The Sword in the Sea - Chapter Four

Ravian would always remember his first two years as a longshipman as a time of both intense learning and uncomplicated happiness.

Under the close tutelage of Acrusta, he rapidly absorbed the skills required of a Tarcun naval officer and, as Storm Bringer patrolled the Sapphire Sea and visited the kingdoms along its shores, he began to acquire a better understanding of the world and Tarcus's place in it.

He learned every mile of coast and every harbour of the Eastern Shore, the royal palace at Ezreen becoming a second home to him. Storm Bringer also took him to Belutius, Karaal's port on the Sapphire Sea, where Ravian briefly met King Baharat, that country's ageing potentate. From there, they had sailed north to Dalvan – a land where safe harbours and good manners were both in short supply, as Old Crusty observed. They had voyaged through the Gertal Islands to Groven, the first of the true northern countries Ravian was to visit, stopping in at the small, cliff-ringed harbour that serviced Bendim, the capital of that country. Acrusta then took Storm Bringer into the Grimspot Gris as far as the harbour of Canavast, the large trading port that was the capital of the kingdom of Kleeft. From there, the Tarcuns had been able to see the distant, snow-covered mountains of Graftsen, far to the north.

Turning away from the dark, brooding shores of the inland sea, the admiral had then set a course southwest for the Delenes Islands, a gentler, warmer land of small villages and fertile vineyards. The islands' ruler, King Zecretes, a good friend and significant trading partner of Tarcus, had welcomed them so warmly and entertained them so lavishly at his capital of Zedezee that they had found it difficult to leave.

By the time Ravian had gained his promotion to second lieutenant – freeing himself, at last, of the detested "Young Sir" appellation – he had coasted the Southern Shore from Ezreen to Sanja, piloted Storm Bringer into the shoal-ridden harbour of Beldona, and even ridden a camel train several days' south into the vast, dry continent beyond. He had seen the forbidding headlands of the Western Portal, fought another action against pirates off the coast of Saravene and weathered a violent storm off the coast of Survene.

Every day at sea bought some new experience and, while Ravian was not a particularly religious man, every now and then, an especially beautiful dawn or sunset would have him repeat his thanks to Delikas for the privilege of being there to see it.

Meanwhile, at the Tarcun palace, Jeniel seemed to have reconciled himself to his role as heir to the throne.

The crown prince had become betrothed to Kasanda, daughter of the House of Hedreel – a match with which the king and queen were well pleased. From his first meeting with the future queen of Tarcus, Ravian had also liked her very much, finding that she exuded a quiet strength and confidence that he knew would stand his brother in good stead. Kasanda also had a well-developed sense of humour which, in Ravian's case, usually displayed itself in the form of gentle teasing about his continuing bachelor status.

'Ravian, I swear that the good families of Tarcus are going to run out of comely daughters for you to sample,' she would chide him. 'You are getting quite a reputation as a heart-breaker, Young Man.'

It wasn't true, of course.

Ravian had briefly courted a few of the island's eligible maidens, but invariably found them far less exciting than some of the companions he that had enjoyed on the Eastern Shore. However, he was well aware that, as second in line to the throne, he was a prize catch in the eyes of the aspirational matrons of the land, and potential wives were thrust at him at every social and state occasion. So relentless was some of the matchmaking that the sea was often his only escape and, indeed, on one particularly pressing occasion, he had been driven to request of a bemused Acrusta that the admiral order Storm Bringer away on a sudden and unscheduled training voyage.

His younger brother, Ramus, had beaten both his siblings down the matrimonial path by marrying his wife, Verene, at a very young age and the couple were already expecting their first child. Verene and Jeniel's wife, Kasanda, had very similar personalities, the two young women quickly becoming firm friends – and conspirators in their harassment of their bachelor brother-in-law. Much loved by the king and queen, Verene quickly became a part of the family at the palace – which was just as well, Ravian thought, as Ramus was frequently absent for long periods on his trading missions.

His younger brother had taken to his role as Minister of Trade with an enthusiasm and energy that had surprised everybody. Indeed, Ravian saw him more often in foreign harbours than he did at the White City and he sometimes wondered where Ramus had found the time to make his young wife pregnant.

Towards the end of Ravian's second year as a longshipman, Acrusta asked to meet him on Storm Bringer's quarterdeck. The longship lay alongside its wharf at the naval base and, while he waited for the admiral, Ravian watched some boys skylarking out on the harbour in three small sailing dinghies.

The boats were manoeuvring about each other in the steady afternoon breeze, each young skipper trying to position his craft so that he could ram one of the others. Peals of laughter came to him across the ruffled waters as the dinghies crazily tacked and jibed.

Ravian smiled. Now there were some longship captains in the making, he thought to himself.

