Boersma called out to Janis, in Spakka, and on his response all the Spakka turned and followed Pat. Janis saluted the Captain.
“Hold on there,” said Captain Larroche, “you can’t follow them.”
“We follow the Princess, not you,” snarled Stiphleek and they were gone.
Sergeant Russell left the East entrance and returned, speaking to Lieutenant Mactravis.
“By your leave, sir, I shall prepare our stores and the horses. Thirty minutes, I will take three men.”
He turned without waiting for a reply, touched Little, Graves and Grey Fox and left at a run.
“Husk,” said Lieutenant Mactravis, “please prepare two biers and bring our comrades to the palace.” Husk nodded and picked up discarded spears, unwanted by the populace in their looting.
“Captain,” continued Mactravis, “the Rajah will mount us and we may be back in less than a week, but I would advise you to sail straight away. Without doubt the Havant will have ships waiting for your departure and the longer you wait the more danger you will be in. We will manage.”
“What about my protection from pirates?”
“With your skill at sailing, we are superfluous. She is our Fighting Princess. I cannot leave her body to be defiled by foreigners and if I tried my men would not follow me.” He held out his hand. “Good luck, Captain. It has been a pleasure.”
Epilogue
T
he small skiff pushed out from the headland, up went the sail and went running down the wind in the dusk. The girl at the tiller prayed no watchers could see her; with the driving rain they should seek shelter.
Her wait on the headland, camped out, already stretched to forty five days. Her stores of food might last her another three days, her body thin and her face bleak from the meagre rations. Finally the ship she awaited appeared on the horizon and she put to sea on intercept.
As she closed on the huge ship, she realised she had been seen and waved madly. A man come to join the sailor looking at her, holding a crossbow. She waved again, coming in fast towards the ship and started to pull the sail down awkwardly - she possessed little knowledge on how to sail a boat.
A man shouted at her from on board, gesticulating with abrupt hand movements and she realised with horror the ship would run down her small skiff. She dived into the sea.
Coming up, she turned and looked with despair at the bulk of the ship gliding past her, the bows driving over her skiff and crunching it up, seeing all her hopes and dreams go with it. A shout made her look up. A dark face looking down at her.
“Grab this quick, before you get sucked under!”
She didn’t understand but the rope he threw landed in front of her and she pounced, holding tight as the sea started to pull her. Her arms nearly went out of their sockets as she took the strain and found herself rushing along the surface of the water, spluttering as waves hit her face. She ducked her head, holding her breath, and struggled to get her foot up and into the loop at the end of the rope. The rope started to become more perpendicular, before pulling her out of the water and to thud painfully against the side of the ship, almost making her lose her grasp on the rope.
She shot up the side of the ship, where strong hands grabbed her and pulled her aboard. She gasped her thanks, staring open mouthed as she realised the dark face belonged to a huge, dark man. Except for his teeth, which shone out of his smile.
Another man came up, clearly an officer.
“Who the hell are you and what do you think you are playing at?” he asked with heat. “Don’t you realise these ships can’t stop like your little skiff? You are lucky to be alive!”
“No choice,” she gasped, “please, I must speak to the Captain.”
“You certainly will. Bring her along, Wiru.”
Wiru helped her up the ladder to the poop deck where she found herself in front of a tall man, greying at the temples.
“Yes, I am Captain Larroche,” he looked at her levelly from his weather-beaten face. “I trust there is a good reason for forcing yourself aboard.”
“Sir, I am here to give warning to one of your crew who may be in danger. A girl who joined you before you sailed, dark hair, called Sara. A mercenary.”
“There is nobody aboard by that name.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Did you leave her somewhere? Too early to return, perhaps?”
“I think you should explain yourself further, what sort of message is so important to get across.”
She pulled herself together and thought. Maybe the Princess had revealed herself, and the Captain protected her.
“The situation in the country changed radically in the time since your departure, sir. It is dangerous for her here.” Did a flash gleam in his eyes? No, he was too much a trader.
“In what way did the country change?” His voice stayed level and gave nothing away.
“We have no king,” she said, simply.
“Oh, hell,” said the Captain and the officer who brought her to the cabin swore behind her.
“What happened? He was my friend,” this last said softly.
“Assassinated. Crossbow bolt from nowhere. Parliament cannot find the perpetrator. Indeed the King may have survived, but Count Rotherstone insisted on using his own doctor.”
