--- Jilt Vogel, Second Mate of the Wave Piercer.

I roll the two stone dice within the sweating closed palm of my right hand while disembarking from the ship behind the crew. As the Captain hurried off with our three guests, he would expect me to get the ship sail worthy and I don’t intend to disappoint him. Crew or no crew.

“Boatswain Smedt, take three crew with you and secure food for at least seven days for thirty-two mouths.” The crew looks about, trying to do a quick headcount. “Count Ottar as three.”

The entire crew crowding the wharf chuckles as I hand him a pouch of gold coin bits and hope he has enough. The giant was scary at first, intimidating, yet his heroics to save us all from the sea monster will forever be in our hearts. We know the Captain wants to ensure he remains for his purposes. For us, his presence means a higher chance of survival when we need to return to the ocean.

He tugs his forelock. “I will do my best, you know that, but we don’t know the value of things here, so could take some time.”

“Do your best,” I say as he weighs the bag in his hand. With purpose in his step, he heads off down the wharf towards the village with a three crew escort. I scan the remaining crew before me and find who I am after. “Van Aken and Carstens, take an inventory of sail and rope. You need to be done before Smedt returns, so if you need anything, he can go to the village again and make the trades.”

They glance at each other and then try to speak at the same time. An odd chuckle here and there from the rest of the crew breaks out as Carstens slaps Van Aken and stares him down. Van Aken shrugs and waves his hand, inviting Carstens to speak. I squeeze the dice in my hand, the sharp corners jab at my flesh and with the distraction, I hold back my laughter as should the one in command.

“Second Mate, we are no ship’s Ropemaker or Sailmaker? We assisted as Mates, but not much more…”

Van Aken nods in eager agreement.

“If not you, who? Those with the experience and skill are dead. You spent the most time with them, so must have learnt more than any of us now standing on this dock,” I reply. I had no choice but to guilt them. Heads down, they board the ship, a dark cloud of accepting silence hanging over them, I suspect.

“Second Mate,” calls Woudman from the deck of the ship.

I lean over the edge of the wharf to make eye contact with our Carpenter. “Yes?”

“Some caulking needs doing and some other minor repairs. Can I have some crew to assist? My Caulker and Carpenter’s Mate are no longer with us, as you know, and I sense the Captain is in a hurry.”

I point out five crew, ignore their protests like I did Carstens and Van Aken, and they board the ship. The crew accept my authority, yet they didn’t vote for me and only trust me because Quartermaster Bleecker appointed me. He, like the First Mate, died on a beach on a faraway continent, their bones forever there. I hope I have learnt enough from observing Bleecker…

“Vanderpool, divide the rest of the crew into three watches and make sure none sleep on duty while they guard the ship night and day.” I cast my gaze over the remaining crew. “No ship, no home.”

“Will I break out the proper weapons or stick with cudgels?”

I place my hands on my hips and wonder why he asks me. “You are Master At Arms. Is this a friendly port?”

“Maybe, don’t rightly know…”

“You have your answer then,” I say.

He turns to face the rest of the crew, stealing a last glance at me when he does. “Three watches, swords and billhooks.”

Warm dice in my hands have me wondering if they are hot. I have a few personal coins to use as a stake and mull over my chances. I tap one sailor on his shoulder and tip my head in the village's direction. Arend Lange shrugs and follows. Gambling is always safer with a lookout, especially one with the eyes of a hawk.

--- Alba, Priestess of Aphrodite POV.

I lean across to the Chief Governor and whisper in his ear, “Even if they restock, I am certain we can delay them by withholding certain vital supplies.” The governor nods and murmurs in agreement, so I continue. “We can inspect the fleets from afar and be back in time to render any judgement or decree upon the Captain and his passengers and, in the meantime, appear magnanimous.”

“We have time on our side for now at least,” he whispers in reply. Then his attention returns to Cardinal Pex. “You can leave. The governors need to attend to island business.”

Cardinal Pex’s head drops slightly and then she swivels and leaves the foyer. Those waiting then surge forward in a disorderly order—there is a line somewhere, no, there are five lines, except none line up before me. I assume I am the new governor, the unknown, whereas the others are familiar, as would be their judgements. So, I eavesdrop and am relieved to discover the Council assigns each governor several scribes. These consult a ledger of rules for precedent upon hearing the case and advise the Governor. Also, one scribe writes in any additions or exceptions to the ledger, which I assume they copy overnight, or at least before the next island session, to all the other ledgers.

