Randolph Baker could see the bright moon shining through the window of the Naval Club as he sat playing whist, and he glared at it.
“Goddamn moon,” he grumbled. “Full moons hold luck.”
“They do, sir,” said his opponent, saying with a wink at his partner, “for some of us.”
He added casually, apropos of nothing, “The moon will be waning gibbous on Hallen Day, sir. Also said to be lucky.”
The officers exchanged conscious glances and knowing smiles. Their ships belonged to the Expeditionary Fleet, secretly preparing to help thwart the expected Guundaran invasion. These officers would have been on board their ships, but Randolph had ordered them to follow their usual routine, which meant that they would be spending their evenings in the Naval Club.
Randolph paid his losses and made his way to the common room. He asked the club steward if anyone had left a letter for him. He should have heard news of Henry by now and he was worried that he had not. No news was not necessarily good news. If Henry had died, Alan would be loath to tell him.
The steward replied that he had not received any letters. Randolph sighed, and took a seat at a table and ordered a brandy. He was about to pick up the Haever Gazette when someone dropped a coin on the table.
Randolph looked up to see a gentleman bundled up in a greatcoat with a scarf around his face. The gentleman very slightly lowered the scarf, revealing bright blue eyes. Randolph gave a start.
“Your Maj—”
Thomas shook his head and covered his face.
“We need someplace where we can talk in private,” he said in a low voice, muffled by the scarf.
“My rooms upstairs,” said Randolph.
They ascended the stairs in silence. Randolph opened the door, ushered his guest inside his quarters, and closed the door. Thomas shed his scarf and coat and shook his head at the offer of a brandy.
“The Naval Club is quiet tonight,” he observed.
“Work on the ships proceeds apace, sir,” said Randolph. “A few of the officers are here to keep up appearances. We’ve let it be known that we’re readying the fleet for the Hallen Day review.”
“Good,” said Thomas. “But that wasn’t what I meant. King Ullr received some very disturbing news today.”
He explained the mysterious meeting he had witnessed between King Ullr and Baron Grimm.
“I have no idea what Grimm told him, but whatever it was, Ullr was furious,” said Thomas. “I came to see if you might know what happened.”
Randolph shook his head. “I have no idea.”
“Have you heard of an Admiral Schmidt, sir?”
Randolph set down his brandy snifter and sat bolt upright. “Schmidt is the Lord of the Guundaran Admiralty, sir. Why?”
“Ullr mentioned him—”
Their conversation was interrupted by the sounds of a commotion coming from downstairs: cheering and raucous laughter and jubilant shouts.
Randolph and Thomas exchanged glances.
“You are right, sir. Something has happened. I’ll find out what. You should wait in the bedroom.”
Thomas rose and retreated to the bedchamber as Randolph headed for the door. Before he could reach it, however, he heard the steward engaged in an altercation.
“Females are not permitted in the club as I have tried to tell you, Miss Nettleship. I must insist that you leave.”
“Females not permitted! I never heard such rubbish!” Amelia returned. She leaned down to shout through the keyhole. “Admiral Baker! I must speak to you!”
“Miss Nettleship, you must leave!” the steward persisted. “The admiral is not to be disturbed.”
“Admiral Baker!” Amelia struck the door with what sounded like the handle of her umbrella. “I have a message from Master Yates. Take your hands off me, you rogue!”
Randolph flung open the door in time to find Amelia clouting the steward with the umbrella. The admiral managed to disarm her.
“I will vouch for this lady, Rankin,” Randolph said.
The steward straightened his rumpled vest and smoothed his hair. He cast Amelia a baleful look and started to leave.
“Wait a moment, Rankin. What the devil is going on downstairs?” Randolph asked.
“The gentlemen have just received word of a great naval victory, sir. The Guundarans launched a sneak attack on Wellinsport. The Terrapin was the only Freyan ship in the vicinity. Captain Northrop attacked the Guundarans against overwhelming odds and was victorious. The Terrapin sank five of their warships.”
