A gentle yet persistent breeze wafted up from the sea and coursed through the narrow streets of The Port of Diligence, its salty scent engulfing her, mesmerising her, and blowing her hair right into her open mouth. Spitting out her curls, she continued trotting behind Lord Simon, the last of the steps of the journey on Greenlander soil as heavy for her as for Billy limping on his right front leg.

She tugged at his reins as a veiled woman with skin so pale she could hardly be a southerner crossed the road between her and the Lord. "Watch where you are going!" she gesticulated.

Billy had come to a standstill for no reason; the woman was already bargaining with the tanned man with a bare torso and baggy reddish trousers who stood behind a rolling cart topped with linen in lavish colours. 

His Jade Islandic list rolled off his tongue. "Three pieces of gold? Greed lives in you, M'dam! You won't find better silk in this town. 'T is eight pieces, and then I'm letting Charity control my tongue."

Alex's heart sunk as she beckoned Billy to go. She would give all the gold in the world to keep on pretending Father had been a merchant too. Even a penny-pinching one would have been better than a pirate; thief and murderer combined. They were worse than the magicians for they were ordinary men who preferred a sinful life over a virtuous one.

Oh, how she wished King Thomas was lying and Father had always spoken the truth about his past. She had been about the size of his legs when she had realised that he was unlike any of the other Lanebyers. His skin tone was darker, and he spoke differently than Master Harold, Lord Brandon, and the other men in town. She could almost feel the ghost of his embrace as she remembered him picking her up and showing the painting of the ship with large black sails that hung in their living room. Through storm and wind, he had brought goods across the Jade Sea.

Stolen goods, no doubt.

Lord Simon turned a sharp corner, to a cobblestone street that had ochre-coloured houses with flat roofs on one end and ships larger than those houses on the other. Everywhere she looked, men with booming voices were shouting at each other while they loaded on unloaded large crates. Above her head seagulls batted their wings and squawked their song of Greed.

At the end of the pier laid a ship so tall it cast a shadow on the ship bobbing next to it. Lord Simon turned his head and wiggled his eyebrows. "There she is, Missy. The Acedia's Revenge, the fastest ship in the five kingdoms."

Alex raised her head as she approached the large wooden construction. To call it a ship would be an insult to whoever built it. It was art grander than the ceiling of Sunstone Castle's dining hall. On the stern danced figurines of luscious women with bare-chested men; a sharp contrast to the battle of the God of Diligence with his sinful siblings that was depicted in between the gun ports. Three masts-taller than trees were needed to carry the layered dark green sails, the largest bearing the sigil of the Port of Diligence: four seagulls flying around the Greenlander sycamore.

"How do they even make this?" Alex wondered out loud as they halted. She jumped off Billy to study the ship up close.

"One bit at a time." Lord Simon guffawed. "Cedar trees were used for both the keel and the frames. The artwork is made out of northern pine wood, hardened by Ician winters for extra strength. The Jade Islanders I paid to carve and paint cost me half a fortune, so the sails were made from closer to home. The flax comes from Whiskerhall's field, but hand-sewn by women of the Port."

"Hey, Simon, you're stealing my thunder." A greying man with apparent lisp stood on the deck, thirty feet above her, a grin covering his olive-toned face all the way to his almond brown eyes. A Jade Islander. "Now how do I have to impress your little lady?"

"Miss Alex, let me introduce you to the one and only Captain Ivar."

"No silly army Captain. A real one." Ivar grabbed one of the ropes hanging from the mainmast and slid down. He jumped down the last few feet, landing without as much as a moan or a groan. "Pleasure to meet you, Alex."

She refrained from bowing, unsure how much the Jade Islandic Captain knew about her real identity, so she gave him a short nod. "Likewise. Good jump."

A gold tooth shone brightly as he smiled. "I like you already."

"I take it you received my letter." Lord Simon looked to over his shoulder, first to his left, then his right. "She must be at Boylar Laszlo's feast. From there, she knows what to do."

The Captain narrowed his eyes, throwing her a suspicious glance. "Does she now..."