The Captain passed his hand over his face. “Don’t tell me, Count Rotherstone is in charge. How has the country reacted?”
“The people are not happy. But he is not in charge. Parliament took over and the country is being run by a minister. The army to the north is undecided and not making patrols while arguing in the barracks. In Harrhein itself Count Rotherstone assumed control, but Parliament revealed its own army, called the New Model Army, supposed to be very advanced. No nobles amongst the officers. They ignored him and rule. Fearaigh seceded. They gathered around a general called Connor who swears allegiance to the Starrs.”
“Ha! Good man, Connor. What about Rikklaw’s Port? And the Priesthood?”
“Rikklaw’s Port is under martial law. There is a new Archbishop, Lord Auterns ate something that disagreed with him. The new one is not recognised by the bishops, imposed on them by Parliament, a puritan. All ships coming in are being searched, and the crew interviewed.”
“Looking for the Princess,” breathed the Captain.
“I noticed you didn’t ask about her,” the girl smiled for the first time, and the Captain frowned. She breathed in deeply. “What will you do now?”
The Captain glanced at the other officer. “We can’t go to Rikklaw’s Port. We’ll head for Westport and see if we can speak to Connor. Feel the situation from there.” He turned back to the girl and frowned. “So who are you, girl? You must know my loyalty to the Starrs or you wouldn’t speak this way.”
“My name is Luce. I am the Princess’ spy. I need to speak to her.”
“Thought as much. Well, I spoke the truth, she is not on board. She is also dead. Killed by a Havantine ambush. The country is in a bad way.”
--oo0oo--
Thank You for reading!
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading
In Search of Spice
. I certainly enjoyed writing it! I spent two years writing and re-writing the book, and although I knew the rough outline of the story, the actual details amazed and transfixed me as they unfolded. For I create in my head a character for each person and that person must then act in character throughout the book.
Hence some plot lines which I planned just didn’t work, so I allowed the character to do what they should do with dramatic results. Sometimes I found myself spending hours researching a tiny detail for a scene when a character wanted to do something unexpected. It is new to me until I write it down.
So I embark on the next book with great excitement, wondering where it will take me. History shows that a few men can create huge waves, yet history is usually made by ordinary people coming together with a set purpose.
In the meantime, I have a number of story lines to explore. I am writing a series of short stories to examine the characters of many of the minor characters - and some of the major ones. Already written are stories about Sergeant Andy Russell and Sung Bai Ju while Suzanne’s early days are in progress. I have a story in my head about Corporal Little, though it is set in the future of this time line.
Please let me know what you think of the characters, who do you like best? Who are you rooting for? Who would you like to get to know better? Contact me via
Facebook.com/harrhein
or at
www.harrhein.com
.
Finally, I would like to ask a favour. As you may be aware, reviews are terribly important to modern authors. Please take a moment to post a review of the book, good or bad, perhaps saying what you liked and what you didn’t. Feedback is wonderful! Email me a link to the review and I will say thank you with a free copy of one of my short stories. Just tell me which one you would like.
Thank you for spending time with me in my world.
Rex Sumner
About the Author
R
ex is English, but was born in Java, Indonesia and has spent many years in the Far East. He speaks Indonesian and Malay, sadly he has forgotten his Javanese, Dutch, Thai, Hokkien and Teow Chu.
He has had an interesting life - as a youngster worked his passage on a container ship to Australia where he worked as a cowboy, gold-miner, door-to-door salesman and fruit-picker, before switching from Zoology to the Army to study at Sandhurst.
He saw active service in Northern Ireland and was Logistics Officer for Operation Drake in Indonesia. A country manager for an international tobacco trader at 25, he spent two years during the Cold War with MI6 before returning to the UK where he and his wife raised his two sons while working in marketing and publishing, with forays into NLP and personal development. Now they are adult, he and his wife have moved back to the Far East where he travels, writes and researches.
He has always had a passion for writing and this was rekindled by telling stories he made up on the spot to his sons.
His hobbies are angling, reptiles, orchids, reading and hockey, though he fears that in his late 50’s he is now a little old to keep playing the latter.
His wide experience and knowledge are interwoven into the tapestry of his writing.
If you have any questions for Rex, please feel free to use his Facebook page.
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