Blood Song

Last to arrive were the Ship Lords, eight men of middle or advanced years dressed in what I assumed passed for finery in the isles. These were the wealthiest men in the Islands, elevated to the governing council by virtue of the number of ships they owned, a singular form of government that had survived surprisingly well for over four centuries. They took their places on the raised long marble dais at the far end of the arena, eight large oak-wood chairs having already been placed there for their comfort.

One of the Ship Lords remained standing, a wiry man, dressed more simply than his fellows, but with soft leather gloves on both hands. I sensed Al Sorna shift next to me. “Carval Nurin,” he said.

“The captain of the Red Falcon,” I recalled.

He nodded. “Bluestone buys a lot of ships it seems.”

Nurin waited for the hum of the crowd to die down, his expressionless gaze lingering on Al Sorna for a moment before he raised his voice to speak, “We come to witness resolution of challenge to single combat. The Shiplords Council formally recognises this challenge to be fair and lawful. There will be no punishment for any blood spilled this day. Who speaks for the challenger?”

One of the Shield’s crew stepped forward, a large, bearded man with a blue scarf on his head denoting his rank as first mate. “I do, my lords.”

Nurin’s gaze turned to me. “And for the challenged?”

I rose and walked to the centre of the arena. “I do.”

Nurin’s expression faltered a little at the lack of an honorific in my response but he continued smoothly. “By law we are required to enquire of both parties if this matter can be resolved without bloodshed.”

The first mate spoke first, voice raised, addressing the crowd rather than the Shiplords. “My Captain’s dishonour is too great. Although a peaceful man by nature the souls of his murdered kin cry out for justice!”

There was a growl of agreement from the audience, threatening to build into a cacophony of rage until a glare from Carval Nurin caused it to subside. He looked down at me. “And does the challenged wish to resolve this matter peacefully?”

I glanced back at Al Sorna and found him looking up at the sky. Following his gaze I saw a bird circling above, a sea eagle judging from the wingspan. It turned and wheeled in the cloudless sky, born by the warm air rising from the cliff, above all this, above our sordid public murder. For I now knew this was murder, there was no justice here.

“My lord!” Carval Nurin prompted, his voice hard with annoyance.