“Five! God bless my soul!” Randolph exclaimed. He cast an oblique glance toward the bedchamber. “Good old Alan! When did this battle take place, Rankin?”
“Four nights ago, sir. The news just arrived at the Admiralty. If you will excuse me, sir, I must return to my duties.” The steward cast a last furious glance at Amelia. “Females are not allowed. If you will take responsibility—”
“Yes, of course,” said Randolph.
Amelia stalked into the room. Her hat was askew, her bobby pins falling out, her skirt and coat splattered with mud. She wore a muffler wrapped around her hat and tied under her chin, thick gloves, and carried the ever-present reticule on her wrist.
“Greetings, Admiral.” Amelia shook hands. “Is that brandy? I’ll have a snifter. I’m cold through to my knickers.”
She sent her sharp glance around the room.
“Who is your guest, sir?”
Thomas emerged from the bedchamber.
“Did you hear the good news, Your Majesty?” Amelia asked, inclining her head in what, for her, passed as a curtsy.
“I did, Miss Amelia,” said Thomas, smiling. “Phillip must have reached the Terrapin in time.”
Randolph helped Amelia untangle herself from the muffler, then poured her a brandy. Thomas drew up a chair near the fire and invited her to be seated.
Amelia downed the brandy in an unladylike gulp, then held out the snifter for a refill. “I must say I find it most advantageous that you are here, sir. Wonderful news.”
“I trust the news is true and not some wild rumor,” said Randolph. “Can’t goddamn believe anyone these days.”
“King Ullr believes it is true,” said Thomas. “That must be why he nearly struck poor Baron Grimm. Never be the bearer of bad tidings.”
He raised a glass. “I give you the Terrapin, her captain and crew.”
They drank the toast. Amelia began tucking in the bobby pins that had come loose during her tussle with the steward.
“I know my men call me ‘Old Doom and Gloom,’” said Randolph. “And I hate to say this, sir, especially now, but you realize that this news is not necessarily good news.”
“What do you mean, sir?” Thomas asked.
“Ullr knows word of his defeat will spread fast. Every soul in Freya will hear that Guundar attacked Wellinsport and will be clamoring for war.”
Even as he spoke, church bells all over Haever started to ring in celebration of the victory.
“King Ullr has lost the element of surprise. He dare not wait for Hallen Day,” Randolph continued.
“He will launch his invasion as soon as he can make ready,” said Thomas, agreeing. “And we still have no idea where he will strike.”
“Yes, sir, we do,” Amelia stated. “That is what I came to tell the admiral. As I said, I have just arrived from speaking to Master Yates. He received your message, Admiral Baker, and he found your missing fleets.”
She took her leather notebook from her reticule and carried it over to stand in front of a large framed map of Freya that adorned one of the admiral’s walls. Amelia placed her finger on a dot on the coastline in the north of Freya.
“According to Simon, Ullr’s fleets are assembling here, not far from the city of Glenham. Master Yates calculates that the Guundarans have”—Amelia consulted the notebook—“thirty-two ships of the line. The smallest have sixty-eight guns; the largest, one hundred guns. And approximately sixteen heavy frigates.”
Her listeners absorbed this information. Randolph marched over to glare at the dot.
“Glenham’s in northern Freya. Why the devil would Ullr land an invasion force there? Why not Haever?”
Amelia was grave. “Because the ships do not intend to land, sir. Master Yates believes the Guundaran ships plan to sail south from Glenham”—Amelia drew a line with her finger—“to strike Haever from the north. Thus, they evade the city’s defenses.”
“But that means Ullr’s ship would have to sail over land! Tommyrot!” Randolph gave a violent snort. “Without the Breath to keep them afloat, those big, hulking Guundaran men-of-war wouldn’t get twenty miles! They’d sink like goddamn anvils.”
“Master Yates insisted upon that fact, sir. He said—and I quote: ‘Randolph will refuse to believe me, but you must convince him. The Braffans have supplied King Ullr with the crystalline form of the Breath. The Guundarans refitted their warships to use the crystals long before our navy. The Guundaran ships do not need to rely solely on the magic of the Breath.’”