As the last petitioner leaves, the Chief Governor approaches me.

“Don’t worry, lass, you have three strikes against you for now. You are new, you are new, and you are new.” He chuckles and rocks back on his heels.

“Oh, good to know, I thought being female and inexperienced would be the main issues.”

He stops his rocking and plants his boots on the stone floor. “They will be only if you make them so. You must remember, blood is blood, and your authority is as time honoured as any who now sit upon the Council. We tussle amongst ourselves at times, but never in front of our petitioners.” He folds his arms across his chest. “There is nothing wrong with deferring a decision to the full Council and typically your attendant will advise of such if they can’t find a precedent in the ledger. You, though, must decide on the more difficult dilemma, where there is a precedent and perhaps in the case you are hearing, the precedent is wrong, doesn’t apply or a new one needs to be created, or worse, the decision will impact one or more members of the Council.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Words, nothing more than words. Rely upon your attendants for guidance, to begin with, defer judgements if you harbour any doubts. The Council will prefer and accept that, rather than clean up afterwards.” He takes a step away and then returns. “The attendants will try to take advantage of you or not, to begin with, although they are the sons and daughters of those on the Council in the main, so they won’t stray too far from precedent and good advice as their future may depend upon trust.”

I observe him stroll away, visit each cluster of hangers-on, a Governor at the centre of attention of each. His bald head confronts a voluminous head of golden blonde locks. Their heads cross and fall back, and their boisterous laughter dominates the room. He moves on to a second Governor, with slicked-down dark grey hair, a distinctive, severe look and the two heads I note do maintain a respectful distance apart. No mirth, robust discussion, or at least something similar. The next he leads in with a warm smile before all I can see is his bald head in the gathering, facing a head of stringy golden blonde hair. Yet they stand close to each, although not breaking out into laughter like with the first blonde.

During his time with the last Governor, I continue to wait in my designated chair, noting those chairs which remained empty during and after the Council Meeting. They are replicas of the five upon which the current Council sits. Are they spare?

“Excuse me, miss.”

Her light, pure voice captures my heart. A fresh, youthful face greets mine as I turn to discover the owner. “Yes?”

“My mother tells me you are Allene Corser. Is that true?”

I know I frown, yet the question is odd. “Yes.”

Her eyes flash wide and bright and she asks, “Will you be likely to die in the next six years?”

“I… well, why do you ask?”

“I will be sixteen then and be able to claim father’s governor’s chair, but I will need you to be dead.”

While I try to find a reply, an older male youth grabs my delightful visitor by the shoulders and leans forward over her.

“She is a kidder. Ignore her.” He drags her away squealing a protest… “Father promised me…”

“I see you have met your forthright and some would say, ambitious half-sister.”

It takes all the control I have not to jump out of my boots. Everything except that cold-hearted child consumed my attention. I was Gar and I know the fight for survival amongst hundreds of siblings, many of whom aren’t individuals who you know or develop family bonds with. Yet, this never-before-seen human girl wishes for my death.

I struggle to reply, “Half-sister?”

“Your father wanted a son, so he sowed his seed widely. He favoured mothers like hers who begat a male, like that youth by a previous husband or consort, shall we say? Women are jealous creatures I have found. His murderers stabbed the flesh of his drunken body in more places than it wasn’t. No witnesses, yet his bloodied corpse was found on the main track between the harbour and the settlement.” He raises his eyebrows for dramatic effect and then lowers them. “On this island, she is the eldest of his loins, always under escort, and your father’s script claiming her of his blood is in the ledgers. No others have come forth, yet we know there are more, and they will most definitely be female. Any males and I am certain your father would have dealt with any older unsuitable claimants.”

I am glad I didn’t live this body’s life. Humans place a great deal of value on family and this one, from birth, endured a father who despised her simply for not being male. A slap on my arm brings me out of my thoughts.

“Come. Time to do some far-seeing, to see what we can see!” His eyes sparkle. I believe he enjoys this game of governorship, especially when the odds seem impossible. Was his toying with the Cardinal, simply that. A whimsy? Is that his true character, simply poke and prod at people with questions, challenging their truths, beliefs, and appearance, always disbelieving them to enjoy what falls from the tree he shakes?

His face is in mine. “You are deep in thought?”

“I…”

“You are trying to find an explanation for my questioning of your Cardinal?” He holds his hand up as I open my mouth to protest. “You and the Cardinal have a bond. I understand this, and I fully expect you to tell her what I am about to tell you.”

I slowly nod.

