Free Sword of Wrath (Kormak Book Eight) by William King Page A

sir. And if I might say so, I am glad to have you with us here. Only…”
    “Only?”
    “Some of the lads is worried, sir. I mean, having a Guardian of the Order of the Dawn present usually means we are expected to encounter monsters or magic or Old Ones.”
    So that was what was eating at the old sergeant, thought Kormak. “Tell them there’s no need to worry on the voyage out, as far as I can tell. My business is in Terra Nova. Not on this ship.”
    Terves smiled and said, “They’ll be glad to hear that, sir.”
    Kormak himself was not so sure. As soon as the words had left his mouth, he felt their wrongness, strong as a foreboding, and he had learned long ago to pay attention to such presentiments of danger.

    * * *
    T he passengers lined the port side of the ship as the late afternoon sun beamed down. Kormak stood with them, watching as Rhiana swam beside the ship. She had no difficulty keeping up. Sometimes her dolphin sported beside her, and she would grab its fin and vanish beneath the waves. Off-duty sailors plunged into the water, diving from the high sides of the ship and ploughing cleanly into the waves. They swam with her and tried to pet the dolphin. She vanished below, and did not emerge until someone shouted from the other side, and she emerged there.
    Kormak wondered why she was doing it. She was drawing attention to herself, and making sure that everyone knew she was not like the gowned ladies who strolled the decks beneath their parasols. He saw some of them looked uneasy, and not a few of their men. There were murmurings about her shamelessness. There were comments about how she was a moonchild. Eyes turned to him and judged him for consorting with her. No one dared mutter about it within earshot.
    Rhiana looked happy though, and that made him happy. She had missed the sea. It was her natural element. She was at home in those waters in a way a land-dweller would never be. Kormak did not even like being on the ship.
    Rhiana pulled herself out of the water, clambering up the rope webbing on the sides. Water dripped from her skin. Her clothes clung to her body, revealing her form. Some of the men came closer to look; some of the women turned away scandalised. Kormak wondered if this was going to cause any trouble on the voyage.
    She sprang over the bannister, landing lithely on her feet, dripping water onto the deck. Kormak pushed through the crowd of admirers around her and made his way to her side.
    “That was refreshing,” she said. “Why did you not join me?”
    “Carrying this sword interferes with my swimming,” Kormak said.
    She laughed and went below. Kormak followed her. The murmurings faded behind him. There might indeed be trouble about this for both of them, but at that moment, he did not care.

Chapter Eight
    O utside , the night-black ocean sloshed against the side of the ship. The calls of the sailors on watch sounded in the darkness. The chandelier swung over the large oaken table bolted to the cabin floor in the admiral’s dining chamber.
    Hugo arrived bearing a tray with flasks of wine, and plates of sliced bread and olive oil to dip it in. Outside the wind was picking up.
    Zamara sat at the head of the table. Kormak sat to his right. Next to him was Rhiana, across from her was the windcaller. Orson Waters sat next to Zamara on the left hand side. He clapped as the food came in, and smiled at one and all. The big man beamed warmth.
    As Hugo poured the wine, Zamara said, “I am glad you could join us, Goodman Waters.” He turned his goblet around in his hands and studied the huge man hulking over the table, as if wondering how someone with no title had managed to get there.
    “I am honoured to be here,” said Waters. “I am sure there are many more worthy of the privilege of dining with the Captain-General of next year’s treasure fleet.”
    Was there an undertone of mockery in that throaty voice, Kormak wondered? It was hard to tell.
    “Come now,” said Zamara. “You