Pirate of the Prophecy E-Book

Jack Campbell

• Herausgeber: JABberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Empress of the Endless Sea
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 572

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

On the world of Dematr, the Emperor and his legions rule over the lands on the eastern side of the Sea of Bakre, and the Great Guilds rule over the Emperor and his subjects. The Mechanics Guild, whose members claim they came from the stars, controls technology far beyond that of the swords and sailing ships of the common people, while the Mage Guild wields strange powers that terrify all who face them. Jules, an orphan from the Imperial city of Landfall, has fought her way up to become an officer in training with the Emperor's fleet. But her plans and her life are shattered when a Mage prophesizes that a daughter of her line will one day overthrow the Great Guilds and free the world. In that moment, the prophecy takes over her life. The Mages plot to kill her, the Mechanics try to find ways to use her, and the Emperor seeks to coerce her into having his children. Unwilling to surrender her life to serving the prophecy, Jules makes her escape by joining the crew of a pirate ship. As she fights for her comrades' freedom as well as her own, she learns that the world is finally changing. But if that change triggers all-out war between the Great Guilds and the Empire, it may well devastate the world rather than free it.

Leseprobe

PIRATE OF THE PROPHECY

Copyright © 2020 by John G. Hemry

All rights reserved.

Published as an eBook in 2020 by JABberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.

Originally published as in Audible Original in March 2020.

ISBN 978-1-625675-02-6

Cover art by Dominick Saponaro

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

JABberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.

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[email protected]

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Also by Jack Campbell

ToLieutenant (“Leftenant”) Commander Julie Vitali, Royal Navy,who would’ve made one hell of a pirate,and who wrote the book on Yankees.For S, as always

Acknowledgements

I remain indebted to my agents, Joshua Bilmes and Eddie Schneider, for their long- standing support, ever-inspired suggestions and assistance, as well as to Krystyna Lopez and Lisa Rodgers for their work on foreign sales and print editions. Many thanks to Betsy Mitchell for her excellent editing. Thanks also to Robert Chase, Kelly Dwyer, Carolyn Ives Gilman, J.G. (Huck) Huckenpohler, Simcha Kuritzky, Michael LaViolette, Aly Parsons, Bud Sparhawk and Constance A. Warner for their suggestions, comments and recommendations.

Chapter One

Jacksport had a lively nightlife for a place that wasn’t supposed to exist. Lanterns and candles lit up the taverns fronting on the harbor, many blazing through sheets of colored glass, causing the waterfront to resemble a cheap courtesan displaying fake jewelry in hopes of attracting more customers. Most of the buildings had been thrown up quickly using raw timber hewn from the inland forests, but even near the rickety piers extending into the water there were sturdier structures being built of stone or brick. Those who were coming to Jacksport clearly meant to stay. But for now muddy paths passed for roads and sidewalks, and dark corners abounded for those who wanted to offer unsavory services or prey on unwary victims.

Breezes coming down off the inland mountains carried the bracing scent of forest, a welcome competition to the fouler smells of the new town. Above, thousands of stars shone down on the world of Dematr, as well as the Twins, endlessly chasing the moon across the sky, far enough behind their quarry that some argued the moon was chasing the Twins.

“Why would anyone come here?”

“They want freedom,” Jules of Landfall replied to her friend Ian. The two lieutenants-in-training stood on the wooden deck of the Imperial galley Eagle Talon, recently tied up to one of those new piers. “They’re common people like us, tired of being slaves to the Great Guilds.” Anyone not a Mechanic or a Mage was a “common.” From the Emperor or Empress down to the lowest gutter dweller, they were all on equal social footing as far as the Mechanics Guild and the Mage Guild were concerned.

“The commons aren’t slaves,” Ian said. “We’re all citizens of the Empire.”

“Who have to do anything a Mechanic or a Mage tells us to do.”

“Why flee the Empire, then?” Ian demanded. “The Emperor protects his people.”

Jules couldn’t help a low laugh. “The Emperor wants servants, and he knows better than to cross the Great Guilds. No one really protects the common people.”

Ian shook his head, frowning at her. “Jules, be careful what you say. You’re already…”

“Already looked at askance because I came out of an Imperial orphan home,” Jules finished for him. “I fought for this,” she added, touching the officer insignia on her dark red uniform. “Just like I’ve had to fight for everything since I was five years old. I earned this.” Maybe the goal she’d set her mind on years ago, to reach for the highest prize within her reach, an Imperial officer commission, no longer felt right for her. But that goal had been her way of proving that she, an orphan raised on the Emperor’s charity, was as good as anyone else. She couldn’t give that up, couldn’t accept failure, because the world held nothing else she had any chance of grasping that could replace it as a mark of success, as an achievement that would force others to admit Jules of Landfall was their equal.

Not for the first time Jules wondered at how small an entire world could feel. But then as far as people were concerned, the entire world was confined to the eastern part of the Sea of Bakre and the lands there, all of which had been controlled by the Empire for as long as history went back. Granted, history didn’t go back very far, only to the time a few centuries ago when the first emperor, Maran, was credited with ending a period of chaotic barbarism and founding most of the world’s cities. Jules was far from the only person to have noticed that the histories made no mention at all of the Mechanics with their strange devices and the Mages with their mysterious powers who together ruled the world. But the inescapable fact remained that for commons the Empire was all there was, and advancement through Imperial ranks was the only option for those like her who wanted to better themselves.

“Yes, you earned it, and you can still lose it,” Ian warned. He gestured toward Jacksport. “Don’t start thinking like the people who believe they’ve escaped the Empire just because they’ve made it to the Sharr Isles. Don’t start thinking you can defy the Empire.”

She felt a surge of the old, familiar anger that had driven her since the death of her parents. “It’s the Empire. It’s all there is, so I have to do what I’m told. But nobody can tell me what I’m allowed to think.”

“I wasn’t—” He sighed. “Jules, there’s a reason the Emperor hasn’t yet moved against the people who’ve established settlements in places like Jacksport. No one will talk about it openly, but everyone thinks it’s because the Great Guilds have told him not to. Why are the guilds doing that? To let people have freedom? Does that make sense to you?”

“No,” Jules admitted. “The Great Guilds are playing some game of their own, using the common people as pawns.”

