“It’s one thing to sail in or out, ma’am,” said her guard captain. “It’s another to enter that town in a little boat.”
“Have faith, Gelos. I am the Blood Queen, after all.” Much as she might wish not to be.
“Yes, ma’am.” He had seen it for himself in the Yoler gulf, and in the Welkin campaign before it. “Nonetheless, I advise against this.”
“Noted. Lower the boat.”
The boat was crowded, with her, all five guards, and four sailors to row it. A row of archers formed up on the shore, but no arrows came to meet them. Doubtless her escort ships had sent word by signal flag or other means. Yola was, at the very least, withholding judgment.
They landed without incident on the sandy shore between two quays, a concession to Gelos’ demands for caution. “They could pick us off as we climbed up t
