Kingdom Of Royth

«A ship! A ship!»

As always, Blade was fully awake in an instant. He sat up, turned, and looked at the approaching ship. It was already hull-up, and even at a distance he could see that it was enormous, with three tall masts each carrying three square sails and a fourth mast with a single triangular lateen sail perched aft. The high-sided hull gleamed with gilding and dark blue and red paint.

«That's a ship of Royth, sure enough,» muttered Brora. «A royal warship, indeed.» He looked vaguely disturbed as he said that.

«Is that unusual?» asked Blade.

«Nay, nay. Royth has a good fleet, tho' no as large as it ought to be, for the safety o' her coasts and shipping. But ye seldom see a royal warship sailin' by herself in these waters. Ay well, there's naught to be gained by frettin' over what we can't help.» He turned away to rummage a signal rocket out of its tarred-canvas casing in the bottom of the boat, leaving Blade to wonder again what those cryptic remarks might mean. Brora, he had already discovered, was a man who was very sparing with words.

If Brora had intended to imply that the ship might be a pirate's prize, he was wrong. The signal rocket arched up and went off in a flurry of green smoke. A few minutes later another rocket rose up in reply from the ship as she came about. Half an hour later they were alongside her. Blade stared up at the immense height of her sides to the peak of her tallest mast, where a black ba

Somebody stuck a black-bearded face farther over the railing and yelled down:

«Ahoy, the boat! Who be ye?»

«Survivors of Krim's Blacksnake. She and Malfor's Trident met pirates not far from here six days a-gone. Both burned, but we sank one pirate and burned t'other three.»

Cheers exploded from the deck above at Brora's words. Beardface was silent, though, and shouted back:

«Can ye prove this? We know not if'n ye be pirates yourselves, set adrift to be picked up and betray us from wi'in.» The cheers died, to be replaced by apprehensive grumbling.

«WHAAAAT?» exploded Brora. «By Druck's seaweed-covered prick, I'll skin ye for that! Know ye not Brora Lanthal's son?»

More muttering and grumbling. Then the crowd of faces at the railing gave way as a tall gray-haired man stepped into view and stared down at the boat with piercing black eyes. He wore a black tunic with the same five red castles on the chest as Blade had seen on the ship's ba

Brora took one look at the man and quickly knelt. «My Lord Duke! This then be your ship?»

«Yes, but why I am aboard it and it is here is a story best told before fewer ears.» The duke glared about him and Blade saw most of the heads abruptly disappear. «Captain, I know this Brora Lanthal's son. He and any with him have my countenance as honest men.»

«But m'lord-«began the bearded face who had first spoken.

«Captain, I am still a Grand Duke of Royth,» said the duke coldly. Blade saw the captain's mouth shut abruptly. Moments later a rope ladder sailed over the railing and dropped down the side of the ship. And a few moments after that, Blade, Brora, and the other ten men from the boat were standing securely on the ship's deck, just forward of the mainmast.

CHAPTER 4

The man in black turned out to be the Grand Duke Khystros, younger brother to King Pelthros of Royth. Blade was sufficiently self-assured to feel no uneasiness at confronting such a high-ranking individual in his burlap loincloth and sunburned skin. And Khystros had a relaxed, no-nonsense ma

After a few sharp questions, Khystros ordered the first mate to take the other survivors forward and see that they were fed, clothed and attended. Then he led Blade, Brora, and the captain down into his own cabin aft. There he dismissed the waiting attendants. With his own hands he rummaged clothing, shoes, and salves out of huge brassbound chests racked along one wall of the cabin. After that, he sat down in a light folding chair of delicately carved wood and black canvas, fixed Brora with an inquiring glance, and said:

«Well, Brora Lanthal's son. I judge you have a tale to tell. I'm listening.»

Brora had been as nervous as a patient in a dentist's waiting room at the prospect of being questioned by such an exalted person. But under Khystros' calming influence, he told his story completely, quickly, and well. The duke mostly listened in silence, only injecting a question now and then. When Brora had finished, the duke nodded his thanks and turned to look at Blade.

«Well, Master-Blahyd?» He pronounced it in two syllables, and Blade realized that he would have to go through this Dimension answering to this mispronunciation.

«That's close enough, sir.»

«No doubt. You claim to be a footloose mercenary from the south-a rather vague place of origin, I must say. Are there many like you-in the 'south'?» The duke's skepticism about Blade's story was evident in his voice.

Blade knew he had only a split second to decide how to answer. Khystros' keen wits would detect the slightest hesitation on his part, and then the fat would be in the fire. He put the thought aside, took a deep breath, and said, «Not many, sir. I'm better than most.»

«One rather hopes so,» said the duke drily. «If the south-or wherever you hail from-is swarming with fighting men who can kill a dozen Neral pirates singlehandedly, a southern army could gobble up all the Four Kingdoms and the island of Neral as easily as a cat gobbles up a mouse. However, that's not our concern now.» He turned his head slightly. «Alixa! Some wine for our guests, if you please.»

The woman who came out of the curtained doorway at the rear of the cabin was obviously Khystros' daughter. The family resemblance was unmistakable. She was as tall as her father, only a few inches shorter than Blade, who was well over six feet, and as slim and fine-boned as a thoroughbred horse. The face framed by great masses of blueblack hair was high-cheeked, with a broad mobile mouth now curved in a welcoming smile and large gray eyes that were appraising Blade with frank interest. She was silent as she sped about the cabin, taking down leather wine bottles and chased silver cups, filling the cups, and handing them to the three men. Then she folded herself gracefully down onto a cushion by the door and listened while her father explained to Blade the sad situation of the Kingdom of Royth and of himself as well.

The pirates of Neral were indeed waxing stronger and fiercer each month and year, as Brora had said. Never before, in fact, had so large a force as the four galleys that had attacked Blacksnake and Trident been seen so far south. It was good that the pirates had paid so heavily for their victory. Perhaps this would make them think before sending a squadron so far afield again.

But it would take far more than one affair of mutual slaughter to beat back the threat from Neral forever. The pirate island was the base for some two hundred warships plus supporting vessels, ma

But what if their road were smoothed for them by treachery? That was another story. And there was treachery afoot in Royth itself. Khystros had no proof of this certain enough to lay before King Pelthros. But he knew to his own complete satisfaction that Count Indhios, High Chancellor of the Kingdom of Royth, was in the pay of the Neralers. It was obvious that if the pirates could take, by force or treachery, one of the Four Kingdoms and add its resources to their own, they would become the rulers of the Ocean and arbiters of the fate of all who lived by it or traveled on it. The stakes in the game they were playing were enormous, but so was the prize they might win.