“Just like always,” Ian said in a low voice. “Pawns who’ll be used and killed.”

“Maybe I’m tired of being a pawn. Maybe all of us can be more than just tools for the Emperor or the Great Guilds to use in their games.”

Ian’s reply was forestalled by a shout from the quarterdeck. “Officers assemble!”

Jules followed Ian along the deck, past the single mast rising from the center of the galley, its sail furled, past the oars carefully stowed inboard, past the rows of crossbows and swords neatly racked and ready for use, around the after ballistae on its mount, and past the crew of legionaries who watched the young officers in training with looks bearing mischief under the required respect. Mounting the short flight of steps to the quarterdeck, Jules and Ian took position behind the line of full officers as they were joined by Dara, the third and last trainee officer aboard.

Captain Yvette usually appeared to be both smug and unhappy, a combination that Jules believed reflected Yvette’s self-satisfaction with having climbed her way to higher rank by stepping on anyone in her way as well as the discovery that achieving her goal in that manner hadn’t brought her any sense of accomplishment. This night was no different. Yvette glared at the officers before her as if waiting for one of them to utter an incautious word. “We’re here to make it clear to these fugitives that the eye of the Emperor is still on them, and that the hand of the Emperor can reach them. Make sure every person you encounter ashore knows that!”

“Are we going to take control of this nest of criminals?” Lieutenant Franz asked, secure enough in the knowledge that he was one of the captain’s favorites to risk asking a question. “Just because the Great Guilds are allowing some commons to set up new settlements outside of the Empire doesn’t mean the Emperor has to tolerate it.”

Yvette scowled. “The Emperor does not choose to take such action at this time. Most of the crew will remain aboard. The officers will go ashore in groups of two to impress our presence upon the locals and keep an eye on each other.” Her eyes came to rest on Jules and a thin smile appeared on her lips. “Except you, Lieutenant-in-Training Jules. You’re familiar with this sort of coarse environment, aren’t you? You’ll be assigned two legionaries and will patrol the taverns, ensuring those inside know the Emperor’s eye is on them.”

“Yes, Captain,” Jules said, keeping her voice flat, knowing that Yvette was once again needling her in hopes of provoking a reaction.

A few minutes later, as Jules buckled on her sword belt, Ian paused by her, his expression troubled. “Jules, be careful. I overheard Franz saying that you’re going to be assigned a couple of difficult legionaries. If you take those two into any taverns with you they’ll find a way to sneak drinks, and you’ll get hammered for it when you get back.”

“Thank you,” Jules said. “I figured the captain was trying to set me up again.” She settled the scabbard of her straight sword on her left hip and checked her dagger, sheathed on her right. “She’d like nothing better than to have grounds to fail me in my training evaluation.”

“The Great Guilds are here,” Ian continued. “At least, a few Mechanics have been seen on the streets, and one Mage has been spotted as well.”

“The Mechanics will be watching to make sure we’re not breaking any of their rules,” Jules said. “If someone wanted to try making something new, they’d head for a place like this where the Mechanics might not notice.”

“It’s not as if commons have any chance of learning how Mechanic devices work,” Ian said. “Their weapons, those ‘trains,’ and everything else seem as mysterious as Mage spells to me.”

“Those devices are what let Mechanics rule the world,” Jules said. “As for Mages, who knows why they do anything? Are they even human? I mean, they look human, sort of, but...”

“But they don’t act human,” Ian said. “And they’re even more dangerous than Mechanics.”

“I’ll try to avoid all of the Mechanics and any Mages,” Jules said. “Just like any smart common. I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier. Thanks for being a friend I can say things like that to.”

He shrugged. “If that’s all I am, I’ll do my best at it.”

She smiled at him despite her exasperation. “I never said that’s all you’d ever be to me. I said I needed more time. I’m probably doing you a favor. Imagine how your parents would react if you brought them a girl from a legion orphan home. Especially one with opinions like mine.”

“Jules, you can’t change the world. No one can. Nothing ever changes. That’s just the way it is. The Great Guilds don’t permit it. And nobody can fight the Great Guilds.”

He was right. She knew it. But it wasn’t in her to simply accept what was. “I was also told someone with my background couldn’t qualify for an officer’s appointment. Nobody knows what the future holds, Ian.”

“Mages do,” Ian said. “They sometimes speak those prophecies.”

Jules felt an odd sense of foreboding that she shrugged off. “That doesn’t have anything to do with me. I’ll be fine.”

Back on deck she found the ship’s centurion waiting with two legionaries in armor, one armed only with a short sword but the other also carrying a crossbow. Jules recognized both of them, troublemakers just as Ian had warned.

“Your escort,” the centurion told Jules.

She waited, her eyes on the centurion.

“Your escort, Lieutenant,” the centurion said.

How much of such testing of her was due to her status as an officer in training, and how much to the disdain with which those from the homes were treated? Jules couldn’t tell. She’d already shown the crew her willingness to push back when tested, but it hadn’t stopped, probably fueled by the captain’s open scorn. “Come on,” she told the two legionaries.

Once on the pier, though, she stopped them. “Let’s get one thing straight. I know that in combat unpopular officers sometimes suffer accidents, getting stabbed by one of their own legionaries.”

The two legionaries exchanged grins.

Jules drew her dagger, the broad blade that curved to a point at the end glinting in the light of the lanterns on the galley behind them. “It’d be a shame if anything like that happened to either one of you,” she said. “If I get too upset, if any trouble occurs, I might get confused and stab the wrong target. But as long as you don’t give me any trouble, and obey all orders, you probably won’t suffer from any accidents.”

The smiles on the faces of her two legionaries faded as they stared at her and the dagger.

“Are we clear?” Jules said.

“Yes, Lieutenant!” the legionaries chorused. Their postures, which had been relaxed, straightened into attention.

She led the way down the pier, no longer quite as worried to have those two at her back.

Just before leaving the pier to step onto dry land, Jules looked up at the stars again. She hadn’t told anyone, but it was her twentieth birthday. Jules had been tossed out of the orphan home the day she’d turned eighteen, and like just about every other man and woman ejected from one of the homes had walked straight to a legion recruiting office. But instead of enlisting, she’d been able to pass the rigorous tests giving her a chance for an officer appointment. After two years of training covering everything from how to fight, how to march, how to handle a ship, and how to climb the rigging, she got to spend her birthday leading a pair of unhappy legionaries through the mud and dark corners of Jacksport.

