“Hayeel, you have been silent long enough.” Hal said, gently.

  “What is there to say, highness?”

  “You could share your thoughts with Esme.”

  “She cannot help sharing them.”

  “That do be part of the problem, do it be not?”

  Hayeel sighed, “Yes, it do be.” she said, with a small smile at her use of the marshland dialect.

  “So, pretend that Esme isn't giving me hints. and talk, because while I hear her thoughts I don't get yours.”

  “This is where I always stood.”

  “It's a good place for a son or a daughter to stand. Very few people ever need to run here on a ship.”

  “Too many memories, highness. I have too many happy memories of being a child, and too many sad memories of being an adult, and I wrote too unreservedly to Crown Prince Salay. He wrote that there were things that could be said but could not be written, and I, in my stupid excitedness, I wrote them. I should not look forward to his coming, I should fear my arrest or execution.”

  “You think he will reject you.”

  “Why shouldn't he?”

  “Urm, doesn't the prophecy instructs him not to?” Hal asked.

  “Perhaps it doesn't mean me. I only know a few of the tests. I don't really qualify for some of them. I'm not noble, after all.”

  “I have met several ambassadors in my life, Lady Ambassador Hayeel. Wallowing in regret and self-pity is not a trait they are normally prone to.

  “I stand rebuked,” she said sadly.

  “But you know your duty. You are to think and speak well of your crown prince, to gather information and pray for him.”

  “Pray for him?”

  “You have sailed before, Lady Ambassador. You said that in your letter you suggested that if he was really desperate to meet you, he could come before winter. A six week journey, heading towards winter weather which we hope will not meet him with its full force, but he might be more seasick than princess Isthana. Try to focus on other people, and I'd have thought praying for the poor man would be a good start. If he thinks you match the prophecy then I expect his parents will urge caution, caution, you'll see her in spring so what's the rush, and he'll have your picture in front of him and your letter where you're openly thinking of being his willing wife even before you've seen if he has an irritating limp or a stutter or some other flaw that might make him incredibly shy, and is heart will urge him to come windward in a rowing boat if need be. I mean, look at Yalisa, coming to check up on my little brother. She's been digging away at me to list his flaws, before she'll even say more than 'we'll see' and she's studiously ignored any chances she had to let him know she was going to want to see his seamanship in action.

  "Compare and contrast, you heard 'there's a prophecy, you might match' and you were terrified he might not be a believer, and then you hear he is and you're almost planning your wedding invitations.”

  “You mean I'm desperate to marry?”

  “No, you're not,” Hal said, “You've had any number of men quite interested in you, and I'm not just thinking of the ambassador of Tesk. You're not the least bit interested in marriage for marriage sake, Hayeel. Nor are you desperate to marry power, or wealth or position. So, tell me what you're desperate to do.”

  Hayeel sighed thoughtfully. “If I'm the one in the prophecy, then, then it all makes some kind of sense out of my life,” she said. “To know that there's a reason for all the things that have happened to me and those I love.”

  “So accept that, face that, wrestle with God about that if you want to, and pray for prince Salay, because if he's coming to meet you, then he's not going to get any more letters from you for six weeks, and he's seen you at your turbulent best and probably doesn't know what mood you'll be in. If he doesn't he's going to have to wait almost as long for your confession of how much emotion you're pre-loading the relationship with.”

  “That's a very polite way of saying I've been stupid.”

  “That's not what I wanted to say, Hayeel.”

  “No. You want to say sort out my troubles off your bridge.”

  “For a mind reader you're being pretty dense.”

  “No, I'm just avoiding having to say that there are people I didn't know a week ago who love me.”

  “You're not alone, sister-in-faith.” Esme said. “And I don't think that will change whatever happens.”

  “It rather looks like you've kidnapped half the royal family of Caneth, Hal. Interesting way to end a war!” King Val joked from the shore. The Albatross's arrival had been easy to spot, especially since Hal had approached the wrong way around to show off the windward shore.

  “Closer than you think, father. Let me joyfully present Princess Regent and Crown Princess Esmetherelda.”

  “Wearing what looks suspiciously like an engagement sari,” Hal's mother said.

  “It was too windy for the normal fold, your majesty, and yes, father has been planning to unite our two nations since before he suggested marrying me to Hal. And yes, I did hear that in your thoughts. Before it gets much more complicated, let's finish the simple introductions, Hal.”

