Beyond the merchant vessels at anchor, and rapidly closing in, are more ships than I can count in a single glance. Now that they are somewhat closer, it is hard to believe I ever mistook them for Alaric’s fleet. These are clearly warships, not trading vessels. Built for speed and stealth. Their distinctive curved bowsprits slice the waves like blades, gaining unnatural speed as the Frostlander rowers heave their oars in perfect unison.
“They’re after the anchorage,” Soren mutters, hands bracing on the parapet at our waists as his eyes scan the horizon. “Probably heard about the wedding and thought to help themselves to the cargo in those holds.”
My gaze flickers down to the dozens of vessels bobbing unprotected beyond the heavy stone of the sea gate. “Will they attack the city?”
“They have no interest in conquest. But they will pillage everything on those vessels, given the chance, before they set them aflame.” His tone pitches lower. “And they will slaughter every sailor and civilian on board to do it.”
I swallow harshly.
I have heard tales of Frostlander raids. Their swiftness, their savageness. Their tendency to take no prisoners, wiping out whole villages in the span of a single night, hauling off everything of value, leaving none alive to tell the tale. In the past, they’ve aimed such plundering pursuits across the North Sea, rather than at their neighbors. But their strategies are changing. Only weeks ago, Cadogan called for reinforcements, fearing an imminent attack on Dyved.
I did not think Llyr would face a similar threat—certainly not here in the capital. Not with Soren’s menacing presence to keep them at bay. The prospect of so many stocked ships, sitting ducks ripe for shooting, must have proved too difficult to turn down.
Over the drone of the beacons and the din of soldiers running to their battle stations, the clipped bark of a woman’s orders carries on the breeze. Soren takes off like a shot toward the source. I follow more sedately, a silent shadow trying not to lose him in the melee.
The line of soldiers continues all the way along the top of the sea gate, some fifty paces across. At the midway point, straddling the seam of the two great doors, a female figure with a sleek silver bow strapped to her back is standing atop the waist-high balustrade, bellowing at everyone with a set of ears.
“I want those tower cannons firing the minute they’re in range!” Arwen’s braids fly as her head swivels back and forth, surveying the scene. Her flight goggles swing around her neck. “Wheelmen, work in shifts. If you get tired, tap out and let someone else take over. Those pumps need constant pressure on the valves to be of any use to your gunners!”
To either side of the sea gate, perched on flat lookout platforms that protrude from the parapets, sit a pair of matching water cannons.The Twins, as the soldiers so affectionately refer to them. They are double the size of the ones we passed by inside the wall battlements. Each requires a team of four men to manipulate the horizontal wheel that powers its pump.
“They will use the mooring field as cover!” Arwen flings a hand toward the bobbing ships behind her—prime targets for the raiding party. “You have to sink them before they make it into the anchorage or we’ll lose our chance!”
Soren slams to a stop just before his sister, head craned back to capture her gaze. “How many longships?”
“Fifty, maybe sixty.” Arwen’s tone is blunt. “About five hundred men.”
“How the bloody hell did they get here without detection?” Soren’s eyes flash to the incoming horde.
They are still quite a distance away, but making good headway. The armada is fanning out, splitting into two distinct prongs with the clear aim to surround the temporary mooring field on all sides. Like a noose tightening around a neck, they will close in all at once to take their bounty, then flee before the blood runs cold.
“They came around the back side of Prydain. Must’ve taken shelter on one of the islands off the coast overnight.” Arwen sounds more annoyed than angry. “If the Titans saw them hiding out, they did not feel inclined to warn us. I’ll be having words with Vaughn about that, trust me.”
“Vaughn is not solely responsible for all that transpires on Prydain, as you well know.” Soren shakes his head. “What of your scouts? Were they all asleep on their watches?”
Arwen scoffs, a biting sound. “Even if they were, it would not have mattered. You know how fast those ships are, brother. They can outrow even the swiftest ravens.”
“They still never should’ve made it this close to the city. They’re at our godsdamned gates.”
“For that, you can blame the bloodymist,” she seethes, eyes flashing over to me for a glacial instant. “The beacons cannot detect incoming threats if they are ensconced in constant cover.”
My stomach drops to my feet, a leaden ball of guilt. “I…I…”
“Do not speak,” Arwen hisses. “You have done quite enough here without adding your inane commentary to the mix.”
I recoil as though I’ve been struck.
Soren’s hand catches my arm before I make it more than a step, stilling me so I cannot retreat.
“Arwen,” he says with a frigidness that stuns me. “You embarrass only yourself when you act like a schoolyard bully instead of the leader I need you to be. Take your anger out on Rhya again and you will feel the brunt of mine.”
His cold chastisement snaps her focus back to the impending battle. Her blue eyes narrow as her mind turns over a thousand warring thoughts. “We need to cut them off before they reach the anchorage. The Twins alone will not keep them back. Not all of them. Not for long. We are already deploying soldiers to the exposed ships and evacuating the civilians, but…”
Her eyes drop down to the sea. Far below, several midsized rowing craft are making their way around the anchorage, letting off contingents of armed soldiers at each vessel, taking on the unarmed passengers in their stead.
“Where are the other Paexyrian?” Soren asks.
“Harpina and Thisobei traveled to Coldcross yesterday to confer with our Cimmerian scouts. They will not be back until this evening. Bretiax and Yara flew out to meet the Daggerpoint fleet at daybreak.”