As he watched, one of the boats was too slow getting through a tack and one of its opponents pounced. Catching its victim on the leeward side, the attacking dinghy rode up onto the rail of its target, instantly swamping and capsizing it. As the game ended in hoots of hilarity and the boys turned to bailing the boat out, Ravian recalled Storm Bringer's splintered bow of after their mission against the Dekanian pirates in the Gertals.

If there was enough wind, he thought to himself, why couldn't a longship be made strong enough to use ramming as a tactic?

Acrusta arrived on the quarterdeck and Ravian immediately put the question to him.

The admiral wasn't enthusiastic about the notion.

'Well, Ravian,' he said, 'you've seen first-hand what can happen with ramming. At least a galley can usually use her oars to back out after she's rammed another vessel. If you built a longship with a ram, once you'd hit a vessel, you'd lose all your wind and you'd be stuck there to battle it out. You're much better off to come alongside with grappling lines. That way, you've still got a battle on your hands but, if you see it going against you, you can always cut and run.'

'But what if you didn��t fit a ram, but strengthened the stem so that you could ram another ship and then sail off again?' Ravian asked.

Acrusta seemed to give the notion serious thought.

'To make the bow strong enough for that, you'd have put so much reinforcing into it that you'd throw the balance of the whole vessel out,' he eventually said. 'Anyway, forget such far-fetched notions for the time being, Ravian – you are not going to have time for them.'

The prince raised a quizzical eyebrow.

'You have done well, these past two years,' Acrusta continued, 'and it is my pleasure to inform you that, as of dawn tomorrow, you are to take command of Wind Song.'

Ravian' jaw dropped. He was still only a second lieutenant and, at barely twenty years of age, he would be at least five years younger than any other longship captain.

'I…I'm honoured, Sir, but I cannot accept. Promotion should come from experience and ability, not from any family lineage.'

The old admiral smiled.

'Noble sentiments from noble blood,' he chuckled. 'Really, Ravian, you should learn to give yourself credit for your own abilities. You're young – and I certainly envy you that – but you're no younger than Capernal, and I've just given him command of Thunder Storm.'

Ravian was speechless for a moment.

'Then I certainly accept with gratitude, sir,' he finally got out, 'but, surely, we are both very young and junior in rank for such honours?'

'There are precedents, Ravian,' Acrusta said. 'Experience is important, yes, but ability is even more so. Obviously, you and Capernal are very young and both of you are only second lieutenants – but the two of you are by far the most able men available for promotion to captain. Billus isn't too far behind the pair of you either – he just needs a few rough edges taken off.'

'I must say,' continued the admiral, 'that it has been a pleasure having the three of you with me these last two years. For yourself, Your Highness,' – it was unusual for Acrusta to address him by this title – 'I would like to farewell you from my immediate command with the most valuable gift that I can offer you. I am appointing Combus as Wind Song's bosun.'

Ravian considered this. Combus, as the most able bosun in the fleet, was a valuable gift indeed.

'But surely, Sir, you need to keep him by you?'

'Combus is a good man,' Old Crusty said, 'and the best bosun that I've ever sailed with. Nevertheless, I will be retiring when you are ready for the admiral's flag to pass to you – and that won't be long. Combus deserves to continue to be the Admiral's Bosun, so it's a well-earned reward to you both.'

Thus, the following morning, the familiar, weathered face of Combus was the first to greet Ravian as he boarded his first command.

Wind Song was brand new – the most recent product of the shipyards on the southern side of the harbour – and, at first, Ravian was thrilled by the newness of the vessel and the opportunity to take command of a fresh crew. It soon became obvious however, that both ship and crew needed considerable work if they were to become anything like the smooth machine that Storm Bringer was.

Wind Song sailed differently to the admiral's flagship. She was more nervous at the helm, requiring more attention from her watch officer and helmsman, and yet, from the very first, Ravian also saw that the new longship was capable of pointing higher to windward than the older vessel. The rigging needed considerable tuning though, and the crew even more so – over two-thirds of them being straight out of the Academy and dangerously inexperienced.

Ravian had learned many valuable lessons under Acrusta, and one of these was that discipline, once established, could always be relaxed – but to start things too easily was to invite trouble. Thus, he was completely ruthless with the training of his crew – relentlessly exercising Wind Song to harden the men and to learn the ways the longship sailed best. His first lieutenant, Godart – a young man his own age from North Cove – was a capable, loyal, second in command, but it was largely due to the efforts of Combus that things slowly began to improve.

