“They’re on the way back.” The sailor was grinning from ear to ear.

Temar and I ran to the rail to see for ourselves. The Dulse and the Fire Minnow were indeed labouring towards us, favourable winds needing no wizardly assistance but the run of the tide already turning against them. D’Alsennin pennants streamed from their mastheads and cheering men lined each vessel’s rails.

“How far does noise carry over water?” I asked Temar in sudden alarm.

“The wind’s in our favour,” he assured me with a boyish grin.

I masked my impatience better than him but it still felt like half a season before the Dulse drew alongside with exquisite care. The Eryngo’s crew dangled woven straw fenders over her rails and sailors on the Dulse’s deck below held boathooks ready to save us from too hard a clash. They need not have worried. The ships came together as gently as a lover’s kiss and climbing nets and ladders were flung down from the Eryngo. I looked down from the height of our ship’s three additional decks.

“Ryshad!” Temar saw him and hailed urgently. He tucked the oily red cloth he’d been cleaning his sword with into his belt, sheathed his blade and came to climb up to us. He leaned on the rail for a moment and kissed me before swinging himself aboard.

“We were on top of them before they knew it.” Ryshad grinned through smears of leaf mould and green grime. A dark stain on his buff breeches was probably blood and the rusty smears on his shirtsleeves certainly were.

“They were barely keeping a watch,” Vaspret amplified behind him. “All tucked up nice in a nest in the woods.” He dug in a pocket and began untangling a waxed cord garrotte.

“Not a rat escaped,” Ryshad said before Temar could ask.

“You took no prisoners.” Guinalle was in the cabin door, face accusing.

Temar stifled a snort of irritation but Ryshad met the noblewoman’s gaze calmly. “No, but we did take casualties who’d appreciate your care.”

A few mercenary men and women, with bloodied dressings around slashes to arms and legs, were being helped across the Eryngo’s rails.

“Here’s the Fire Minnow.” Allin had come out on deck as well and pointed to Halice’s ship. The Eryngo lurched as it came alongside with less precision and Halice was already climbing a rope with a fine disregard for the crushing gap between the smaller ship and the Eryngo.

“How many got away?” Ryshad demanded.

“A handful, maybe more,” spat Halice, bitter as aloes. “Some cursed hunting party dallying their way back but sharp enough to take to their heels when they realised what was afoot.”

“We chased them,” protested Rosarn, her face taut with chagrin.

“It was a difficult assault,” Temar offered but Halice’s expression was perilously close to a sneer.

“Even if they know the ground, they’ll be slower through forest than we’ll be over water.” Ryshad was thinking through the implications. “We’ve seen no sign of beacons so they shouldn’t raise an alarm before we can attack.”

“We’re committed, whatever they do. The tide’s already on the turn.” Halice was determined to take full advantage of the phases of the moon. With the greater at full and the lesser at half, the tides wouldn’t be running this strong again until the double full towards the end of For-Summer. “Sieur D’Alsennin, who can I have to make up my numbers?” The Fire Minnow’s wounded were coming aboard.

As Temar hastily produced the list of those who’d thought themselves unlucky to draw a rune to miss out on the initial assault, Guinalle unbuttoned the cuffs of her grey gown and shoved the sleeves above her elbows. “Come on, Allin.” The women headed for a man writhing in silent agony as he clutched gory belly wounds, head pressed back against the board he’d been tied to.

Ryshad looked after them. “I do wish Shiv had been able to raise a surgeon,” he muttered. I caught him in a fierce embrace. His shirt smelt of age-old trees and wood smoke.

He kissed the top of my head. “Have they taken the sentry island yet?”

I nodded, catching his chin and hearing his teeth click. “Sorry. Yes, Allin was just scrying.” I tugged at the red cloth in his belt. “What’s this?”

“A present for you.” He pulled it free with a wicked smile. “The watchpost’s snake.”

“You’re sure none of your family ever turned pirate?” I teased. “You’re taking to this like a cat to cream.”

“Just doing what I’ve been trained for.” He drew me to him for a lengthy kiss that promised a sleepless night as soon as we got the chance.

“Just be careful.” I looked deep into his velvet brown eyes.

“I will.” He gazed down at me for a moment of heartwarming stillness. “You too.”

“I can’t come to much harm nursemaiding Allin and her ladyship,” I said caustically.

“You’re the best woman for the job.” Ryshad’s smile acknowledged my frustrations.

A piercing whistle from Halice called him away. They exchanged a few words before returning to their respective ships. Temar intercepted Ryshad who nodded his head reluctantly after a moment. D’Alsennin ran across the deck and disappeared over the side, intent on getting himself to one of the other coastal boats. He didn’t see the resigned shake of Ryshad’s head that I did.

“Livak!” Allin was beckoning, on her knees beside a wounded man, a coarse apron from somewhere protecting her gown. She swabbed blood from an encrusted gash across his chest, pausing only to throw his torn and stained shirt to me. “See what you can salvage from that.”

I got out a knife to strip the cleaner cloth into bandages. The Eryngo heaved beneath me as our reunited flotilla headed directly into the sound between the islands. The run of the tide carried us ever faster while I cleaned, salved and bandaged blessedly trivial wounds, binding wrenched ankles and bloodied knuckles, fetching and carrying at Guinalle’s command and Allin’s polite requests. The Lescari mage-lass applied those skills learned at her mother’s side in the battle-worn dukedom of Carluse. She kept up a murmur of reassurance while Guinalle worked with a steady litany of soft incantation. I’d wager the Old Empire owed a good measure of conquests to its adepts’ ability to limit casualties with Artifice. Most aetheric learning had centred on the Bremilayne shrine to Ostrin in an age when the god had been more concerned with healing than hospitality. I had no quarrel with that, not if Guinalle’s skills meant more of our people came home unscathed.

The waters narrowed as the land advanced on either side, hills leaning ever closer to the strait’s edge. The trees were taller than our mast and here and there an outcrop of dark rock hung ominous overhead. Sailors in the Eryngo’s crow’s-nests looked in all directions for any sign of the enemy. Lookouts in the prow fixed their eyes on the shadowed waters, searching for reefs and skerries. The Dulse and Fire Minnow slid stealthily in our wake, their sister ships Asterias and Nenuphar not far behind.

“Allin, we’re nearly there.” I was counting off the landmarks we’d scried for along the inlet.

“I’m ready.” She made to untie her gore-smeared apron.

“No, keep that on,” I told her. It wasn’t much of a disguise but it might keep the enemy from picking out the mage among the ordinary folk on deck. “How well can you see from here?”

Allin frowned. “Not very.”

“Try standing on the steps to the rear deck.” I didn’t want her up in plain view on the sterncastle but, Drianon curse it, the girl was unhelpfully short. Guinalle began ordering the lightly injured to carry the worst wounded below decks, her face grim but her hands steady as she folded them on the plaited cord girdle at her waist.

“Sail ho!”

After a frozen instant, the cry set everyone about their allotted tasks. Temar, Ryshad and Halice had gone over this plan time and again and if anyone fouled their duty, I’d personally see that they got to explain themselves to Saedrin.