Amelia turned away from the map, her expression grim. “Master Yates has more bad news, gentlemen. Your Majesty warned us that King Ullr acquired five green-beam guns. Five of the Guundaran ships are armed with these formidable weapons.”
“The Navy will deal with them,” said Randolph.
“The Guundarans do not plan to use them against our navy, Admiral,” said Amelia. “Master Yates has information that these five ships intend to attack Haever with green-beam guns. Ullr means to wage war on the civilian population. The green beams will rain death down from the heavens. Master Yates asks you to remember that a green beam leveled Sir Henry’s house with a single blast. Picture these heinous weapons striking tenements, boarding houses, the university, hospitals…”
Thomas was shaken. “I cannot believe even King Ullr could be so depraved as to attack civilians. Do you trust this information, Admiral?”
“He did so in Wellinsport, sir,” said Miss Amelia.
“I would trust Simon with my life, sir,” Randolph added. “In this instance, I will be trusting him with my life. The Valor will be in the thick of the fighting.”
Thomas was impressed by this argument, but still not entirely convinced. “I would like to know how Master Yates found these Guundaran ships while sitting in his parlor, when our own navy could not locate them.”
“Simon has agents all over the world, sir,” Randolph stated. “He reads every goddamn newspaper, magazine, communiqué, letter, and document that he can lay his hands on, foraging for clues. He puts together this and that to arrive at what and where and when.”
“In this instance, sir,” Amelia added, “I can tell you that he based his deductions on a variety of information, including a message in an agony column in the Guundaran newspaper the Morgenpost, a ‘to let’ notice in the same paper and a description of a dress worn to a party by a Freifrau von Puttkamer, whose husband is an admiral in the Guundaran navy.”
“You can’t be serious!” Thomas was incredulous.
“Henry termed Simon ‘Freya’s secret weapon,’ sir,” Randolph said gravely. “If Simon says the Guundaran ships are north of Glenham, the Guundaran ships are north of Glenham. If he says green-beam guns are going to attack Haever, they’re going to attack.”
“Very well,” said Thomas. “I do not know Master Yates, but I know you, Admiral. And I was present when King Ullr received word of the defeat in Wellinsport from Baron Grimm. He ordered the baron to take a message to this Admiral Schmidt. I do not know what the message was, but the baron rode off in great haste.”
“I can tell you what the message was, sir,” said Randolph. “Attack now. Hallen Day be damned.”
“I believe you are right, sir,” said Thomas. “How soon could the Guundaran ships be ready to sail?”
“If the ships are near Glenham, griffin riders could reach Admiral Schmidt’s flagship within hours, sir,” said Randolph. “The fleet commanders probably already have their orders to prepare for war. They could be ready to set sail as early as dawn tomorrow and arrive in Haever by late tomorrow afternoon.”
“Can we stop them?” Thomas asked.
Randolph shook his head. “No, sir. If the Valor sailed for Glenham this moment, we would have to travel round the eastern part of the continent. With a fair wind, we could be there in two days.”
“And that would leave Haever undefended, sir,” Ameila stated. “Easy prey for the green-beam guns.”
“We should make our stand at Haever, Your Majesty,” Randolph urged. “We can take advantage of the shore batteries, as well as the patrol boats. I propose we intercept the enemy north of the city.”
“That means our ships will have to sail over land,” said Thomas. “The Valor is the only ship already refitted to use the crystals. The others have only lift gas. Once they deplete their stores of lift gas, they will start to sink.”
Randolph gave a grim smile. “Don’t fret about that, sir. The battle will likely be over long before our lift tanks run dry.”
Thomas considered what he should do. Randolph regarded his king with sympathy. Ordering men to their deaths was an enormous burden to place upon such young shoulders.
“We must prepare our people for war,” Thomas said at last.
He walked over to Randolph’s desk, sat, and took up pen and paper and began to write. Randolph and Amelia discreetly withdrew to allow him to work in private.
“How is Simon?” Randolph asked.