The bosun had proved the valuable asset Ravian had expected, the raw crew quickly coming to regard the weathered senior ranker with a mixture of respect and terror. Combus seemed everywhere; hurrying the crew along with a short length of rope that he kept for the especially tardy, on hands and knees in the scuppers tracing leaks, even in the taverns of the town – extricating drunken crewmembers from trouble. At sea, when he was not drilling the men with rowing practice, boarding exercises and sail changes, Combus worked tirelessly with his captain and first lieutenant to fine-tune the rigging. Yet, even as Wind Song slowly began to evolve into a half-decent longship, the bosun showed little satisfaction. Nor would either of them, Ravian knew, until everything about the vessel was perfect.

Admiral Acrusta, mindful that his new captains still had a lot to learn, regularly ordered Wind Song and Thunder Storm to sea in company with his own vessel, the ships sailing in close formation, tacking and jibing in unison as ordered by flag signals from Storm Bringer. In the beginning, Ravian was frustrated that Capernal's vessel, five years old and with an experienced crew, always seemed to turn that much more quickly and cleanly than his own. After three months though, as Wind Song and her crew began to meld into a single unit, the differences between the three longships became less marked. Ravian was proud of his progress with what had been a bunch of raw recruits and he was also pleased to find that, whether sailing on or off the wind, Wind Song seemed to be a comfortably faster vessel than either Storm Bringer or Thunder Storm.

For a time, the Tarcun prince's whole life centred on his command. Then, one warm, late-summer afternoon, Sinur entered his world.

Wind Song lay alongside at the Naval Base, most of her crew released to a well-earned furlough after weeks of exercises. Ravian had dallied on board, loathe to exchange the autonomy of his command for the more restrictive environment of the palace. He was on his quarterdeck, enjoying the breeze and the change in the light about the harbour and city as sunset approached. The tide was at dead low and he had been gazing out over the seaward rail, so he was taken by surprise by the female voice that came from above and behind him.

'So, this is where the elusive Prince Ravian hides out!'

He spun around, less gracefully than he would have liked, and stared at the apparition above him on the quayside.

The low sun was behind her, highlighting her blond tresses and, Ravian could not help but notice, silhouetting her body enticingly through the light fabric of her summer tunic. He immediately noted the jewelled shoulder broaches that marked her as a daughter of one of the Nine Houses and wondered what a highborn woman of about his own age was doing wandering unescorted in the waterfront area.

'You have the advantage of me, Madam,' he said, rather more stiffly than he intended. 'I don't believe that I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance.'

Her smile was warm, faintly mocking.

'Why, Prince Ravian, if your reputation is to be believed, I must be just about the only daughter of the Nine Houses you haven't had the pleasure of. I am Sinur of the House of Kallan.'

Ravian felt himself blush at the reference to his unjustified reputation.

'Well, Sinur, how may I be of assistance?'

Her eyes flashed boldly and Ravian saw that they were as blue as the sky.

'Well, Your Highness,' she said with affected innocence, 'I suddenly realised how little we women of Tarcus know about our naval vessels and I thought that I might come and have a closer look at one.'

'And now that you have seen one, what do you think?' Ravian asked.

'I think that it is difficult to appreciate one from the quayside,' Sinur replied. 'Aren't you going to invite me aboard?'

Ravian hesitated. The deck of a naval vessel was no place for a lady, especially one so young, attractive and without a chaperone. Indeed, the only women who found their way on board longships usually did so with a strictly professional objective in mind. Nevertheless, entranced, he moved to the quayside rail and extended his hand to help her down.

Sinur's touch was cool, her smile broad and self-assured, as she stepped from the quay down to the rail and then leapt lightly to the quarterdeck. She did so with a flounce of hem and flash of leg that Ravian should have averted his eyes from but did not. Sinur allowed her hand to linger in his for some moments longer than was necessary – the spell this cast over the prince only broken by a snigger from amidships. Dropping her hand as though it had burned him, Ravian wheeled and glared forward at the crew of the duty watch – all of whom suddenly seemed to be commendably busy scrubbing the thwarts.

'It's all right, Your Highness,' Sinur said. 'I understand that men who spend a long time at sea sometimes act strangely when they re-enter the world of women.'

He turned back to face her.

'Do you ever feel strange around women, Prince Ravian?' she asked with wide-eyed innocence.

His face flaming, Ravian groped for, but failed to find, a suitable reply. What an outrageous flirt she was!

Giving him a knowing look, Sinur cast her eyes about the vessel.

'Now, Your Highness,' she said. 'Why don't you tell me all about your longship?'

Ravian was relieved at the change of subject, and launched into a description of the various features of Wind Song, all the while aware that Sinur was paying only slight attention. As he talked though, he felt his blush receding and he gained enough confidence to look at her directly as she pretended to study the steering oar.

What a captivating creature!