“Your Cardinal decided, of her own free will to intervene and save my Island Queen and our babes. There was no bargain struck before she did this, so I accepted her generosity. Therefore, there is no debt between us. In the foyer, before the Council, my questioning and doubt were purely a means to protect these islands. Her race, appearance, and any vulnerabilities are all to use so I can chip away, to break down the mask she wears, that we all wear, to determine her true designs.”

“What if the Cardinal failed? One or more of your babes died or your Island Queen?” My voice is thin. The direct question needed to be asked, yet possibly dangerous.

He chuckles. “You still don’t understand. There was no bargain. I accepted her generosity and therefore, any good or bad was at my risk. Even when the Council’s Guards wanted to arrest her, I waved them away.”

My mouth dries, yet I have moisture enough to ask, “Even if the mother and all the babes had died, because there was no bargain, and you accepted her attendance you would have me believe the Cardinal would have been able to walk away with her life?”

“Definitely. Why do you think my wife withdrew after I spoke to her? As a concession to her, I asked if the Cardinal would stay…” He flashes me a cheeky grin. “If I truly wanted such an outcome, I could have added something like, ‘if you agree to stay, what would be your conditions, payment…’ but I didn’t and neither did the Captain who is acutely aware of our bargaining way. I suspect he needs your Cardinal with him for his purposes, which does not include lingering on these islands.”

I know I open my mouth, yet I didn’t speak. He pats my shoulder. The Captain probably needs Ottar more than the Cardinal, more than me. He knows where the Cardinal travels, the Frost Giant is certain to follow.

“This island has limited resources. Generosity is a luxury only affordable between the trustworthy, which I will add is not always family. The bargain ensures agreed payment and failure consequences for trading goods or services.”

“What if I must leave with my Cardinal?”

He quirks an eyebrow. “I would hope you return within six years, as I suspect your half-sister will be intolerable on the Council. We haven’t slain one of our own yet and I would hate the first to be under my governorship.” He chuckles as my face turns sour.

“I will try,” I say without conviction.

---

I suck in as much air as my lungs will accept while I lean against a convenient boulder. Glimpses of the winding set of steps snaking up the mountainside which delivered me to my current location makes my heart beat stronger. He told me to look at the next step and only the next step. Take that step and find the next.

“Well done for your first time, Governor Allene Corser.”

The amusement in his voice stings, although given I have arrived safely because of his sound advice, I can’t begrudge him some reward at my expense.

“A moment and I will cast my magic.”

The stone ledge underfoot isn’t at the peak of the mountain, although commanding. All the Council are present, and I suspect any absence would reflect badly on the offending Governor.

Amongst the fleeting island breeze, another smell infiltrates my nose, drawing me away from the boulder to join my fellow Governors. They gather around a modest campfire with an open metal pail nestled amongst the embers. Peeking inside reveals boiling water.

“Here,” he says while presenting me with a fired clay mug full of a steaming brownish liquid.

The smell wafting from the mug as I accept his offering, confirms the source of the smell which drew me.

“Hot and the bitter taste takes time to appreciate.” Again, a smirk follows his words.

I nod, blow, and take a minute sip. I shake my head, drawing good-hearted laughter from my fellow Governors, who I assume waited on the moment of my first taste like hunters stalking prey.

“Perhaps this will help,” the Chief Governor says. He holds a spoon full of grains. They look like beach sand, yet larger.

“I will need something.”

He drops the granules into my mug and then stirs the liquid several times, finishing by tapping the spoon on the side of the cup and nodding for me to try another sip.

My next sip sends a signal of pure delight to my tongue, no bitterness, pure sweetness, and I am certain my wide eyes confirm my pleasure.

“The first is called coffee. We have several trees which we harvest. The second is sugar, which grows inside a plant that looks like giant grass. Both are unique to our islands, which we forbid others taking away, and if caught, we usually fine them an inordinate amount, so once they pay, they can try again.”

“Try again?”

“We don’t doubt some theft has been successful, yet in all the years none have heard of either being traded in the Empire or the Kingdoms, so we suspect the soil, rainfall, heat or all of them a significant factor.”

I take another sip and shiver in delight.

My mug is half empty when he calls me to cast my magic and there is energy in each of my steps. My mind is clear and active. I peer into my mug and wonder about the brown liquid, then I gulp down the remaining half a cup before joining him.

I cast [Far Sight] on each Governor and then myself. They all gasp.

“Don’t move to get any closer, otherwise you may run out of ledge,” I say.

