Page 9 of Beneath the Haunting Sea
And now she’d come to the sea.
The long days of immobility made her unsteady on her feet. She tripped as her guard hauled her along, his grip too rough just under her armpit. She tried to shake him off, but his fingers dug deeper. Salt-drenched wind whispered underneath the sack, and a chill randown her spine.
The harsh cries of birds and shouting men tangled with clanging bells and snapping ropes. Wooden planks swayed back and forth beneath her, scraping her feet through the holes in her ruined calfskin sandals. The wind stank of salt and fish and tar. Her free hand scrabbled to pull the sack off her head, and she caught a brief glimpse of stars and dark water stretching out to meetthe moon, before the guard jerked her across a deck and shoved her through a low door.
She nearly collided with a brown-skinned man in a naval uniform and blue cap, who caught her by the shoulders and steadied her. He looked about forty and had a captain’s sigil pinned to his collar—she recognized both uniform and sigil from the envoys who reported regularly to Eddenahr with shipping reportsfor the Emperor, though she didn’t remember seeing this particular captain before.
“Hey, now!” he said, peering behind Talia to frown at her guard. “There’s no cause to be discourteous to a lady.”
“You have your orders, Captain, and I have mine. She’s your responsibility now.” And then her guard was gone, his boots creaking back across the deck the way they’d come.
She was on a ship, Taliarealized belatedly, staring through the doorway at huge white sails that billowed full in the light of the moon. Men clambered on the rigging, hauling ropes and shouting to each other. The sea shimmered black beyond the rail.
It was only then that she understood the true scope of Eda’s words.I’m banishing you from Enduena, little sister.
“Welcome aboard, Miss Dahl-Saida.”
She turned back tothe captain, who gave her a polite bow. “I’m Captain Oblaine Al-Tesh, at your service. I believe you know my other passenger.”
He stepped aside so she had a clear view of what had to be the ship’s great cabin. In the center of the low chamber, lit by a green glass lamp swaying from the ceiling, stood a wooden table ringed with chairs. Behind it, square-paned windows, tall as grown men, were setinto the side of the ship, winking out into the night.
A woman crouched on one of the windowsills, the dirty red silk of her dress pooling in tatters to the floor, black hair hanging in knots on her shoulders. She lifted her head, remnants of kohl and gold powder smeared across her cheeks.
“Mama!” Talia cried out, lunging across the tilting cabin and into her mother’s arms. “I thought I’d lostyou—I thought you were dead!”
Her mother kissed her hair and hugged her fiercely. “My dear, dear girl. I thought I’d lost you too.” She sounded more tired than Talia had ever heard her, and dark circles sagged under her eyes. But her smile was bright. “It seems the gods are watching out for us.”
Talia flinched. She wished her mother wouldn’t bring the gods into this—sometimes she was as badas Ayah. “How can you say that, when everything went so wrong?”
Her mother’s smile vanished; she seemed suddenly listless and ill. “The gods saved us, Talia. Don’t blame them for what Eda did. I think she’s been planning this for a very, very long time, no doubt bribing supporters with her parents’ fortune. And I suspect the timing of the Emperor’s death was no accident.”
“Before I hear anyother treasonous remarks,” said Captain Oblaine behind them, “Her Imperial Majesty commanded me to give you this.” He held out a letter, sealed in red wax. “For you, Miss Dahl-Saida.”
She took it, breaking the seal with her thumb and squinting at the elegantly penned words in the dim light. Beneath her the ship creaked and swayed, and water slapped up against the hull.
Aria Dahl-Saida, formerly the Countess of Irsa, and her daughter, Talia Dahl-Saida, are hereby stripped of land and titles, and banished to the imperial province of Ryn for the duration of their lifetimes, under pain of death if they should ever attempt to return to Enduena, by order of Her Imperial Majesty Eda Mairin-Draive, gods-blessed Empress of Enduena, Queen of Ryn, and Ruler of Od.
Talia felt numb, seeing her fateinscribed before her eyes in stark ink. She passed the letter to her mother without a word.
Ryn was the most remote part of the Empire that Eda could possibly send them to. Besides Od, it was the only other non-mainland province, located thousands of miles northeast across the sea, and was little more than a large island. The Emperor had conquered Ryn on one of his first campaigns, shortly afterascending to the throne some forty years ago. Ryn’s only export was fish, and by all reports, its people were uneducated and boorish.
They might as well be going to the ends of the earth.
There was a knock on the door, and a sailor stepped in with a laden tray, which he balanced expertly against the roll of the ship.
“I expect you’re hungry,” said Captain Oblaine with a kind smile as the sailorset three places at the table and then left again.
Oblaine sat at the head of the table and poured tea, while Talia took a seat next to her mother. The two of them piled their plates high with biscuits and salted fish. A week ago, Talia would have sneered at such fare—now it seemed a feast fit for the Emperor himself. She’d had nothing but dust-dry bread and stale water since her party, and shefound it horrendously difficult to not devour everything in sight like a starving hound.
“Where are we?” she asked between mouthfuls.
The captain took a swig from his mug, which Talia suspected contained something stronger than tea. “Just leaving the main port in Evalla. If we catch a steady wind we should reach Ryn before autumn.”
Talia nearly choked on a biscuit. “That’s half a year fromnow!”
“It’s a long way. But I’ve made the journey many times, and perhaps the wind gods will favor us.”
“And the sea goddess too,” said Talia’s mother unexpectedly.
