The riverboat pulled into the shallow eastern bay of Calay harbor, the deck crowded with waving and shouting men, some of them grinning, some weeping, some just staring in disbelief. The whole city celebrated the return of the Tierran refugees from Gremurr.
Queen Anjine had issued instructions that Jenirod’s list of surviving prisoners be copied, then she commissioned Saedran printing presses to spread the list across Calay and dispatched messengers up and down the coast and across the reaches of Tierra. Joyful families began to gather in the harbor districts, waiting day by day for the freed slaves to arrive. They tied welcoming banners on poles. Now, as Destrar Sazar guided the flatboat to the cargo docks, curious spectators hurried to catch the ropes and lay down gangways.
By now, the Gremurr captives were well fed and rested, clad in garments given to them in Stoneholm or from the river clans. Men, women, and children pushed forward, calling out the names of loved ones. Merchants brought out food; tavern owners shared wine and ale. People in the crowd embraced the refugees, whether they knew one another or not.
The number of hopeful families was far greater than returning refugees, however. Even when they did not see the names of lost loved ones on the printed lists, still they clung to hope. Yes, some of the freed prisoners had stayed behind in Gremurr and would return later, but many families would feel the pain of disappointment.…
* * *
When Vorannen informed Queen Anjine, she threw on her ermine-lined royal cape, grabbed her ceremonial crown, and accompanied the guard-marshall down to the docks with more speed than decorum. Word spread quickly, and people flocked in from the city’s districts to welcome the crowd of refugees. All work in the harbor had stopped for the day.
When the crowd noticed the queen’s arrival, a spontaneous cheer erupted. Anjine shaded her eyes, searching the excited faces for the one she wanted to see more than any other. Despite the joyful celebration, she had a heavy heart because of her obligation—not as queen, but as friend—to tell Mateo. But she did not see him.
The buzz of conversation grew louder, and the people pressed around her. Vorannen leaned close and whispered, “They want you to address them, Majesty.”
Caught in her role, Anjine tore her eyes away from her search, duty-bound to lead and inspire her people. “Yes, Guard-Marshall. I’ll speak.”
Vorannen clapped his hands for silence. The crowd quieted, except for a sporadic patter of conversation and laughter, like the last raindrops at the end of a downpour. Anjine drew herself erect and fashioned a smile, accepting their hopeful expressions, their relief. She was their queen, and they needed her too.
The words came naturally to her. “With indescribable joy I welcome you back to Tierra, back into the arms of Aiden. I’ll assign my staff to take your names and help reunite you with your families. For those of you from other reaches, from any other town across Tierra, I will grant you passage home, where you belong. Presters will be available to say prayers for you.”
Anjine swept her gaze over the crowd. The truth was hard, but necessary. “Some of you, sadly, will not find your missing fathers, husbands, brothers, or sons—at least not today. Some freed prisoners stayed behind at the Gremurr mines—those who could not make the journey before winter, or those who chose to stay and fight. Even so, many of our lost loved ones will never return.”
Anjine’s voice grew harder. “For too long the enemies of Aiden have enslaved or murdered loyal Tierrans. Let your grief become a weapon, your anger a shield! These returning prisoners are a sign from Ondun that we must continue the fight. We will crush the enemy and take back Ishalem.”
She let the deafening cheer flow over her, but she was anxious to be finished. She still needed to find Mateo. With a final wave, she let them go back to their celebrations. Then she hurried across the pier to the riverboat, where bearded Sazar remained on the barge, ushering stragglers off the deck; the river clansmen were anxious to gather new goods and get back to the business of hauling freight up and down the riverways.
The burly man was pleased to greet her. “Majesty, this is likely the most satisfying cargo I have ever delivered, but all is not happiness. We’ve compiled another list, as painstaking as possible.” He handed her a long roll of paper. “During the voyage, I had a Saedran clerk talk with the refugees, gathering as much information as possible about their fellow slaves who died over the years. Some of the names are sketchy, but they may help families to have answers.”
Anjine took the roll, nodding absently, and interrupted him with urgency. “And Mateo—Subcomdar Bornan? I have a very important message for him. I understood that he was with you escorting the refugees.”
Sazar’s bushy brows curled like a pair of startled caterpillars. “Oh, he didn’t want to stay for ceremonies, Majesty. As soon as we tied up at the docks, he was the first one ashore, heading for the Metalworkers’ District. What a smile on his face! I’ve never seen a man so anxious to see his wife.”
Anjine needed all of her strength to remain standing. She was too late.
As he hurried through the streets of Calay, Mateo was shocked to see how much damage the hurricane had done. Stacks of raw lumber were piled in the streets; many homes were partially rebuilt, while other cottages and shops had been abandoned and knocked down. He hoped Ammur Sonnen’s smithies and forges had not suffered such damage.
Mateo knew his way through the district by heart, and he took shortcuts through alleys, splashed through muddy thoroughfares where carpenters had spread sawdust from lumber mills to stabilize the road surface. Only one thought dominated his mind, though.
Now that he was back, he intended to stay with Vicka and away from the army for some time. He could work in his father-in-law’s smithy, help Ammur make swords and armor; though he didn’t have any experience working at a forge, he supposed he could be taught. He and Vicka could have children, a normal family, a quiet and contented life. She could take him away from all the turmoil of the world and the pain of the war; she could help heal the scars. Mateo loved his queen and country, but he also loved his wife. Even Anjine would have to agree that he had earned time for himself.
He could see the black smoke of forges up ahead. The neighborhood held many smaller smithies, but the Sonnen forge was the largest, with the greatest number of apprentices and journeymen, anvils and grinding wheels. He remembered all the times he had shared dinner with Vicka and her father, and he grinned to think of how oblivious Ammur had been to the romance blossoming between the two of them.
Mateo arrived with a smile on his face, a spring in his step, and joy in his heart, but he stopped in shock to see that the main Sonnen house had burned to the ground. The young workers toiled in sullen silence, without the usual banter and happy challenges they called to one another at work. Only one of the fires had been lit.
He did not see Vicka or hear her lighthearted scolding as she shamed the young men into working harder. Ammur stood listless, like a stunned ox.
When Mateo stepped through the wooden gate, Ammur Sonnen looked slowly up, his soot-streaked face filled with sorrow. Mateo hurried forward, but before he could say a word, the older man began to sob.
Mateo couldn’t speak, didn’t want to ask. He already knew the answer.