Thea

Chapter 1The captain had ordered two raiding ships carrying sixty men be sent to scout an island north of the capital. The island had been dominated by the Vivarrians for years. Driada’s crew had ships that were long and narrow and were pushed forward by thirty oarsmen. These ships were ideal for raiding, as they could move swiftly, and were lightweight. The men took turns relieving each other from the labor. Driada was aboard one ship with her Highlander friend Erjon by her side. The captain was not on board their ship, but she could see him on the other one ahead of them. He was tall, with an angular face and dark eyes. His head was shaved, and his beard was well groomed. He was well known in their kingdom as being a stern captain, but one who successfully raided many ships. Though often I wonder if that renown should be given to him or to the crew, Driada thought. Yes, he gives the orders. But we are the ones who do the fighting. Oarsmen unfurled their single sail and the wind pushed them forward toward the sea. Archers were stringing their weapons, and men were readying their spears. A few whispered prayers to the gods. We haven’t even spotted an enemy vessel yet, and already they’re speaking to their gods. Driada fought the urge to roll her eyes. As foolish as they might seem, she knew how important these rituals were to them. Raiding is about more than being physically prepared—it’s about being mentally prepared, too. “I suppose your sword is already sharp enough, Erjon?” Driada asked. He patted the scabbard hanging from his hip. “I’m as ready as ever.” “I hope we come upon a merchant vessel on the way,” Driada said. She secured a brimmed hat onto her head. “It would be nice to bring back some extra wine to camp. Especially with the Highlanders guzzling it all.” “Perhaps we should begin drinking something weaker, so they don’t try to steal it from us,” Erjon suggested with a crooked smile. “Wouldn’t that be nice.” Erjon picked up an oar. “I had better get to work.” She looked at the rowing men. She was relieved from manning the oars that day. “It’s too bad I’m not strong enough to help with that,” she said sarcastically. “I think you’d need to gain a bit more muscle first.” She swatted at him and missed. Driada huffed and moved to the bow of the ship. She looked to the sky. It was cloudy, and the wind blew strong. The sound of the grunting oarsmen filled the air. They sailed past islands that they had all become familiar with throughout their years at sea. She knew who ruled over each island, and who they answered to. And hopefully, they will all pay tribute to the king when the time comes. She noticed movement in the corner of her eye and turned to look at what it was. One of the men was pointing at something in the distance. She followed his line of sight and saw it. Sails. Another crewmate beat her to the triumphant call. “Sails!” The men jeered. Driada felt her spirits lift as well. She narrowed her eyes, eager to see who their opponent would be today. The ship moving toward them was a merchant ship, and by the looks of it, it was a Vivarrian vessel. It had two sails, and oars on both sides. It was long, and deep, which gave them the advantage of speed. With two ships attacking it, the fight would be won swiftly. “I wonder if they spotted us yet.” Alarmed screams emanated over from the merchant ship. “By the sounds of it, they have.” He slammed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. “Ready?” She grinned. “Always.” I may not be as strong as the other crewmembers, but I’m fast. And no one ever expects a girl to come at them with a weapon. Both of their ships approached the merchant vessel. The Iosians lifted spears and launched them, piercing the ship’s side. Archers let their arrows fly. Driada watched them burrow into the chests of merchant men too foolhardy to hide from the onslaught. Once their sister ship was close enough, they threw out a plank and began to board. They rushed onto the deck, cutting past those who stood in their way. As soon as they were close enough, her crew followed suit. Driada was pressed against a crowd of bodies practically vibrating in anticipation. With a signaled cry, they rushed forward and joined the rest of their crew. Once on board, one of the guards on the merchant ship swept at her with a curved dagger. It nicked her arm and she cried out, swinging her sword toward her enemy’s chest. It left a wide gash, and he fell to the deck, his head smashing against the planks. Before she turned to face her next opponent, she looked into the man’s eyes. He was young, around her age, with glistening black curls. He gaped at her, as if he couldn’t possibly imagine why they were here—why an armed woman was here, and why she had killed him. Driada hardened her heart and pushed all feelings of remorse away. Another guard came running at her, from the side, but she moved quickly enough to skirt pas his assault and knock him on the back of the head. He stumbled, recovered rapidly, and lunged at her feet. He cut her near her ankles, and she sprang forward, kicking him in the head. He rolled over, unconscious. It was over quickly. Driada heaved an exhausted breath and wiped the sweat from her face. The merchant ship’s crew had either been subdued or killed entirely. Captain Neleos strode across the deck, surveying what they had accomplished. From the looks of it, the captain was trying to suppress a smug grin. He acts as if it was he who accomplished all this. He forgets that we are the ones who fight for him. Without us he is nothing. “All right, everyone, you know what to do! Collect the spoils and start loading the ship!” Captain Neleos exclaimed. Driada shot off with the rest of her crew and helped haul crates onto their thin ships. It wasn’t long before sweat dripped from her forehead onto her face. She had to be careful not to slip on pools of