LENA

Lena watched with wide eyes as the gangplank was lowered to the dock. Every direction gave her something to look at and wonder about. The dock at Atpost had been alarming enough, and it had been mostly e’Silean citizens wandering around. This dock was far more engrossing for her, as she saw endless slaves doing the work that she was accustomed to seeing women do. She heard their shouts and watched their progress with unparalleled concern. She had no idea how to interact with these people.

“What’s wrong?” Sirena asked, joining her at the railing and looking overboard at the working men.

“Nothing,” Lena lied. She forced her face to smile. She wrapped her arms around her sister, squeezing gently. “I am only nervous. How do you feel?”

Sirena nodded. “Nervous. And excited.” Her eyes scanned the dockyards and the busy men on the docks. “It’s really different than e’Silea.”

Lena shook her head slightly. “Not really. These men just don’t understand who they truly are.” She studied the men thoughtfully. “I wonder which is the King.”

Medora joined them, smiling. “The King will not meet us at the dock, sweets,” she cautioned as she slid herself into the space between the two girls.

Sirena looked scandalized. “He invited you and then refuses to greet you? What will people think?” Lena was likewise troubled by the apparent snub.

But Medora shook her head at them. “They do things differently here. According to the report I was given, it would not be considered ‘proper’ or ‘decent’ to meet us at the dockside. At Mainland, the respectful way is to invite someone to your temple in order to greet them properly.” At Lena’s puzzled expression, her mother only laughed. “I know. It will be an adjustment.” She kissed them gently, first one and then the other, on the side of the head.

“How are my two beautiful daughters holding up?”

“I am well,” Sirena answered, and Lena was grateful for her quick willingness to respond. Lena herself was not certain she could put into words how she was feeling, or please her mother if she did so. “I am ready to get off this ship, though. Already I dread the return ship, though it very likely won’t be for many years.” She groaned and slid her arms around her mother’s waist. “Oh, I am not meant to be a sailor. I have never been so grateful to smell dirt in my life.”

Medora chuckled at her and kissed her again. “Captain Aedon said she will be ready to let us disembark once she speaks to the dockmaster and shows her papers. No more than twenty minutes, I expect. Even now the slaves are bringing the luggage up.” She relinquished Sirena with the command, “Go supervise their progress, love. Make sure they bring up only the luggage marked for immediate removal. The larger crates will be attended to by Captain Aedon’s slaves and will be delivered to our new temple as soon as she gets an opening.”

When Lena would have followed her sister, Medora held her back. Looking intently into her face, Medora said, “Are you as unhappy as I suspect you to be, Lena? Has my move to the Mainland completely disrupted your plans for the future?”

Lena looked away from her mother, her emotions warring inside her. She felt disappointed, but also guilty for being so. Her mother’s reputation was sterling, and she had for many, many years been eligible for an Ambassadorial post. She deserved this, and Lena ought to have been supportive of her elevation. It seemed childish to be disheartened that her own future plans must necessarily be put on hold in favor of Medora’s post.

“I am sorry, Medora. I am so very happy for you, really.” She tried unsuccessfully to smile at her mother, but the older woman had eyes too knowing to allow her to lie. She turned away again and brushed the tears from her eyes. “I am very proud of you,” she said truthfully, though her tone was now affected by her tears.

Medora turned Lena toward her, embracing her tenderly. She stroked a hand through Lena’s curls and held her tightly for several moments.

“Baby,” Medora said at length. She stepped back, holding her daughter’s shoulders in her hands and looking down at her seriously. “I am not blind to your aptitudes. I know political life is not your wish, and that following me into my trade is not your expectation for your future. I have never expected you to apprentice-to-trade with me.”

Lena’s tears spilled over her lids. “I very much respect your work, Medora.”

“I know. I know that you do. But your ambitions are humbler, and I can respect that. I know your hopes are all for the Military. I know.”

Lena was startled from her tears, swallowing them down in a shock at hearing her mother voice aloud what Lena had never admitted to her. She blinked several times, looking into her mother’s eyes with surprise. Medora grinned at her.

“Baby doll, I raised you!” she cried in a tone that was at once scolding and playful. “I know where your aptitude lies. Also, I know how many times you sluffed off Classes to go peek in on military training at the Fire Branch. You will be a brilliant tactician, and I fully support your intention to go into Military training.”

Lena let out a heavy breath she did not know she had been holding. In a teasing voice, she said, “If we stayed in e’Silea, I need not have applied for your approbation, you know. There was a part of me, indeed, that thought perhaps you took this post to keep me away from the barracks.”

Medora laughed at her and gave her a playful swat. “Even if, by e’Silean law, you could enter the military without my permission, my own daughters are good enough wards that they will give me the courtesy of applying for my approbation in any trade they wish to enter.”