The taverns were only a short way back from the waterfront, lined up ready to separate the unwary from their money in exchange for various legal and illegal entertainments. Jules walked past the doors of the taverns, feeling self-conscious in her Imperial uniform. Except for some of the insignia, her fleet officer uniform was the same as that of the Imperial officers who commanded legionaries ashore. The armor of the legionaries following Jules was different, not as heavy as that of legionaries who fought on land, but it still carried the same menacing message to those who saw it.

The sounds of revelry grew subdued as Jules passed, growing again in her wake, as if Jules were some sort of Mechanic device or Mage spell that suppressed celebrations. “You’d think we were Mages,” one of the legionaries remarked.

“If we were Mages,” the other legionary said, “they’d be doing a lot less. No one wants a Mage to notice them.”

“Saw a guy get noticed by a couple of Mages once,” the first legionary said. “A man and a woman, I think. It’s hard to tell sometimes in those robes they wear, and they had their hoods up. Those two cut that guy to pieces. Just because they could. Didn’t look like they cared. Or like they was having fun. They just did it.”

The second legionary gave an angry snort. “At least when Mechanics spit on you they look at you like you’re a person, not a bug.”

“That’s enough,” Jules said, thinking that she ought to stop the chatter. “They’re the Great Guilds. We’re the commons. Everybody knows it.”

“The Emperor ought to-”

“That’s enough,” Jules repeated, putting more force into the words. It’d be awkward if those legionaries openly wondered why the Emperor who reigned in Marandur didn’t act. Because the only truthful answer was that the supposedly all-powerful Emperor had to do what the Great Guilds demanded.

The two legionaries subsided for only a moment. As they walked past a particularly garish entry with the sounds of drunken gaiety coming out, the first legionary spoke up again. “Lieutenant, are we going into any of the bars?”

“I am,” Jules said. Not that she was looking forward to that. “You two have to stay outside.” She ignored the low groans of despair from the legionaries which confirmed that Ian’s warning had been accurate. If those two got into a tavern they’d find ways to sneak drinks, and she’d get blamed for it when the three of them got back to the ship.

A shout came from someone safely anonymous inside a bar as they passed. “Go away! We’re free here!”

Free. Jules glanced inland, where the Mechanics Guild had already begun construction of one of their Guild Halls, demanding the work of local laborers and artisans.

“Freedom? I saw some Mechanics here already,” the second legionary said, unknowingly echoing Jules’ thoughts. “Swaggering around in their dark jackets like they own the whole world.”

“They do,” the first legionary said. “Don’t know why Jacksport would welcome them and give us the fisheye.”

Jules knew the answer to that, too. Jacksport would welcome the Mechanics and provide forced labor to build that Guild Hall because, as much as the common people detested Mechanics, they wanted the technology only the Mechanics could provide, and the people here knew that the only power on Dematr that could keep the Empire away was the Mechanics Guild. If it wanted to.

The Mage Guild could do that as well, of course, and the Mages would also come here, because Mages went wherever they wanted to go. But no one chose to interact with Mages, and no one could predict what they’d do. Except for the certainty that Mages regarded the lives of common people as worthless.

It had always been that way, though no one seemed to be sure just how long “always” extended into the past, and it always would be. As Ian had pointed out, how could anyone fight the power of the Great Guilds? Mechanic or Mage, they had abilities the common people couldn’t match.

“I’m going in here,” Jules said, looking for something to distract her from her thoughts. “You two wait right where you are.” The tavern, with a wooden plank nailed above the door advertising BOOZE, REAL STUFF seemed to have no name. It didn’t look like the sort of place that would welcome someone in an Imperial officer’s uniform. Which was exactly why she was going in. Face what you fear, her mother had said, not long before dying in childbirth. Jules thought her father would have agreed, but he’d died when his legion was sent to chase bandits in the mountainous Northern Ramparts.

Which had left only her. To endure the harsh environment of a home for legion orphans, to fight and learn and not give up until she qualified for one of the few openings for officer training available to the orphans, to end up here in the muddy streets and raw taverns of Jacksport.

She shoved open the door, striding inside.

Jules had taken barely three steps into the tavern, just enough to wonder why the place felt so quiet, when she abruptly found herself facing a Mage.

She froze, her eyes fixed on those of the Mage, wondering if she was about to die. The Mage looked back at her, his gaze reflecting the total lack of interest that Mages directed toward all others, as if those others meant nothing at all. His hood was down, giving her a good look at the rough, unwashed hair hanging in hanks alongside his face. The Mage’s expression, if a lack of any apparent feeling could be called an expression, could have been that of a dead person. The tavern had gone totally silent, all of those here watching with mingled dread and anticipation to see what the Mage would do to this young Imperial officer.

But in the moments while Jules stood paralyzed with fear and uncertainty, some feeling came into the Mage eyes looking into hers. Could that be surprise?

“This one sees and hears,” the Mage said, his eyes locked on Jules, his voice hoarse and low. “This one sees that one, and hears a voice inside say the day will come when a daughter of your line will unite Mechanics, Mages, and the common folk to overthrow the Great Guilds and free the world. A daughter of your line will someday do this.”

Jules stared at the Mage, a different, vastly greater terror taking the place of her earlier fears as his words sank in.

Following the words of the Mage the silence in the bar had become almost a physical thing, smothering all sound.

Someone finally broke the silence in a whisper, as if afraid to speak the words. “Her daughter will free us?”

“A daughter of her line,” another said. “Granddaughter, maybe. Great-granddaughter. But it’s a Mage prophecy! You all heard it!”

The voices broke her paralysis, though the Mage still stood as if frozen by shock at what he had seen, and everybody else in the tavern seemed afraid to move. Knowing only that she had to get out of there, had to find a place to hide, Jules scrambled backward—away from the Mage who would kill her as soon as he recovered from his surprise, away from the other eyes—out the flimsy door to where her legionaries waited. Oddly enough, even in the midst of the near-panic filling her, Jules felt an obligation to ensure those legionaries weren’t left exposed to any danger pursuing her.