Her hair was the colour of pale gold and her flawless skin glowed with good health. Her scent came to him – a blend of freshly cut flowers and blooming womanhood – and, for the first time, Ravian began to think that Tarcus might have produced a beauty to rival those of the Eastern Shore.

Then a bellow from above cut the moment savagely short.

'Sinur! What in the name of Delikas are you doing?!'

They both wheeled to where a large, red-faced, bearded man glared down at them from the quayside. Despite the new arrival's face being contorted with rage, Ravian immediately recognised Lemalus, head of the House of Kallan and a senior member of the Citizen's Council.

'Your mother and I take our eyes off you for two seconds and you disappear!' he bellowed. 'And now, here you are on a navy ship like some waterfront floozy! What, in the name of all that is holy, are we going to do with you?!'

Sinur appeared unfazed by the verbal barrage.

'Father, please,' she said reproachfully. 'You are embarrassing yourself in front of His Highness.'

Lemalus blinked and then nodded curtly at Ravian.

'Ah, Your Highness,' he said. 'I didn't see that it was you. All the same, Sinur, I want you off this ship and back to your mother immediately! She's waiting at the end of the quay.'

Sinur turned to Ravian and smiled.

'I'm so sorry that my visit has been so brief, Prince Ravian,' she said. 'Perhaps you would care to call at our residence sometime? – My father is usually known for his courtesy to guests.'

Ravian recollected that Lemalus actually had a reputation for being a stingy, bad-tempered old bully. All the same, he took the proffered hand and assisted Sinur back up onto the jetty.

This time, with her father glowering down at him, he was careful to avert his eyes from her hem, and he found the courage to say, 'Perhaps, with your father's permission, I might be allowed to escort you out?'

Lemalus began to say something but his daughter quickly interrupted him.

'That would be wonderful, Your Highness,' she said with another dazzling smile. 'We will look forward to your call.'

With that, she turned and was gone. Lemalus lingered for a moment, looking as though he still had something to say. Then, with a low growl and a final withering glare at Ravian, he hurried after his daughter.

Ravian stared after them for some time.

Already, he was wondering how he was going to cope with Lemalus as a father in law.

Sinur, Ravian discovered, was at the hub of the White City's social world, a world that, having first been cloistered at the palace, and then wrapped up in his military training, he had no real experience of. Away from the formal state and social occasions of the city, there existed a culture of plays, musical evenings and poetry readings frequented by the crème of young Tarcun society, to many of whom the trade of the nation was simply a financial means to follow artistic or intellectual pursuits.

Two nights after his first encounter with Sinur, Ravian called at Lemalus's house to escort Sinur out for the evening. As befitted a senior and influential member of the House of Kallan, the residence was a rather grand one, sited in an established and affluent area between the theatre and the city walls. Being of a similar elevation on the crater walls to that of the palace, the sweeping view from the carefully tended grounds of the mansion was very similar to the one enjoyed by the royal family. The fragrance of summer blooms filled the warm twilight as the prince mounted a gleaming white flight of steps and knocked upon the massive, column-flanked front door. A haughty, richly liveried servant admitted him into the main reception room of the house, a vast, gleaming space flanked by two curves of sweeping stairs and filled with rich furnishings and marble statues. Sinur's mother and father awaited him amongst this display of wealth and, despite the curtsy and bow with which they acknowledged his arrival, their haughty demeanour made it clear to Ravian that neither of them was overawed by his royal presence.

'Welcome to my humble home, Your Highness,' Lemalus greeted him in a tone that was anything but welcoming. 'Allow me to introduce my wife, Deleba.'

It was immediately evident to Ravian where Sinur had got her looks from. Deleba was considerably younger than her husband, and had the confident demeanour of an outstanding beauty born into a life of wealth and privilege.

Lemalus motioned towards a large couch and Ravian sat down, Sinur's parents taking their places on a matching sofa opposite.

'Our daughter will be down shortly,' Lemalus said. 'Can I offer you a glass of wine, Your Highness?'

At Ravian's nod, a servant appeared with three glasses of red wine on a tray. Ravian took a glass, an exquisite piece of the finest crystal, and raised it to his hosts.

'To the beauty of the ladies of Kallan,' he said.

Lemalus frowned but raised his own glass before half-draining it. Deleba, however, allowed him a small, condescending smile before raising her own glass to her lips. Ravian was not surprised to find that, despite the expensive, delicate vessels in which it was served, the wine was a rough drop from Survene – and probably a year or two past its best.

A few minutes of stilted inconsequential conversation ensued until Ravian's discomfort was relieved by the arrival of Sinur at the top of one of the staircases. As she descended towards them, her golden, silky gown flowing over her body like water, Ravian was struck, not only by her beauty, but also by the complete contrast with the woman that accompanied her.

