Chapter 4

Starhaven, Kingdom of Sidor

Three weeks after the coronation, William found himself walking up the gangplank of a massive ship, hugging himself tight against the chill winter air. William had thought he’d have more time before his step-father shipped him off to Lynese, what with ice still floating in the harbor, but as soon as the Blessings day ceremonies ended, Edmund had declared that, now that the Maw was closed, it was time for him and his Uncle Aldric to get started.

“The Lion’s Pride is the most powerful ship we have,” Aldric said as they ascended the gangplank onto the deck, seeing William looking up at the massive ship. “It was Gavric’s ship. There isn’t anything afloat that can touch us in this.”

“I’m not worried about that,” William said as confidently as he could.

“Ever since we left the palace, you’ve had a look like someone just took the last wyvern out of the coop,” Aldric said, stopping as they reached the deck of the ship and turning William to face him. “If it’s not the journey, what’s troubling you?”

William hesitated, looking down at the deck, “It’s nothing, Uncle. Just nervous about my first time sailing.”

Aldric studied him for a moment before speaking, “Come now, Will. We may not have spent a lot of time together as you grew up, but I know you well enough to know that isn’t what’s bothering you. Something’s weighing on you more than just that.”

With a sigh, William relented, “It’s my father and the way he’s just sending me off. I know he’s wanted me gone for years, and with King Gavric gone, he finally has his chance to get rid of me. I know you said to make the best of it, but it still makes me so mad.”

“I know, and I’m sorry I can’t say anything that will make that feeling go away. The best I can do is try to convince you that this is an opportunity, and suggest you at least try your hardest to pretend that that’s the truth. You’ll be surprised to find that, sometimes, just believing something hard enough will end up making it true.”

“How can I just pretend like he doesn’t hate me, or that this will make any difference? I don’t think, no matter how hard I try, that I can forget how he treats me.”

“I didn’t say forget; that would be asking too much. I guess I’m trying to say you shouldn’t let it rule you. Focusing on your anger toward him only gives him more power over you. Ignore it and focus on what you need to do and do your best at it. I’ve always found the best way to deal with people like your father is to just ignore their games and petty jealousies and try to excel at whatever’s put in front of you. Make him bitter because of your success, instead of you being bitter at his neglect.”

Before William could think of a reply, he was distracted by a tall, broad-shouldered man with blond curly hair and vivid blue eyes walking up to them. William just stared in surprise. Everything about the man, from his stature to his blond hair and blue eyes, to the curving tattoos on his neck identified him as being from Thay. Considering how most people from Sidor, and Lynese for that matter, felt about Thayans and that Thayans tended to return the feelings in equal measure, it was completely baffling why one would be on the Sidorian flagship.

William had never actually met anyone from Thay before, although he had caught glimpses of their delegations during audiences with his Uncle Gavric. Thay was a land of pirates and heretics, and they had little to do with the people of the two other major continents. What he did know about them had mostly come from his tutors.

When the Ancients had fallen in the Cataclysm, their great continent had cracked and ripped apart, forming the three nations of Sidor, Lynese, and Thay, all centered around the Maw. But while Sidor and Lynese had recovered to an extent, Thay had become a barren desert, wrecked by the wild magics unleashed during the sundering of the world. Its people eked out a living on specialized drought-resistant crops and piracy, but mostly piracy.

More worrying, at least to most non-sailors, was their predominant religion. Unlike Sidor and Lynese, who followed the Acolytes in their worship of the Ancients, revering the magical artifacts and history of the past, the Thayans had embraced the Purifiers. This shadowy faith taught that magic had corrupted the world and its remnants must be destroyed to cleanse the land. Considering what magic had done to their homeland, perhaps it was understandable that many Thayans would adopt this belief. But their destruction of some of the most powerful of the artifacts left behind after the fall of magic was seen as a treachery so deep that its sin passed down to later generations of believers. It was a grudge that most people, at least on Sidor, held.

So much so that, three hundred years ago, tensions had erupted into a religious war, one of the only times Sidor and Lynese had allied against a common foe. Ostensibly, it had been over Thayan piracy, but most knew the Purifiers’ agenda had been the real cause. The fact that his ancestor had led the Sidorian armies in that fight was one of the main reasons his family didn’t get more flak for the apparent Thay blood somewhere far back in their line, evident in their blond hair. It made all Whittons stand out from the rest of Sidorians, who mostly had hair in shades of brown and black. The fact that William had light brown hair had always made him stand out from the rest of the family, forever marking him as an outsider in the family.

“William, I’d like you to meet Sergeant Eskild Alsufi,” Aldric said. “He’s been my right-hand man for years and will be assisting us on this campaign.”

Eskild inclined his head respectfully. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Your uncle has told me great things about you, including how good a swordsman you are becoming.”

His accent was thick, like there were too many letters in his mouth and he wasn’t able to get them all out. On top of the surprise that his uncle’s right-hand man was a Thayan, was the fact that Aldric had talked to him about William. Other than the last month or so since Gavric’s death, he and his Uncle Aldric spoke maybe once or twice a year and didn’t have much in the way of a relationship. Which made it surprising that he would tell his right-hand man anything about William, let alone say good things about him.

“I ... I hope I can live up to his praise,” he stammered.

“While we’re on campaign, during times when we’re not engaged with the enemy, you’ll be assisting Eskild with his duties. Consider it a chance to learn the intricacies of war firsthand,” he said before lowering his voice conspiratorially. “And if you’re lucky, Eskild may even give you some pointers or spar with you. He’s the finest fighter I’ve ever seen.”

William just looked at the Thayan, still trying to wrap his head around everything that had just happened.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to discuss our route with the captain,” Aldric said. “The northern seas will still be choked with ice, so we’ll have to plot a careful course. William, use this time to learn a little about what you’ll be doing on the campaign from Eskild. We have at least two weeks until we land in Lynese, so this will be a good time to prepare you for what’s to come.”

“We could always sail around to the Eastern side of Sidor and cut past Thay to the south,” Eskild suggested wryly.

“I think not,” Aldric chuckled, clasping William’s shoulder warmly before heading towards the front of the ship.

William glanced back at the docks of Starhaven, watching the bustling activity as the last supplies were loaded onto the other ships in their fleet and the gangplanks were pulled up in preparation for making sail. Beyond the docks, the white towers and steepled roofs of the capital city rose up, the palace prominently visible on its hilltop perch overlooking the harbor.

“So, how does a Thayan warrior become the right hand of one of Sidor’s dukes?” William asked, turning back to Eskild.

The sergeant smiled, his blond beard crinkling around his mouth, “Your uncle bested me in battle and I became his captive. Aldric can tell a good fighter when he sees one.”

“He captured you? During a raid?”

“I was part of a war band, trying to pillage along Sidor’s eastern coast. We thought the lands north of Shadowhold, where we normally raided, would be easy pickings. But your uncle set a trap and ambushed us in the dead of night. A large number of us were killed, and a dozen or so, including me, ended up in chains.”

“And you were left as a prisoner?”

The Thayan shrugged, “My family didn’t have the means to ransom me back, even if they had wanted to, which they didn’t. I rotted in a dungeon for over a year. But eventually, Aldric realized he could make better use of me, and I was given a choice. Keep wasting away in chains, or pledge my service to him.”

“That must have been difficult, going from captive to this.”

“I don’t think either of us intended for it to happen. I thought it would be an easy way to escape the dungeon and get back home, and join a new war band. I don’t know exactly what he expected, but I don’t think it was this. Over time, though, I saw what kind of man he was; how he treated others, friend and enemy alike. It’s hard not to follow someone like that.”