Scimitar Sun by Chris A. Jackson Page A

what would he think of an alliance with the mer? She finished her port with exaggerated leisure and pushed the glass aside.
    “As I said, Count, if something floats in the Shattered Isles, Cynthia knows of it, and it does so at her pleasure. Please let me assure you and the emperor, that Cynthia Flaxal intends to let all peaceful shipping pass through the Shattered Isles unhindered and unmolested by anyone . There has been too much piracy in these islands for far too long. She will never allow that type of pillaging to return.”
    “That is reassuring,” he said, though he looked more alarmed than reassured. “Let me assure you, Lady Camilla, that it is Emperor Tynean’s goal to achieve the same. He sent me here to ensure that it is so, and will remain so.”
    “Then we have nothing to fear, milord Count.” She smiled brightly at him, then called the waiter forward to refill their glasses as she stood. “Shall we take our port out to one of the balconies and watch the sun set, gentlemen? I assure you, you have not witnessed beauty until you have admired a sunset in the Shattered Isles.”
    “I fear that its beauty will be mocked by your own, Lady…may I call you Camilla?” The count rose, extending his arm for her to take. He smiled broadly as she acquiesced. “And you must call me Emil. But tell me more of Master Ghelfan’s role here. Surely, one of such renown feels constrained, being so remotely located. His workmen must be mad with longing for the mainland.”
    “Master Ghelfan finds the solitude an asset.” She smiled at her escort and their companions as they strolled from the great hall, grateful that the conversation had shifted away from Cynthia. “He has an affinity for Cynthia’s designs, and his workers, for the most part, are local native folk trained right here by his master foreman.”
    “I would love a tour of the shipyard, if that is permissible.”
    “Oh, absolutely. Ghelfan has accompanied Cynthia on her trip, but we’ll talk to Dura first thing in the morning.”
    “Ah, Dura is Ghelfan’s foreman?”
    “Yes, she is…after a fashion,” she said.
    “She?” The count’s eyebrows arched again. “Dura is an unusual name for a woman.”
    “Dura is an unusual woman, but let me assure you, her bark is far worse than her bite.”
    “Ah, yes. I know the type.” He spared a meaningful glance at Sergeant Torrance, and the two chuckled at an obviously private joke. The secretary followed in silence.
    Camilla smiled in concert with their mirth and played the gracious host, but her mind spun furiously to discern the real meaning behind the count’s unlikely visit.

Chapter Four
    Cutthroats
    “Sounding, damn you!” Captain Seoril bellowed from beside the wheel of the King Gull . He swatted at the host of biting insects that were feasting on his blood, but didn’t really pay much attention to the discomfort. He was too occupied with not running his ship aground in this blasted tiny inlet. It was barely big enough to fit his little finger, let alone a galleon.
    “Three fathoms!” came the call from the fore chains. “Sand and mud!”
    “Boat crews, pull ahead!” The two sweating crews, forward of the ship, strained at their oars, pulling the small galleon forward. There was no way to sail up the channel in anything larger than a fishing smack. He often wondered how Captain Parek had ever found this blasted ditch in the first place.
    An overhanging mangrove caught one of the shrouds and showered the deck with leaves and broken twigs before a crewman with a machete hacked the branch away.
    “Blast this blasted ditch to the Nine Hells! Keep the blasted trees out of the rigging or I’ll send you out with the next jungle party!” He had ten men on the ratlines and two on the close-braced foremast yards to fend off the snagging foliage, and still they caught the trees at every turn.
    Finally, after hours of work, they entered a space wide just enough for their ship to turn around. Here,