Alex kept a stoic face. No smile nor frown, just the fluttering of her eyebrows. In just a few days she would introduce herself as an orphan girl in search of her relatives. Anyone offering work for a few pennies was interesting, and possibly a step closer to finding the Pirates.

General George had advised to play no other role but herself since it would be the easiest cover to maintain over a longer period. She was never allowed to mention Laneby or the Greenlander royal family, which was fine. Her bow would be her real weapon to show the Jade Islanders what she could do. Her past didn't matter; she was only looking at the future now.

"A future in Father's footsteps," whispered the God of Pride in her mind.

"Shall I take your friend to my mansion?" Lord Simon had gotten off his own stallion and was now holding Billy by the reins. "He can stay in my stable until your return. Plenty of mares to keep him company until then." 

"No, he's coming with me." She bit her lip as she turned back to Billy, petting his long white mane. Knowing Nick, he would strangle her if she left him in a foreign place where he knew no other person or horse.

"Are you sure?  Horses aren't too keen on ships—they scare easily," the Lord insisted.

"Not Billy. He's the bravest horse I know." She planted a kiss on his nose. "I would only agree if he were to be taken back to Sundale. He either belongs with me or back there."

"I'm not travelling to the capital until summer. And I hope to take you back with me when I do." Lord Simon eyed the Captain. "Are you fine with having a horse on board?"

"There's too little time to let him grow accustomed to the darkness below deck." Captain Ivar rubbed his hand over his spiralling salt-and-pepper beard. "You did foresee a small stable on the deck, but the lads and I have claimed it to store storm lines, wood, and some extra anchors."

"Please!" She clasped her hands together, pleading. "I won't leave his side. He's very dear to me."

Lord Simon peered into the horizon. "Clear sky. Not a cloud in sight. The nights have been bright and warm, even up north. Leave any supplies you don't need, Captain. Take the horse with you to Mora."

"It's an extra risk, Simon. I have to think about my men..." He gesticulated with his shoulders, barely moving his arms.

Lord Simon sniffed dramatically. He reached for his saddle bag.  Coins tingled as he fished out a small velvet red bag and presented it to the Captain. "Perhaps this will change your mind."

Captain Ivar tucked the bag into the side pocket of his dark baggy pants. "Always a pleasure doing business with you Greenlanders."

"Likewise. You may not be Pirates, but you lot are still robbing us blind," Lord Simon said with a cheeky grin. He turned to Alex and put his hand on her shoulder. "This is where I leave you, Missy. May the Gods aid you in your quest. Each and every Porter is counting on you. Keep Aunt Bertie posted when you can."

"I shall."

It had been another part of the General's plan. Aunt Bertie was the mother of Lord Simon's cook's daughter-in-law. Writing to an old lady in Starlane was far less suspicious than addressing the letters to the Lord—or Gods forbid—His Majesty. Bertie would also pass along any message to Captain Jonathan's maid, Mary.

"Time to go. Can you climb, little lady?" Captain Ivar held the rope in his hand. "It's the quickest way to get up on the deck."

"Of course." She had climbed practically every tree in the Forest of Lane. Going up a rope was child's play. "But what about Bily?"

"We'll hoist him up." He whistled his fingers. "Jorn!"

A man in his late twenties with pitch black hair glanced over the railing. "Aye?"

"We've got some extra cargo. Fetch a good rope to bring him up and get someone to clear the deck stable."

Acid found its way to Alex's stomach as a shabby sling was thrown off board and slung around the horse. Billy neighed in panic as the Captain fastened the ropes. 

It was only temporary. Once they were standing on the deck, all would be well.

Four of Captain Ivar's men were standing by the railing now, pulling at the ropes. Billy kept on neighing, almost like shrieks as the ground beneath his hooves disappeared. He kicked his legs into thin air, his ears all flat.

It broke her heart, but she wasn't going to change her mind. She took a rope with both hands and pulled herself up, hand by hand, her feet shuffling along. "Look at me boy, we'll do it together."