  “OK, simple introductions first, on the left we have the Honorable Lady Ambassador Hayeel, representative of Crown Prince Salay — don't call him Sally — of Dahel. Lady Hayeel has also has developed the gift of Tesk. Next to her, princess Bethnia of Caneth who'll want to sketch everyone and everything she sees, but it's OK if you're scruffy, she's only going to print and sell the pictures all over the planet if she can. Beside her looking very military do be her husband, General Wirt. We almost brought some other sisters of Esme, but Isthana got sea-sick before we'd even left harbour and begged to return home and Winessa didn't really want to come and miss spending time with her beloved just for a peace conference. Next it gets interesting. Is Sal around, somewhere father?” Hal asked.

  “He's gone blind again,” said a voice from the ship Hal had pulled in behind.

  “Hi Sal! Pay attention, let me introduce to you in particular, princess Yalisa of Tew, and her ladies in waiting. The princess seemed to want to take over from our figure-head whenever things got choppy, and she managed to get exiled from home unless she becomes Esmetherelda's sister-in-law.”

  “Father got a bit cross when I said I didn't mind becoming her sister-in-law, but I wasn't planning to marry Henk, even if he did become king,” Yalisa explained. “Since I accidentally left some books there I'm quite partial to, and I heard you liked sailing, I was wondering what you thought about exploring possibilities.”

  “What sort of possibilities?” Sal asked, confused.

  “Careful son,” Val said, looking at the princess, “First impressions count.”

  Esme stepped in, and said “While Sal is working out his poetic lines in praise of Yalisa's beauty and love of getting sea-spray in her hair, I'll add that Henk is probably going to be missing his head by the time we're back. I certainly signed the death warrant on two counts of treason — interference with the succession by having me kidnapped and posting mercenaries in the palace — and told the grand-vizier that I didn't see any point to delay the execution once he'd decided he didn't need him for his investigations into his other acts of treason. Therefore, Sal, Yalisa needs to work out if she's going to try to appease her father by becoming some kind of indirect sister-in-law to me. Though she might like to try a night-raid on the castle too, just for fun. My mother's from Tesk, didn't you know?”

  “I must have missed that.” Sal said. Then he focussed his gaze fully on Yalisa. “Seriously?” he asked.

  “Which bit, the night raid, the love of the sea, the screaming argument with Dad including flying crockery, or me seeing if I can escape his idea of matchmaking? Thinking about the night raid might be fun, but I doubt doing it would be. Unlike sea-spray, arrows and shot don't normally wash out. Permission to come aboard?” She'd moved to her favourite spot, just behind the bowsprit, and was now within a few feet of Sal.

  “Do you have any Tesk blood?” Sal asked.

  “About an eighth. No sign of me coming down with the gift, if that's what you're worried about.” She offered her hand. He accepted it, and found himself helping her aboard his ship. “But I ought to warn you... my brother had an accident, I don't know if he'll recover.”

  “I'm sorry to hear that.”

  “Don't be. He is very much in father's mould, and would have been in charge of the invasion fleet father was planning to send this way. My marrying Henk was supposed to seal an alliance between Tew and Canneth. In Dad's version, Caneth's fleet and yours would smash each other to driftwood and our navy would pummel anything still afloat. Even with Hal and Esme engaged, Dad might still try. He's got some new designs, longer range, with exploding shot.”

  “Dad, did you hear that?” Sal called.

  “No! What?”

  “Upgrades to Tew's fleet.”

  “That sounds like he wants a war.”

  “That was father's reason for declaring the fake war, your majesty,” Esmetherelda said, “to ensure your fleet was ready for a full scale war of survival. Canneth's military have been compromised, three generals, our defence minister and Henk committing treason; I cannot guarantee that the unit commanders will not join Tew if they attack. Father wants me to negotiate a permanent military alliance, starting at our marriage or before. Tew might suspect it, they certainly ought to know Hal and I do be engaged, that Henk will be tried for treason and we've declared the war with you was a mistake and we've called back the army and navy.”

  “The captain of the Royal Dragon is a peaceloving man, Esme, he told me it might take him a bit longer to get home than normal with the quickly patched sails.”

  “What?” Val asked, sail patching was hardly an impossible task.

  “Father's a land commander, your majesty, and because he trusts his own, he places land generals over the navy. The sails were torn by a storm on the way to Canneth. The captain will, I'm sure, say that he had the choice of delay or doing a proper job of patching, and decided not to delay. Or I would not be surprised to learn that some unknown sailor left the lid off some vital repair gear during the storm and rats got into it or some similar accident.”

  “Allowing that to happen should get the captain cashiered out of the navy, highness.” King Val said.

