My own great trial was in the new world. It was supposed to have been different, easier. Unfortunately, for some, either from cravings of power, or raw resentment, or just a biologically rooted absence of virtue, all means are justified. Even leaving an innocent young man to die alone on an island. I was half the world away from home, being sacrificed like a pawn on a gameboard. Were I to lose it all again I would not be concerned. I have proven my value many times over.

  -Harald Erling, as dictated to Leif Olander

  ***

  There was something about the sea. Something about it that brought him to life and energized him. Despite the downpour on his last journey aboard the Illusion, and the cold mist that currently hung in the air, Leif felt a swirling aimless energy around himself, folding itself into his skin, feeding his anger. It felt like the earth was giving him the power he needed. He left his cloak open so the chill could more easily reach him.

  The sweeps pulled them slowly into the port of Savorn. With one exception, the few ships and boats they saw on the docks were empty and in disrepair. Several more, in better condition, were anchored or moored in the harbor.

  Leif could see the Dragon’s Breath moored in the center of the harbor. There were men aboard watching the surrounding waters and watching the Illusion’s oars stoke towards the docks.

  On the broad walkway along the water’s edge Leif noticed several individuals taking an interest in their vessel. They quietly followed along, some attempting and failing to appear casual, disinterested. Others were bolder, watching them openly, and stepping along with them. Their clothing was average or shabby. Thankfully, there were no soldier uniforms.

  “I count nine.”

  “Thirteen, there are four more hiding further up the docks.”

  Anker turned to Vigo, “We can put in anywhere along this stretch. Please don’t let them board my boat.”

  Vigo had been stoic and quiet for the journey. Leif and Hestan had exchanged words and food with each other and the crew. He hadn’t seen Vigo eat so much as a crust of bread. Surely the man must’ve eaten.

  “They won’t. Put in here,” Vigo took two steps forward and leapt from the deck. The crew and the men on the dock watched in shock as he sailed across the impossible distance. He landed in a crouch, his long cloak splayed out around him, then slowly stood, glaring at the men gathered, daring them to attack him.

  Anker guided his oarsmen towards Vigo’s space on the dock.

  The man before Vigo gulped, “Is there food on your vessel?”

  “No.”

  Leif and Hestan slapped the gangplank onto the dock behind Vigo and moved swiftly across it before Anker's crew drew it back in and shoved off.

  “We’ll be anchored in the harbor when you’re ready, Vigo.”

  Vigo just nodded back to him. The circle of men parted before them as Vigo, Leif, and Hestan walked off the dock and into Maedelund.

  ***

  Without the faintest trace of uncertainty, Vigo led them through the city to the entrance of an inn. The sign out front just said The Nook. The common room was quiet and mostly empty. A man at a corner table stood up at their entrance but Vigo ignored him and pushed into a dim hallway and through another doorway. It was all wood paneled and the scent of tobacco filled the air.

  They stepped into a small library which was mostly filled by a large table. A map of the city had been printed and pressed into the tabletop. Several men looked up at their entrance.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  A tall silver haired man spoke in a deep voice and hard-set eyes, using his dry pipe for emphasis, “Vigo, you already know, then. Our spies saw them land. They left the ship in two parties. We did not get a good look at them but they were not quiet about it. The word is they were taking Estrid to Maarten’s Tower, and Karalee to the palace.”

  Vigo immediately turned to leave. “Wait, Vigo. Didn’t you hear me? We did not see Harald’s daughters. If you followed them so closely they very well may have been expecting you. I know she’s you’re wife but let us get confirmation first.”

  Vigo didn’t slow. He turned to Hestan and Leif, “Get Karalee. I will meet you at the palace when I’m done,” then he was gone.

  Hestan looked at the silver-haired man, “I share your concern, Leonard, but there’s nothing for it. We’ll go with the information we have. We’re not waiting. Leif and I go to the palace.”

  Leonard just sighed with exasperation as Leif and Hestan rushed out.

  They trotted through the streets hoping to hire horses or a wagon to take them to the palace but people were sparse. Leif didn’t see one horse or even so much as a chicken. They moved as quickly as they were able without wearing themselves out.

  They rounded onto Trondelundam Way, the main thoroughfare leading to the royal palace, and found themselves on the outskirts of a small gathering of people. An announcement stage had been modified into a gallows. A young man stood on a tall wooden stool. His hair and eyes were the same earthy brown. His hands were bound behind his back and a rope was wrapped loosely around his neck. He wore a face of resigned anger as he and the crowd listened to a man trying to read from his parchment. A woman wailed from within the crowd gathered so it was impossible to hear the reader.

  “Looks like this is why the streets are empty,” Leif said.

  “No, people have been keeping to themselves for a while now. But the families and friends, and others, always come out for the hangings.”

  Two guards grasped the woman and dragged her away. The wailings continued but they were muted now and Leif could hear the announcer's speech.

  “The public is required to comply with these rulings of the crown and the royal treasury, for the benefit of the national interest and the good of the public. This means all pricing is fixed for the present time until the market has stabilized and all transactions must be settled using Maedish sovereigns; the use of foreign coin is strictly forbidden and is considered treason against the nation and therefore immediately punishable by public execution.” The man folded the parchment and nodded to a soldier who moved towards the stool.

  “Let’s go, Leif.”

  “Just a minute.” It would only take a moment. Leif gently pushed through the people gathered until he was close enough to the gallows. He drew on his magic and a wave of power washed through him.

  A man standing next to him began mumbling aloud. Leif couldn’t tell if the man spoke to himself or to Leif, “You know, I worked my whole life to provide for my family. I saved so much. Now it’s all just a pile of metal. Might as well be a pile of dirt. It would be worth more if I pounded it into a hammer or horseshoes. Worked all my life to give it to my kids. Wife took them to live with her father in the country. Not sure what the point of it all was. Now I come to these because there’s nothing else to do. Maybe I’ll see someone I know.”

  Leif glanced back at him. The man’s eyes were glazed over and unfocused, like he was wandering through a dream. He was built like an ox with arms the size of Leif’s thighs. A heavy hammer was slung through a loop in his belt.

  Leif silently turned back to the gallows. He sent a sliver of heat through the weaves in the hangman’s rope, just beneath where it attached to the wooden beam. A thin, nearly invisible wisp of smoke escaped as he heated the threads.

  “We don’t have time for this, Leif. There’s nothing we can do. Let’s go!” Hestan’s voice was low but urgent and commanding.

  “All done.” He let Hestan pull him through the crowd towards the palace as the soldier yanked the stool out from under the young dark haired man. As soon as the rope went taut it snapped at the point Leif had burned though.

  The man tumbled to the ground with the rope still around his neck. He sprang to his feet a moment later and disappeared into the crowd. The soldier stood holding the stool, dumbfounded and looking up at the neatly severed cord of rope on the wooden beam above him.

  The man who’d read from the parchment screeched towards him, “He’s getting away! Go!” The soldier set down the stool and with another glance up at the rope, he trotted into the laughing and cheering people before him.

  Now that the palace was in their sights, Leif and Hestan ran in earnest. Leif felt his urgency increase the closer they came. He didn’t regret saving the man’s life but he hoped he wouldn’t regret the time it had taken, short as it had been.

  The rest of the street was mostly quiet and empty leading up to the palace. Leif only saw a few fruit sellers and a butcher shop that seemed to be open. A smith sat at the front of his smithy smoking his pipe. He stared through the smoke at nothing in particular and didn’t so much as look at them as they rushed on towards the palace and hopefully, Karalee.