“Get back to the ship!” Jules yelled at the two legionaries. “Go now!”

Without another word, she spun about and raced away down the waterfront, trying to lose herself in the crowd. Her guts felt like a hurricane had come to rest in them. Her mind filled with only one thought: that the Mage had pronounced a death sentence on her and any children she might someday have. Because the Great Guilds would never let that prophecy come true if they could prevent it by killing her.

Her churning thoughts and feelings, only partly numbed by fear, settled on one certainty. How hard would it be to learn the exact identity of an Imperial officer who was in Jacksport this night? That Imperial officer had to cease to exist before that Mage shared his prophecy with the Guild. Her future, the one she had worked and fought for, had just become a deadly trap that would have to be forgotten.

Finding an alley, Jules ran down it, trying to get away from the crowds and heedless of the mud splattering her boots and pants. In the dark, she saw a prowling figure lunge toward her and barely got her dagger out in time to swing at the other. The mugger or murderer dropped back, vanishing into the murk again as Jules ran on.

She came out of the alley one street back from the waterfront. Here few lights or people could be seen at this hour. Shuttered stores lined the streets, their interiors as dark as the night about them. Jules spotted a sign with a tattered shirt hanging from it and ran that way. Clothing. Yes. Do that first. She needed something a lot less easy to spot than this uniform.

Not wanting to break in the front door where someone could see, Jules ran to the alley alongside that building, finding a side door whose lock was stout enough to resist breaking. The same couldn’t be said of the door. She kicked viciously until the door cracked and she could force it open and get inside. Crates of clothing were laid out inside, forming haphazard rows. Quickly choosing the sort of shirt and pants that any sailor would wear, Jules stripped off her uniform and pulled on the other clothing. Her boots and sword and dagger could still betray her, but she needed those.

A small canvas bag proved big enough to hold her uniform. Jules rolled up her uniform jacket and pants, feeling a sense of loss as she sealed the bag. She paused to stare at the bundle, thinking of how proud she’d been to first put on that uniform. Where could she dispose of it where it wouldn’t be found?

When she walked out onto the well-lit waterfront again, no one took notice of her even though she thought her fear must be obvious. But Jules heard the buzz of gossip racing down the street and being repeated by dozens of people in tones too low for any passing Mechanic or Mage to overhear. She heard the word “prophecy” repeated over and over, confirming what the feverish discussions were about.

Jules walked along the waterfront feeling as if everyone around was staring at her. The bag holding her uniform felt like a huge red flag that everyone must surely notice. How could she get rid of it without people seeing? Jules held onto the bag and kept walking, not knowing where she was going, trying to figure out what to do next.

The Mage didn’t know who she was. No one in the bar had known. But if she didn’t get out of Jacksport fast, someone would recognize her. And that would mean her death. She had to get out of this harbor, and out of the Sharr Isles, as soon as possible. These areas were sparsely-settled enough that she’d stand out as a stranger no matter where she went. Even the growing town of Caer Lyn on another island was too small, and too close to the Empire, to be safe.

Running again would attract too much attention. Settling on a goal, Jules walked at a pace that she hoped wasn’t so quick as to be suspicious toward a pier she had noticed earlier, where a few merchant ships were tied up. One of those ships would have to be her way out of Jacksport.

Her path took Jules back past the pier where the Imperial galley Eagle Talon rested, the deck of the ship illuminated brightly enough by lanterns to show figures in dark red uniforms moving about. Her ship. Her former ship. At least she’d no longer have to feel conflicted about forcing others to bow before the same Imperial authority she herself chafed at.

Jules realized that a pair of officers from the Eagle Talon were coming down the pier toward her. Blazes. Why now? Jules scrunched her head into her collar, keeping her gaze lowered, letting her gait go a little loose like a sailor with too much alcohol under her belt, hoping the Imperial officers would pay no attention to her.

They were even, they were past…

“Jules?”

Her head came up and she looked back, recognizing the voice. Lieutenant-in-Training Ian and Lieutenant-in-Training Dara. Of all people to encounter.

“What are you doing?” Dara asked, her shocked gaze on Jules. “Where’s your uniform?”

“I’m leaving Imperial service,” Jules said. “Forget you saw me. Please.”

“You can’t just—” Dara began, shocked.

“What happened?” Ian interrupted, coming closer, concerned for her.

“I have to disappear,” Jules said, the words tumbling out. “Or else I’ll be killed.”

“By who? Who wants to kill you?”

“Every Mage and every Mechanic on Dematr.” Jules rubbed her face, already regretting having told them that much, seeing that now she’d have to explain. “I encountered a Mage. He…he looked at me, and said that a daughter of my line would someday overthrow the Great Guilds and free the world.” Both Ian and Dara stared at her, their jaws hanging loose in amazement. “The Mage didn’t know who I was. I lost him. I need to make sure they don’t find out who I am.”

“You won’t last a day if they do find out,” Ian said. “Both Great Guilds? Your daughter will overthrow both of them?”

“A daughter of my line,” Jules said. “Who knows how far down the line that will be? It could be centuries.”

Ian stared at her. “Do you think it’s true? What the Mage said?”

“It’s a Mage prophecy,” Dara said, sounding joyful. “That means it will happen. Jules, this is wonderful!”

“Wonderful?” Jules asked, wondering why “wonderful” felt so terrifying.

“Yes! The Emperor will protect you! Hide you! Come on back to the ship.”

Jules wavered. “Hide me?” Could he? Even the Mages and the Mechanics might not be able to find her if the Emperor…

What would the Emperor do?

She thought of everything she’d heard of the Emperor and the Imperial court. Ruthless, everyone said. The only morality was winning by any means possible. “Hide me? Lock me up somewhere, you mean.”

“Somewhere safe,” Dara emphasized. “The Emperor wants the Great Guilds overthrown, too! If he knows a daughter of your line will…you don’t have any children yet, do you?”

“No!” Jules said. “I…” It hit her then with the force of a blow, her fears fanned again by the knowledge of what would happen to her. “He’d make me marry him. Make me his consort. And force me to have children with him.”

“Who?” Ian asked.

“The Emperor! If my children were also acknowledged as his he’d be able to claim Imperial credit for whatever they did!”