  “And if my brother dies from his injuries and I become queen, your majesty, he will receive at least an admiral's pension for his services to peace. I don't suppose there has been any news from Tew in the last few days?”

  “Or ships about to head for Dahel?” Hayeel asked, on the spur of the moment.

  “You wish to leave us so soon, Lady ambassador?”

  “Certainly not, your majesty, but ideally I'd like a letter delivered...”

  “The Walrus, father?” Sal suggested.

  “Certainly, certainly!” The king looked around the harbour, and spied the long thin ship with four masts instead of the normal three. “Ahoy, Walrus! Any objection to visiting Wahleet?”

  “Now that do be a better proving trip than Tesk! Aye, majesty! Shall we bring back a dozen carpets?”

  “Don't be daft, you've not got the hold space. Get some spices. There's a letter to be delivered from the lady ambassador here.”

  “Actual purpose for the trip!” the captain yelled back, joyfully, “Excellent, excellent! Hear that lads and lasses? Diplomatic package for Wahleet!” turning back to the king he shouted back, “Casting off now, sire? Or can we tell our loved ones?”

  King Val looked at Hayeel, “Your choice, Lady Ambassador.”

  “Oh! Let them say goodbyes properly! I've got to finish the letter! Tomorrow would be fine, I'm sure.”

  “Lady needs to finish her letter, and I'm sure your crew'll want to say 'bye properly,” the king shouted to the captain, “Give them shore leave 'till dawn.” There was a cheer from the sailors.

  “Interesting vessel,” Esme observed. “Some kind of fast attack ship?”

  “No, not enough cannon. She's a runner, isn't she dad?” Hal asked.

  “She do be indeed, Hal, and she's fast, very fast. Turns quick too.”

  “A runner?” Hayeel asked.

  “The Albatross do be fast enough to out-manouver and sink a typical warship, ambassador, the walrus do be designed to be fast enough to out-manouvre a small fleet intent on sinking her, to get emergency supplies through, or passengers or to be a fast courier ship.”

  “And you've just given us the excuse to try her out on a proper mission. So don't feel you need to thank us, lady Hayeel.” Hal's mother said. “These men love playing with their boats. Some of us women, too.” she added, glancing at Yalisa absent-mindedly running her hands over the polished sides of Sal's ship.

  Sal was noticing, though, and noticing the animated joy with which she was answering his question about the storm that had fired her love of the sea.

  Hayeel heard his mother joyfully decide that she needed to plan for two weddings, not just one.

  “Hal, you seriously came all this way, just to turn back?” Thena asked her son.

  “No mummy. I came all this way to mobilise the fleet to guard Canneth better, kidnap everyone, and drag them back kicking and screaming to witness me getting married, and of course to get dad to agree to that document he keeps 'hmph'ing at, without which the wedding is going to be a bit unconstitutional.”

  “Unconstitutional?” Hal's mother asked, shocked.

  “How can we agree to be united as husband and wife if we're officially at war?”

  “I thought you said it was over?” Thena asked.

  “Of course it is. Esme called all the ships home, goods can travel, etcetera. But dad didn't give me the authority to sign that.”

  “Hagberry!” Esme shouted in delight, as the ambassador came in. “Have you heard Daddy's little secret yet?”

  “Little? I've been gently nudging Hal into marrying my crown princess? What ever happened to keeping ambassadors informed? Why are you giggling, young lady I don't recognise?”

  “Hagberry, allow me to introduce the Lady Hayeel, ambassador from Crown Prince Salay of the empire of Dahel to my royal court. She came as wife to the ambassador, who died and is now ambassador in her own right, as ratified by the seal and scrawled letter that crown prince Salay sent her at great haste. Most of the letter is moaning that her husband kept her ignorant and he can't entrust his instructions to her to paper and how he wishes her dead husband had actually talked to her.”

  “Have you met Yalisa, Ambassador Hagberry?” Hayeel asked, to his spluttered reply.

  “She was just pulling Sal into the harbour when I decided to leave them to it.”

  “Pulling?” Velania, Hal's younger sister asked.

  “Apparently she slipped,” Hagberry said, “I thought it looked like she jumped, but who am I to say.”

  “She's been under a lot of stress lately,” Esme said.

  “She's been under a lot of water lately, too.” Hagberry said. “Sal helped there, I'll add. They seem to be having a whale of a time.”

  “How old is Yalisa?” Velania asked.

  “About Sal's age. Or eight. I'm not sure. Behaviour-wise it looked like eight.”

  “What have you done Hal?” king Val asked.

  “Do you mean that in terms of finding a kindred spirit for Sal, or for myself?”

