Moving the glass to where the island met the sea, she searched for any sign of Ithicanians, keen to see their defenses in action. But the angle was bad, the jungle obscuring her vision of whatever was happening at the water’s edge.
This could be her one chance to see how the Ithicanians repelled invaders from the inside, and she was missing it because of a poor vantage point.
Lara found herself running. Down the stairs and into the clearing, her eyes trained on the path Aren had taken, trusting it would lead her to where she needed to go. The jungle was nothing but a blur of green as she ran, the humid air heavy in her lungs as she leapt over rocks, slid in the mud, caught her balance and kept going. The water wasn’t far, and it was downhill.
The path burst out into the open, cutting along the edge of a cliff. Far below, the ocean slammed against sheer rock. She veered around a bend, finding herself at the top of a steep slope. Lara paused, taking cover behind a rock.
She spotted a cove that she hadn’t been able to see from the watchtower. With a white sand beach and turquoise waters, it was hidden from the ocean by rocky cliffs, the opening to the sea beyond a gap barely wide enough for a small boat. The gap was currently blocked by a heavy chain connected to stone buildings on each side.
The beach was full of soldiers. Lara’s gaze went to the strange boats sitting on the sand, which showed no sign of going anywhere, before shifting her attention to the Ithicanians standing atop the cliffs overlooking the sea, Aren’s tall form among them.
Frowning, Lara peered around the boulder, trying to determine where the catapult the Ithicanians had used against the ship was located, when she heard loose gravel sliding down the path behind her. Then a voice: “. . . hardly worth the stones we lobbed at them. A brisk wind would put that decrepit piece of shit on the bottom of the sea.”
Her heart skipping, Lara searched for a way to escape, but the beach was crawling with soldiers, to her left was a tangle of jungle vines, and to her right was a sheer drop onto the jagged rocks jutting out of the ocean. The only way to keep from being caught spying was forward.
Stepping out from her cover, Lara picked her way down the steep slope and onto the beach, ignoring the startled expressions of the soldiers.
One man put his fingers to his lips and gave a sharp whistle, causing those standing on the cliffs—including Aren—to turn. He was not so distant that she couldn’t make out the surprise, and subsequent irritation, that crossed his face.
Before the soldiers could stop her, Lara circled the cove, climbing the steps carved into the rock that allowed access to the cliff overlooking the sea. Aren met her at the top, clearly not inclined to allow her to watch what was going on. “I told you to stay in the tower, Lara.”
“I know, I—” She pretended to lose her balance on the narrow step, hiding a smile as he caught hold of her arm, pulling her onto the clifftop and giving her an unencumbered view of the bridge and the ship sinking next to it. “What’s going on?”
“It’s no concern of yours. Go down to the beach and someone will take you back up to the house.” He motioned to one of his soldiers, and Lara’s mind raced, grasping for a reason to linger.
“There are drowning men out there!” She waved away the soldier trying to take her arm. “Why aren’t you helping them?”
“Those are raiders.” Aren shoved the spyglass he was holding into her hand. “See the flag? That’s an Amarid vessel. They were trying to find a way into the bridge under the cover of the fog.”
“They could be merchants.”
“They aren’t. Look at the bridge. See the lines hanging from it?”
Through the glass, Lara pretended to look at the men dangling from ropes when really she was examining the structure itself, searching for openings. This was a vantage point no one but the Ithicanians had, and it was possible she might learn something valuable. But Aren plucked the spyglass out of her hand before she could get more than a quick glance.
“This is an act of war against us, Lara. They deserve what they get.”
“No one deserves this,” she replied, and though her reaction was an act, her stomach still twisted as the waves pummeled the ship, swallowing the wreckage whole. All the Amaridians were in the water now, some trying to reach the dangling ropes, others swimming in the direction of the island on which she stood. “Help them.”
“No.”
“Then I will.” She whirled around, keen to use a dramatic display of empathy to get a closer look at the small craft on the beach, only to find herself face-to-face with three of Aren’s soldiers. “Let me pass.”
None of them moved, but neither did they reach for their weapons. Lara glanced over her shoulder, taking in the twin stone structures with solid doors and no windows, which guarded the mechanism for lifting the chain. She suspected they were always guarded. Yet her eyes were drawn from her assessment to the handful of sailors who, against all odds, were within reach of the gap leading to the cove. But several of them were floundering, the heavy waves washing over their heads.
“Please.” Lara shouldn’t care whether the Amaridians lived or died, but she found that she did, the shake in her voice genuine as she said, “This is cruelty.”
Aren’s face was dark with anger. “Cruelty is what those men would’ve done to my people if they’d managed to get past our defenses. Ithicana never asked for this. We never invade their lands. Never slaughter their children for sport.” He pointed his finger at the sailors, and bile rose in Lara’s throat as another was jerked beneath the waves, the water frothing red as the shark tore him apart. “They brought war to us.”
“If you let them die, are you any better?” There were only three sailors left, and they were close. Except fins trailed in their wake. “Show some mercy.”
“You want mercy?” Aren twisted on his heel, reaching into his quiver even as he turned. Three blurs of black fletching, and the remaining sailors sank beneath the waves. He rotated back to face her, knuckles white where they gripped his bow.
Lara dropped to her knees, closing her eyes and feigning distress even as she sought her own inner focus. Ithicana was showing its true colors. Not peaceful courtyards and soothing hot springs, but violence and cruelty. And Aren was its master.
But she would be his doom.
“Wait for the winds to die, then pick off those hanging from the rock,” Aren ordered his soldiers. “The last thing we need is one of them finding their way in at low tide.” Then boots thudded past her, and he went down the steps to the hidden beach.
Lara stayed where she was, smiling inwardly as the Ithicanians gave her and her moral outrage wide berth even as she considered Aren’s words: a way in at low tide. A way into where, was the question. Into the cove? Or had he been referring to a far greater prize?
The winds died, the sun retreated behind another bank of clouds, and the rains returned, soaking her to the bone. But she did not move. In stoic silence, she watched the soldiers push the boats out into the water, sail beneath the bridge, and methodically shoot the sailors who’d managed to cling to the ropes through the entire ordeal, their lifeless bodies falling to the ocean below.
She said nothing as they returned, only marked the meandering route they took, which was too purposeful to be without design, the necessity revealed as the tides reversed, the waters trailing away to reveal the deadly traps beneath the surface. Steel spikes and jagged rocks, all intended to destroy any approaching vessel unaware of the correct path.