“Yes, Mama,” Lena replied in a mock-humbled voice, like a little child who had been scolded seriously by her mother.

Medora kissed her again and said, “Lena, I am not trying to keep you out of the e’Silean military. I intend to throw my full weight behind your application to them, and I have no doubt you will be accepted. But—and please listen to me completely before reacting in frustration—I truly believe you are too young to begin an apprenticeship. A few more years under my name and care will be to your benefit. I am not ready to relinquish you, though you have completed your Classes in record time. Even if we had stayed in e’Silea, I would have insisted you take a couple more years at home before starting your apprenticeship. Eighteen is too young.”

Lena sighed, because she could have guessed her mother would think this way. “If I leave my future up to you, you will keep me at home with you forever.”

Medora gave a self-deprecating chuckle and pulled Lena against her again. “True. But, dearest, please consider the education you can get in the Mainland. When you return to e’Silea to begin your apprenticeship—in perhaps three or four years—you will have a world of experience beyond what the other apprentices have. You will be best equipped to represent e’Silea in military efforts.”

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Lena backed away in dismay. “Three or four years? Medora, I just—”

Medora pressed her fingers against Lena’s lips and said firmly, “I will promise you this, Lena: I promise that in three years, if you are ready to begin your apprenticeship, I will take the journey back to e’Silea with you and see you rightfully installed in the Fires Barracks. Can you postpone your ambitions for only three years?”

It was a painful concession, but Lena sighed. She nodded in acquiescence. Medora kissed her in response and gave her a final squeeze. “Good girl. I promise you I will make your wait worthwhile.” She swatted her again. “Run go tell Ophira, Dido, and Venesssa that we will offload in a matter of minutes.”

“Yes, Medora,” Lena replied and obediently turned to do her mother’s bidding.

BROOKE

Brooke walked beside her brother, behind their mother as she approached a sleek-looking ship at harbor. It was the only ship at harbor, since the ship that brought Lady Carolyn and her household to Atpost left already. Little as Brooke knew about ships in general, she could tell this was a superior craft to any she had seen. It had three masts and was made of a dark wood with the word Aegis stenciled across the side in letters taller than Brooke herself. The sails were furled, and rigging all stowed, but she had no doubt it would be a beautiful sight when seen at full strength on the sea.

“Is this our ship?” Truman asked. Brooke looked up at him in surprise for the doubtful tone of his voice.

“Yes,” Lady Carolyn answered. “Hait had it from the dockmaster this morning.”

Hait was their servant, the one who had been charged to walk to the docks every day to see what ships came into harbor.

“About time, too,” Truman answered back coolly. Brooke understood his frustration. They arrived at Atpost over two months before. They were informed by letter from e’Silea that a ship would come into harbor specifically to take them the last leg of the journey. At the time, Truman was pleased by the notion, but the excessive wait dulled the pleasure immensely. They waited the first week in a hotel but, at Truman’s urging, eventually took a house. He was unhappy with the crowd in Atpost, rugged and uncouth as they all seemed to be. He insisted his mother and sister should not be exposed any further to their vulgarity. Lady Carolyn reluctantly took a house, even though she was certain every morning would bring the ship to take them to e’Silea. Yet, every morning, Hait returned with the same news: no e’Silean ship at harbor. Lady Carolyn began to despair of ever getting to e’Silea at all.

“Yes,” she said sharply, with one chiding glance over her shoulder at her son. “But we must make allowances for differences of culture and understanding, Lord Storm. Though the handsome letter I received from the ruling council of e’Silea assured me that I would ‘soon’ be sent a ship to bring me to them, I suppose the ideas of time may be calculated at different rates for some than for others. I must suppose they either were prevented setting out sooner, or have a different understanding of the word ‘soon’ than I have. We must prepare ourselves for many customs to differ.”

Truman gave his mother a rebellious look for a moment, before smoothing his features and softening his tone. “You are right, of course. I ought not to allow my impatience to get the better of me. Yet, it is hard to imagine that ‘soon’ could be interpreted as ‘ten weeks’ by any custom.”

Lady Carolyn’s expression seemed to agree with him. Brooke exerted herself to speak up. “We must not suppose that an entire country who lives by the slave trade can have many correct notions, in something even as small as time. Yet, we are here under the King’s service, and are, therefore, at their mercy. We must bear it.”

Lady Carolyn paused in step to give her daughter a long, affectionate look. “Indeed. So we shall.” She glanced down at Truman’s arm, which had slackened as a support for his sister’s arm, giving it a firm nod. “Attend your sister more carefully, my son, and let us keep our complaints in until we are alone again.”

