Raesinia hit the water with a splash that set her skin to tingling. It was warmer than she’d expected, heated by the sun on the Vor’s long progress south, murky with suspended dirt. She kicked downward, well below the surface, and let out all the air in her lungs in a stream of silver bubbles. Her chest started burning as she began to swim, her body screaming for air, but she had long since grown used to ignoring its importunate demands. She kicked steadily, feeling the slow tingle of the binding as it worked to repair the damage she was doing to herself. At least I’m not impaled on anything this time.
It was a long way to the south bank, and Raesinia wasn’t the strongest swimmer. She tried to keep herself oriented, swimming diagonally against the current, but it was impossible to stay on a consistent heading in the muck. That was all right, though. D’Andorre couldn’t watch the entire riverbank, and he’d expect to have plenty of warning to intercept any boats the Dominant put out.
For a while, suspended in featureless swirls of brown water, she felt like she wasn’t making any progress at all. Then the riverbed came into sight, gradually getting closer as she approached the shore, until her feet started to stir up great clouds of river mud. Raesinia drew her legs in and stood up, her head breaking the surface of the water, and she finally let her body draw the breath it needed.
She stood there, chilly and dripping, while the binding worked its way through her and fixed whatever her suffocation had broken. When the tingling behind her eyes went away, she waded up the shore. It wasn’t clear where the water ended and the land began, here. The Bottoms were a sucking, rotting bog, without much to distinguish between muddy ground and muddy river. By trial and error she found a patch sturdy enough to support her, then turned in a full circle. She oriented herself on the Dominant, easily visible at the head of the fleet. From there she traced the line she should have swum, and found the bone white dead tree Marcus had given her for a landmark. It was about a quarter mile up the shore. The current must be stronger than I thought.
She squelched in that direction, stumbling through mud that came up to her ankles and through occasional pools of stagnant water. As she got closer, she was relieved to see a one-?horse coach waiting, with Marcus sitting on the driver’s box, looking uncomfortable in civilian clothes and a high-?collared coat. Raesinia waved to him, and he looked her over, then did a double take.
“Raes?” He jumped down from the box. “Good God. You look like...”
“Like I just swam the river and then walked through a swamp?” She wiped a glob of mud from her face and grinned. “I hope you found me a change of clothes. I don’t think I want to address anyone looking like this.”
“Of course.” He opened the door to the carriage, and Raesinia was pleased to see a stack of towels sitting on the bench. “Alek should have everything ready.”
Raesinia stepped up, and Marcus hurried to get the carriage turned around. He was an inexpert driver, but the horse was old and tired and they weren’t in any hurry. They were on one of the many winding paths through the Bottoms, twisting and turning to stay on dry ground, and occasionally crossing an impromptu bridge of planks and logs. Before long they pulled out onto the River Road, a more official thoroughfare, which roughly paralleled the riverbank as it ran north toward the city.
The road passed just under the bastion of the southern water battery, which made Raesinia a little nervous, but there was no reason for anyone to suppose that a cheap one-?horse cab held the Queen of Vordan and her highest-?ranked general. Armsmen were out in force, with their green uniforms and tall staves of office, though traffic in the markets they passed through seemed to be sparse. The city felt like it was holding its breath, Raesinia decided. She couldn’t guess if that boded well or poorly.
While they drove, she cleaned herself up a bit, utterly ruining several towels in the process. By the time they turned north to cross the Grand Span to the Island, she was merely grubby rather than dripping with mud, and she’d detached several leeches. The binding flared to life again, and the coin-?sized holes they’d cut in her skin began to fade.
The road led directly from the foot of the Grand Span into the Triumph, but Marcus turned left, along a street of high-?class hotels. He stopped in front of one called Montarn’s and came around to open the door.
“Take this.” He handed her his coat. “Just until we get upstairs.”
She wrapped it around herself, concealing both her features and the filth that coated her. Marcus led the way into the hotel lobby and directly back to the stairs, with Raesinia hurrying after. She wondered how long it would be before the staff noticed the muddy footprints on their carpet. On the third floor, he brought her to a room and knocked, and the door was opened from within.
“Marcus?” Alek Giforte said. He wore his Armsmen uniform, and his face was pale and harried. “Did you bring— Oh! Your Highness. I didn’t—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Raesinia said, waving a hand and flicking tiny bits of mud on the wall. “But I hope this place has a bath.”
It did, it turned out, with hot and cold running water. That was certainly something she’d missed in her time at sea. She filled the tub once to wash off the mud, then let it empty and filled it again to soak for a few minutes in clean water so hot it made her skin flush pink. It took another few minutes to get her hair into some semblance of order.
Marcus had left her clothes just inside the bathroom door. As she’d requested, the outfit was nothing elaborate, a simple dress in dark blue and white, suggesting the colors of the Vordanai flag. A few pieces of silver jewelry completed the ensemble. Alek has good taste, Raesinia reflected, as she examined herself in the mirror.
She emerged to find the two men waiting nervously. Marcus had changed back into his uniform, complete with the column-?general’s stars on his shoulders. Alek got to his feet and bowed gracefully.
“Welcome home, Your Highness,” he said. “I’m glad I could be of assistance.”
“Marcus was certain you’d be reliable,” Raesinia said. “I assume he’s explained the situation?”
“Fully,” Alek said. He shook his head. “There had been rumors that the Deputies were going to seek terms from Janus, but I had no idea they’d actually sent a messenger.”
“How do the people feel about it?” At his slight hesitation, she added, “Be honest, please.”
“People are... worried,” Alek said. “Surrendering goes against the grain, obviously. But after the Battle of Alves, there’s not a lot of confidence that Janus can be stopped. And of course there are some—?a minority, but not an insignificant one—?who support him. They’re not open about it, but they’re there.” He grimaced. “We’ve had a hell of a time keeping a lid on things.”
“And are we going to get a crowd today?”
“For a certainty,” Alek said. “I only worry that we may get more than we bargained for. If enough Janus supporters turn up, we could have a riot on our hands.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Marcus said.
Raesinia nodded. “Let’s get moving.”