The island ship greeting the Empire Fleet slides alongside the one flagship. A tall human in a smart uniform with many decorations meets our representative, sharing food and drink on the top deck. The island ship meeting the Kingdom Ship greets several ships before they decide on one and our Captain, waits on its deck, pacing.

The Chief Governor speaks first, “The Empire has the one Admiral, while the Kingdom has a joint command of several and they will take time gathering.”

“What is our offer?” I ask.

“It will depend upon their stated intentions and their unstated intentions. Initially, an invitation for one ship, unless they bargain two ships to dock at the islands. Our merchants depend on visits, so we must weigh up any benefit against risk. The risk, of course, is if the crews of the two fleets take to fighting each other while on our island.”

“Have either the Empire or Kingdoms gathered such big fleets before?” I ask.

“No. Not in my lifetime and there is no such entry in the journals. There are too many ships to weigh anchor here and believe we can re-supply them. Your Captain said his lookout spotted livestock on the desks of some ships, which hints they will move on.”

“To the Northern Continent?”

He doesn’t answer because he doesn’t need to answer. What other destination is there? This world has a northern and southern continent, and between them is a vast ocean. A single group of islands clinging to survival by ensuring a minimalist population is their sole link.

“The Empire Fleet!” shouts one governor. “The rear ships have oars out and they scatter…”

“There!” shouts another and we need to blink to bring our vision close and then follow his outstretched arm for the direction.

The sea boils with creatures, sea monsters, long, undulating with enormous heads slicing through the seas. Another is all limbs, which engulf an entire ship from below.

“They are easy targets, dead in the water. The sea creatures don’t need to chase…” says a third Governor, awe in his voice.

“What of our ships?” asks the Chief Governor.

The island ship near the Empire flagship is all oars out and rowing backwards. Our emissary on the flagship deck has waved them off and now runs the length of the Empire Ship and dives into the sea!

“Mad son of a mangy dog,” mutters the dark-grey haired Governor.

“He is safe. The crew threw him a rope and they now haul him in. His warning got them underway early,” I say.

“Are they going to row backwards all the way?” asks another, thin strands of his gold blonde hair catching in the random eddies of island breeze.

“Mad I tell you, nothing surer.”

“Enough Governor Purdon Bottan, Captain Pinfold knows the value of our ship,” says the Chief Governor and all banter stops.

“Please confirm what I think I am seeing?” says another.

We sense he means the Kingdom Fleet. If this wasn’t so new, I suspect two would have watched the Empire Fleet, two the Kingdom Fleet and the Chief Governor called to watch the priority of the two as and when required. Next time, I say to myself.

The Kingdom fleet has oars out and is heading towards our islands. Our ship is trying to manoeuvre, and the wakes of the ships nearby are disrupting the attempt or denying them room.

“Stroke backwards fools.”

“Governor Romer Marchand, please light three beacons. We must prepare the Island to repel boarders,” orders the Chief Governor.

“On my honour Chief Governor Dyce Lamot! On my honour.”

With his thin golden hair trailing behind him, he dashes across the ledge, making for the steps, shortly after disappearing.

“Do you believe the danger is that great? The Kingdom fleet will wreck themselves as they try to enter the island circle in panic,” says Governor Purdon.

“Observe.” The Chief Governor points towards the Kingdom Fleet.

The Kingdom fleet separates. A small portion of their ships continues onwards, making for the narrow western entrance, the same one our captain utilised. The rest head north, where they have several options. The Empire ships circle and try to ram the creatures. For every success, another two or three sea monsters join the bloodbath as the ocean, without wind and current, leaves the blood to pool in place.

“Dyce, look there, beyond the last ship of the Empire Fleet,” yells and points the Governor with the full head of gold-blonde hair.

We locate the bobbing heads of livestock in the ocean, which disappear one by one.

“Allene, did your ship lookout spy any animals on the Kingdom Fleet ships?” asks Dyce.

I jump when he calls my name and automatically shake my head. That is right, I am certain. The Empire ships did, yet the Kingdoms ship didn’t, or they hid the animals well.

He nods his head while deep in thought. “I believe the animal waste left a trail behind the Empire Ships when they reached the calm. This then led a huge number of sea creatures to their fleet. The Kingdom Fleet must have packed salted meat, pickled apples, or similar foods instead. Both have merits, of course. The Empire plan speaks of permanent settlement, while the Kingdom suggests exploration and then evaluation. Once they find an ideal location, then they will return, because without stock, how are they to live while they await the first crop to mature?”

