Voyage

Not long later, Madeleine, originally having seemed almost catatonic with fear and shock, comes around.

"Gods!" the Dauphine exclaims, a ragged outburst of pure terror. "What is happening here? You can't do this!"

The crew of Einar's vessel greet her fear with laughter. The Serpent King himself turns to regard her.

"Be calm, good lady. Make no trouble for us, and you'll not be harmed. You have my word." Einar tells her.

"And what good is the word of an honourless dog like you, Andersson?" roars a voice from your side. Stiffly craning your neck, you see Gerhard, the Deanian raider turned Sinnabarrovian baron bound beside you, as well as a mousy-haired young man you're unfamiliar with.

Einar's gaze bounces from Madeleine to the Deanian expatriate.

"Baron Gerhard." he says with a chuckle. "I take it you never expected to be this close to a King of Dean again?"

"No lad. Not without being able to put an axe in your head." Gerhard spits. "As I should've done to your bastard father."

"I'd watch how you talk about him, traitor." Einar says. "You may have set upon a path to make your ancestors weep, but some of us still honour ours. Besides, when we get down to it, I'm really your king, aren't I?"

"No longer. It's Pierre of Sinnabarrow I give my loyalty now, and you'll have to strike me down if you even so much of think of hurting his daughter, in fact-"

Einar swings his long, black spear, the bottom of the shaft colliding with Gerhard's face hard enough to shut him up.

"Hold a moment, this drowned rat is Madeleine?" Einar says with a laugh. Crouching before the Dauphine, he extends a hand. "Ever since I heard of the southron princess who came to Beatha's aid, I'd been eager to meet you."

Unsurprisingly, Madeleine does not accept the conqueror's offered hand. Instead, she stares off into the horizon, her own hands shaking. As the tremors run through her body, you notice she's paler than you've ever seen her before, the black eye Hjordis gave her looking even more unsightly than it had before.

"Quite the haul, boss." the Gaelican, a little man with a tattered cloak, a messy beard and an unruly expanse of hair remarks. "Two crowns fer the price of one."

"I've had worse fishing trips, that's for sure Mical." Einar beams. "Why don't you take her into the cabin, eh? Get her warmed up."

"With pleasure, boss." the Gaelician says, practically salivating over the idea of getting the princess alone. He yanks Madeleine to her feet, the Dauphine too out of it to resist, and shoves her towards the cabin, standing to the rear of the vast craft, just as it had done on Hjordis' smaller vessel.

"Mical." Einar holds up a hand. Mical stops in his tracks so swiftly you almost suspect magic. "You lay one finger on her, and you'll never see land again. Am I understood?"

"Perfectly, King." Mical says, chastened.

"You know what, bring the other two in there with you. I want to talk to Edward, alone." the Serpent King decides. With a little grumbling, the Gaelican helps up Gerhard, and the unidentified man, and disappears inside with them.

With only the men lining either side of the longship for company, Einar returns his attention to you.

"Come." he says, offering you his spear to help yourself up on. Without even thinking, you grasp the curious black material of the shaft with your good hand, using it to haul yourself up.

"Just this way." Einar turns, offering you his arm for support. This time, you refuse. Trying not to appear weak in the situation you were in was something of a losing battle, but you had your pride.

"Suit yourself." Einar chuckles. The mage sets off down the centre of the craft and you follow him, barely staying upright between the wind and your own trembling extremities. Eventually, you come to a sparser area of the ship. Einar settles down next to a crate, and bids you do the same.

"First things first," Einar begins, reaching into a sack nearby. "Celebrations are in order!"

The Mage-King produces a rounded green bottle, as well as a couple of cups, and pours a measure into each. You hear the liquid fizz inside, as if it's acid eating into flesh.

"Drink with me!" Einar urges you. You hesitate. "Look, it's not poisoned, see?"

The raider brings his cup to his lips, takes a draught, as if to show you it's safe.

Fuck it, you think. Even if it was poison, at least you'd be dying the way you lived. Give or take a wench on your lap.

"Effervescent wine." Einar remarks, noting your reaction to the fizz in it. "I hear they make it like that in the north of Sinnabarrow. That's what the merchant ship we took it, and a hundred bottles of its like said, at any rate."

A hundred bottles to go with their plundered princess, it occurs to you. What would Einar take from Itheria, beyond yourself?

"You said we had something to celebrate." you say, trawling back through the Serpent's words. Everything was important now, could mean life or ****. "What did you mean by that?"

"I heard about you and Kara." Einar says, beaming from beneath his hood. "It touched me, it really did. I married my Erika for love as well, so to hear that you bound your crown to hers, even with the frankly overwhelming threat we pose to Beatha, I thought it was sweet."

Einar refills both your cups.

"So," The Serpent King toasts "to love!"