'Good evening, Your Highness,' she said, halting before him with a small curtsy. 'May I introduce Mefad – my aunt and also my chaperone?'

'Charmed,' Ravian said with a courteous bow.

Mefad responded with an artless curtsy. The middle-aged woman, her substantial girth swathed in the black garb of a widow, was as homely as her name and clearly came from Lemalus's side of the family. She said nothing, but regarded the young prince with a knowing, baleful eye.

Ravian seized the opportunity to bid good evening to Lemalus and Deleba and, offering his arm to Sinur, he escorted her from the house and out into the street – every step shadowed by the silent presence of Mefad.

'Is your aunt to accompany us everywhere?' he whispered to Sinur, as they followed the street down towards the amphitheatre and its attendant area of restaurants and taverns.

'Of course!' she replied. 'You didn't think that you were going to get me alone in the dark did you?'

It was a beautiful, warm evening and the sound of social revelry carried to them from their destination.

'But I'm of the Royal House, damn it,' Ravian seethed. 'Surely that counts for something?'

'Hah!' Sinur scoffed, the humorous gleam in her eyes taking the seriousness away from her next words. 'My parents understand that it has counted for very little with the daughters of some of their acquaintances. Don't worry, Prince Ravian, when the time is right for us to be alone, Mefad will not be an obstacle.

What an intriguing comment, Ravian thought.

What he said was, 'Please, just call me Ravian.'

At Sinur's suggestion, he had agreed to accompany her to the opening night of a new play at the amphitheatre. He had heard about such events, of course, but had never actually attended one himself. Now, as they approached the theatre, its ornate exterior glowing in the light of a many torches and thronged around by what seemed to be hundreds of Tarcuns, he had to admit to a feeling of excitement that wasn't solely due to Sinur's presence.

Passing through one of the building's tall, arched doorways, they entered a crowded, brilliantly-lit reception chamber. People recognised them now and with a flurry of bowing and curtsying, a space opened before them. Into this gap in the human press stepped the theatre manager who, after bidding them an effusive welcome, escorted them to a special box to the side of the stage, some height above the crowd. Ravian and Sinur took their seats side by side, Mefad settling contentedly on her own seat behind them.

'Do you come to the theatre often?' Ravian asked his companion.

'All the time,' she replied, 'particularly when there is a new play. Shush now – here comes Precedius.'

To wild applause from the audience, a tall, slender figure strode onto the stage. Even Ravian had heard of Tarcus's most popular actor, who now bowed deeply to his public – and again in the direction of their box – before launching into his lines.

It was from this point that the evening began to lose its charm for Ravian.

Acting, he quickly decided, consisted of a group of men and women bellowing out inane lines in support of a puerile plot. The worst part was a so-called sword fight where Precedius and another actor used toy swords to flail away at each other like children in a nursery. The lead actor's "death", when it came, was even longer and more tedious than the battle that had preceded it and, as the audience rose in its ovation, the prince breathed a sigh of relief.

'We must go back-stage and meet the actors!' Sinur announced, as Precedius took his third curtain call. 'They have such frightfully fun parties on opening nights.'

Inwardly, Ravian groaned. He had been thinking that he might be able to go somewhere quieter with Sinur and, perhaps, lose Mefad along the way. Instead, he found the crowded, noisy back stage party even more tedious than the performance itself, starting with his introduction to the leading actor.

'Welcome, Your Highness,' Precedius had said with a deep, dramatic bow. 'I don't believe that we've had the pleasure of your company before.'

'No,' Ravian had confirmed. 'This is my first night.'

'Really?' Precedius had replied tartly, turning to Sinur. 'My Dear, you have clearly taken on a grave responsibility, introducing his highness to his own kingdom's culture. I presume that you will also be guiding Prince Ravian in his appreciation of poetry and the musical arts?'

'Absolutely,' Sinur replied. 'I think that you can look forward to seeing rather a lot of Prince Ravian in the town in future.'

'When my duties allow, of course,' Ravian said quickly.

'Duties?' Precedius asked haughtily. 'And what duties might those be, Your Highness?'

'Well,' Ravian began, 'I have the command of my longship for one thing.'

'Ravian is the youngest-ever longship captain,' Sinur gushed.

'Hmmm,' replied Precedius. 'I did my basic training like everybody else, of course, but I can't say that the navy is a way of life that ever appealed to me. All that rowing and hauling on rigging and such...not exactly intellectually stimulating is it?'

Ravian felt his ears redden at the actor's rudeness.

'I think that, had you ever been involved in any real action, you would have found that stimulating enough,' he said tightly.

'Possibly,' Precedius replied in a bored tone of voice. 'Really though, I can't think of anything more ghastly than having to kill a fellow human being.'

