every member of the expedition, aside from Daeg himself, whose remains had been left far behind by the steadily cruising riverboat. Moore officiated, and his short speech was punctuated by pleas to the Void-God and barely veiled criticisms of the expedition commanders. The remaining shepherds stood by Moore, looking miserable.

Phir-Ramarian ignored the critique, watching the whole ceremony with a look of detached solemnity. Kovak, recently endorsed by the prince, stood near him. He appeared unmoved. For the rest of the company, the ceremony was an uncomfortable reminder of the very real dangers they faced. In an abstract sense, they’d all acknowledged the possibility of death on the expedition. None had imagined that it would occur so soon.

In the absence of a body to burn, Moore finished by symbolically lighting Daeg’s non-essential belongings before casting them overboard. Any useful things he’d owned had been retained by the other shepherds. The small crowd began to disperse, returning belowdecks and back to whatever tasks they needed to complete. Moore, flanked by the other shepherds, remained at the railing, gazing into the black waters below.

•••

Changes to the hunting party excursions were implemented, as Phir-Ramarian had said they would be. Only one party was sent out at a time, reducing their chances of success, but allowing for two shepherds to accompany the hunters, while the other two remained aboard the Fortune. Rayburn, who felt immensely guilty for suggesting the hunts that had inadvertently led to Daeg’s death, was determined to ensure that they were safer in the future.

He had approached Moore tentatively after the shepherding ceremony and confessed his guilt. Moore had been surprised by the man’s earnest nature, and comforted after Kovak’s complete denial of culpability. They had sat in the musty darkness of Moore’s cabin and discussed what could be changed.

“The Under-Captain,” Moore had said with derision, “did impart some useful information. He said that the shade’s body had been like a hardened shell. Micla’s attempt to slash at it with his blade failed; he only found success when he stabbed it. I’ll make sure that my acolytes know this. By the Void-God’s blessing, Micla’s death has at least granted us some wisdom.”

Rayburn had nodded along, unsure of what else to say. In the end, he’d simply vowed to assist Moore in any way he could and pledged that his men would be instructed to help any shepherd in trouble.

Scudamore, Brunson, and Hughes were not selected for the next hunting excursion, and did not complain. As a show of good faith, however, Phir-Ramarian ensured that Kovak still led the party, despite the palpable tension between him and the shepherds. Per the new policy, both Galt and Blackburn escorted the hunters, and the two men, especially Galt, seemed ready to kill Kovak themselves. The hunting party returned empty-handed, but more importantly, with no losses.

All the while, the Fortune steadily continued its journey south. The river began to bend slightly to the east, and the sky lightened noticeably. The strangely bright sky, changed for the first time in any of their lives, raised spirits and restored confidence in the expedition.

Concordantly, the third hunting excursion returned triumphant. Under Kovak’s leadership, they had netted two large pigs and a small horselike creature. The animals were appropriately butchered and treated for preservation, with some of the meat set aside for a celebratory feast. It restored the spirits of the company further, though some muttered that it was a waste.

The successful outing came at a fortuitous time. Shortly after, they seemed to reach the end of the lands kept alive by Ganachim’s influence, and an end to their chances of finding any game.

The sudden change in their surroundings was startling. The previously dense pines that had enclosed either side of the river dwindled, first to skinnier, sparser trees, then to twisted, malnourished ones, sporting only a few brown needles. Scrubby undergrowth seized on the opportunity to receive slightly more sunlight and flourished briefly. Then that, too, shriveled.

The river bent further east and began to grow broader and slower. As the full-cycles passed and they continued east, the sun slowly crept higher in the gray sky, threatening to pierce the clouds at any moment. The temperature began to rise, and the malnourished trunks became sun-bleached husks. The eerie surroundings were soon forgotten as the first real rays of sunlight that most of them had ever felt reached them.

They had entered the Daylands.