The Chronicle:

How curious it is to travel once again with my cousins and friends!  I am delighted to have their friendship and company, especially my old confidante Melisandre.  Yet I had grown accustomed to being "sole master on board after Theus", and I must learn anew the back-and-forth, give-and-take that makes the difference between companions and crewmen.

We left Freiburg and its treacherous politics behind, the wind filling our sails and the Roth carrying us towards the sea.  I kept my eyes open in forlorn hope for Die Zierlich, but that varlet Dedrick knew better than to sail out until we were well away.  I did not tarry, for my orders required haste, and in addition I did not wish to be trapped if the Roth became locked by ice.

We reached the Trade Sea and began making our cautious west around the Horn of Dechain, alert for Montaigne patrols.  But danger came not from mundane enemies, but arcane ones.  Dark cloud masses gathered on the horizon, striated with bands of coloured lightning.  Lucas and I recognized the sight of a Living Storm, one we had encountered nearly a year before in the same waters.  The storm bank rolled ominously towards us, and I ordered the guns readied.  The sea grew choppy and the winds furious; we had to take in the sails and batten down the hatches.  After a long tense wait, the storm's true might was upon us and began to toss the Maris Stella around like a child's toy.  No mercifully quick attack this time; we were buffetted for three awful days, soaked and battered to a state of utter misery.  A couple of crewmen washed overboard and were lost, and there was hardly anyone, even among the most experienced sailors, who did not become ill at some point.

Then after three days of this punishment, we found ourselves becalmed in the eye of the storm.  There was a rippling of tension in the air, as if the eerie calm could break any moment and reveal Legion's Abyss.  I walked out on deck to inspect the state of Maris Stella.  Then from the utterly still sea ahead of us, I saw something beginning to emerge.  Rising from the prow, a stately man o'war made entirely of water appeared gradually, with perfect billowing sails filled with nonexistent wind.  Her hull glided without leaving a ripple on the surface of the sea, as she advanced towards us.  We could not see a single being on her deck or in her rigging.  In a display of power that reminded me of the Vesten Raiders', she ran past us then tacked effortlessly and came 'round to tower over us in perfect silence.

Then at the taffrail appeared a slim young girl with greenish skin, her long flowing wet hair entangled with seaweed.  Behind her stood a handful of animated corpses, drowned sailors among which I recognized the crewmen we had lost.  The lady looked down upon our deck.

"Hello, Lucas," she said in a sweetly poisonous voice.  "It has been a long time since you visited me."

We stared, but recognition lit Lucas' eyes.  "Oh," he said, like a man who has just found a fly in his soup.  We asked him if he knew this – creature, and he admitted having received a visit from her the last time we had been in Carleon last Julius.

"Soon you will kill my mother for me," she announced in her clear, chilling voice.  "Before another year has passed."

"Your mother?" Lucas repeated.  "You have called her 'our mother' before.  And you have also called yourself my mother.  Which is it?"

But she merely smiled coldly.  "One of your companions has received a prophecy," she said instead.  "I want her."

I was taken aback by this unexpected comment.  "I did," I said before I had time to think.

"Ask her what it contains," the Sidhe said smugly, as if she had caught me doing something wrong.

My companions' eyes turned to me.  "I have mentioned it to Melisandre," I explained, "and I have been waiting for a single quiet evening to tell you the whole story.  I shall tell you all of it when we are safe."

The Sidhe lady's gaze returned to Lucas.  "Hand her over to me," she demanded.  "Throw her overboard."

But Lucas refused categorically and the Sidhe lady tossed her head in anger.  "So be it, then!"  And with this, her ship started to descend rapidly, its substance returning to water.  If we hoped for a reprieved, however, we were to be rapidly disappointed.  The ripples had not yet died down when we heard scraping noises along our hull.  To our horror, we saw ensorcelled drowned sailors climbing along the sides; despite our efforts to repel them, they soon started coming over the taffrails and boarding us.  We fought them with desperation, but how does one kill that which is already dead?  They were dealing us far more damage than we inflicted them.

Then another being climbed on board; he looked first like a man made entirely of water, like the faerie ship a bit earlier.  He climnbed onto the quarterdeck, attacked the foes which were on the verge of overwhelming me and dispatched them as if they were made of straw.  Then he jumped to the main deck and cut through the rest of the undead like a knife through butter.

When the last of the undead sailors was felled, he turned to Lucas and said: "Stay away from Avalon, brother -- stay away from the queen."   Then his substance seemed to take the appearance of air and he just blew away on the wind.

We sailed away as fast as ever we could, then saw to our wounded and dead.  I made sure all those who had fallen received the holy rites.  I told my companions of the Oracle's prophecy, though they were even more mystified by it than I was.  We all swore to stay well clear of the waters surrounding Avalon in the future.
 

