“He started it,” Jason complained.

“We know,” Nia assured him. “The owners are rightfully chagrined. Their regular customers keep creating problems for those involved with their secret enterprises. A few of the smugglers suspect something is going on around here and are curious. They prod and pry when they can.”

“Sounds like this won’t be a safe haven much longer,” Jasher said.

Nia shrugged. “They should probably stop housing rebels here for a season. Any real suspicion from the authorities could prove disastrous. Farfalee and Corinne will meet us on the water?”

“Along with Bat and Ux,” Jasher said. “I saw no warship in port.”

“The Valiant is scheduled to arrive in three days.”

“We’ll take it the first night?” Jasher verified.

“That’s the plan.”

“We want a specific ship?” Jason asked.

Nia nodded. “An interceptor. Maldor constructed a fleet of eighty to win the western coast and conquer Meridon. He only built three to cover the Inland Sea. And three were all he has needed. Big warships have never sailed these waters. The smaller vessels are no match for an interceptor.”

“Where are the other two interceptors?” Jasher inquired.

“They reliably sail between Angial, Russock, and Durna. They mostly patrol the coasts, stopping unpredictably at the smaller towns. Occasionally they check the islands. Except for Windbreak, of course. No sane person would set foot there.”

“Do you know how to sail a ship?” Jason asked.

Nia waved a casual hand. “I try not to fret about the minor details.”

“You’re kidding,” Jason checked.

“A few of us have some nautical experience,” Nia said. “Mostly we’ll rely on Aram’s instruction.”

“We have the required manpower?” Jasher asked.

“Yes,” Nia replied. “We can spare eight fighters to help us get out of the harbor and still retain enough drinlings to crew the ship, along with eighteen fighters down below to pull the six emergency sweeps.”

“Resources?” Jasher pursued.

“We’re all armed, with supplies to spare. Three clans contributed warriors and funds. This will be the biggest drinling offensive in many lifetimes.”

“Have things been quiet here in town?” Jason wondered.

“No revolt in years. After the city fell to Maldor, the serious dissenters were weeded out. The smugglers and traders support a healthy black market, much of which is unofficially permitted. The guardsmen have grown overconfident, the leadership complacent.”

Jasher clapped his hands together. “Good tidings at last. The next few days should be uncomplicated.”

“We’ll need to stay out of sight,” Nia said. “Surprise is crucial. If our foes catch wind of our plot, it won’t work. They have ready means to block the harbor mouth, and troops to spare.”

Jason frowned. “I hope no smugglers draw attention to us.”

“We’ll keep our ears open,” Nia said.

“I’ll help,” Jason assured her. “Your hearing may have started to go.” He had started teasing Nia about her age after she had begun to flaunt looking older than him back at Mianamon.

Nia leaped from her chair and slugged Jason on the shoulder, a response she had learned from Rachel. Except Nia hit a lot harder. If they worked at it, drinlings could pack on pounds of muscle overnight. Apparently, she had kept up with her exercising. “You using a razor yet?”

Jason grinned. This felt more familiar. The Nia he remembered had been brash and playful. “I’m glad you can still tease. I was worried you’d gotten all serious in your old age.”

“Nope. Just smarter, stronger, and more mature. You wouldn’t understand.”

Jason looked around the windowless room. “I’m glad we’ll get to rest for a few days. I’m sick of sleeping on the ground.”

“We’ll have time to strategize,” Jasher said with relief.

“We’ll watch and listen,” Nia added.

“And sleep?” Jason asked hopefully, stretching his arms.

Nia gave a nod. “Those of us who need it.”

CHAPTER 7

CORONATION

Not only did everyone in Trensicourt turn out for the procession, but many from the surrounding countryside had flooded into the city as well. Peasants and nobles, grandparents and youngsters, tradesmen and merchants and farmers alike lined the streets, rooftops, and balconies of the parade route. Bells sang throughout the great city. Vendors hawked baked treats, sweet nuts, and handkerchiefs emblazoned with the royal crest of Trensicourt. Spectators hollered and cheered, waving arms and handkerchiefs and banners. Many laughed. Many wept.

Arrayed in splendid ceremonial armor, the rightful king of Trensicourt rode at the front of the procession on an enormous white charger, gleaming like a knight from a fairy tale. Flanked by a mounted honor guard, eyes uncovered, Galloran took his time, waving and pausing to greet individuals packed along the edges of the road. Flowers and garlands snowed down from the crowded rooftops and terraces.

Behind Galloran came a cavalcade of five hundred horsemen, riding in formation. Thousands of foot soldiers followed, bearing pikes, axes, or swords. After them marched troupes of musicians, filling the air with music, followed by an athletic host of drummers and dancers, leaping and tumbling through the streets. Jesters capered about, pulling pranks and feigning clumsy accidents with one another. Jugglers followed, and acrobats, and men who performed startling feats with fire. At last rolled a gilded coach, from which Dolan hurled handfuls of bronze drooma into the jubilant crowd. A large honor guard protected the burnished vehicle.

Leaning against the stone railing of a palace balcony, Rachel surveyed the scene. From the lofty vantage, the crowd noise shrank to a distant roar, and the members of the parade were reduced to tiny figures gradually advancing in tidy patterns. She wished she could be closer to the excitement.

Ferrin peered through a long telescope. He passed it to Rachel, allowing her to zoom in and observe details. She found Galloran leaning down from his horse to shake the hand of an elated boy in the crowd.

“Quite a turnout on short notice,” Ferrin approved.

“I had less than a week to make the arrangements,” Copernum sniffed. “But the prospect of Galloran returning provided all the motivation necessary to prod extra effort out of everyone involved and to draw a prodigious crowd. I have never beheld the populace more swollen with emotion.”