ships anchored out in deeper waters, but the ride did nothing to still the nerves battling in Yanko’s stomach. His wrists were not bound, and nobody had taken the lodestone from him yet, but he sat on a hard bench, fenced in by towering Turgonian soldiers with polished boots and pressed, white uniforms. His eyes were even with the men’s shoulders. Arayevo and Lakeo occupied the bench behind him and were similarly hemmed in. Dak rode up front. For some reason, he warranted his own seat.
The oarsmen stole glances at Yanko between strokes as they rowed the longboat toward the closest ironclad. Perhaps because he wore the warrior mage robe, he rated more attention than the women. Or maybe it had to do with the parrot sitting on his shoulder, a parrot who kept planting images of a stack of seeds in his mind, an unsubtle reminder that Yanko had promised a treat in exchange for the legerdemain with the lodestone. He hoped he would find an opportunity to repay Kei for the favor, and he also hoped the captain of the ship didn’t try to make the parrot stay behind.
The looks from the Turgonians ranged from curious to hostile. Dak received a few covert glances, too, though nobody had spoken to him since the young officer in charge of the longboat had greeted him on the beach. None of the crew seemed to know who he was or how he had come to be on the island with a handful of Nurians, but the officer had called him, “sir.” It was one of the handful of Turgonian words Yanko knew. That didn’t tell Yanko much, since any senior officer would receive that honorific. At this point, Yanko would be shocked if Dak didn’t turn out to be a high-ranking officer.
“That thing’s bigger than the island,” Lakeo muttered as the longboat drew close to the massive iron hull. The ship towered over them, blocking out the sun and half of the sky.
The oarsmen turned the longboat sideways, then grabbed hooks that dangled down from above on chains. They inserted the hooks into reinforced eyelets at four points on their little craft, and a distant clanking sound came from above. Yanko grabbed his seat when the longboat lurched out of the water. Dak did not react.
As they were hoisted to the deck, Yanko rested his hand on the bump in his pocket, the hard outline of the lodestone. He wondered if his threat to destroy it would work on the Turgonians. It probably wouldn’t work on Dak. He knew too well what this mission meant to Yanko. At least the Turgonians shouldn’t have any mages on board, since their culture dismissed magic. Yanko hoped his own talents would give him an advantage, but they had never helped him get the better of Dak, and his robe would ensure these people knew exactly what he was.
A second longboat, also with a crew of soldiers, was lowered down from another part of the ship as a mechanical arm moved Yanko’s craft inward. As soon as it touched down, the oarsmen scrambled out. Dak hopped out, too, and Yanko followed, offering a hand to Arayevo and Lakeo. Neither accepted the help, climbing out on their own and looking around. Arayevo’s eyes were bright and curious—this was just one more adventure for her. Lakeo scowled at all the large, muscular men working on the deck. A few looked over at the newcomers—the captives, Yanko amended glumly—but most went about their tasks with professionalism. Yanko didn’t see any women and recalled that Turgonians did not have female soldiers.
“Lord Colonel Starcrest?” a gray-haired man in a black uniform with a lot of silver medals and badges walked up to the group.
Dak turned toward him, and the two men exchanged salutes. “Lord Fleet Admiral Ravencrest.”
That was all of the conversation that Yanko understood, for the men lowered their salutes, clasped wrists, and spoke rapidly in Turgonian, the admiral quite enthusiastic and animated and Dak his usual taciturn self. Half of his answers were grunts. Surprisingly, the admiral seemed eager to please. Yanko had the impression that Ravencrest was the lower-ranking man, though that shouldn’t be the case. The Turgonians had ground and naval troops with different ranks and hierarchies, but Yanko believed an admiral outranked a colonel, especially a fleet admiral. They both had warrior-caste names, too, though Yanko didn’t pretend to have any knowledge of whether all of those families were considered equal or if some had