'And yet,' Ravian replied, ' the fact that we have an army and navy of men prepared to do just that means that you and every other artist in this nation can live in peace and prosperity.'

'Each to their own, Your Highness,' Precedius responded with an airy wave of his hand. 'I do hope though, that you don't find our world as much of a bore as we find yours.'

Ravian was about to make another, angry, response when he felt Sinur's hand on his arm.

'Ravian, we are monopolising the leading actor on his opening night,' she declared tactfully. 'Let us go and meet the rest of the cast – we'll have lots of time to talk with Precedius in the future.'

'I shall look forward to that immensely,' the actor replied with smooth insincerity and, bowing deeply, he withdrew into the crowd.

'I hope the rest of the cast aren't a bunch of whoopsies,' Ravian growled.

'I count Precedius among my friends,' Sinur admonished him. 'I can also assure you that, if some of my female acquaintances are to be believed, there is nothing unmanly about him in situations of intimacy.'

Ravian was furious but he kept his silence, determined not let the actor's rudeness get in the way of winning Sinur's affections.

For the next few weeks, this was the pattern of his relationship with Sinur – evenings out at plays, poetry readings or musical recitals, crowded with people and perpetually shadowed by Aunt Mefad.

Ravian was often uncomfortable in the gay, witty conversations that were an inevitable part of these events, and the prince soon realised that it was only his royal blood, and the consummate social skills of Sinur, that saved him from summary dismissal as a military boor.

Ravian found that he did enjoy the poetry readings – if not the pretentious parties that accompanied them. He also mostly enjoyed the musical performances, despite finding the musicians themselves to be a rather detached, insular breed. The dramatic plays, however, he invariably found tedious and the actors – subsequently encountered at back-stage parties such as the one on the first night – consistently rude and egotistical.

Sinur guided him through this new world with a confident hand, introducing him as "My Gallant Sea Captain" to much eye rolling and raising of eyebrows from the regular patrons of the arts. Ravian continued to be utterly entranced by her beauty, her social skills and her attentiveness and, as his reception at her parents' home slowly warmed, from restrained hostility to cool tolerance, he made more and more time to be with her.

Their first kiss was a stolen moment in the shadows outside the theatre, having temporarily stranded Mefad in the crowd inside, and, as they became bolder, they sought the opportunity to give her the slip with increasing frequency, sometimes employing Sinur's friends to divert the dowager aunt from her dutiful attentiveness.

One particular evening, they found that their latest strategy had been so successful, that they were able to walk alone all the way from the town centre back to Sinur's parents' house. Not daring to return to the residence without Mefad, they then had to wait in the deserted street outside for her to catch up. They had both taken more wine than they should have and, seizing the moment, Ravian suddenly pulled Sinur into a darkened doorway. To his surprise and delight, Sinur embraced him with an urgency that seemed to match his own and, as her mouth hungrily sought his and she pressed against him, she allowed his hands to roam freely beneath her gown.

Suddenly they heard the footsteps that they knew signalled the approach of their chaperone and she broke away from him with a gasp.

'Tonight,' she whispered, giving his hand a final squeeze. 'Come to my balcony tonight.'

Thus, having duly bid Sinur and Mefad goodnight at the front door of Lemalus's house, Ravian circled around into an alleyway behind the property. Easily scaling the head-high, stone wall that protected its perimeter, he crept soundlessly through the immaculate garden within and, surrounded by the night chorus of crickets and the heavy scent of jasmine, he waited below the low balcony outside that which he knew to be her room.

After what seemed an eternity, the doors onto to the balcony opened and Sinur stepped into the moonlight. In an instant, Ravian was over the balustrade and they were in each other's arms, their passionate kisses igniting an irresistible fire. Staggering inside to her bed, the young couple made love until the prince crept away at the first light of dawn.

For both of them it was a moment of significant commitment.

Although virginity was not an especially prized asset amongst Tarcuns generally, society expected the daughters of the Nine Houses to be exceptions. In giving herself to him that night, Ravian knew, Sinur had contravened a strict code and it was not an act that he took lightly. At the same time, she was a passionate and exciting lover from the very first and, despite his concern for the undoubted wrath of her father should they be discovered, Ravian found himself irresistibly drawn to her balcony every evening he was not at sea.

Three months after his first tryst with Sinur, the king summoned Ravian to an audience.

The fact that his father had called him to a formal meeting filled the prince with anxiety – all Jabacus usually needed to do to talk to him when he was in the palace was to walk down a hallway and knock on his door. As he entered the audience room, it took only one look at the faces of his mother and father to confirm that his concern was not misplaced. While Beriel's face was cool and impassive – in itself a warning sign – Jabacus was clearly annoyed about something, and Ravian had barely made his bow before the king began to speak.

