The crossing to Tiefland lasted one day and one deeply unsettling night.
For most of the journey, Lily remained near the railing, staring across Uther's Crossing in wonder. She had not seen the sea since her previous life, and compared with its endless blue expanse, her lake suddenly seemed impossibly small.
The merchant cog rose and dipped beneath her feet while ropes strained and timbers groaned around her. Lily insisted she was not seasick, even as she gripped the railing with both hands.
"The ship is sick," she declared. "It keeps moving wrong."
"Of course," Robin replied, standing close enough to catch her whenever the deck tilted. "The ship's fault entirely."
Lily narrowed her eyes at him, but another swell lifted the vessel before she could answer. She grabbed his sleeve and held on until the world steadied.
By evening, Tiefland's coastline emerged through the haze—a dark line of land marked by distant towers and the silhouettes of ships moving near the mainland.
As the sun disappeared, Lily remained at the railing, admiring the sea beneath the moon and stars. Silver light danced across the waves, transforming Uther's Crossing into something vast and beautiful.
Then the captain gave a quiet order, and the mood aboard the ship changed.
Every lantern was extinguished. The cooking fire was smothered, loose barrels were secured, and cloth was wrapped around chains and metal fittings to keep them from rattling. Sailors lowered their voices until only the water and the slow groaning of the hull remained.
Wrapped in Art's cloak, Lily stood upon a coil of rope and peered into the darkness.
"There no storm," she whispered. "Why everyone hiding?"
Robin looked equally puzzled. This was his first journey at sea as well.
The fat brother sat nearby, supposedly guarding them, though he seemed more interested in sleeping against a barrel.
Then Lily's sharp eyes caught movement far across the moonlit water.
A tall fin sliced through the surface.
Several smaller ridges followed, then the outline of a long tail. Most of the creature remained submerged, but Lily glimpsed armored scales, jagged fins, and powerful clawed limbs folded against its sides.
A sharp horn rose from its skull.
Violet-white light suddenly flashed across the creature's body, gathering around the horn like a signal lantern. For a single heartbeat, the beast shone like lightning trapped beneath the sea.
Lily saw tiny black eyes buried beneath thick skin, a massive jaw crowded with crooked teeth, and a body resembling some terrible mixture of shark, lizard, dragon, and rhinoceros.
She seized Robin's arm.
"Look! What is that?"
Robin stirred from his half-doze, but the light vanished before he could focus.
"Probably nothing."
The fat brother opened one eye.
"If you saw violet light, it was probably a Stormhorn," he murmured. "Deadly night hunters."
Lily turned toward him in disbelief.
"Why you sound calm? There monster outside."
"Aye." He smiled faintly, though he kept his voice low. "Common enough in these waters."
Another violet flash appeared farther across the Crossing.
This time, Robin saw it too.
The first Stormhorn answered.
For several moments, the two creatures exchanged pulses of light across the darkness, each flash brighter than the last. The strange display drew sailors quietly toward the railing.
Then electricity began crawling across the creatures' horns, fins, and armored backs, revealing bodies nearly as large as wagons.
Both Stormhorns turned toward one another.
Then they charged.
They tore across the water with astonishing speed, splitting the calm sea behind them while lightning crackled over their bodies. Sailors gasped as the monsters collided with a thunderous crash.
Water exploded upward.
The Stormhorns burst from the sea together, twisting beneath the stars as claws scraped across scales and jaws closed around armored flesh. Their horns struck, and lightning gathered between them.
A blinding flash tore through the night.
The force hurled both creatures apart. Smoke curled from their bodies as they crashed back beneath the waves, throwing walls of water high into the air.
Yet neither retreated.
They surfaced several ship-lengths apart and attacked again, biting, clawing, and rolling through the dark sea.
The sailors watched in stunned silence.
"Never seen two fight like that," one whispered.
"Mad creatures."
Lily could only stare.
Art and Reinheart had seemed impossibly powerful upon land, yet she could not imagine either of them willingly facing a Stormhorn in open water.
Then the sea beyond the battle began to rise.
At first, Lily mistook it for a wave.
It continued growing.
Another burst of lightning illuminated a vast shadow beneath the surface—something long and broad enough to resemble a submerged tower. Water poured from its back as part of the creature emerged like a hill rising from the sea: a curved ridge of scales and the beginning of an immense neck, thicker than the ship's mast.
Every sailor froze.
The two Stormhorns flashed once.
Then, as if they had sensed the greater danger, both fled.
One tore eastward through the waves. The other vanished toward the west, their glowing fins rapidly disappearing into the darkness.
The enormous shadow followed.
"What is that?" Lily whispered.
The fat brother was fully awake now.
"The king of the sea," he replied. "A sea serpent."
Lily stared at the moving mountain of flesh and scales.
People in Einsway had claimed that King Uther once crossed these waters with twenty knights and slew the great serpent Galgazar.
Looking at the creature now, Lily found the tale difficult to believe.
