Captain Blaine Sculdin stood at the prow of the longship with the wind in his face and his cloak flapping in the breeze. A Ri Starian sailor stood beside him, a rough looking man who peered intently into the darkness. Sculdin wondered if the man could see or if he were just pretending. Other than the occasional whitecaps on waves, Sculdin saw nothing but blackness, heard nothing but the sea lapping against the hull and the oars cutting through the water. Still, Ri Starians were famous for their skills on the sea. Having no other choice, he put his faith in their reputation. In fact, the campaign he and Kardan had conceived hinged heavily on the skills of this ally from the north.
After two decades, tonight Sculdin would strike back at Chaos – the magic that had destroyed his family. He still missed his sister, Tegan. With her red hair, fierce determination, and fiery spirit, she was difficult to forget. Her talents as a duelist had her destined for greatness, sure to become a senior officer in the Holy Army. More importantly, if she were still alive, she would surely be among the leaders within The Hand.
However, her destiny was denied when Cameron DeSanus dragged her and the other paladin trainees from Fallbrandt to fight in a war they had no business fighting. Like so many others, Tegan never returned. She was so young, Sculdin thought. Her whole life waited for her, only to have it crushed by Chaos.
After learning of Tegan’s death, his mother became withdrawn, barely able to get out of bed. Three months passed before Sculdin returned to find her dead – poisoned by her own hand. His father died two years later. The medicus couldn’t pin the cause for the man’s death. Sculdin remained convinced it was from grief.
It took Sculdin years to discern the truth of what had happened to his sister. It took even longer to find a way to right the wrongs committed against her. The destruction of his family left him seeking answers at the bottom of a bottle – an indulgence he repeated often. Drinking ended up costing him dearly, and he lost his position working for Duke Gort of Sol Gier after a failed assignment. He then drifted for weeks before finding a new line of work. As a lifelong military man, accepting a position as a prison guard was beneath his skills, but the choice had changed everything.
There, he had discovered the missing members of The Hand, imprisoned for their belief that Chaos was evil. Vandermark and many of the older leaders had already died during their years of incarceration. Yet, the brightest minds still lived. With them, Sculdin plotted in secret. During a leave of absence, he located Karl Jarlish, and a plan fell into place.
Jarlish as an ally made the prison break a success. The flash powder obtained from the mines, along with Karl Jarlish’s brilliant mind, became the foundation upon which a new empire would be built. Like so many others, Chaos has claimed Jarlish – now just another name on the list of those who deserve vengeance. The thought of Corvichi’s destruction still irritated Sculdin. Flash powder weapons had since become precious commodities.
The man beside Sculdin raised a white flag, pointing starboard, and the ship began to turn. By the time the man lowered it, the lights of Wayport had become visible to the north. Methodically, the longship drew closer to the city, and Sculdin was able to make out the string of lights running from the pier to the eastern portion of the harbor.
“Just as Budakis planned,” he noted.
Knowing the plans of the Kantarian defense provided an immense advantage, and Sculdin was glad to use such knowledge.
Nine Ri Starian longboats trailed behind, sailing in a V formation. All had their sails tucked away, moving with the use of oars alone.
He climbed the stairs to the quarterdeck and nodded to the woman at the helm. Like many of the Ri Starian’s, Hiaga had blond hair and light eyes. Her hair was tied into a long braid, exposing ears with large hoops dangling from them. Despite the chill, the woman wore a leather vest, her muscular arms bare to the shoulders.
“Remember the plan,” Sculdin said.
Her face was masked in shadow, but even in the dark, he sensed the woman’s scowl. “Don’t tell me how to run my fleet.”
He pressed his lips together and held back a retort. A moment passed and then Hiaga turned toward a man standing to her other side.
“Now, Challo.”
The man lifted a lantern from the deck and removed the cover. It glowed blue from one side as mirrors shrouded the other three sides. Holding it up high with the light directed toward the trailing fleet, the man waved a panel in front of the lantern in an altering rhythm. The other ships saw it as a series of blinking lights. Sculdin didn’t understand the odd language, but he knew the message they were sending.
Hiaga put her mouth near the long tube sticking above the deck and said, “Quarter-speed.”
Moments later, the longship began to slow, and two other longships passed them, heading toward the blockade. The vessels appeared as faint shadows slipping across the water.
Hiaga called out again, and the oars of her ship fell still. The man with the light flashed another signal. One more vessel sailed past them as Hiaga’s longship and the rest of the fleet settled. Sculdin leaned against the rail and stared toward the string of blue lights dividing the eastern bay from the city.
He was eager for it to begin. His wait was short.
Blasts of green flared from the flash cannons onboard the lead crafts. The resounding thumps were met by crashes as the cannonballs crashed into the blockade. Distant shouts arose, only to be drowned out by another volley from the cannons. Some lights blinked out. Others began to sink. Fires arose on one blockade ship, the orange flames lighting the night and reflecting off the water, making it easy to see the silhouettes ahead.
The third longship passed the first two Ri Starian vessels, navigating between them at full speed. Without stopping, the beam at the prow of the longship smashed into the bow of the blockade ship adjacent to one that was sinking. The Kantarian ship rocked and shifted, creating a gap between it and the sinking ship. The oars of the longship continued turning, slowly pushing the blockade ship aside until the longship squeezed through the gap.
“They breached the blockade!” Sculdin said with a clenched fist. “Once my Infiltrators destroy their magic defenses, Brock will have no choice but to react. When he does, we will have them!”
The other two longships began to fire again, launching cannonballs at the blockade while the Kantarian soldiers and sailors aboard scrambled to respond.
“I got your men through, Sculdin. What now?” Hiaga asked.
“Now, we wait.”
“For what?”
“First, watch the castle.” He pointed toward the tallest building, towering above the southeast corner of the city. A flash of green emerged from the rear of the building, turning orange as the thump of the explosion reached his ears. “Perfect.”
“That’s why you mounted a catapult to one of my longships?”
“Yes.”
“To fire one flashbomb at the castle?”
“Consider it a signal of sorts.”
“A signal for what?”
“For our army to attack, which will force the defenders on the north wall to react.”
A loud crack sounded, followed by another.
“What was that?”
Sculdin pointed toward the blockade. “Look!” He chuckled in glee. “It worked.”
“Is that…ice?”
“Yes. The blockade is frozen in place. They cannot break free to stop us from landing on shore!”
“So, I can tell my fleet to begin the assault?”
“Yes.” He rubbed his hands together. “And while my team sneaks in from the south, our troops on land will strike from the north.”
Hiaga called for the oars to resume at full speed, the man with the lamp signaling the fleet to follow.
She turned toward Sculdin. “Why did you place all those men on the lead ship if you knew it would became trapped in ice before reaching the river?”
He stared at the frozen bay, lit by two burning kingdom ships, the onboard fires now raging. In the distance was the longship that had broken through the blockade, now trapped in ice near the river mouth. His Infiltrators on board were descending a rope ladder and running across the ice, toward the west riverbank. Those men had volunteered for a role that would make them heroes, but it was a suicide mission. If any survived, it would require a massive stroke of luck.
“Those soldiers are the final piece of the puzzle. If they can negate the magic that is undoubtedly keeping our infantry at bay, the city will soon be ours.”