“I hadn’t thought of that!” Dara said. “Jules, you’re so lucky!”

“Lucky? How is that lucky?”

“To be the Emperor’s consort! To bear the heirs to the Empire, and those who will eventually overthrow the Great Guilds!” Dara smiled broadly.

“Do you think I’m Mara?” Jules demanded. “Willing to sell my humanity so I can sit beside the Emperor’s throne?”

“Jules, what’s the matter with you? The Emperor keeps us all safe. Even if you don’t appreciate that, you swore an oath to the Emperor!” Dara insisted. “You have a duty to come back with us, and to go to Marandur, and to do whatever the Emperor asks of you. Having his children would be an honor.”

Jules shook her head, a certainty rising to accompany the earlier fear. “Then you have them! I won’t spend the rest of my life locked away someplace safe! I’d rather die than become a brood mare for the Emperor, or any other man! I’ll marry the man I want when I want, and then I’ll have children, if children I have, because I want to!”

“It sounds like you’re definitely going to have at least one child,” Ian said.

Jules stared at him, only now feeling the force of that. A child was no longer merely a possibility. Someday, at least one child of hers would be in this world.

And the Great Guilds would be doing all they could to kill that child.

Dara’s voice, gone cold and authoritative, shocked her out of that dark reverie. “Surrender your sword, Jules. Ian, take her sword.”

“You’re arresting me?” Jules asked, incredulous.

“You have a duty!” Dara repeated. “Not just to the Emperor but to every common person on Dematr who needs your descendent to someday free us.”

Jules hesitated, not wanting to fight Ian and Dara, but seeing no other way out. Ian didn’t seem happy, though, even while he listened to Dara’s orders. “All right,” Jules told Dara, drawing her sword back-handed as if to surrender it. “But first we need to deal with them,” she added, nodding back the way she’d come.

Dara and Ian turned to look, but no one was visible nearby. “What-?” Ian began.

Jules slammed the guard of her sword against Dara’s head, dropping Dara senseless. Spinning the blade about, she held the tip slanted toward Ian, who hadn’t drawn his own sword. “Don’t make me hurt you. Please,” Jules said.

Ian nodded, stepping back. “You should probably hit me, too, so I can have a good excuse for not stopping you. Dara’s just trying to be a good citizen.”

“I know,” Jules said. “I don’t want to kill her.”

“You should probably kill both of us,” Ian said, his voice cracking. “To keep your secret safe.”

Jules looked at him, at the sword in her hand, then shook her head. “No. My life isn’t worth that. I won’t murder either of you to protect myself.”

Ian sagged with relief. “This time I’m glad that you’re not taking my advice. All right. I understand why you’re doing this. Maybe someday we’ll meet again. Good luck, Jules.” Ian turned away, standing stoically.

Jules hit him hard enough to raise a lump, dropping Ian to his knees, but not hard enough to knock him out even though he could claim she had.

Then running again, here where it was dark right along the water, the brightly lit taverns well behind her, the night covering her movements. Running through the gloom until she reached the last pier, and out along it, slowing to a walking pace, studying the three ships here. Trying to think as her heart pounded and her breath came quick from the run and from renewed fear.

One of the three ships flew an Imperial flag. A prosperous-looking ship. She knew the type. Owned by someone in the Imperial court, benefiting from the insider connections and trades those facilitated. She couldn’t trust anyone aboard a ship like that.

The second ship looked like any other wooden sailing vessel, but flew the flag of the Mechanics Guild, indicating that it was leased or owned by Mechanics to carry cargo. Mechanics would let commons do the work on such a ship, but they would rule every action taken. Even though Mechanics might not believe in Mage prophecies (did they believe in Mage prophecies?) they’d probably still kill her just to be safe.

The third ship, though, looked to be decently maintained and also an independent trader. It offered a slim hope, but the only hope there was to be had this night.

Jules went up the gangway, finding a drowsy sailor sitting on the deck. “Is your captain aboard?”

The sailor blinked up at Jules, plainly unhappy at being roused. “Who’s asking?”

“Me.”

“Why?”

“Why don’t I talk about that to the captain?”

“Then you’ll wait,” the sailor said. “Cap’n said no waking him until dawn unless an emergency. Are you an emergency?”

“Maybe. I came off that Imperial galley.” What would get the attention of this sailor? Jules remembered some of the other officers eyeing this ship and discussing what they might do. Why not assume they would? Because a search of every spot on this island would certainly happen once Dara recovered and spoke to the captain of the Eagle Talon. “The Imperials are planning to search this ship as soon as the sun rises tomorrow. Maybe even before dawn.”

Her partial bluff worked, the sailor getting up and eyeing her narrowly. He was a big man, a bit over a lance tall, the sort who could cow opponents just by looking at them. “You’re in the Imperial fleet?”

“I was,” Jules said. “Are we going to talk to the captain?”

The sailor hustled along the deck to the cabin under the quarterdeck, rapping his knuckles on the door, the sound unnaturally loud at this hour. “Cap’n? We got an emergency.”

Less than a minute later the door cracked open. Jules saw a single eye looking out. “What is it?”

Jules answered. “The Imperials are planning to search this ship at first light. Maybe earlier.”

“Blazes. Ang, get the crew rousted and send some ashore to get anyone in the taverns. Move fast.”

“You believe her?” Ang asked.

“Move fast!” the captain said. As Ang ran off the captain opened the door fully and stood in the doorway, studying Jules. Roused from sleep, he wore only trousers. He was nearly past middle-age, Jules guessed, seeing even in this dim light that his skin was rough from long years at sea. A heavy mustache sprinkled with gray crowned his lip and heavy eyebrows hovered above shrewd eyes.

“An Imperial officer,” the captain finally said. “I can see the sword. What brings you here?”

She wasn’t about to tell the truth again. “I have my reasons.”

“Do you?” The captain looked her over again, something about his appraising gaze making Jules’ face warm with embarrassment. “You caught the eye of some Imperial official, I’m guessing. Someone who doesn’t have to take no for an answer.”

That was close enough to the truth, Jules realized. Though that Imperial official would be the Emperor himself. “Yes.”