'I have just been speaking with Admiral Acrusta,' Jabacus announced. 'He has informed me – admittedly, after being put under some pressure – that Wind Song has not sailed for two out of the last six exercises.'

Ravian swallowed. He hadn't expected this.

'I am further informed,' the king went on, 'that Wind Song has rapidly gone from being one of the best longships in the fleet to one of the most mediocre – which is probably unavoidable with the lack of sea time the vessel is getting.'

Ravian didn't have to wait long for the approaching storm to break.

'The vessel commanded by a prince of this country must never be a mediocre performer!' thundered his father. 'And a longship commanded by the future admiral of the fleet will not sit alongside gathering barnacles while her captain flounces around town like a drunken actor!'

Ah, thought Ravian, his father's agenda was becoming clearer by the second.

'You are wasting too much time with that Kallan girl,' the queen interjected. 'She's not good for you.'

Ravian felt his temper beginning to rise. His parents had never criticised his private affairs before.

'Sinur is not to blame for my lack of attention to Wind Song,' he blustered, his ears burning. 'Besides, she is showing me aspects of our culture that I have not been acquainted with before.'

Now that the real topic of conversation had been engaged, the king and queen seemed to relax slightly.

'Ravian,' his father said more softly, 'it's good that you are enjoying your youth, but to do so at the expense of your training is unpardonable, almost treasonable. Your brother and this kingdom are going to need a strong, disciplined admiral.'

'And,' Beriel continued, 'neglecting your duties over someone like Sinur is simply foolish!'

'What do you mean, "someone like Sinur",' Ravian flared. 'Is there something that I should know?'

'Not at all, Dear,' his mother replied coolly – looking away as she spoke.

'Ravian,' his father said, 'we've not interfered in your private life before, nor did we intend to up until now, but Sinur is from a powerful house of this kingdom. If you are just entertaining yourself, then you should do so with a different girl – how long do you think it is going to take for Lemalus to notice that trail wearing across his back lawn?'

Ravian felt his face turn crimson.

Of course, the royal spies had observed his night time excursions and reported them to his parents.

'It's not just a dalliance,' he mumbled. 'We…we love each other.'

'Love!' his mother snorted. 'People your ages don't understand the meaning of the word!'

Ravian locked eyes with his mother. She was a forthright, strong-willed woman who, as her three boisterous sons had been growing up, had always dealt with them with a firm but loving hand. Ravian was no longer a child though and, for a moment, he hated her.

'Look, Ravian,' his father said, interrupting the tense silence, 'I am not going to live forever and, until Jeniel produces an heir, you are still next in line to this throne. Whether your destiny is as this nation's king or as its commander in chief, you will need someone beside you who can help you carry the responsibility.'

'And for all that Sinur may be from a very good family, and for all that she may be a very nice girl,' his mother continued – in a tone that left no doubt that she didn't think Sinur was a nice girl at all, 'she is not the sort of woman who could be queen. The crown of this country may be a pretty thing, but it is no bauble and it carries an awful weight'.

Ravian looked from one of his parents to the other.

'Are you saying that I should select a more suitable wife?' he asked them. 'Is that the way it was for you?'

His parents exchanged a glance.

'No, Ravian, it wasn't,' his father said. 'I was lucky enough to meet and fall in love with someone who, from the first, I knew would be able to help me bear my responsibilities. Had I felt that your mother would not have been able to share my burden, and do so with dignity and with pride, I would never have asked her to be my wife.'

Beriel and Jabacus exchanged a loving look.

'Sinur and I haven't discussed marriage,' Ravian said, trying not to sound surly.

'Oh you will, don't worry about that!' said his mother with sudden vehemence. 'She's got her eyes on a life in the palace, that one. You are just a means to an ends, My Boy.'

Ravian was aghast – he had never seen his mother act this way.

'Ravian,' his father said in a soothing voice, 'your mother and I are only thinking about your best interests. None of us can change your royal destiny and, if Sinur is the right one for you, then so be it – but she must start to see that she needs to share you with your responsibilities. Please promise me that you will not let your social life override your duties again.'

'I don't have my own life!' Ravian protested. 'Neither does Jeniel. Nor does Ramus. None of us do!'

To his surprise, both his parents nodded sympathetically.

'That's right, Dear,' his mother said softly. 'I think that you are beginning to understand.'

Ravian said nothing to Sinur of the meeting with his parents, but he did vow to himself that he would no longer forsake his duties to be with her. It was not long before the requirements of the Tarcun navy conflicted with Sinur's social programme.

'We're sailing down to Beldona the day after tomorrow,' he told her across her pillow one evening. 'I don't expect we'll be away for much more than ten days.'

