The Bridge Kingdom (The Bridge Kingdom #1)(88)

Bells clanged riotously in the city.

“Shit!” Aren shouted. “We need to get past the breakwater before they lift the chain.”

Lara’s gaze skipped across the water to the twin towers flanking the gap in the breakwater, to the heavy steel chain that was creaking upward.

“Full sail!”

The deck was organized chaos as the Ithicanians hauled on lines, white canvas streaming skyward. The ship leapt across the waves toward the gap, but the chain was rising just as fast. Even if they managed to get across, it would tear loose the rudder and they’d be easy pickings for the Maridrinian navy.

“We can’t hit that gap with full sail,” Jor shouted. “We’ll be tossed up on the rocks.”

“Get them up,” Aren ordered. “All of them.”

Lara clung to the rail, her hair whipping out behind them with the speed of their progress. Yet the expressions on the crews’ faces told her it wasn’t enough. That they were headed toward a disaster that would see them all drowned or captured, which would amount to the same thing.

And there was nothing she could do to save them. Even if she jumped overboard, the ship would be trapped. Serin and her father would never let them go free.

Slamming her fists on the rail, Lara snarled in wordless fury, despair carving her insides hollow. Despite everything, her father was going to win.

Aren’s hand caught hers. “The wind—it gusts around the hill and through the gap in the breakwater. If we time this just right, it might work.”

“What might work?” The chain was perilously close.

“You’ll see.” He shot her a grim smile. “Hold on to the rail, and for the love god, don’t let go!” Then he let go of her hand and heaved on the wheel.

As he did, an enormous gust of wind struck them broadside. The rigging groaned, ropes and wood and canvas straining, on the verge of snapping, and the ship heeled over. Further and further and Lara shrieked, clinging to whatever she could, certain the vessel would capsize.

The ship shuddered, a loud scraping filling Lara’s ears as the chain dragged along their port side. The noise was horrific, wood splintering and cracking, their speed flagging even as the wind eased, the ship slowly righting itself.

“Come on!” Aren shouted while Lara stared up at the soldiers manning the breakwater towers, their eyes wide with astonishment.

Then they were through.

Regaining her footing, Lara stumbled to the side of the ship to look back. Arrows rained down on their wake, fired more in desperation than at any chance of hitting a mark. Nor, she thought, would they risk the catapults mounted on the hills. Her father wanted them captured, not dead. The Maridrinian vessels were crowded up behind the now fully raised chain, the captains shouting at those manning the towers.

“It will take them a bit of time to get the chain reversed. They might chase us all the way to Southwatch.” Aren’s eyes shifted to the black clouds hanging over the dark ocean, promising wild seas. “The race is on.”





31





Lara





The naval vessels gave up chase halfway to Southwatch, though whether it was for fear of the storm brewing in the east or the dozen shipbreakers on the fortified island, it was impossible to say.

Docking the ship at the Southwatch wharf was no mean feat, and Lara’s whole body ached with tension as Aren eased the battered ship against the stone, Ithicanian crews on land using rigging attached to the wharf to tie the rocking ship down. She, Aren, and the rest of the crew disembarked swiftly, meeting an older Ithicanian man at the guardhouse mounted where the wharf met the island.

“We did not realize you were in Vencia, Your Grace.” The man bowed with more formality than anyone at Midwatch ever used. His gaze skipped past his king to land on Lara, his eyes widening as he inclined his head to her.

“Unplanned trip. Where’s the commander?”

Aren’s voice was crisp and unwavering, but his left hand clenched and then opened in a repetitive motion that betrayed him. He was not looking forward to justifying himself to his sister, that much was certain.

“Off island, Your Grace. She left this morning to deal with a conflict on Carin Island, and I expect she’ll need to ride out this storm there.”

Aren’s hand relaxed. “Tell her I’m sorry to have missed her, but we cannot linger. Have the ship stripped, then sink it.”

“As you say, Your Grace.” Bowing once again, the man continued down the toward the ship, shouting orders as he went.

Lara cast a backward glance at the battered vessel. “Why sink it? Can’t you just . . . repaint it?”

“No time to return it to safe harbor before this storm hits. The sea will tear it apart and sink it anyway if we leave it here, which could cause problems with other ships trying to make port. Ahnna will cut my balls off if she has to deal with cleaning up that sort of mess.”

“I get the impression that she’ll be reaching for her knife anyway when she discovers where you’ve been.”

He laughed, his hand falling against her lower back to guide her up the path. “A little luck on our side that we missed her, then.”

“Will she let it go?”

“Not a chance, but hopefully she won’t feel inclined to follow us all the way to Midwatch to voice her opinion on the matter.”