“So you found your virtue and decided that coercing others wasn’t such a fine thing after all,” the captain added with a sour look. “Well enough. Some folks don’t find that out until they’re a lot older than you, and have done a lot worse than someone your age could’ve yet managed. What do you want from this ship?”

“A fast way out of Jacksport,” Jules said.

“It’s like that, then? You’re that worried about being taken back?”

Tell him the truth and give him a hold on her? Or lie and risk the lie showing in her face or words? Jules inhaled deeply, then nodded. “Yes. I’m that worried.”

The captain shook his head. “There’d be a reward then. It would’ve been smarter to lie, girl.” He held up one hand to pause her grab for her sword. “But the Imperials probably have a reward out for me as well, so this time you’re fine. Find another story, though. You’ll be safer that way. Can you work sails?”

“I’m…I was a lieutenant-in-training. I can do anything on this ship,” Jules said.

“Ah. We’ll see about that.” The captain looked about as his crew began rushing onto deck, some of them running down the gangway and toward the town to collect their shipmates. “Do you know how a free ship works?”

“I know how a ship works,” Jules said. “You’re the captain.”

“This is a free ship,” he repeated. “I’m captain as long as the crew supports me. If I make enough mistakes, act too high and mighty, they can vote me out and someone else in. Don’t you be a mistake, you hear me?” The sudden menace in the captain’s voice made clear the threat wasn’t an idle one.

“I hear you,” Jules said.

“I’m Mak of Severun. What’s your name?”

“My name is J—” Jules choked off her words, realizing that she shouldn’t tell anyone the truth of that. “Jeri. Jeri of…”

“Say Landfall,” Captain Mak advised. “Your accent tells anyone you’re from there, so stick to a story you can carry off.”

“Thank you,” Jules said, suddenly aware of how much she didn’t know about being on the run from…from everyone. “Jeri of Landfall.”

“All right, Jeri. Welcome to the Sun Queen. You can climb rigging?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Get out of those boots and drop your sword and belt. I’ll keep them safe for you. Keep the dagger. Ask Ang for a belt sheath for it from the ship’s chest.”

Jules leaned against the deckhouse, tugging off both boots, feeling a surge of worry as she unclasped her sword belt and handed over the weapon. But she still had the dagger in her hand, and while Mak didn’t seem especially warm he did appear to be helpful. “Can you do something with this?” Jules asked, abruptly realizing she also still had the bag holding her rolled up Imperial uniform.

“What is it?” Mak glanced inside. He raised an eyebrow at her, but didn’t ask any other questions. “It’ll be in this cabin. In case you need it again.”

“I seriously doubt I will.” She found Ang, who offered Jules a scornful look before taking her to the chest holding extra clothing and other items anyone on the ship might need. Jules dug until she found a leather belt sheath that would hold her dagger, but there weren’t any belts that would fit her. Without her sword belt, the pants she’d stolen kept slipping down over her hips, so going without a belt wasn’t an option.

That was a familiar problem from her childhood, though, with a familiar solution at hand. “Is it all right if I cut off some of this?” Jules asked Ang, hefting a length of line. He nodded, she measured out a length with her arms, sliced it free and after putting the knife sheath on it slipped the line through the belt loops of her pants and knotted it.

“You’ve done that before,” Ang said, his gaze gone from hostile to curious.

“Legion orphan home,” Jules said, having decided to stick with that part of her past. There wasn’t any shortage of people who could claim similar upbringing, and she’d have a hard time convincingly talking about any other kind of childhood.

“Ah.” Ang nodded. “Landfall?”

“Yeah.”

“I was in one at Sandurin. The Emperor’s generosity didn’t extend to luxuries like decent clothing, did it?”

“No,” Jules said. “And the food was only fit for a Mage.”

“On good days.” Ang nodded again. “If you need anything, sister, you tell me.”

“Thank you, brother.”

That had been one of the unwritten rules of the orphan homes. The others there were sisters and brothers, perhaps the only family some of them had ever known. And they all knew it was them against a world that saw them as a burden at best and thieving pests at worst.

Back on deck there were sailors rushing about to ready the ship to get underway, and others racing up the gangway having returned from the taverns. “Something weird’s going on back there,” one called as she came up off the dock. “Mages going around checking every young woman and young man. They’re not saying a thing, just staring and moving on.”

“Move fast!” Captain Mak called down from the quarterdeck, where he stood fully clothed, a cutlass by his side. “The Imperials and the Mages are both acting up! We want out of here before the Mechanics join in!”

Jules ran over to where some of the crew were bringing in the hawsers that had tied the ship to the pier, lending a hand as they hauled on the rough, heavy lengths of braided hemp fibers. Other members of the crew were pulling in the gangway even as a last sailor ran up it.

“Get aloft!” Ang called. He gestured to Jules. “Foremast!”

She ran again, joining the others racing up the ratlines and shrouds to the yard where the fore-mainsail was furled. Edging out along the rope strung under the yardarm, Jules helped loosen and unfurl the sail, the heavy canvas fighting her efforts.

The sail dropped, filling with a soft rumble as it caught the breeze.

The Sun Queen, drifting slowly away from the pier, picked up speed as the sails were unfurled and caught the wind, her bow coming about to head for the harbor entrance.

Jules paused to stare that way, remembering that Jacksport as yet had no marked channel to follow, and no lights on the headlands marking either side of the harbor entrance. Getting out without running aground would take both inspired seamanship and at least a little luck.

Back down on the deck, Jules joined one of the gangs of sailors hauling on the lines to shift the sails to best catch the wind as the Sun Queen swung about. She looked forward, seeing the vague, shadowy shapes of the headlands hard to make out in the night, then back toward the quarterdeck, startled to see Captain Mak apparently looking off to the side. “What’s he looking at?” she gasped without thinking.

One of the nearest sailors glanced back at the captain. “You don’t know that trick? Something dim at night, you can’t see it head on. But if you look out of the corner of your eye, you can spot it. Mak’s looking for the surf around the sides of the harbor entrance.”

Of course. Jules turned her own gaze aside, catching the faint glimmer of white surf, growing and fading as the swells beat against the rocks.

It seemed a very small and vague thing on which to risk the safety of this ship and the people on it.

Including her.