  “I mean what happened that I end up with this in front of me?”

  “You don't want me to start at the beginning do you, Dad?” Hal asked.

  “I think someone ought to.” Henela, the older of the two sisters said, entering. “And does anyone know why Sal do be swimming around in the harbor with a strange girl? Both fully clothed, I add.”

  “That'd be — possibly crown by now — princess Yalisa of Tew, Henela.” Esme said. “I presume them swimming is some kind of getting to know you thing.”

  “Who was winning?” Hal asked.

  “I don't think it was actually a race.” Henela said.

  “Were they holding hands?” Thena asked.

  “Not that I saw,”

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  “You know,” Hal said, “if they're both dripping wet it's going to be very hard to get their attention with a bucket of water.”

  “Shall I go and call them in the general direction of honourable behaviour?” Hayeel asked.

  “Let's all go,” Thena said. “That way you can all witness me scolding my son for not introducing me to his future wife before he takes her for a swim.”

  “You've never taken me for a swim, Hal,” Esme said.

  “I did let you use my bath,” Hal pointed out.

  “True. Do you think she knows?” Esme asked.

  “That mother's going to hand Sal a sari for her?” Henela asked. “I don't know. It do be an old tradition though.”

  “What do be an old tradition?” Hagberry asked.

  “To pull someone into the harbour do be just play,” Hal said, “But to swim on, do be public joy in one another.”

  “And so I shall hand him a towel to dry her and a sari to wrap her in. And if she doesn't understand, then maybe my haranguing my son for his lack of consideration and unseemly haste will help her understand. And she need not accept the sari, and if she accepts it she need not put it on.”

  “And if she accepts it,” Bethnia interpreted for her husband, “she says she plans to put it on sometime, but it is too soon, and if she puts it on, then she accepts he will be her provider.”

  “You know our traditions, princess?” king Val asked.

  “No, your majesty, but as Esme said, mother was from Tesk. Isthana also has the gift, so now there are six of us to overturn the more stupid laws of Tesk.”

  “I cannot without my prince's permission,” Hayeel said, “But I have written that I hope to do so. I think I must rewrite the letter, though. My writing at sea was not suitable.”

  “It's beautiful calligraphy, Hayeel,” Bethnia protested.

  “No, it's adequate. I'll show you the difference if you like.”

  “Please “.

  My prince, this is my fifth letter to you, which I am now re-writing, the evening of our arrival in Captita; my calligraphy at sea is not good. We got to Captita about four hours ago, in that time I was introduced to his majesty king Val, who with his queen, Thena, came down to the port to meet us. On hearing that I'd like to send this letter, king Val shouted — if that's the correct word for the volume that came from his mouth — almost half-way across the harbor to a newly launched vessel, described by prince Val as 'a runner', a ship intended to get around blockades to deliver messages or vital supplies. The ship had been due to go to Tesk, a journey of about three days. Now they travel to Wahleet, and do so joyfully, because it will prove that their ship is the fastest afloat. It thus may be that you get this fifth letter before my fourth, which was given to a captain I know, due to leave Canneth today.

  I hope that you do get it first, or at least, only a few days after. My friends prince Hal and princess Esmetherelda have helped me understand what has been happening in my emotions, and where I have made mistakes in what I wrote, in what I attributed my feelings to. At one point in letter four I wrote that I was feeling the urges of a woman surrounded my those with children to be married, and to have children of my own. No, actually I'm not. It's not a generic desire to find a suitable husband and father for my children; I'm so used to weighing and rejecting hopeful potential suitors (too immature in his faith, too old, too irritating, too boring, too unstable, too inflexible, yuck, is that food stuck in his beard? What's wrong with his face, is it inheritable? ....) that I barely remember the reasons. The men here are.. optimists, I suppose the word is, and even while looking out to sea beside the two princesses of the Isles I had to turn down two men interested in whether I was a believer and single. I guess that means I am prettier than most, but I don't feel pretty. I don't feel like a delicate flower who wants to be put on on display. And when I rejected them, I wasn't rejecting them thinking if my hope for us is in vain they might be reasonable alternatives. There was nothing in particular that repelled me. I just felt, 'oh, not another one' and said 'Don't waste your time, I'm not interested,' to both of them instantly. What pulls me, then, towards a man I've never seen or met? It's certainly not a desire for security. If it were that, then I'd say, my prince, I like this role I have now, being close to my sister, in a pleasant city, can I keep it? For position? I find that if I try to place myself in the role that I believe 'empress' consists of (please God, may I be totally wrong!), the description that most easily springs to mind is 'mind numbing boredom and frustration'. I like commerce, I like bargaining, I like improvising, I like the sea air, I quite enjoy the simple accomplishment of cleaning, and (you'd never have guessed) I like being totally open with my thoughts and feelings to people I trust. But I do not trust easily. So why do I trust myself to you, honourable prince? Why does marriage to a complete stranger seem like it ought to be the natural direction in my life? Because it's happened before? No, my late husband-in-name was not a stranger. I knew his irritating points and intellectual abilities already.

