with wishful thinking.
CHAPTER 11
The Isle of Slarn was a miserable, bitter place; shrouded in mist and surrounded by a treacherous reef that made even the most seasoned sailor nervous. Adrina watched the island growing larger through the mist, shivering in the chilly spray that splashed over the bow in the grey, overcast morning.
“It’s a great honour,” Cratyn told her solemnly, “to be allowed to visit Slarn.”
“You think so?” she asked, gripping the rail tightly. “I’ll try to remember that as I’m being dashed against the reef, just before I drown.”
Cratyn looked at her unsmilingly. He had solemn eyes in a not-unpleasant face, but he had no sense of humour that Adrina had been able to detect thus far.
“The Overlord will protect us and see us safe into the harbour.”
“That makes me feel so much better.”
“I am pleased to see that you are beginning to appreciate the power of the Overlord,” he noted, as if her comment had been a profession of faith rather than a snide dig at his boring old god. “When wereach Slarn, the priests will appoint a Confessor to aid your conversion to the true faith.”
“You’re assuming I plan to convert, then?” she asked, bracing herself against the violent lurching of the hideously painted ship. The captain was screaming orders to his crew, fighting to be heard over the crashing waves and the creaking boat.
Cratyn looked astonished. “As the wife of the Crown Prince, you must set an example of faith and virtue for all the women of Karien.”
“ Me ? An example of virtue? I fear I am not worthy of that honour, your Highness.”
Completely oblivious to her meaning, Cratyn nodded. “Your humility does you credit, Princess. I am sure the Overlord will look most kindly on your character.”
Just so long as he doesn’t look too closely , she told herself. Still, the trip from Fardohnya so far had been bearable. She had only had to socialise with her Karien fiancé and his priests during meals. The rest of the journey she had been left to her own devices in her small but sumptuous cabin, which was quite appallingly decorated by someone who had either been very devout or blind drunk when he chose the colours. Every flat surface was emblazoned with the five-pointed star and lightning bolt of Xaphista.
Tristan and the rest of his regiment were not invited to Slarn. Their small fleet of Fardohnyan ships was sailing straight onto Karien.
“Your ladies-in-waiting will also join us when we reach Slarn,” Cratyn added carefully. “I will then make arrangements to return your slaves to Fardohnya.”
Adrina turned to face Cratyn determinedly. “My slaves aren’t going anywhere, your Highness. They will stay with me.”
Cratyn took a deep breath before he replied, as if he had known what her reaction to such a suggestion would be. It explained his sudden desire for her company this morning. She wondered how long it had taken to work himself up to delivering the news.
“The Overlord says that man can have only one master, and that is God. We do not condone or tolerate slavery in Karien, your Highness. Your slaves must be sent home.”
“I don’t give a damn what the Overlord says. My slaves are staying with me.” She tossed her head imperiously . Pretentious little upstart! “Did my father know you were planning to deprive me of my slaves the moment we left Fardohnya?”
“He suggested that it would be wise not to broach the subject until we reached Slarn.” Cratyn agreed. “But he assured us you would understand the necessity—”
“Well, he was wrong!” she declared. “I do not understand.”
“I realise you are quite attached to them, your Highness, but as the Crown Princess of Karien, you cannot be seen to be supporting such a barbarous custom.”
“Barbarous!” she cried. “My slaves live in more luxury than most of your damned knights. They are cared for, looked after, and secure. How dare you call my treatment of them
CHAPTER 11
The Isle of Slarn was a miserable, bitter place; shrouded in mist and surrounded by a treacherous reef that made even the most seasoned sailor nervous. Adrina watched the island growing larger through the mist, shivering in the chilly spray that splashed over the bow in the grey, overcast morning.
“It’s a great honour,” Cratyn told her solemnly, “to be allowed to visit Slarn.”
“You think so?” she asked, gripping the rail tightly. “I’ll try to remember that as I’m being dashed against the reef, just before I drown.”
Cratyn looked at her unsmilingly. He had solemn eyes in a not-unpleasant face, but he had no sense of humour that Adrina had been able to detect thus far.
“The Overlord will protect us and see us safe into the harbour.”
“That makes me feel so much better.”
“I am pleased to see that you are beginning to appreciate the power of the Overlord,” he noted, as if her comment had been a profession of faith rather than a snide dig at his boring old god. “When wereach Slarn, the priests will appoint a Confessor to aid your conversion to the true faith.”
“You’re assuming I plan to convert, then?” she asked, bracing herself against the violent lurching of the hideously painted ship. The captain was screaming orders to his crew, fighting to be heard over the crashing waves and the creaking boat.
Cratyn looked astonished. “As the wife of the Crown Prince, you must set an example of faith and virtue for all the women of Karien.”
“ Me ? An example of virtue? I fear I am not worthy of that honour, your Highness.”
Completely oblivious to her meaning, Cratyn nodded. “Your humility does you credit, Princess. I am sure the Overlord will look most kindly on your character.”
Just so long as he doesn’t look too closely , she told herself. Still, the trip from Fardohnya so far had been bearable. She had only had to socialise with her Karien fiancé and his priests during meals. The rest of the journey she had been left to her own devices in her small but sumptuous cabin, which was quite appallingly decorated by someone who had either been very devout or blind drunk when he chose the colours. Every flat surface was emblazoned with the five-pointed star and lightning bolt of Xaphista.
Tristan and the rest of his regiment were not invited to Slarn. Their small fleet of Fardohnyan ships was sailing straight onto Karien.
“Your ladies-in-waiting will also join us when we reach Slarn,” Cratyn added carefully. “I will then make arrangements to return your slaves to Fardohnya.”
Adrina turned to face Cratyn determinedly. “My slaves aren’t going anywhere, your Highness. They will stay with me.”
Cratyn took a deep breath before he replied, as if he had known what her reaction to such a suggestion would be. It explained his sudden desire for her company this morning. She wondered how long it had taken to work himself up to delivering the news.
“The Overlord says that man can have only one master, and that is God. We do not condone or tolerate slavery in Karien, your Highness. Your slaves must be sent home.”
“I don’t give a damn what the Overlord says. My slaves are staying with me.” She tossed her head imperiously . Pretentious little upstart! “Did my father know you were planning to deprive me of my slaves the moment we left Fardohnya?”
“He suggested that it would be wise not to broach the subject until we reached Slarn.” Cratyn agreed. “But he assured us you would understand the necessity—”
“Well, he was wrong!” she declared. “I do not understand.”
“I realise you are quite attached to them, your Highness, but as the Crown Princess of Karien, you cannot be seen to be supporting such a barbarous custom.”
“Barbarous!” she cried. “My slaves live in more luxury than most of your damned knights. They are cared for, looked after, and secure. How dare you call my treatment of them
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