The flailing of his hooves stopped as his brown marble eyes fixated on her. He neighed when the men pulled him up too fast, giving Alex no time to catch up, and let an even louder neigh when she moved quicker than he did. That stubborn stallion!

Up on the deck, the men quickly released Billy from his terrifying prison. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him an extra-tight hug. "I'm so sorry, boy. Let's agree to never tell Nick about this, shall we?"

He snorted as he pushed his muzzle into her bag.

"Yes, you've earned your apples." She giggled. "I'll prepare them shortly."

"That's one special horse." A young sailor with long braided black hair rocked on his feet, his face covered in freckles. "Is he Scorian?"

"Halfbreed. His mother was one. His father was but an ordinary farm horse." Sahrah had been one of Lord Ian's horses, acquired from old King William himself. She and Frederic's stallion, Reg, had shared a meadow one spring. The result a year later had been Billy. "He's the best horse to have around. Scorian wit combined with Greenlander strength."

"And he's got a knack for Jade Islandic dramatics," he suggested.

"Are you insulting my horse?"

"Well... no... yes... maybe, it was a joke."

Before Alex could say that it was not a very fun one, Captain Ivar swung on board, landing on deck with a soft thump. "Take your special horse to the bow. It's the best view you'll have. We're leaving in five."

The young sailor escorted her to the front of the ship. Four rowing boats carrying six men each bobbed on the waves. They were tanned but none had the typical Jade Islandic chiselled eyebrows or small eyes. They were Greenlanders.

"What are they doing?" she asked.

"First time sailing?" He chuckled. There was something mischievous about his smile, almost as though he was mocking her again. "Ships as big as this first need to be taken to deep waters before we can set the sails. The men below work for the harbour. It's easy coin for them. But a hassle if we have to do it ourselves. Time is money."

"Does this also mean you have no time for a name?" Alex turned around, her back against the railing.

"Len. I already know yours—you're Alex." He unravelled a coil of rope and threw it down to one of the sailing boats. "You're the reason we're getting double wages. It's suspicious if you ask me, a girl travelling alone from the Port to Mora, but who am I?"

"I'm not alone. I got Billy." She took the apple out of her bag and grabbed Seb's dagger from her belt. She peeled the apple, throwing the skin into the water to feed the fish.

Under loud shouting, the men below rowed on, steering the ship away from the harbour. The wind swept through her hair and blew the salt of the wide open sea to her lips.

She cut the apple into four pieces and placed them on the ground for Bily to gobble up. Her legs itched to run, and so she did. From the bow to the stern, and back. Though the vastness that was the big blue remained the same size, the ochre houses grew smaller and smaller until the Port of Diligence was but a city of fairies.

Billy shook his mane each time she raced past him. Silly horse. He should be grateful that neither she nor any of the sailors were pushing him into the rectangular horse-sized casket that was the deck stable. No wonder Captain Ivar had used as an extra storage space. It was a death-trap.

"This is it, men. Pull back the ropes and hoist the sails!" bellowed Captain Ivar. "Gods, bless us. Let our voyage be swift and without danger."

Alex stood still as Len unknotted the ropes at the front. When the last of the four laid back on deck, he raised his hand, to which dozens of puffing men rotated the sails into the direction of the wind.

Driven by nothing but the force of blowing air, the Acedia's Revenge sped across the waves, throwing droplets of salt water on board.

Billy flattened his ears, a signal to move him away from the bow. In front of the deck stable, she sat down and pulled off her bag, her quiver, and her bow. She ran her fingers through the frightened horse's manes. "It's been a heavy journey. Why don't we rest a little?"

He snorted, bumping his head into her quiver.

"Yeah, I know." She had promised Lord Simon to read His Majesty's letter about Father and Lord Brandon when she was safely aboard the ship. Part of her wasn't ready to get answers to these questions that were burning in her mind. Why was Father a Pirate? How did Lord Brandon discover? And why did he lie about it being a bear attack?

She sat on her knees and pulled out four arrows before she stuck her hand in and grabbed the thick scroll. Edging closer to Billy, who had lied down next to her, she slid the ribbon off and unfolded the paper.