  But there is a reason, a reason that you telling me I'm not the one will bring tears to my eyes and me to scream my frustration at God, and you telling me I am the one will bring me tears of joy even if you (metaphorically) have food stuck in your beard — I assume you don't have one. The reason is this: if I am the one of prophecy, then all the painful moments in my life start to make sense. I would not have met prince Hal and developed the gift if I had not been ambassador's wife. I could not still be a virgin without the constant mix of joy that I was not being nightly forced to endure the unwelcome lust of a man twice my age who I knew had a violent temper and used prostitutes; combined by the bitterness of thinking that I was married to the only male I'd ever met who seemed to be actively repelled by me. I would not have become a teacher of language and discovered that I enjoy that teaching and explaining role, and nor would he have hated himself had he not killed my father. If I am to be the one of prophesy, then a lot of my past makes sense. It makes the future totally scary, but I think the future being scary is something that I've lived with since father came home bloodied and already feverish. I have not written to you of that awful night, nor my time before it. I will tell you in person, if you wish me to remember that night, but I think it is on my civil service records, in answer to the question 'what is the worst thing that has happened to you.' Let me instead, my prince, tell you of my parents and my childhood. Father, as you know, was a trader, mother a slave. Father met her when he was a young man on his first voyage, and said he fell for her long hair and intelligent eyes. Mother always responded 'nothing to do with these hips and curves, then?' He would always laugh and pull her into a passionate embrace. He told her owner: I am sure this girl will be my wife, please, I beg you, do not let any man touch her, do not sell her to any but me; I will save up and find whatever price you ask for her. And her owner laughed at his foolish bargaining line and said, 'you bargain like a gullible fool, so I will sell her to you at the price you deserve: twice what she should cost. But for such a profit, I will do as you ask. None will touch her, and she shall have no duties but to speak to you when you visit. And father started to save, and visited often. He taught her his language and she taught him hers, And he became so much better at bargaining that her owner accepted him as a partner. And then her owner died of a heart attack. At the reading of the will, Father feared that he might have to try to outbid another for her, but no, she was his, and they joyfully married. Then they discovered that she was not free, and the money that would have been her purchase price went to lawyers trying to find a way that he could free her. Now I know three ways: he could have smuggled her out of Dahel, he could have applied to the court of Canneth, or the Isles for papers that would make her a citizen, or he could have applied to your honourable parents for a special ruling of freedom. None of the lawyers suggested the latter, and he did not know about or dare the first two. Mother was listed as a house slave, and house slaves do not travel. He could not have her re-listed as his personal slave, because a foreigners cannot do that. He could not register his boat as his house. And so on. Mother was stuck at home, without papers, but I was born and when I grew, I could travel with father. And I did. From the time I was six until I was about ten or maybe twelve, I would travel with father on shorter trips on his ship. But then he and mother became worried that I was longer a little girl, and was drawing attention from the sailors, and could not skip school and expect to do well, so they decided I should stay home. When we weren't at school Mother and I ran a small shop, and Taheela would do most of the cooking and cleaning. Taheela was sixteen when father died, and mother was suddenly taken to the slave-pens. It was a bit early for Taheela, but we were penniless. She'd caught the eye of her now-husband, and he'd caught hers, and so she took the initiative. 'Father is dead, mother left her heart-medicine at home, so she will be dead tomorrow or the next day. You like me, I like you, and I need a bedroom for the rest of my life. So does Hayeel, but she'll happily sleep on your floor. I want something softer and warmer. Will you let me sleep beside you in your bed, cry about my loss on your shoulder and rock me to sleep until I'm ready to love you?' Shocked, he asked 'Just move in? What about marriage?' 'A judge will say I am not old enough to marry, but I will happily take an oath to you and from you.' 'When is your birthday?' 'Three months. In three months I can marry you.' 'If you will cook and clean for me, I will sleep on the floor for four months.' And the honourable man did just that, Taheela and I had the bedroom, he slept on the kitchen floor. After two months I was accepted into the civil service, a month after that I said 'my sister with whom I share a bedroom will marry next month.' 'what of her husband's home?' 'We were homeless and he took us in. He is an honourable man and sleeps on the kitchen floor, but there is no other bedroom.' And so I had a bed in the language school, and they had privacy. Then, I shared a tent with my husband-in-name, then the palace called an embassy. Are you surprised that I consider my room there too big? We were not poor before, but father put a lot of money into the cargo, and still had some to pay on the loan for his ship. When my husband-in-name fined him, he fined him the maximum amount: the sale value of his cargo, and the value of his ship. I am sure that you can check on this, perhaps it is in my records. This is why he hated himself: not just because he killed father, but because of the fine, he sent my mother to the slave-pens and so killed her, and he also made me homeless, except for the boldness of my sister and the nobility of her now-husband. All this, because he was angry, fined my father for an illegal shipment which was not illegal when it left port but only because there was a storm which delayed his arrival. My prince, I beg you, ask your honourable parents, is it the intent of the laws to destroy lives so? Was it just that someone did not think things through? Was it thought through and my husband-in-name overstepped his authority? These questions burn in my heart. I did not know my husband-in-name's crimes when I told him of the redeemer, and of grace. I was joyful when he repented after he had been bitten. I imagined that I would nurse him better, and we would take vows in the sight of God together, and be husband and wife together. But then, the day after, no, two days, he told me of his sins, what he had confessed to God. His use of prostitutes — which I knew, how could I not? — his anger, his rage at my father's simple request for reasonable and honourable mercy, and all that followed. I knew that I must forgive, but it was hard. I imagined as I was washing the pus from his wounds that I was washing the pus of sin away too. That helped, and it also helped that I saw God was not going to make me lie with him, as I had dreamed of and prayed for those two days. God does not always answer my prayers, my prince, and I am glad, so glad. In his grace I found the strength to forgive. Now, from the prophecy I find the glimmer of hope and happiness. But hope has let me down before. I will cling to God, even while I weep, if hope is to turn to ashes in my mouth once again. I will trust that God knows best, and that he intends it for good.

