71 Calay Castle
Anjine reached the castle angry, offended, and in no mood for courtesy. A messenger from Uraba would have made her wary under any circumstances, but because his demand to see her had interrupted such a special occasion, she had half a mind to let the man cool off for a few days in a squalid cell.
She hated leaving Mateo's wedding ceremony. Being there for him as a friend meant so much to her. But she was also the queen of Tierra. No one understood that better than Mateo.
Nevertheless, this had better be important.
The Uraban messenger claimed that his news had something to do with Tomas. Fortunately, a patrol captain out in the coastal waters, recognizing the importance of this man's message, had called Tierran warships to surround the strange vessel and escort it directly to Calay harbor. Anjine knew full well that if it had been Destrar Tavishel who intercepted the foreign ship, he would have sent the courier to a prisoner camp without bothering to interrogate him.
Anjine needed to hear what he had to say.
Flushed and annoyed, she took no time to compose herself; rather, she strode in front of her guards and retainers through the castle's grand foyer and directly into the throne room like an unexpected windstorm blowing in from the sea.
Her abrupt arrival startled the Uraban emissary, who turned. He did not seem to know whether to bow or abase himself. The foreigner wore baggy silken clothes of blue and brown, slightly faded; his odd-looking olba had been rewrapped tightly around his dark hair.
In short, he was not at all what Anjine expected—no haughty or supercilious man wearing the jewels and ornamental trappings of his office. Rather, he looked like a poor merchant or fisherman, completely unaccustomed to dealing with political leaders. He was nervous, and his dusky skin had a gray cast. His lips opened and closed like the mouth of a gigged fish, but no sound came out.
Anjine spoke curtly as she walked forward to take her place on the throne. “For years, the only communication we've received from your countrymen has been in the form of swords and schemes. Who are you? What is it you need to say to me, and how does it concern my brother?”
The man bowed, struggling to gather his wits. “My name is Khalig, and I have come directly from Ishalem. I am a sailor, a merchant.” He tugged at his Uraban tunic, which seemed clean enough, though not an expensive cut.
“And you are the best envoy Soldan-Shah Omra could send? What is it? Speak up, man!”
“I… I come here on behalf of Kel Unwar, who is the provisional governor of Ishalem in the soldan-shah's absence. I apologize that I am not a person of greater importance. I was chosen because I had the first available ship. I merely bring a message concerning Prince Tomas.” Again, he kept his eyes averted.
A lump of terror formed in Anjine's chest, but she refused to show any weakness, especially in front of this man. “What about my brother?”
Khalig could sense that his life hung in the balance. “Kel Unwar instructed me to inform you that the royal cog was captured on the open sea. In retribution for atrocities committed by Aidenists, Prince Tomas of Tierra is being held prisoner in the governor's residence in Ishalem, and the surviving members of his crew have been sent to Urecari work camps.”
Khalig continued to speak, even though an instant uproar drowned out his words. Anjine's eyes crackled as she rose from the throne. She was now a thunderstorm in feminine form. “How dare you accuse Tierrans of atrocities, after what the Urecari have done to us, year after year! How dare you take hostages! How dare you lay a hand on my brother!”
“I am just a messenger, Majesty. I-I was not present.”
All she could think of was how excited Tomas had been to embark on the voyage down the coast. Marshall Obertas had gone along to protect the boy, and she knew the royal guard would never have surrendered. “How do we know this isn't another instance of Urecari trickery? What proof do you offer?”
Khalig fumbled with a leather pouch tied to his belt, and the guards in the throne hall stiffened as he withdrew a dagger with an ornately carved handle of mammoth ivory. Tomas's dagger. Anjine's heart fell as she recognized it immediately. She did not need to see it more closely. The guards came forward now, hands on their own blades.
Khalig finally lost his resolve and collapsed to his elbows and knees, abasing himself. “It is but the message I was commanded to bring, Queen Anjine. Prince Tomas lives and is unharmed, but by the Eye of Urec, I had no prior knowledge of what Kel Unwar did. Please do not kill me!”
Anjine felt coldness seep through her veins now. “Your life is not forfeit, Khalig—not yet. Tierra is a civilized land, and that is not how we do things here. We are not monsters.”
Khalig looked up, his face a tangled mixture of disbelief and indignant anger. “You say that after what Tierrans have done to our innocent people?” He rose to his knees in defiance, ready for a noble execution.
Anjine ground her teeth. First and foremost, she had to get her brother back unharmed, whatever the cost. “And what ransom does your governor demand?”
“He… he did not say, Queen Anjine. He merely told me to inform you. I-I am certain other messages will be forthcoming.”
Anjine felt fury roiling up within her and feared it would outstrip her reason. If she faced this worthless man a moment longer, she might be provoked to actions she would later regret. That might even be part of the Urecari plan….
She spoke in a very low voice, heavy with threat. “You will take a message to Kel Unwar, or the soldan-shah, or whoever holds our prince: We demand to know what ransom he asks. Guards, please escort Khalig immediately back to his ship. No one is to harm him, but I want him gone with the outgoing tide.”
The men shoved and hauled the Uraban roughly from the throne room.
Anjine returned to her seat and sat back, lacing her fingers together. This is not the way we do things in Tierra. She wondered if the very nature of the war had changed.