Unless King Uther had been far more than an ordinary man.
"That is serpent?" she whispered.
The fat brother immediately raised a finger.
"Quiet."
The beast passed far from the ship, yet its movement sent a long swell rolling across the Crossing. The cog rose upon the wave and tilted sharply toward the mainland. Barrels strained against their ropes, the mast leaned overhead, and Lily clung to Robin while he wrapped an arm tightly around her.
For one terrifying moment, the immense shadow seemed to turn toward them.
No one moved.
No one breathed.
Then it continued after one of the fleeing Stormhorns and disappeared beneath the sea.
Only then did the sailors begin breathing again.
The fat brother slowly settled against his barrel.
"Stormhorns sense light, movement, and blood," he explained. "Some say they gather lightning during storms and store it inside their bodies."
Lily swallowed.
"And sea serpent?"
He glanced toward the darkness.
"Stormhorns are dangerous. Sea serpents are why ships extinguish their lanterns."
"They eat ships?"
"If a ship gives them reason to investigate." He closed his eyes again. "To creatures like that, we are flies. Stay dark, quiet, and unnoticed, and they usually ignore us."
"Usually?"
"Usually."
Lily stepped away from the railing and sat beside Robin. He kept one arm around her, drawing her close against his side as she wrapped Art's cloak more tightly around herself.
The sea remained beautiful.
It was also apparently filled with lightning sharks and living mountains capable of swallowing entire ships.
"I want land now," Lily announced.
The fat brother moved closer and patted her head.
"We'll be there soon, little one. Do not fret."
For the rest of the night, Lily listened to the waves and imagined enormous claws scraping along the hull.
This world was not merely dangerous because of bandits, wolves, and armed men. It contained monsters that hunted other monsters—and ancient things beneath the sea that even experienced sailors feared to disturb.
Perhaps Art could defeat a Stormhorn under the right circumstances.
The sea serpent was different.
That was not an opponent.
It was a natural disaster with teeth.
By dawn, the monsters of Uther's Crossing had vanished beneath the waves.
Tiefland had not.
Its coastline stretched across the horizon beneath the morning sun, flat and green beyond a dense forest of masts. Early medieval type windmills turned slowly above distant fields, while towers, walls, and tiled rooftops rose around the mouth of a broad river.
As the merchant cog drew closer, sailors began calling preparations across the deck.
"Haaienmond ahead!"
The name passed from sailor to sailor as ropes were gathered and the sails adjusted.
Lily repeated it quietly.
"Haaienmond."
The city grew larger with every passing moment.
Most of the vessels surrounding them carried ordinary pale sails without decoration. Fishing boats moved close to shore, while river barges and broad merchant cogs passed steadily between the sea and the inland waterways.
Among them sailed wealthier ships with colored canvas and painted emblems: golden keys, silver towers, red lions, green crowns, ships, coins, and unfamiliar creatures.
The most common marked vessels carried black sails displaying the city's sigil—a white shark rising from dark waves beneath a golden bolt of lightning.
The same shark flew from the towers guarding the harbor entrance. Vast black banners hung from either side of the stone gatehouses, snapping above rows of armored guards watching the water.
Three broad-bellied transport ships waited near one of the military quays. Their sails were pale, but each bore the image of a great red crab.
Lines of armed men filed aboard them beneath shouted commands. Spearmen crossed the boarding ramps first, followed by archers, shield-bearing infantry, horses, carts, barrels, and enough supplies to support a small army.
Behind the soldiers came rougher-looking men carrying heavy packs. Iron collars circled their necks, and chains joined them in groups.
"Slaves go fight too?" Lily asked.
The fat brother glanced toward the transports.
"Some do. Those ones may be porters, camp workers, or soldiers bought by a mercenary company."
"They allowed weapons?"
"If their owners trust them—or if someone stands behind them with another weapon."
Lily watched until the crowded transports disappeared behind warehouses.
As their cog entered the harbor proper, Haaienmond became less like a distant city and more like an entire world built around trade.
Primitive medieval cranes swung above the quays. Porters carried sacks of grain and salt from ships into tall warehouses, while carts waited to receive iron, timber, pottery, wine, fish, cloth, spices, and countless other goods.
Clerks shouted numbers. Merchants argued over damaged cargo. Sailors cursed in languages Lily had never heard.
The harbor itself resembled an enormous marketplace meant to catch travelers before they could enter or leave the city.
An open forge burned beside an armor shop, its wooden sign displaying a breastplate and helmet. Hammers rang as blacksmiths repaired mail, riveted plates, and reshaped metal damaged during long journeys.
Another workshop bore the image of crossed swords. Spears, axes, bows, knives, and shields hung outside beneath the watch of several armed apprentices.
Nearby stood cloth merchants, leatherworkers, food stalls, money changers, and chandlers selling rope, wax, lamp oil, tools, and ship supplies. Smoke rose from grills where fish, sausages, onions, and flatbread cooked over charcoal.