“He is preparing to raise Welkinstead off the ground and return to Haever,” Amelia answered. “He has invented some sort of weapon he plans to use to fight the Guundaran ships.”
Randolph was alarmed. “I hope it’s not like those goddamn crackers of his. He nearly sank my goddamn ship!”
Thomas rose from the desk. “Miss Amelia, ask the editor of the Haever Gazette to put out a special edition informing our people that we are at war with Guundar and that the enemy intends to attack Haever. I have written a personal message to our people, instructing them to seek shelter below ground, assemble the fire brigades, and turn out the local militia.”
“Aren’t you afraid this news will start a panic, sir?” Amelia asked.
“The people of Haever do not frighten easily,” said Thomas, smiling. He handed the sheet of paper to Amelia, who read it aloud.
Citizens of Freya
We face a foe who is threatening to destroy our city. I have faith in your courage and bravery. Know your king will be fighting alongside you.
“I will join you on board the Valor, Admiral, if you will have me,” said Thomas.
Randolph hesitated. “Are you certain, sir? As I said, the Valor will be in the thick of the fighting.”
“I would expect nothing less,” said Thomas. He added with a frown, “You would not have me cower in the palace while my people are at war, would you, Admiral?”
“Of course, not Your Majesty. We will be honored to have you on board,” said Randolph, bowing.
Amelia continued to read.
In the event of my death, I name His Grace, Phillip Masterson, Duke of Upper and Lower Milton, heir to the Freyan throne. I have previously made my choice known to the Ascension Committee of the House of Nobles and since His Grace descends from Blanche Hunsmen, daughter of King Lionel, they have given their approval.
“An excellent choice, my lord,” said Amelia with a tremor in her voice. “We must pray it does not come to pass.”
She dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief from the reticule and loudly blew her nose. She then tucked the king’s message into her reticule, collected her coat and hat, and shouldered her umbrella.
“In case I meet that steward,” she said darkly. “Females not allowed!”
She held out her hand. “God save you, sir.”
“God save us all,” said Thomas gravely, shaking hands.
Randolph accompanied her to the door and closed it behind her.
“How many ships can the navy provide at such short notice for the city’s defense?” Thomas asked.
Randolph did some calculating. “Eight seventy-four-gun ships of the line, four sixty-four gun, and a single one-hundred-gun warship. Add to that a dozen gunboats and another dozen frigates. And the Terrapin.”
“The Terrapin?” Thomas repeated. “She must have sustained extensive damage in the battle, sir, and she is in the Aligoes. We cannot count upon her, more’s the pity.”
“Alan would not miss this fight if his goddamn ship was sinking underneath him,” Randolph predicted. “And even if it was at the bottom of the world, he’d still find a way.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I readily admit, I don’t like our odds, sir.”
Thomas rested his hand on Randolph’s shoulder. “Do not look so glum, Admiral. As Captain Northrop has proven, one Freyan ship is equal to five Guundarans.”
Randolph grunted, but he did smile.
“I have one more request, Admiral,” said Thomas before he departed. “I would like you to arrange for marines to replace the palace guard. I assume that King Ullr and his mercenaries will have packed their bags and departed, but we must not take chances.”
“If he hasn’t, we will pack their goddamn bags for them,” Randolph stated. “I’ll dispatch a force right away, sir.”
“Have the officer report directly to me,” said Thomas. “I will have additional orders for them.”
Randolph said nothing, though he thought he could guess as to the nature of those orders. He and Thomas shook hands. Thomas put on his hat, wound his scarf about his face, and left the Naval Club. The celebration had died down somewhat, as most of the officers had gone to their ships in anticipation that they would soon be called to action.
Randolph stood at the window to watch the young man make his solitary way down the street.
“I wish you were here to see our king, Henry,” Randolph said. “You would be proud of him.”
He clasped his hands behind his back and added with a gloomy shake of his head, “I applaud His Majesty’s courage, but, goddamn it, I wish he would hide himself in the palace. Cannonballs have no respect for crowned heads.”