As we reached more clement latitudes, of course, the sailing conditions improved as we left ice floes and bitter winds behind.  At last the coast of Castille greeted us with its warm breezes, sunny days, and mild temperatures, highlighting the contrast with haunted Avalon, bitter Vestenmannavnjar, and bleak Eisen.  But though it was indeed our beloved Castille, this too was enemy territory, patrolled by Montaigne ships and filled with Montaigne traders, Montaigne fishermen, and Montaigne smugglers.

We lurked, hunting for a suitable target that would fit the very vague orders I had received.  I had our very real gun ports covered with fake ones clumsily painted on canvas, to simulate the ruse that unarmed merchants often use when they want to appear better defended.  In this case, of course, I wanted to appear more innoffensive!  Since I knew very little about what to expect in La Reina del Mar, I picked as prey the type of vessel I knew best and could handle with the smallest crew: another lugger.  I ambushed a small unarmed sample of the breed and its Montaigne crew put up almost no resistance.

My companions and I transferred to the Antoinette's Promise and I picked a minimal prize crew, then sent my beloved Maris Stella on to Tarago under Telmo's command.  I could not help but wonder what Uncle Enrique had had in mind when he wrote of having her refitted; I could but trust his judgement, but I was worried.  I did not at all like the idea of unspecified modifications being made to my vessel.

We parted company, the Montaigne prisoners to be released in a distant port by the crew of the Maris Stella.  We made our quiet way towards the excellent harbour of La Reina del Mar, and discovered that it was nowhere near as well guarded as the port of Barcino had been.  It was astoundingly easy to slip in under the guise of fishermen, and drop anchor right under the nose of the Montaigne warships.

Still dressed as fishermen (a state of affairs which Lucas bore with stalwart fortitude), we made our way ashore while my prize crew remained on board the captured lugger.  We relied on Ferdinand for street navigation, since this was his home town, and on Mendoza for communications, since he alone among us spoke Montaigne.  Ferdinand took us to his family's home where we met his aging parents: señor Francisco, a former shipwright now too frail to work, and señora Juanita, the most loving mother one could ever wish for.  They were very proud of their son and we were pleased to tell them of some of his exploits.

They were able to inform us on the whereabouts of General Cristian Acedo y Lopez de Torres' hacienda a league or so outside town, so we decided to head there.  Ferdinand promised to come back, and his mother announced that we were all invited to a feast she would organize to celebrate his visit.  We then made our way to General Acedo y Lopez' estate, where we were welcomed with the finest and most generous example of Castillan hospitality.  Don Acedo y Lopez was as fine a gentleman as Castille has ever produced, and his reputation for bravery, gallantry, and sound judgement had spread far.  He was very interested to hear our story and the orders I had received from the Admiralty.  He had rooms prepared for us, and procured more suitable clothes.  

Then we discussed our mission in more detail.  Don Cristian felt that it would be most useful to the war effort if we could severely damage the Montaigne port installations.  He described to us in as much detail as he could the layout of the Montaigne docks and warehouses, and suggested that if we could direct a fireship against these docks, the damage would cripple the local naval forces for several months.  After this impromptu war council, he invited us to dine with him and introduced us to his lovely wife, doña Rosalinda.  The evening was very pleasant.

We slept very well that night, although Ferdinand later insisted he had heard someone prowling on the premises that night, but had been unable to catch the culprit.
 

In the morning, we headed for the city to get another look at the port installations and evaluate the difficulties of the plan.  Ferdinand, of course, had to visit with his family and friends, who by now had heard of his presence in his hometown.  Mendoza suggested that he might make himself useful by getting in touch with some of his shadier contacts, and Melisandre decided to accompany him.  Juan excused himself, explaining that he had business in town of a private nature.  

Lucas also had some business to attend to in town, and invited me to come along, which I took as a mark of trust.  We went to a casona montañesa in a fairly comfortable neighbourhood which must have been quite fashionable before the invasion.  The once-elegant townhouse was somewhat the worse for wear, but still impressive in its graceful architecture.  We were admitted inside, and Lucas exchanged a few words in a low voice with a servant.  Then were taken to a comfortable library, offered some wine, and a gentleman came to greet us.

Lucas excused himself and he and the host left me to wait in the sitting room, while they had a few private words.  After perhaps half an hour, Lucas returned and we left the townhouse.  While we were walking back to meet our friends, Lucas explained that his business necessitated him to get in contact with a certain Don Lorenzo Gallegos y Zepeda de Acedo, and that he hoped Don Cristian might be able to help him find the man.