“Are you certain Chief Governor,” says Governor Purdon, his hands squirming at his waist.

“Certain? No. What I know for now is that by some miracle there will be survivors from the Empire Fleet, if for no other reason than the sea monsters must stop eating when they are full. The first ships sunk carried livestock, so it remains to be seen if they will attack the troop ships.”

“Chief Governor, the Kingdom Fleet separates again, over half head north, away from our island, I assume, trying to make landfall on the northern continent. The rest head towards our northern entrance.”

With urgency in his voice, the Chief Governor says, “Bindon, count their ships, eventually we will be blind to them.”

At that moment, three blazes roar to life, their flames licking the underneath of the platform. Below, with the benefit of [Far Sight], I can observe the island settlement sprint to heed the warning signal. From the walls of the open tunnel, they haul and sink sheets of stone between the wharf posts, effectively walling off any landing attempt. Teams of men using rope haul blocks of stone to the water’s edge, fortifying the modest beachfront. Our captain’s ship remains tied to the wharf yet abandon and subject to whatever conflict develops there. I can almost imagine our captain in tears.

Governor Romer returns and hugs Dyce. Dyce directs him to observe the Empire Fleet.

Before my magic fails, I recast [Far Sight] on all present.

“Chief Governor, the Kingdom Fleet is sailing past the western entrance…”

“They are using the mountains on one side for protection. The sea monsters charge through a ship, so they wouldn’t enjoy the sudden stop on the landward side…”

Governor Purdon adds, “A portion of the Empire Ships follows the Kingdom Ships heading towards the western entrance.”

“I can confirm. Also, some ships are trailing rope, trying to rescue men from the ocean. Such a risk if a sea monster entangles in the rope,” says Governor Romer.

“Start climbing down the stairs, Governor Purdon. While our people know what to do, it will hearten them when they can see a Governor amongst them. We only wait to confirm the number of ships and which entrance they take, and we will follow. Take care.”

A curt nod and Governor Purdon rushes to the stairs and, shortly after, disappears.

His hands are on my shoulders. “Wait a while longer to ensure he is well ahead of you. Then begin your descent. The three of us left are the mountain goats of the Council. We will catch you up.”

I nod, and he releases me. Returning to my boulder, I observe him checking between Bindon and Romer. He glances back and winks. I take that as a signal and begin my long climb down.

--- Pex, Cardinal of Aphrodite POV

“Have you secured everything we need, Vogel?”

“Yes, Captain. I put out the word and the men should return shortly.”

The Captain nods and his second mate hurries off back into the village.

“Where is he going now?” I ask.

“He will round up the few who dally. We should check the ship for the crew.”

He glances at Ottar, and I understand. We will need a minimum to help our Frost Giant to board and also time. Something to be done before urgent need, not during or after.

“Boat Ahoy!”

The Captain is the first to spy the interloper and then others, pointing to assist still more islanders.

“[Far Sight] Cardinal if you please?”

I cast [Far Sight] on the three of us, Ottar, the Captain and me.

“Is the boat’s rudder damaged? They row too close to the centre and the boiling water which awaits them.”

We all lean away on instinct, somehow thinking our efforts influence the boat’s course. Then one side of the boat’s oars lifts out of the water and the boat swings away from certain death. Shortly after, the other side of oars, rise out of the water. The boat continues towards us on the circuit of rising hot water, which spills out and then cools. The men aboard slump against the gunwales and as they come closer into view, chapped lips and sunburnt skin is common among them. These are lucky survivors of a shipwreck, I realise.

Two boats with half crew launch from the wharf to intercept them and Ottar and I watch in fascination.

“I will round up my crew Cardinal, we leave shortly.”

“Yes,” I answer as I wave him on.

“Come Ottar.” He glances at me as I step away. I find a large shady tree to stand under and, with him beside me in the shade, we continue our vigil.

The two boats attempt to transfer the survivors. Few seem to have the energy to respond, so they throw water skins to them and attach a rope each to the prow of the survivors’ boat. The two boats tow the survivors to the wharf. The islanders on the wharf remove a stone barricade to unload the survivors through, although one in the middle of the survivor’s boat refuses all help, insisting they should help his crewmates first.

Finally, he is the last, and he leaps towards the wharf, others try to assist by grabbing his arms, yet they don’t seem to make much of a difference, and the man himself strugglers, until finally flopping onto the stone wharf and rolling away from the edge.

“He makes the boat sink like Ottar does,” whispers Ottar in my ears.