The handwriting was sloppy, as though the King had ordered Seb to write it for him, but even for him, the scribbles were too messy. It wasn't a surprise, really. The King's office always looked like a cannonball of ink and paper had gone off in there. Unlike Fox's scrawls, this was still readable.

Alex, brave and sweet little Alex,

I hope the journey to the Port of Diligence has been a pleasant one and that Lord Simon and his men were good hosts. The Southerners can get a little peculiar I'm afraid.

Before your quest begins, I have information that will prove to be useful to open the necessary doors. It concerns your father.

As you may know, he and Bran became friends after my father had sent Bran as an envoy to the Islands. Vanya became a guest at court. For a while, wherever my brother was, Vanya the Jade Islander would turn up alongside him.

For reasons unknown to me, he was extremely loyal to Bran, though he did not needed to be. When my brother left and settled in Laneby, it was only evident that Vanya followed him.

But then three years ago came word from Laneby that Vanya the Jade Islander was no more. Killed by a bear during a winter hunt was Bran's official statement and the explanation given to your poor mother.

it was not.

Moons later, I received a lengthy confession from Bran that he had found out that Vanya had been a commander among The Sailing Ghosts, a Hamra gang of pirates that terrorised the south-western cities twenty-five years ago. What should have been a happy hunt, turned into a bloody battle between the two men.

Since this information isn't well-known at court, I couldn't tell you while you were still in Sundale. Use the voyage to Mora to let matters sink in. Once, you're at Lazslo Bolar's party, use your father's name and find his connections of old to get the information we need. If there is one person who can prevent more blood to be spilt, it will be you.

I have faith in you.

H.M. King Thomas

Her lips trembled as her stomach fed the growing lump in her throat. She crushed the paper into a ball that fit in her hand. The letter didn't explain anything; she just had to accept that she was her father's daughter, the daughter of a Pirate.

And now she had to fight them, as though it was her job to settle the score, that Lord Brandon killing Father hadn't been enough.

She shook her head. No, it hadn't happened. Father's death must have been an accident. There was no hunting without the occasional wound—everybody knew that.

A couple of summers ago, Frederic had accidentally fired an arrow at Lucy. She had climbed the wrong tree at the wrong time, and nobody had tried to cover it. Of course, the arrow had only lightly scraped her leg, but Lord Brandon had shouted at his daughter for all of Laneby to hear.

It was one of the few times that she had seen the man angry.

She unfolded the ball and reread the letter. Hours passed by, the bright light of the day slipping into the beautiful colours of the evening sun, yet all Alex had eyes for was that letter. By evening, when Captain Ivar's crew of twenty sat down on the deck and brought out the bottles of a liquid they called palm tears, the content was so engraved in her memory that Nick would have been proud of her ability to recite something by heart.

Father was dead because of Lord Brandon. Every clapping of hands, every pat on the back, suddenly felt fake. His reason for allowing her to train among men had been selfish; his kindness fed by guilt—she had no other explanation.

"Would you like to join us?" Len gawked at her with a stunned expression on his face. He scratched his face, gesticulating at the group of men.

"I can't. I'm looking after Billy." She stroked the horse's forehead. He was sleeping soundly, his head resting on her lap.

"And reading that letter." He sniggered awkwardly, his eyes trailing to the ground. "Please, I insist.  You may be cargo, but Ivar's Companions are known for looking well after their cargo."

"I don't take indecent offers from questionable men."

He pursed his lips, no trace left of that shy boy that was standing before her but a second ago. "Your father must have raised you well."

The paper crunched in her hand, her nostrils flaring. Despite it all, she put a smile on her face. "He did. Oh, he sure did."

"Who was he—a Lord, a Captain, or is it true that you are the daughter of a King?"

Carefully, she slipped from under Billy to not wake him up, then she stood tall and put her hands in her side. She looked straight into his dark brown eyes. "I'm no one. I have no past, only a future."

Len leant back, not looking too impressed with her performance. "And in this present moment?"

"I could use a drink."