We walked along the harbour and examined the Montaigne installations.  It seemed to me that if we could find a sufficient quantity of fuel to feed the fireship, directing it against the Montaigne docks would not be so difficult.  The harbour was unobstructed and poorly organized, so that it would be easy enough for a vessel to sail across, from the fishing port to the Montaigne port, without being intercepted in time. 

Once we had completed our examination of the layout of the port, we made our way back to Ferdinand's family home, where we were to meet back with our friends.  Señora Juanita's promise of a feast had been no empty boast.  In a single day, she had assembled enough family, friends, and neighbours to man a good-sized sloop, and gathered an astounding quantity of food to sustain the crowd.  There was wine, sangria and lemonade, music and dancing, and much rejoicing all around.  When Juan returned from his own errands, he joined the musicians with a few tunes of his own.  Melisandre was delighted, and we all danced with barely a pause for the entire afternoon. 

The feast continued well into the evening, although by then we began to slow down.  We found a quiet spot to exchange information, and discussed our plans to damage the Montaigne docks.  Mendoza and Melisandre had obtained some more precise information about the layout of the Montaigne installations and warehouses.  Ferdinand brought his father to talk to us; in hushed tones, señor Francisco gave us his opinion of the most vulnerable points and promised to help us acquire a good quantity of fish oil we could load onto our fireship for fuel.

At last the fiesta wound down.  Friends and relatives started leaving, chattering gaily into the night after embracing Ferdinand one last time.  We took our leave of señor Francisco and señora Juanita with heartfelt thanks, and started walking back towards Don Cristian's hacienda.  As we walked down the darkened streets, we suddenly heard the most horrible screams from somewhere ahead.  Although the voices sounded Montaigne, the screams were so awful that we ran on to help.  But the cries died down before we could find their source in the dark, although a foul stench of charred flesh wafted on the breeze. 

When we finally found what we believed to be the source of the screams, we found half a dozen horribly burned bodies.  From the weapons they had dropped, it looked like they must have been Montaigne city guards.  Melisandre was repelled by the sight and unenthusiastic about examining the bodies, but Juan took a close look and frowned darkly.  He whispered that he believed this to be the result of sorcery.  Perhaps the most disturbing detail in this grisly scene was the half-dozen red roses that someone had dropped near the corpses.  The fresh flowers contrasted starkly with the charred bodies.

In the distance, we heard running footsteps and the cries of more guards, attracted as we had been by the screams.  We decided not to wait to be accused of this attack, and quickly returned to Don Cristian's hospitality.

The next morning, we described the events to Don Cristian.  He frowned and shook his head; in the previous days, he had heard stories of other murders involving fire, but no one knew much as of yet.  The Montaigne authorities remained close-lipped about the murders, although patrols were now being increased.  But other recent crimes had involved not fire, but plain butchery.  According to Don Cristian, the rumors spoke of violent murders in taverns near the port over the last few nights, where every single patron and employee was killed, the establishments were ransacked, and the walls spattered with blood.  Between these various crimes, the Montaigne authorities were confused and edgy.

Lucas also took this opportunity to mention to Don Cristian that he would like to meet Don Lorenzo Zepeda de Acedo, and would be grateful for an introduction if such a thing was possible.  Don Cristian eyed him thoughtfully, and answered that, as a matter of fact, Don Lorenzo was expected this very day.  Lucas thanked him courteously.  We completed this conversation by relating to Don Cristian our progress on the matter of the fireship, and he seemed pleased with our efforts.

After taking our leave, we returned to town to arrange the purchase of fish oil.  Señor Francisco took us to meet some of his contacts in the shipping business and put in a good word for us.  I purchased the oil and agreed to a delivery time the next morning.  We spent most of the rest of the day arranging the details of our attack, reviewing everyone's roles.

Near the waterfront, we saw a group of bystanders surrounding an inn which was being guarded and searched by a Montaigne patrol.  Exchanging a few words with the onlookers, we learned that this had been the site of one of those massacres Don Cristian had mentioned.  Even from where we stood, we could see clouds of flies and the reek reached our nostrils.  The bodies of the victims were described by those who had seen them as dismembered and quartered.

We could see a bit through the wide-open front door of the inn, albeit from across the street.  Ferdinand elbowed his way to get a better view.  He frowned.

"Someone wrote something in blood on the wall," he said.  We asked what it was but he blushed and said he couldn't quite make it out.  We jostled a bit to get a better view too.  I gasped when I was finally able to read the single word scrawled in blood on the wall, a name.

The name was "Constanza."

My companions turned to me with horror.  "Reis," muttered Juan in a low voice.  "It has to be him -- the butchery, the message...  He's looking for you."
 