  I must write of the journey, and of Captita. Oh Captita! You have seen, I expect, Wahleet port. Compared to Captita port it is tiny. But I will get to that later. First we sailed past Tesk, the closest of the Windward Isles to Canneth. It would have been the natural one to stop at, being half way, but Tesk will not accept prince Hal as a visitor, and Esmetherelda declines to set foot there until that changes, but nevertheless prince Hal chose to pass close enough for us to see it. It has the appearance of somewhere once grand and now faded. Even the academy buildings look unmaintained, there were old pleasure craft in the harbor that looked like they could never put to sea again. No one seems to care. I understand now why Hal calls it 'Poor, rebellious Tesk'. My father's friend (who has delivered or will, God willing, deliver the epic that is letter four) rarely visits. Now I understand that also. It must hurt.

  My prince, as someone with links there, however, I would like to change that... desolation, with your permission, and undo some of the self-harm that Tesk has done to itself through unthinking and rebellious laws. And perhaps seeing if I can scream at the dying church enough to get it to show some signs of life rather than just tradition.

  After passing Tesk on the third day, we once more crossed featureless ocean, yet ended up sighting the isle of Gorma straight ahead on the fourth. There, in the little port on its leeward shore, we let down our anchor and the sailors swapped tales and news long into the night. Gorma is a huge ridge of bare rocks with a small port, and masses of marshland beside it, almost up to the foot of the cliffs. Having seen Gorma, and looked at Hal's map, I see what he means about the Isles protecting Tesk from the weather. The windward side of Gorma is more of a slope, but it is still bare rock except for the occasional stunted bush. If Gorma had been the other way round, those slopes would have been full of life, I'm sure, but with Hal's pointing, I could see the driftwood tossed as high as the slopes above Wahleet by wind and storm. As it is, it defends Tesk's once-rich fields. After Gorma the sea became rougher, and princess Yalisa became a permanent feature at the bow of the boat, thrilling at the wind in her hair and spray on her face. At the end of day five, we came to Yesk with it's marshland and vinyards. Yesk is a bit like Tesk, except it is sheltered by Captita, which can be seen from the top of Yesk, apparently. Certainly it was only half a day's sailing. Again we stopped there, in the port of Yesk and the sailors greeted friends and family, Esme again confirmed the war was over, and we tasted the best Yesk wine, which is said to be the finest anywhere on the planet. I certainly found it a very pleasant drink.

