Page 34 of Among the Burning Flowers
‘Our ships are not like any they have ever faced. If Harlowe can keep the plague off theRose, there will be no safer place.’
‘And what if he’s already gone?’
‘He won’t go without you, Estina. In all these years, has he ever given up?’
Melaugo drew a deep breath without answering. Liyat gave her a last unreadable look before she turned her mare towards the salt road.
Melaugo
GRONEYSO VALLEY
KINGDOM OF YSCALIN
CE 1003
Liyat rode like a windstorm, with Melaugo behind, weary to her bones. She never had much cause to ride, but Liyat sought relics all over Yscalin, and was used to the trials of horseback.
They kept to as much cover as they could, riding under trees and through fields of wheat, covering the most distance at night. Every so often, a wyvern soared overhead, forcing them off the road. The sound of their wings betrayed their approach.
At a certain point, Melaugo took the lead. She knew the way to Oryzon as well as she knew anything.
At the western end of the Groneyso Valley, they passed the remains of the ancient Rose Sanctuary. A sanctarian wandered in the rubble, her robe charred, wringing blistered hands.
Harlowe might well have already sailed, if the same chaos was descending on Oryzon. If so, they would have to ride to Nzene, which could take weeks or months. That was if the wyverns had not already reached the South. For all Melaugo knew, they could be appearing everywhere.
During the Grief, all they had craved was mindless violence. Even with the king’s surrender, she could not imagine how it would be any different now.
When they approached the Port of Oryzon, where Melaugo had eked out her formative years, the flock was not far behind. All day, the wyverns had been calling to each other in their wake. Melaugo wondered if the Knights Defendant had reached the coast first, to herald their arrival, or if these people were unaware that King Sigoso had surrendered to the Nameless One – but as soon as they grew close, the sounds of terror could be heard.
They rode to Halassa Street, to the house with the yellow door, where Harlowe lived whenever he stayed on the western coast. Melaugo pounded on the door, but there was no answer.
‘He’s gone.’ She almost laughed. ‘The bastard has left. Just as I was about to accept his offer—’
‘He could still be in the harbour,’ Liyat said.
She led her mare onward, and Melaugo followed, pulling the nervous palfrey past the imposing walls of the Customs House of Oryzon and down to where thousands of Yscals lined the docks.
The people swamped the small fishing boats, several of which had overturned, and climbed aboard any ship they could see by whatever means they could. The crews either helped them over or used rifles and harpoons to deter them. Melaugo caught sight of an urchin and tensed, seeing herself as that little girl, defenceless and alone. The girl looked her right in the eyes.
Before she could act, the crowd had engulfed the child.
Holding on to the brim of her new hat, she looked at the ships, many of which she knew well by sight. TheRedMoon, a caravel belonging to the Comptroller of Oryzon, was already some way out of the harbour. She must have been among the first to receive the warning.
Most of the others were merchant carracks. The Halassa Sea lapped at the nearest hulls, the greenish waves clouded by silt. As Melaugo watched, a woman used a loose rope to scale a Mentish flyboat, only for a gunshot to send her crashing down. Another corpse already floated nearby, circled by stained water. Someone began to pray aloud.
‘We can’t risk boarding those,’ Liyat shouted over the din. ‘We’ll be at the mercy of their crews.’
‘Better than wyverns!’
‘I would choose a wyvern over certain seafarers. At least it would be quick,’ Liyat said. ‘Did Suylos never tell you about keelhauling?’ She turned, shielding her eyes from the sun. ‘I told Harlowe that I meant to take you to Ortégardes if you refused his offer. He knows how long it would take us to get here.’
Melaugo could not reply, even as Liyat pulled her along the harbour, searching for a gap in the crowd. She knew this port like she knew her own freckles, and theRose Eternalwas nowhere to be seen.
Harlowe was gone. At last, he understood. The weight of her would sink the whole ship.
‘Estina.’ Liyat grasped her arm, fingers biting into her skin. ‘There.’
She pointed. Melaugo followed her line of sight, squinting against the glare of the low sun. In the distance, about two and a half miles away, was the outline of an Inysh man-of-war.