When we returned to Don Cristian's hacienda that evening, we found that he had a new guest.  We met with a young man of suave manners whom Don Cristian introduced as Don Lorenzo Gallegos y Zepeda de Acedo.  The man was good-looking enough but seemed too well pleased with himself.  He had somehow heard of me and immediately pressed his attentions upon me, which left me disturbed and angry, for he did exude a sort of animal attraction which I found most distasteful.  Fortunately for me, Melisandre soon arrived after changing her attire, and captured Don Lorenzo's attention.  She seemed to enjoy the flirtation most thoroughly.  Don Lorenzo even tried to charm Doña Rosalinda de Lopez, who seemed to regard him like an overeager pup.  Don Cristian merely looked on with ironic detachment, like a man completely sure of his beloved's heart.

But if Don Lorenzo was excessively urbane with women, he was equally haughty and irritating with my cousins.  It seems the reason Lucas had wanted to meet Don Lorenzo was that the man was supposed to entrust a package to him, to be delivered in Tarago.  But when he broached the topic, Don Lorenzo brushed Lucas off in a most cavalier manner, turning back to a smiling Melisandre as if Lucas was an importunate fly.  He off-handedly mentioned that he did not have the package with him, although at Lucas's insistence he finally agreed to get it on the morrow.

Juan also tried to be gracious to Don Cristian's new guest, only to be rebuffed in turn.  Upon learning that Don Lorenzo was also a musician, he offered to play a few songs together.  Don Lorenzo eyed him without interest, and only picked up a guitar to address a song to Melisandre and show up Juan.  My cousin bore this with gritted teeth, then took his turn at playing a dance tune.  But Don Lorenzo acted as if Juan was hired help, snapping his fingers at him when he desired to hear a different tune.  By the end of the evening, Juan, Lucas and I were ready to dunk Don Lorenzo in the first convenient heap of manure we could find.  But Melisandre assured us she found him charming, and she clearly welcomed his attentions.

The next morning,

(To be continued)
 

• Melisandre's dueña Fidencia is missing, although Melisandre assures everyone that everything is all right.
• Don Lorenzo finally consents to help Lucas; the "package" is actually a large and very heavy crate that will have to be discreetly loaded onto their escape vessel.
• Meanwhile, in reaction to the nightly attacks of El Malvado, the Montaigne authorities round up prisoners in the population, as hostages against further attacks.
• Ferdinand's parents end up captured in the sweeps and imprisoned.
• The heroes visit the Montaigne governor of La Reina del Mar, Gaston Sices de Sices, a former supplies officer and now harried and unhappy.  They plead for the release of the prisoners and Ferdinand threatens him bodily.
• The heroes set their plan in motion the next night.  Melisandre and Mendoza go create a distraction by setting fire to a warehouse.  Too late, Mendoza realizes that the warehouse contained ammunitions and powder!  He is sorely hit by the blast, and Melisandre is nowhere is sight.
• Juan and Constanza get on the captured lugger La Promesse d'Antoinette, specially prepared and loaded with fish oil to turn it into a fireship.  They head for the Montaigne frigate at anchor, intending to get off in a rowboat at the last possible minute and return to a fishing boat they bought for their escape from la Reina del Mar.
• Lucas and Ferdinand intend to use the distraction created by Mendoza and Melisandre to go free the prisoners, then with a cart go pick up the crate which they will take to the escape vessel.  However, among the prisoners they find Fidencia, who reveals that the woman they thought was Melisandre is actually an adventuress impersonating their friend!  Melisandre has been captured and is now aboard the Montaigne frigate.  Lucas, caught between his duties to Los Vagos and to his friends, goes to get the crate by himself and sends Ferdinand to Melisandre's rescue.
• The real Melisandre, on the Montaigne frigate, is being interrogated by none other than Jacques Lévesque d'Aur.  Behind him, through a porthole, she sees a fireship loom close...
• Juan and Constanza's fireship hits the frigate!  Soon the ship is engulfed in flames, and a short while later a second explosion rocks the port.  Juan and Constanza, oblivious to Melisandre's peril, row back to the fishing boat and pick up a wounded Mendoza, and Lucas and his crate.  Lucas tells everyone the "Melisandre problem".
• Meanwhile, Ferdinand rushes onto the burning frigate, hacking his way through to look for Melisandre.  The frigate is sinking, and Melisandre manages to escape Jacques Lévesque d'Aur but only to find herself trying to escape drowning as well.  Ferdinand spots her and keeps her afloat long enough for the two to be picked up by their companions, while the Montaigne port installation are burning in the background...
• The same night, the governor's body is found, burned like the other victims of El Malvado.  A rose has been left again.  The heroes start suspecting that Don Lorenzo is El Malvado.  Regardless, they may be blamed for the murder.