Jules looked down at herself, in rough sailor clothing, a rope belt, bare feet, on the deck of a ship she didn’t know surrounded by men and women whose motives and morality she had little sense of, heading for what might well be a hard grounding on jagged rocks that would tear the bottom out of this ship and spill the crew into the waves slamming into the rocks. There had been little time tonight to think. No chance to really consider what choices she had. Did this make sense? Had she simply run from one form of death to another?

Looking back toward the waterfront, getting farther away as the Sun Queen headed for the harbor entrance, Jules made out the shapes of crowds rushing about. Were there dark red Imperial uniforms among them? Hard to tell from this distance. But the Mages had already been looking for her. By now the crew of the Eagle Talon might be searching as well.

A boom like that of thunder brought to ground echoed across the harbor, followed by several more booms in a ragged volley.

“Mechanic weapons,” one of the sailors said, staring back at Jacksport. “The Mechanics are out, and they’re shooting.”

“Shooting at who or what? What the blazes happened?” another asked. “Mages acting weirder than usual. The Imperials moving in. I’ve been to Jacksport a dozen times and never seen the like of this.”

“I heard someone say there’d been a prophecy. A Mage made a prophecy.”

“About what? The end of the world?”

Jules looked forward again, trying to catch a good look at the rocks and surf around the harbor entrance that the ship was rapidly approaching.

Dangerous as those rocks were, they were the safer choice tonight. And daring them her only chance of living to see the dawn. If she was going to live, she couldn’t just stand around waiting for others to save her.

Chapter Two

Jules broke into a run, heading forward past startled other members of the crew. She reached the bow and kept going, out along the bowsprit extending from the bow, holding on to the stay lines until she’d gone as far as she could, the dark waters of the harbor racing beneath her as she balanced unsteadily on the bowsprit, reaching back to grasp the closest rigging, feeling the tension in the stay line as it helped hold the masts against the strain of the wind.

She knelt, staring into the darkness, scanning from side to side, catching glimpses of white surf from the corners of her eyes. There. And there. “Surf less than one point to starboard!” she yelled back.

Jules heard her report echoed by others, relayed to the quarterdeck, and felt the ship swing slightly to port, rocking her on her precarious perch. Grateful that she had bare feet gripping the bowsprit instead of the leather soles of her boots, Jules breathed as softly as she could through her open mouth, listening as well as looking for surf. “Surf one point to starboard!”

The Sun Queen swung a bit more to port.

“Surf two points to port!”

“Surf three points to starboard!”

“Surf just off the port bow!”

The ship swung harder, heeling away from the danger. Jules’ foot slipped, leaving her partially dangling over the water for a moment as she clung to the stay.

Both feet on the bowsprit again, looking anxiously ahead, Jules heard and saw the closest surf this time. “Surf one point to starboard!”

The Sun Queen rolled a bit to port, threading the needle of the channel entrance. Jules held on, staring at the waters ahead, feeling the motion of the ship change to a long roll and pitch.

“Hey.”

Jules looked back, seeing Ang calling to her from the foot of the bowsprit.

“We’re out,” Ang said. “Get your butt back on deck before you take a swim.”

She found it unexpectedly hard to stand fully and make her way back along the bowsprit without falling, surprised by how stiff her muscles were. Hands reached to help her onto the deck. “Who the blazes are you?” one of the sailors demanded.

“J- Jeri. Of Landfall. I just came aboard.” She looked at the faces around her, trying to judge their mood in the dimness.

The sailors parted like the waters of a sea as Captain Mak came through them. “That was you up front calling the surf?”

“Yes, sir,” Jules said.

“Smart,” Mak said. “I should’ve thought of that myself. Ladies and Sirs of the Sun Queen, I give you our newest proposed crew member, Jeri of Landfall! Give her a hand for getting us out of Jacksport in one piece.”

Fists punched Jules in the shoulders, knocking her about, the blows friendly rather than intended to harm. Most of the blows still hurt a little, though.

A cheerful woman at least twice Jules’ age put her arm about Jules’ shoulders. “That’s enough, you louts! You’ll get your chances tomorrow!” She led Jules out of the circle of grinning sailors, leaning close to talk in a lower voice. “I’m Liv of Marandur. Ang tells me you’re a sister like me.”

“Yes.”

The woman looked over Jules’ hair, which despite the events of the evening still bore the styling expected of an Imperial officer. “Looks like you found a better place in life for a while at least.”

“I didn’t find it,” Jules said, her pride stung. “I fought for it.”

The woman grinned. “Well done, sister. Listen up. There’ll be an initiation tomorrow. To see how tough you are. Ang and I can’t help. You’ll have to stand on your own.”

“I can do that,” Jules said.

“Yeah, I expect you’ll do all right. I just wanted you to know why Ang and I will be standing by instead of back to back with you. Get on below, now. Let’s get you a hammock. Do you need any other gear?”

“I left my last ship in a rush,” Jules admitted. “I couldn’t go back to get anything.” Not that she’d had that much in the way of personal possessions. But simple things like a spare set of underwear fell under the category of necessities.

“No need for details,” Liv advised. “A lot of us left our last place in a rush and would rather not share the reasons.” She led the way down a ladder into the below decks, where many of the crew were gathering. As was usual below decks on a ship, the overhead was low enough that tall men and women stooped to ensure their heads didn’t make painful contact with wooden beams.

Jules gazed around, surprised. “How large is the crew?”

“Forty-seven in all, now you’re here,” Liz said.

“That’s…very large for a merchant ship this size.”

“We sometimes have need of extra crew, isn’t that right?” Liz called to the others.

Jules heard the laughter in reply. She knew of only one reason why such a ship would need a crew this large.

She’d fallen in with pirates.

* * *

The night had been an uncomfortable one despite the swaying of her hammock to the roll of the ship. Jules lay awake for a long time, feeling the hammocks strung close to either side of her, other sailors sleeping around her making the sort of noises that she’d learned to ignore while in crowded quarters in the orphan home. She stared up at the rough wood of the overhead, but she didn’t see those planks. All she could see before her were the burning eyes of that Mage, fixed on hers, as he pronounced her doom.

A daughter of her line. How weird to think of that. She’d barely begun to consider children some day, and certainly had no idea who she’d want them with. But here it was, a Mage prophecy that said she would have them. At least one, anyway. Who would be her partner in that? Someone who was truly a partner, or a man chosen to serve a need and nothing more? Would she ever get so desperate that any man would do?