'Oh, Darling, what a bore!' she groaned. 'Precedius is opening a new play in five days – one he has written himself. There will be a wonderful party and everyone will be there. How can I possibly attend without My Gallant Sea Captain?'

Ravian grimaced inwardly. Anywhere that Sinur went without him would soon present her with a choice of handsome, attentive escorts. A crowd of eligible suitors would surround her the moment his ship was over the horizon.

Mind you, he thought to himself, it was almost worth it not to have to socialise with Precedius.

'I'm sorry, Sinur, but it really can't be helped,' he told her. 'In fact…I've been letting things slip a bit lately – because I enjoy being with you so much. I've really got to knuckle down and behave a bit more like a prince of the realm.'

Sinur paused as she considered this.

'Of course you do, Darling,' she replied. 'I keep forgetting that you are a member of the royal family. To me, you are simply a man – my man, and so much of a man – but I suppose that we have both allowed our love to obscure the fact that you have some very important things to do. Neither of us should forget that your duty must come first.'

Ravian sighed happily. He had been dreading denying Sinur her way and now he saw that the she totally understood and supported him. His parents were so wrong about her.

'Have I told you how much I love you?' he asked her.

'Of course you have, Sweetheart – just before, while we were making love. Now' – she moved against him provocatively – 'if you are going to be away for ten days, we had better make sure that you are too spent to be tempted by any of those dark-eyed witches of the South.'

Thus, their romance entered a more settled phase, Ravian happier now that he felt the balance between his responsibilities and his personal life had been restored. Within a short time, he was satisfied that Wind Song was once again the best ship in the Tarcun navy and, as Acrusta's retirement loomed ever nearer, he began to feel increasingly confident about taking over the old admiral's position.

His love for Sinur remained undiminished and she continued to return his affections. Inevitably, they discussed the subject of marriage.

'Sinur, we will marry,' he had told her. 'Once Acrusta retires, and I take over as Admiral of the Fleet, I'll have more control of my schedule. That will be the time for us to marry and have a family.'

'But, Darling, that's at least another year away!' Sinur had groaned. 'Why can't you make an honest woman out of me sooner?'

'It's just not the right moment,' he told her. 'Not only do I still have a lot of work to do to ready myself for the admiral's position, but I've got another project that is going to take up a lot of time.'

'As long as that "other project" is not some other woman,' she had pouted.

It wasn't.

Ravian, for the first time in his military career, shortcut the usual chain of command and went directly to his father. They met informally, seated on a sunny balcony of the palace that looked out towards the harbour.

'I have an idea, Father, to build a new sort of warship,' the prince announced.

'Ravian, I'm pleased that you are so thoroughly applying yourself to your duties, although,' his father added with a wry smile, 'they tell me that the trail across Lemalus' back lawn is now worn to dust. But don't you think that you should be speaking with Admiral Acrusta on this subject?'

'The admiral is this country's finest sailor and as loyal as any man could be,' Ravian replied. 'He has been like a second father to me and I love him dearly – but he is a man of tradition and he will never give his approval to something as revolutionary as that which I'm proposing. I have already suggested it to him informally and he showed not the slightest bit of interest.'

'I understand,' said the king. 'What did you have in mind?'

'I want to build a longship that can ram under sail,' Ravian told him. 'Not just ram, but to be able to run up and over the rail of an enemy, smashing her gunwale and, hopefully, sinking her instantly. I envisage a reinforced bow and keel of bronze, if it is technically possible. A bronze keel would be heavy, but we already put lead ballast on the keels of our longships anyway. There would be no ramming projection like the galleys use – rather, the shape of keel and stem would be like the curve of a sword.'

'And how and where would you develop such a craft?' his father asked.

'All our bronze is smelted in Belainus,' Ravian said. 'It doesn't have much of a harbour, but it will do for our purposes and secrecy will probably be easier to maintain there than in the White City. I'd like to commission a bronze worker and a shipbuilder from that city to build a half scale model to test my theory.'

His father pursed his lips.

'And at what point would you intend to inform Admiral Acrusta?' he asked.

'The admiral retires in a little over a year – and I take over his position,' Ravian reminded his father. 'If we are able to build a working model in that time – one that can be used as a template for future, full-sized construction – I would be more than satisfied. The admiral doesn't need to know that this work is going on while he is in command. In fact, the fewer people who do know about this, the better.'

'Hmmm,' his father mused. 'It sounds interesting.'

Then he smiled.

'I hope your young lady is understanding,' the king said. 'Between carrying out your captain's duties and slipping backwards and forwards to Belainus to look after your secret project, she's not going to see very much of you.'

Ravian would always suspect that his father's approval for the project had as much to do with testing his relationship with Sinur as it did with securing Tarcus's position as a dominant sea power.