She even spotted a grand inn perched upon a raised stone terrace overlooking the harbor. Wealthy merchants lounged beneath shaded balconies, drinking wine while servants brought their breakfast. From there, they could watch their ships arrive and their cargo unload without ever setting foot in the mud.
Lily stared at it all in wonder.
Then Lily noticed the slave warehouse.
It stood near the military quays, marked by a painted sign showing two hands bound together by a length of chain. Wooden pens and iron-barred cages crowded the yard outside.
Men, women, and children waited within them.
Some wore simple collars. Others had chains fastened around their wrists or ankles. In front of the building, a slaver paced along a line of captives with a whip in hand, cracking it against the stones whenever someone failed to stand straight.
Nearby, two wealthy-looking men inspected the prisoners beneath the watch of their armed bodyguards. They spoke briefly with the slaver, studying each captive with cold, calculating interest before pointing toward several of the stronger men.
The chosen men were pulled from the line.
Some were marched toward the armorers and weaponsmiths. Others were led toward the crab-marked transports waiting farther along the quay.
Lily watched with growing alarm.
"What happens them?"
The fat brother followed her gaze.
"Depends who bought them. Those heading for the ships will likely serve as porters, camp laborers, or soldiers in some rich man's war."
"And others?"
He nodded toward the men being inspected outside the weaponsmith.
"Fighting pits, most likely. Their new owners will feed them, train them, arm them, then place them in the arena."
"They fight until die?"
"Usually not." The fat brother scratched his chin. "A dead fighter is a poor investment. A man who dies in his first match earns his owner nothing but a moment's excitement. He gains no experience, builds no reputation, and gives the crowds no reason to return."
Lily continued staring at the men.
"So they not kill?"
"They can die. Accidents happen, and some matches are fought to the death. But most pits have rules. A fighter may yield. A judge may stop the match when one man can no longer defend himself. If the crowd demands mercy, the loser might be spared."
"Why?"
"Profit." He shrugged. "No merchant wants to spend coin buying a slave, training him, feeding him, and fitting him with armor only to watch him die before anyone has learned his name. A skilled fighter becomes more valuable with every victory. People wager on him. Crowds pay to see him. Eventually, he might earn enough to purchase his freedom—or become famous enough that his owner grants it."
Lily's expression tightened.
"Still slave."
"Aye."
"Why choose fighting?"
"Because the other choices are often worse. Mines consume men slowly. Quarries break their backs. Hard labor ruins the body without offering much chance of escape." He nodded toward the weaponsmith. "A fighter is fed well enough to remain strong. He receives training, learns to defend himself, and has a chance—however small—to turn his suffering into freedom."
"That not good chance."
"No," the fat brother agreed. "But for men standing in those cages, a poor chance may be the only chance they have."
Lily looked past the men toward the women and children still crowded inside the pens.
"What about them?"
The fat brother followed her gaze and gave a short, humorless laugh.
"The women? Kitchens, laundries, houses—whatever their buyers require." His smile widened as he noticed several prettier women among them. "Those ones will probably be sold to brothels. Lie back, keep men happy, and earn coin for their masters. Easier than breaking stone in a mine, if you ask me."
Lily went pale.
"And children?"
"Raised into whatever work they're worth."
He said it as casually as if discussing livestock.
The fat brother patted Lily's head.
"See? You haven't done badly. You cook, sing, and keep us comfortable. No mines, no fighting pits, no strangers in brothels deciding what to do with you."
Lily pulled slightly away from his hand.
"That supposed make me feel better?"
"Aye."
"It not."
He chuckled.
"You think this is cruel? Farther south, some masters turn boys into eunuchs so they cannot cause trouble around the women. Others mutilate slave women when they decide children would interfere with their work." He shrugged. "Compared with that, little flower, we treat you kindly."
Lily's stomach twisted.
Robin stood on her other side, more interested in the fighting pits than anything the fat brother had said.
"I reckon I could become a champion," he declared. "With a sword, I mean. I could survive the arena."
The fat brother glanced him over.
"You are tall for your age. Strong enough too." He nodded toward the harbor. "We can sell you to one now, if you like. See whether you survive your first match."
Robin's confidence collapsed.
"I did not mean now. I meant after training. Proper training. Give me a sword and a few months, then perhaps—if I had to."
The fat brother burst out laughing.
"Peace, boy. We promised the little missy we would spare you." He slapped Robin heavily upon the shoulder. "You are with us now. One of the Brotherhood of Kane."
Robin released a quiet breath of relief.
Lily remained between them, dizzy and sick.
Before her stood the first great medieval city she had ever seen in either of her lives—a magnificent place of towers, banners, ships, music, and stone.
Yet beneath all that beauty, people were being priced, purchased, and divided according to how profitably their bodies could be used.
Haaienmond had looked wondrous from the sea.
Before Lily had even stepped ashore, it had shown her the cruelty hidden beneath its shining walls.