“Did you see something?” Sophia asked.
Lucas shook his head. “I have some talent for it, but I think you got more of it. What I mostly see for tomorrow is blood.”
That was easy enough to see even without the magic that brought dreams to both of them. Sophia looked out again, and now there was a coastline on the horizon, a speck of a city sitting in it.
“Ashton,” Sophia said. She hadn’t seen it in what seemed like forever.
The city spread out like a stain on the landscape, its buildings old, its expanse sprawling beyond its walls. Part of their fleet was already breaking off, Hans moving to land further along the coast and take the outskirts.
The rest of them moved closer, signal flags flying to coordinate their movements. They anchored well out of cannon range, and small boats lowered, complete with messengers and the demand to surrender. Sophia knew that Ulf and Frig would be preparing their own small boats to sneak close to the city before the battle started, ready for the river gates to open to them.
Sophia could see the ships waiting there, ready for war in response to whatever messages had reached them. Not enough to stop a fleet their size, not pinned against the shore like that. As they approached closer, Sophia could hear trumpets sounding, see signal fires being lit.
She looked past it all to the palace and the noble quarter. Sebastian was somewhere in there, held in a cell, waiting for her rescue.
“We could still charge in, the way Cousin Ulf wants,” Lucas said.
Sophia looked at the sky. The sun was already falling, sending red fingers across the horizon. She had to force herself to shake her head. It was one of the hardest things she’d ever done.
“We can’t risk a night attack,” she said. “We need to stick to the plan.”
“Then we attack at dawn,” Lucas said.
Sophia nodded. At dawn, everything would be determined. They would see if she got her family’s kingdom back, along with the man she loved, or if they were all condemned to death.
“We attack at dawn,” she said.
CHAPTER FOUR
Kate stood with the sea breeze running across her face, feeling truly free for the first time that she could remember. Seeing Ashton approaching in the distance brought back memories of the life she’d had there for so long as one of the Unclaimed, but those memories didn’t own her anymore, and the anger that came with them felt more like a dull ache than anything fresh.
She felt Lord Cranston approaching before he reached her. That much of her powers had come back. That was hers, not something that Siobhan or her fountain had given her.
“We’re attacking at dawn, my lord,” she said, turning.
Lord Cranston smiled at that. “A traditional time for it, although there’s no need to call me that now, Kate. We’re the ones sworn to serve you, your highness.”
Your highness. Kate suspected that she would never get used to being called that. Especially not by the man who had been one of the first to give her a place in the world where she fit in.
“And there’s really no need to call me that,” Kate countered.
Lord Cranston pulled off a surprisingly elegant courtier’s bow. “It’s who you are now, but all right, Kate. Shall we pretend that we’re back in the camp, and you’re learning tactics from me?”
“I suspect I still have plenty to learn,” Kate said. She doubted that she’d learned half of what Lord Cranston had to teach in the time she’d been a part of his company.
“Oh, undoubtedly,” Lord Cranston said, “so, a lesson. Tell me, in the history of Ashton, how has it been taken?”
Kate thought. It wasn’t something that their lessons had covered so far.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
“It has been done by treachery,” Lord Cranston said, counting the options on his fingers. “It has been done by winning the rest of the kingdom, so that there is no point in holding out. It has been done in the distant past through magic.”
“And by force?” Kate asked.
Lord Cranston shook his head. “Although cannon may change that, of course.”
“My sister has a plan,” Kate said.
“And it seems well done,” Lord Cranston said, “but what happens to plans in battles?”
That, at least, Kate knew. “They fall apart.” She shrugged. “Then it’s a good job that we have the finest of the free companies working for us to fill the gaps.”
“And it’s a good job that I have the girl who can summon mists and move faster than a man can follow,” Lord Cranston replied.
Kate must have hesitated just a second or two too long before replying.
“What is it?” Lord Cranston asked.
“I broke away from the witch who gave me that power,” she said. “I… don’t know how much is left. I still have some skill for reading minds, but the speed, the strength, is gone. I guess that kind of magic is too.”
She still knew the theory of it, still had the feeling of it in her, but the paths to it felt burned raw by the loss of connection to Siobhan’s fountain. It seemed that all things had their price, and this was one she was willing to pay.
At least, if it didn’t cost all of them their lives.
Lord Cranston nodded. “I see. Can you still use a sword?”
“I’m… not sure,” Kate admitted. That had been something she’d learned under Siobhan, after all, yet the memories of her training were still there, still fresh. She’d won what she knew through days of “dying” at the hands of spirits, over and over.
“Then I think that we should find out before a battle in earnest, don’t you?” Lord Cranston suggested. He stepped back, giving a formal duelist’s bow, his eyes carefully on Kate, and drew his sword with a hiss of metal.
“With live blades?” Kate said. “What if I don’t have the control? What if—”
“Life is full of what-ifs,” Lord Cranston said. “Battle, even more so. I’ll not test you with a training blade only to find that your skill falls apart when there’s real risk.”
It still seemed like a dangerous way to test her skills. She didn’t want to hurt Lord Cranston by accident.
“Draw your blade, Kate,” he said.
Reluctantly, she did so, the saber fitting neatly into her hand. There were the remnants of runes etched into the blade where Siobhan had worked on it, but those were dull things now, barely there unless the light caught them. Kate took her guard.
Lord Cranston thrust at once, with all the skill and violence of a younger man. Kate barely parried it in time.
“I told you,” she said. “I don’t have the strength or speed I used to have.”
“Then you must try to find a way to make up for it,” Lord Cranston said, and immediately sent another thrust at her head. “War is not fair. War does not care if you are weak. All it cares about is if you win.”
Kate gave ground, cutting an angle to avoid being pressed back against the railings of the ship. She parried and parried again, trying to protect herself from the onslaught.
“Why are you holding back?” Lord Cranston demanded. “You can still see every thought of attack, can’t you? You still know every move that can be made with a blade, don’t you? If I make the Rensburg feint, you know that the response is…”
He made a complex