She thought of Ian. A good man, not much older than she, from a good family close to the Imperial household. About as far as anyone could get from a girl out of one of the legion orphan homes. But he’d made clear that if Jules happened to become interested in him, he’d be interested in her. She’d been sorry at times not to feel more toward Ian, but now counted her luck. That kind of entanglement would have only hurt both of them more when the prophecy was spoken.

Would it have meant that Ian would’ve been the man who fathered the child who’d continue her line?

Jules frowned, her jumbled thoughts for some reason fastening on that idea. Who would the father be? The prophecy almost made it sound as if that didn’t matter. It would be her line that produced that daughter. As if something about her was special.

Apparently overthrowing the Great Guilds and freeing the world would demand a woman with a sharp temper and more stubbornness than common sense.

What would these sailors around her do if they knew about her and the prophecy? Jules gazed into the darkness, feeling very alone despite being surrounded by others. She’d have to avoid blurting out her secret again. Bad enough that Dara knew.

Ian had been right. She should have killed Dara.

But she couldn’t have. Jules knew she couldn’t take a life just to keep a secret. Not even this secret.

Pirates killed people. They were criminals, like the gangs Jules had known growing up in Landfall. The children of the orphanages had stood together against those predators. Had Ang and Liv joined such a group? Wouldn’t they have warned her?

Jules knew that if she’d judged wrong, if she’d ended up in the hands of a gang such as those that had haunted the dark alleys of Landfall, then she might soon be wishing she’d let the Mages kill her. Such a death might be merciful compared to what such gangs had done to their victims.

Only exhaustion finally allowed her to sleep.

And now, after a short breakfast of boiled potatoes and onions washed down with tepid water from a cask, Jules found herself standing on deck alone. The sky above was bright blue, flecked with high, white clouds, the breezes mild, the swells the ship rode long and gentle. A beautiful morning.

Except that the crew had formed a rough circle about her, smiling with anticipation.

Captain Mak appeared on the edge of the quarterdeck. “We have a new candidate for the crew! Shall we test her?”

The men and women around Jules shouted their approval.

Jules’ hand clenched as she fought to avoid drawing her dagger.

The crew moved out of the circle, forming two equal lines that faced each other, leading from the foremast to the quarterdeck. Jules saw sailors massaging their hands to loosen the muscles. Saw marlinspikes and clubs held by others. And knew what she faced.

Mak leaned forward to call to her. “Run it, girl. When you reach the quarterdeck, you’ll be crew.”

She’d felt the fear of pain and of failure, and of losing all she cared about. Of succeeding, and being told by others that she’d been given a special break, hadn’t really earned it. She’d been here. Running gauntlets all of her life between people who thought she wasn’t good enough.

Jules walked back to the foremast, turning to face down the gauntlet, seeing everyone grinning in expectation of the fun to come. The cold came into her, the same cold that she’d felt when told her mother had died, the cold that had kept her going after she entered the orphan home.

No one was going to stop her.

She looked up at Mak. “I’ll reach the quarterdeck,” she yelled back.

Then began walking, not running, down the gauntlet.

After a moment of surprise, those on either side began hitting her. Jules felt herself slammed from side to side by the blows. Most of the sailors weren’t easing up at all, striking her hard as she walked.

A fist to her face rocked her head. She shook it and walked on. A slam across her back dropped Jules to her knees. She struggled up and kept walking.

Another blow to her left shoulder knocked Jules into the sailors on the right side of the gauntlet. She shoved off of them, getting back to her feet in time for another hit to hurl her to the left.

She kept walking, trying to keep her eyes on the quarterdeck as her body rocked under repeated blows. The sailors had been cheering when Jules had entered the gauntlet, but had fallen silent as she walked between them and endured hit after hit.

Another strike in the back knocked her down to her hands and knees. Jules, breathing heavily and hurting all over, got one knee up and then the other, managing to get to her feet again. She could taste blood in her mouth, feel blood on her arms and legs where strikes had broken skin. One eye felt swollen, limiting vision that was already bleary.

Almost there. She staggered onward, a final strike knocking her against the ladder leading up to the quarterdeck.

She held on to the ladder, trying not to fall.

“You have to get up the ladder,” a familiar voice told her. Liv didn’t have to speak loudly to be heard. The crew was watching silently.

Jules pulled herself up the ladder step by step, breathing heavily, leaving bloodstains on the steps. At the top, she couldn’t get up to her feet, dropping to her hands and knees again on the quarterdeck.

She could barely make out when Captain Mak knelt beside her, a blurry image to one side. “Are you that crazy, then?” Mak asked.

Jules had to spit a gob of blood and saliva before she could answer. “I don’t…give up…I don’t…quit.”

“You’ve made that clear.” Mak’s hand grasped her arm, pulling Jules to her feet. She stood, wavering, hoping that she wouldn’t throw up, as the captain yelled to the crew. “Does she pass?”

The crew roared its approval, the men and women who’d just beaten her rushing up the ladder to grab Jules and cheer.

* * *

Jules clenched her teeth in pain as the bucket of sea water splashed across her back and rolled along her arms and legs, salt stinging in the cuts, the cold somehow making the developing bruises feel worse.

“Doesn’t look like any broken bones,” someone said. “This girl must be made of iron.”

She was rolled onto her back, someone’s hands going over her limbs with firm and sure movements.

Liv’s face came into Jules’ view. “This is Keli, our healer. He’s not going to feel any parts on you he shouldn’t.”

Jules nodded slightly, not wanting to move her swollen lip and sore jaw.

Keli was an old man, Jules saw, but his hands were strong and his gaze still keen as he looked closely into Jules’ eyes. “No sign of brain trauma. Doesn’t look out of her mind, either, though why anyone in a right mind would walk a gauntlet instead of running it I don’t know.”

“She’s a sister,” Liv said. “Landfall Legion Orphanage.”

“Oh. That makes ’em tough or breaks ’em, doesn’t it? Is that where you learned to walk a gauntlet, girl?”

Jules nodded slightly again.

“Did you think the crew’d go easy on you because you were walking?” Keli pressed.

Jules shook her head. “I can…take it,” she whispered.