blood, or trip over a dead or wounded merchant’s body. She glanced at the boy she had rendered unconscious. When I first began raiding, I felt guilty for attacking them. I barely even flinch anymore. She looked away and picked up the next crate. The strain of such close contact fighting was hard on her limbs, however, and she was only able to help lift a few crates of gold and copper. Not exactly as fun as wine, but this will do. After about twenty minutes, the cargo had been successfully carried about their ship. They left the vessel, and the remaining survivors, behind. * * * * Thea of Ios sat by her husband’s deathbed. Blood red drapes hung from the windows of the royal bedchamber. Their oaken bedpost was decorated with carvings of nymphs floating through the water and playing on the shore, near the trees. But even the nymphs would not be able to save him now. King Arkon, who had been so mighty and powerful only days before, now lay pale and ghostly. Water had filled his lungs, killing him. He was with Hidir, the god of death. Despite his recent victory in battle, the gods had not rewarded him. Yet again, they had abandoned Thea when she needed them most. The bedroom was filled with the smell of incense and sweat. The opened window helped little to clear the air. Two priests lingered near the doorway, waiting to attend to the king’s body. Thea wished Arkon would open his eyes, that he would not leave her with the responsibility of tending to the kingdom on her own. But he did not wake. He would never rise again. The realization rocked her like a powerful wave at sea. The next few days would be reserved for mourning, but after that, she would need to assume the mantle of queen, publicly. That would mean she would have to lead her people, the Iosians, and their serfs. She could not show any weakness, even after the loss of her husband. She sat motionlessly on her oaken chair, her hands folded in her lap, and waited for a god to appear so she might bargain for her husband’s life, as the heroes from stories had done. But the gods never appeared. She was alone, with the body of a husband she had never truly loved. She had been his second wife. His first had betrayed him to their enemies. Her name was Helle, and it had been struck from every record in the kingdom. Arkon had hated her deeply for her betrayal. Thea had worked hard to prove to him that she could be trusted. That she was not like his first wife. She had been friends with the king, certainly, but they had never been in love. Thea had known from the start that she could not possibly love the king the way a wife should. But he had remained by her side through their short years of marriage, without any trace of unfaithfulness. He had been a confidante, a shoulder to cry on, someone with whom she could share all of her worries. But now he was gone. She would need to find the courage to lead her people without him. Ios was an unruly land, with two feuding tribes. They were known as the Tolensi and the Ardians. To outsiders, they appeared to have similar customs and religions, but to those who belonged to the groups, they believed they could not be more different. Thea belonged to the ruling clan, the Iosian clan. Their customs were dominant in Ios, but the influence of the other tribes was undeniable. They were a constantly shifting culture, with intermeshing dynamics. Thea was still growing accustomed to their foreign customs and religions. She had no idea how she would continue to maintain peace between them, as her late husband had. Thankfully, though, she had paid close attention to his diplomatic meetings. She had always been listening, even when she wasn’t by his side. The servants knew better than to tell the king that the queen had been listening at the door. And when they were in private together, the king would tell her all about the warring tribes and their demands. Despite having never sat on the throne, Thea felt she possessed enough knowledge of her people to lead them. But despite this confidence, she couldn’t discount the nibbling feeling of doubt and fear in her stomach. There was so much she didn’t know. So much she still had to learn. It was clear from their recent battle that their navy was doing quite well, despite being comprised entirely of pirates. But Thea knew it would not be long before the forces of Vivarre returned to their city. The Vivarrian Empire was known across the world for their wealth and power. They were challenged by few, and those who dared to cross them were usually sentenced to death. Their empire spanned across the entire sea, and Ios was one of the few nations they had failed to capture. Not for lack of trying, however. Vivarre had been sending ships to Iosian waters for nearly three years, and their pirates had always given them a good thrashing. But it was only a matter of time before Vivarre sent in more ships, larger than theirs, that would overpower them in an instant. Until then, however, Thea was determined to put up a fight. Vivarre was known to take complete control of a country once it had established dominance. The language, culture, and religion of whichever country they had colonized would be completely erased from history, replaced instead by the “proper” Vivarrian ways. Both king and queen alike had sworn that they would never let Vivarre take Ios in its clutches. Their sailors had done an excellent job of resisting them, mainly by raiding their ships when they dared approach their waters. She would need to be prepared for an attack. Thea sighed. There was too much to think about, and so much grief. But even a queen did not have the luxury of grieving for long. Decisions needed to be made, and there was no one else to make them but her. She took Arkon’s hand in her own. “I’ll miss you, dear friend,” she whispered. “Please guide me. May the gods meet you favorably in the afterlife.”