  Then onto Captita, which produces the close-second finest wine. On the way, Hal showed us the shoals where prince Henk shipwrecked his ship, and decided to say he'd been set upon by pirates, triggering the war, and the cove often used by smugglers where prince Henk had overloaded his ship with smuggled wine. The Isle of Captita is the largest of the isles and was once dominated by a volcano, which exploded sideways, towards Dahel. This I can see. The port is where the middle of the volcano was, the port entrance, where the volcano walls vanished, probably throwing stones that landed in Dahel. What is left is a bit like seven eighths of a hoop, with a mountain on one side. The old inside face of the volcano was pushed back, shattered, and that side became the windward edge of the island. Now there is a beach and a vines flourish on the south-facing lower slopes, the city is on the north and leeward slopes of this huge circular bay. Below the city and the vineyards are the wood-stores, the shipyards and the quays. There is more of the island — there are the marshes which provide fish and strange vegetables on the leeward edge, and between the marshes and the city there are trees, sheltered from the wind and the sea by the volcano and the marshes. To the windward face of the island is the volcano, piled up, hard, resolute slabs of granite as big as a house. They get shoved about by the winter storms. Hal says that there have been five attempts to build a light-house on the top of the island. They never survived the first winter. But, he says, that's OK, because any ship out there would not survive a winter storm anyway. What there is instead, is a chamber cut down into the rock, where dry wood is stored, and where a particularly hardy individual or couple lives a month at a time, tending a night-time beacon fire as long as there isn't a storm strong enough to blow it away. Being on beacon duty for a winter month earns the keeper(s) two rights: to be free of all taxes for two years, and (for couples) to name any child born as a result of their time up there after the duty. Two years of no taxes in exchange for having a month-long honeymoon appeals to some newly-weds, and there are apparently quite a few people on the island with names based on the word beacon (e.g. Bean, Becona, Connie), or keeper (Keep, Perkin, Kaprun, Ker). Outside the winter season, the reward is just a single year tax-free, unless there's a serious storm. I was introduced to one young man called Bean, whose mother is called Connie, and whose father is called Ker. Bean is talking to a girl called Becona, and they've agreed that if they do marry, then they'll aim at calling their child Kaprun or Beana. The queen heard that and said if they decide to stay there until they manage to conceive, then she thinks the king will have to give them three years tax-free per extra month and give them some kind of title. The king winced, but grinned his agreement. Being beacon keeper is not an easy or safe job, however. Every few years someone is blown off the cliff by a strong gust. For most that means at most a broken bone, as there are nets, grab-lines and such-like, but some people do die.

  One thing that worries me, highness, worries me seriously, is something that Yalisa said: her father has improved canons that shoot further and more accurately. She thought of diagrams she'd seen with Dahelese writing. It worries me in two senses: does it make war more likely, if the king of Tew thinks that he can sink Caneth and Isles ships without as much risk to his own, and secondly, how did he learn this thing which I assume is secret? It also makes me concerned on another front, which I am too emotional to judge wisely. Perhaps you are also, and should take counsel from your honourable parents? It seems there is a chance of war breaking out as well as an epidemic of romance (Princess Yalisa of Tew and prince Sal of the Isles seem to be getting on very well, and although she has publicly declined a token of his love, declaring she did not know that her swimming in the harbour with him was more than being happy and silly, and accepting it would be premature, she hoped that she would be able to accept it later; both Esmetherelda's unmarried sisters and their probable-future husbands also seem firmly on the road to marriage, all this since Hal met Esme!). So, with war considered likely, should I not be warning you to stay away and stay safe? What a foolish and selfish woman I am that I still want you to come, explain the whole prophecy to me, and tell me what if any part I have in it. Why, my prince, do I assume that if we marry according to the prophecy, we will have a long and deliriously happy future together? Should my life until now not have taught me something? It has taught me to treasure the nice times. Now, is one such, and I treasure it.

  I have just realised that I did not tell you of my own coming to faith. My parents had... almost none. I pray that what they had is sufficient for God to have saved them. I understand that you may find this surprising, if you think that Tesk is a place of strong believers. I myself only recently understood that that has not been the case for a long time now. The Isles are a place of strong faith, still. Canneth is more of a mixture, with many in government having faith, but not all. The present king was not a believer when he married, and while the daughters have now all followed him to faith, his wife and (soon to be executed) son have not. Maybe half of the population only attend church for special events. Tew has fewer believers, and Tesk fewer still. I am told that many buildings built as churches are little more than singing clubs that are a community centre for special occasions. Tesk is a centre of 'independent thought' apparently, by which they seem to mean sinful rebellion wrapped up in fine-sounding words. Having rejected the authority of the king of the Isles, they have also rejected the authority of the king of kings. And if the church in Tesk does not dare to claim the authority of its message that came first to Tesk, how can people believe? Sorry, that is my sermon over. Father grew up attending one of these singing clubs. He learned songs, but I do not know if he ever really understood them, or perhaps he thought their meaning was obvious. Perhaps I misjudge him, but he never explained them to Taheela and me, though he and mother did teach them to us. Maybe it was fear of the law and what happy little girls might prattle about in the wrong place? I don't know.