Truman’s arm strengthened beneath Brooke’s, and he gave her an apologetic smile. They continued to follow their mother out onto the busy dock. Truman’s arm helped support her, but despite his presence, she was still the recipient of uncouth looks and occasional shouts from dock workers. Her cheeks colored when she heard the foul words, and she kept her eyes down, hoping her hat could shield her from the worst of them.

“They ought to be whipped,” Truman murmured in fury, but his comment only made her blush harder.

Lady Carolyn glanced again over her shoulder at them and murmured, “I apologize for exposing you to this uncouth attention, my dear. Would you rather return to the carriage? Your brother would attend you, I am certain.”

He would, because it would be his duty, but Brooke knew it would give him pain not to attend their mother all the way out to the ship. She straightened her spine and whispered, “I refuse to hear the vulgar words of the ignorant, Mother. I would very much like to meet the captain along with you.”

Before Lady Carolyn could answer, a commanding shout interrupted their private conference.

“Oi! Are you calling for my attention, little boys?” a woman’s bold shout cut through the vulgar catcalls from the dock workers. “Were you looking to be trussed up and trained for my slave?”

Brooke watched the woman with wide eyes. She was unlike anyone Brooke had ever seen. She was tall, taller than Truman, even, with a large frame. She was as wide as two of Brooke, with a stronger presence than even the king could have. Her hair was shaved on both sides but had some length on top. It was a short crop of unnaturally purple curls that glistened in the morning sun. She wore a black lacy top that covered only her breasts, and had on trousers. These were not trousers like any Brooke had ever seen on a man. These were tight, black cloth, that hugged the rolls of the woman’s skin. The entire ensemble was covered in a sheer silver robe that hid nothing. Indeed, it showed tattoos on the woman’s arms, on her shoulders, across the top of her breasts, down both sides. Brooke found herself blushing again, but at the same time unable to turn her face away from the fearless creature.

Under the woman’s fiery rebuke, the cajoling men slunk down and slipped away. Brooke’s astonishment redoubled as she saw them submit to the woman’s fierce words and try to slip away from her. Despite the odd attire, the woman’s grand airs made Brooke think only of royalty. Was this the very queen they had been sent to attend?

She stopped when she was directly in front of Lady Carolyn, who paused to greet her.

“Are you the Ambassador of Haslett?” the woman asked. When she was not shouting, she had a warming, deep voice.

“I am,” Lady Carolyn replied, lifting her chin somewhat. “I am Lady Carolyn Storm.”

The other woman laughed, a bold laugh that caught Brooke and her entire family by surprise. It was not unkind, she realized right away, but neither was it gentle.

“We’ll be taking a Storm aboard our ship? Best not tell my crew your name or they’ll see bad omens in it.” The woman held out a hand toward Lady Carolyn and said, “I’m Naia of The Aegis. And for your safety and respect, you had better take the name Carolyn of Capitol.”

When Lady Carolyn stared at the woman’s outstretched hand, clearly unsure what she was meant to do with it, the bold woman reached out and clasped her hand, guiding her to pump it up and down. “Like this,” she said in a jovial, teaching tone. “The way adult women greet one another in e’Silea. How do I greet you in your own way?”

Lady Carolyn recovered her composure with her hand and gave a faint smile. “I am greeted usually with a curtsy and ‘m’lady,’ as I am of a noble house. Yet, I think I should adjust to the ways of your land since I am to be a guest there.” She stepped aside slightly. “May I introduce my children?”

Naia of The Aegis held up a cautioning hand. “You may, but only your daughter, if you please. In e’Silea it is considered bad form for a stranger to look at another woman’s slaves.”

Lady Carolyn could not control her discomposure as she answered, “I have no slaves, Lady Naia, I assure you.”

Naia smiled. “I mean no insult. Let me try again: your daughter is…?”

When Carolyn presented her, Brooke stepped forward, relinquishing her brother’s arm. “Lady Brooke Storm.”

The woman reached a hand out, but instead of trying to shake it as she had her mother’s, she swiped an affectionate hand down the side of her face and tapped her under the chin.

“She’s a lovely girl,” Naia declared, speaking to Carolyn rather than Brooke. “Young yet?”

“I’m nearly eighteen,” Brooke asserted. Quite old enough not to be petted like a little child.

The woman tapped her under the chin again and laughed. “Bold as brass, too, I see. Good. You’ll do well in e’Silea, Brooke of Carolyn.” Without waiting for another word, she turned back to Carolyn and said, “We’ve been sent to collect you and bring you the last leg of the journey into e’Silea.” She presented the giant ship behind her, as if there was any need to point it out to them. “But as long as you’re on board, please consider Aegis an extension of e’Silean soil. In other words,” she added with a wink toward Brooke, “Welcome home.”