63 Reefspur

The royal cog sailed south from Calay, pausing at each main village. The captain was in no hurry, and Prince Tomas enjoyed the slow progress, spreading the joyous news about his sister's betrothal to Jenirod.

Day after day, the ten-year-old stood on deck, drinking in the scenery of cliffs and inlets, forested hills, and thundering waterfalls that plunged into the sea. Over the past two weeks, he had seen many villages, but each one remained distinct in his memory. It was about time he experienced more of the world. Guard-Marshall Obertas was also a stern taskmaster, insisting that Tomas continue his studies inside his cabin, learning his letters, his numbers, and his history. As a prince, not just a boy, Tomas had a duty to make himself as knowledgeable as possible about all aspects of Tierra.

Outside the coral breakwaters of Reefspur, a local pilot rode out to meet the cog, guiding the captain safely into the sheltered harbor. Tomas stood amidships, watching and waving.

“Time to change into your formal clothing, my Prince.” Obertas had already donned his royal guard uniform again and slicked back his hair into a ponytail under a dark felt hat. “Make yourself presentable.”

In his cabin Tomas rummaged in a cedarwood trunk to find one of the clean (but uncomfortable) formal outfits, as well as the heavy cape lined with Iborian ermine. During days at sea, Tomas wore casual garments, just like the other sailors, but as soon as they approached the docks, the Reefspur villagers would come out to see him. It was his job as prince to cut a fine figure, which they would remember for a long time.

Tomas was eager to meet the villagers, but even more eager to sleep on a solid bed in one of their inns. He'd never been able to get much rest in his narrow shipboard bunk, nor in the swaying hammocks the sailors used. Despite his excitement for the voyage, the boy had been queasy for the first several days, until Guard-Marshall Obertas gave him a bitter-tasting root to chew, and that had quelled his seasickness.

Obertas was as much a teacher as a personal guard. When they approached each landfall, he made a point of instructing Tomas about the town, its environs, and its history. He listened closely, aware that a prince should know all about Tierra. When the royal cog entered the harbor, Tomas asked, “Wasn't Reefspur the site of a great battle a few years ago?”

“Yes, my Prince. Our ships defeated and burned a pair of Urecari war galleys. It was a great victory for Aiden, one of many.”

Again and again, Tomas heard accounts of how enemy raiders struck coastal settlements, but each time the resilient Tierran people had recovered. Blessed by Aiden, they clung to the Fishhook for strength and defied the enemy by rebuilding. Even so, the tales of devastation left Tomas shaken and angry. He fingered the ivory hilt of the dagger his grandfather Broeck had given him. “Why do they hate us so, Obertas? Why would people do such things?”

Obertas merely gave a somber nod. “Because they are Urecari animals.”

In their own boats, the people of Reefspur rowed out to welcome the royal cog as the ship entered the sheltered harbor. Everyone had been prepared for the prince's impending arrival, and he had another ten days of the procession before the ship reached the southernmost town in Tierra, after which the captain would change course and take them home.

Now, with the spotted Iborian cape over his shoulders, Prince Tomas crossed the wide plank onto the Reefspur docks, head held high. He raised his hands to greet all of the villagers who had come to see him. Obertas hovered close, tall and implacable, though silent. Aboard ship, the guardsman engaged in frequent casual conversation with Tomas, but in public Obertas held himself distant.

The small village was thriving. Most of the homes looked new and sturdily built, with a coat of fresh whitewash in preparation for his arrival. Chunks of coral adorned the walls and gardens, as well as dried starfish and polished shells from the reefs. The Reefspur people wore simple clothing, though their coral necklaces would have been the envy of the wealthiest women in Calay.

The town leader approached, clasping his hands. “May the Compass guide you, Prince Tomas! As you can see, Reefspur recovered from the enemy attacks some years ago, and our village is now stronger than ever. Thanks to the Tierran navy, we feel protected and safe.”

“And because of Aiden's protection, too,” Tomas said.

When the townspeople talked casually with him, he found the lack of formality refreshing. The prester came forward and invoked a quick blessing. In the village square, the people had set out long trestle tables, and pots of boiling salted water hung on sturdy tripods over cookfires. The fishermen had brought in a catch of sardine-like fish, which they dumped into the cauldrons. Using wire baskets, sweating men and women scooped out the cooked fish and drained the briny morsels onto platters, one of which they presented to Tomas. Boiled onions and carrots simmered in other pots.

After watching the boisterous town mayor take the first few bites, Tomas picked up the silvery fish and devoured them whole, bones, heads, and all. At the table close to his side, Obertas ate two whole plates of fish; he had eaten enough camp food and military rations that he would not let a good meal go to waste.

When the conversation died down, the mayor called on Tomas to give his speech. The prince stood, wearing a proud grin. “Most of you already know—my sister is going to be married to Jenirod, the son of Erietta's destrar.” The people cheered and whistled, though it was old news by now.

He felt very much an adult as he continued his well-rehearsed words. “Queen Anjine wishes she could visit you herself, but she sent me in her place. I am so happy to meet you all, and to see your fine villages.” Though he was stuffed and already a little sleepy, Tomas knew he'd be expected to spend the afternoon touring the town and greeting villagers, shopkeepers, bakers, and fishermen. He said, “May the Compass guide us all.”

Their response was resounding: “May the Compass guide
us all.”