Rise of Empire (The Riyria Revelations #3-4)

“Aye, starboard tack. With fewer crew, and the same ship, we’ll be lighter and faster.”


They got the ship around and caught what wind they could.

“Here, Banner, take the tiller,” Wyatt said as he scanned the deck. “We can dump some gear and lighten the load further. Who’s that next to you?”

Wyatt stopped abruptly when he saw Thranic look up.

“What’s he doing on board?” Wyatt asked.

“Is there a problem, helmsman?” Thranic addressed him.

“You fired the ship!” Wyatt accused. “Royce told me he saw you throw a torch in the hold. How many oil kegs did you break to get it to go up like that?”

“Five, I think. Maybe six.”

“There were elves—they were locked in the hold—trapped down there.”

“Precisely,” Thranic replied.

“You bastard!” Wyatt rushed the sentinel, drawing his cutlass. Thranic moved with surprising speed and dodged Wyatt’s attack, throwing his cloak around Wyatt’s head and shoving the helmsman to the deck as he drew a long dagger.

Hadrian pulled his swords and Staul immediately moved to intercept him. Poe drew his cutlass, as did Grady, followed quickly by Defoe and Derning.

From the rigging above, Royce dropped abruptly into the midst of the conflict, landing squarely between Thranic and Wyatt. The sentinel’s eyes locked on him and smoldered.

“Mr. Wesley!” Royce shouted, keeping his eyes fixed on Thranic. “What are your orders, sir?”

At this everyone stopped. The ship continued to sail with the wind, but the crew paused. Several glanced at Wesley. The midshipman stood frozen on the deck, watching the events unfold around him.

“His orders?” Thranic mocked.

“Captain Seward, Lieutenants Bishop and Green, and the other midshipmen are dead,” Royce explained. “Mr. Wesley is senior officer. He is, by rights, in command of this vessel.”

Thranic laughed.

Wesley began to nod. “He is right.”

“Shut up, boy!” Staul snapped. “It’s time we took care of this business here.”

Staul’s words brought Wesley around. “I am no boy!” Turning to Thranic, he added, “What I am, sir, is the acting captain of this ship, and as such, you, and everyone else”—he glanced at Staul—“will obey my orders!”

Staul laughed.

“I assure you this is no joke, seaman. I also assure you that I will not hesitate to see you cut down where you stand, and anyone else who fails to obey me.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” Staul asked. “This is not the Emerald Storm. You command no one here.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Hadrian flashed his familiar smile at Staul.

“Neither would I,” Royce added.

“Me neither,” Derning joined in, his words quickly echoed by Grady.

Wyatt got to his feet slowly. He glared at Thranic but said, “Aye, Mr. Wesley is captain now.”

Poe, Banner, and Greig acknowledged with a communal “Aye.”

What followed was a tense silence. Staul and Bernie looked at Thranic, who never took his gaze off Royce. “Very well, Captain,” the sentinel said at length. “What are your orders?”

“I hereby promote Mr. Deminthal to acting lieutenant. Everyone will follow his instructions to the letter. Mr. Deminthal, you will confine your orders to saving this vessel from the Dacca and maintaining order and discipline. There are to be no executions and no disciplinary actions of any kind without my authorization. Is that clear?”

“Aye, sir.”

“Petty Officer Blackwater, you are hereby appointed master-at-arms. Collect the weapons, but keep them at the ready. See to it Mr. Deminthal’s and my orders are carried out. Understood?”

“Aye, sir.”

“Mr. Grady, you are now boatswain. Dr. Levy, please take Mr. Bulard below so that he can be properly cared for. Let me know if there is anything you need. Mr. Derning will be top captain. Seamen Defoe and Melborn, report to him for duties. Mr. Deminthal, carry on.”

“Your sword.” Hadrian addressed Staul. The Tenkin hesitated but, after a nod from Thranic, handed the blade over. As he did, he laughed and cursed in the Tenkin language.

“You’d have found that a bit harder than you think,” Hadrian replied to Staul, and he was rewarded with the Tenkin’s shocked expression.

Wyatt had everything nonessential and not attached to the ship thrown overboard. Then he ordered silence and whispered the order to change tack. The boom swung over, catching the wind and angling the little ship out to sea. Well behind them, the last light of the Emerald Storm disappeared, swallowed by the waves. Not quite so far away, they could see lanterns bobbing on the following ships. From the shouts, it was clear they were displeased at losing their prize. All eyes faced astern, watching the progression of lanterns as the Dacca continued following their previous tack. After a while, two ships altered course but guessed incorrectly and turned westward. Eventually all the lanterns disappeared.

“Are they gone?” Hadrian heard Wesley whisper to Wyatt.

He shook his head. “They just put out the lanterns, but with luck they will think we’re running for ground. The nearest friendly port is Wesbaden back west.”

“For a helmsman, you’re an excellent commander,” the young man observed.

“I was a captain once,” Wyatt admitted. “I lost my ship.”

“Really? In whose service, the empire or a royal fleet?”

“No service. It was my ship.”

Wesley looked astonished. “You were … a pirate?”

“Opportunist, sir. Opportunist.”





Hadrian awoke to a misty dawn. A steady breeze pushed the tartane through undulating waves. All around them lay a vast and empty sea.

“They are gone,” Wesley said, answering the unasked question. “We have lost them.”

“Any idea where we are?”

“About three days’ sail from Dagastan,” Wyatt answered.

“Dagastan?” Grady muttered, looking up. “We’re not headed there, are we?”

“That was my intention,” Wyatt replied.

“But Wesbaden is closer.”

“Unfortunately, I confess no knowledge of these coasts,” Wesley said. “Do you know them well, Mr. Deminthal?”

“Intimately.”

“Good. Then tell us, is Mr. Grady correct?”

Wyatt nodded. “Wesbaden is closer, but the Dacca know this and will be waiting in that direction. However, since it’s impossible for them to be ahead of us, our present course is the safest.”

“Despite our earlier differences, I agree with Mr. Deminthal,” Thranic offered. “As it turns out, Dagastan was the Storm’s original destination, so we must continue toward it.”