Someone Else's Kingdom, BOOK I - Chapter 52

The battles in the western seas had been ferocious. The renewed vigour, along with the innovation in weaponry that the King of Tunid had instigated, had helped the mainland push back a tad, and even sink a few ships. Yet still, the Western Islanders held the field, as they had done from the outset. Their explosive black powder, along with their tenacious skills at sea, helping them to endlessly outmanoeuvre their mainland opponents.

Initially the use of fire and ballistas had surprised the Western Isle ships. It was this that led to the first few losses - losses that had a heavy impact. The Brynnyfirdians didn't have an endless supply of men as the mainland did, so they couldn't simply throw countless numbers to their deaths as cannon fodder. Nor was that their natural inclination anyway. Meaning the wounds struck deep on both levels. Spurring them to adapt, fox-like, out on the cold ocean. It was amidst this tactical carnage that Drua Maleeva was sailing to Brynnyfirdia. On a small ship, flying a white flag with a gold ring in its centre - the symbol of embassy. Her itinerary said to rendezvous at Ink Bay, on the south-western tip of the Harbour Lands, from where she hoped to be ushered around the western coast to Brynnyfirdia itself.

As her ship approached Ink Bay she stood still and silently out on deck, almost like the ship's figurehead - a dark mermaid, or baying dragon. Her eyes like opal sponges, soaking up each drop of the watery scene. Both the ship and the flag had been spotted by Western Island ships long before she had fallen in sight of land, making safe passage assured. She wondered if this would be the case though. She'd visited the Harbour Lands before, but this was the first time she'd ever seen the western half, and as the rocky inlet of Ink Bay came into view it impressed her little. A sparse, damp outcrop. The beach itself an almost soil-coloured brown. The settlements equally frugal and uninspiring. It was all a far cry from the coastal settlements on the mainland. The bitter cold weather and screech of seagulls only adding to this effect.

As her ship inched inward, a smaller vessel came out to intercept. In an impatient and business-like manner she shouted over to its captain. With zero intention of staying in the town, not even for a brief respite, she demanded, with firm words, to be escorted on. The captain entered into a brief conference with the other men aboard, then acquiesced. He pulled back into harbour, then sent out two ships to shepherd Maleeva's vessel along the lengthy stretch of coast leading north.