  But they made no special reference to them or to scripture in their lives as far as I can tell. Except, except, as he was dying, father was reciting the words of some of them. I, in my ignorance, thought that he was simply remembering his home. Maybe he was remembering his God. May it be so, Lord! So, Taheela and I knew many songs of faith. Tesk songs, we called them. And we thought of them as songs to sing to children, and when we were happy. Taheela sang them more than I. I don't know what would have happened to me if I had taught my students in the central zone to sing songs about the Saviour as part of their early language lessons. They weren't children, and the idea never occurred to me. Then, I visited Taheela. She was excited and... changed, not just because she was pregnant, but there was a joy in her that I hadn't seen before. She explained, she'd been singing Tesk songs to her unborn child, and a sailor had come into the shop, a sea captain. To her surprise, he'd immediately joined in the song, though his accent when he spoke was not from Tesk, but the other Isles, those we had been taught had taken away girls with the gift of Tesk to be their wives and also taken away the catalyst, so there were no more with the gift of Tesk on the island now. What stupid half-truths! But he gave to her a different gift — he explained to her and to her husband the meaning of the theological words in her songs, invited them to the ship and gave her also a book of the gospels in Dahelese. She asked if he had another, for me, alone in the faithless civil service. He didn't but he asked around, and so it was they found that half of his crew had been carrying copies in Dahelese, just in case, and Taheela said, 'oh! But my my sister and I learned to read and write in your language too!' And so after that, Taheela and her husband left with new faith and ten Dahelese gospels (for their neighbors), and two in the original. And so it was that I received my copy of the gospels, the meaning of the songs I'd been taught as a child, and a new faith. Once we were out of the central zone, I told my husband that I was a believer, would he object to me reading God's message to his creation each evening? He did not, so I obtained a copy in Dahelese script. I didn't tell him that hidden in my language materials there was a copy of the original, which I read each morning, except when the soldiers said we had to travel a long way that day and so woke us at dawn. He always slept later than I did, so I don't know if he ever knew, even. But that is how I came to faith — Prince Hal of the Isles on a proving trip for his new ship. Now this letter comes to you on the proving trip on the new ship, Walrus. May God watch over the brave men and women that crew her. Yes, men and women. As it is not meant to get into fights but run away from them, the Walrus has a mixed crew.

  Highness, I don't know if I need to say this... but just in case you are as insanely optimistic as me about our meeting. Please, don't be tempted to ask for passage on the Walrus. If there is a war, then it is unlikely that either side will attack a merchant ship carrying the flag of Tesk (if this makes no sense, see letter four when it arrives regarding that crazy idea!), since neutrality is recognised. A new design of courier-ship however, might attract unwanted attention.

  Your ambassador and God's servant, Hayeel.

  ps. My honourable prince, I realise that in my last letters I have, in my excitement quoted exact quotes from my husband-in-name that perhaps may be the very lines you wrote of, saying that they must not be written on paper. I sincerely and humbly beg your forgiveness and mercy if that is the case.

  pps. How can I have forgotten! Shame upon me! My prince, in the hope and expectation that this will reach you and that nothing untoward will happen to the Walrus, I have as your ambassador accepted a gift from princess Bethania of Caneth (you can add her the list of those with the gift of Tesk). She entitles it 'The windward harbours'. As you see, she has brought a miniature engraving and printing set with her. I am amazed, both at her dedication to her craft and her husband's tolerant help. The cabins aboard are not large, after all! It shows the harbour of Canneth city, complete with the cliff behind which the embassy lurks on the left, and the other harbours we passed or stopped at on the way. She has also, sneakily, just sketched me on the back, as I was writing this letter with my hair unbound. I humbly apologise for the immodesty of sending you such, I thought it was some other piece of paper, and I was going to ask her not to publish it. Now she is contrite for breaking taboos she was not aware of, but I assure her what is done by a princess is done and should not be destroyed. Have I not written that I am comfortable with what it implies, after all?