“My king, your folk have need of you.” The words tumbled from me in desperation. “Neatbay is besieged by Red-Ships. Five of them. We must send aid now, or all is lost. Once they have a toehold there-”
“They could close Buck Harbor.” The King’s eyes opened as he spoke. He did not move from his prone position, but he squeezed his eyes more tightly shut as if clenching them against pain. “Fool. A bit of the red wine. Please.” His voice was soft, scarce more than a breath, but it was the voice of my king. My heart surged as if I were an old dog hearing the voice of a returning master.
“What must we do?” I begged of him.
“Every ship we have, down the coast to them. Not just the warships. Roust out the fishing fleet. We fight for our lives now. How dare they come this close, how came they to such boldness! Send horse overland. On their way tonight, within the hour, I say. They may not get there until day after tomorrow, but send them all the same. Put Keen in charge of it.”
My heart flip-flopped in my chest. “Your Majesty,” I broke in gently. “Keen is dead. Coming back from the mountains, with Burrich. They were attacked by highwaymen.”
The Fool glared at me, and I instantly regretted my interruption. The command faded from King Shrewd”s voice. Uncertainly, he said, “Keen is dead?”
I took a breath. “Yes, Your Majesty. But there is Red. Kerf is also a good man.”
The King took the wine the Fool proffered. He sipped, and seemed to draw strength with it. “Kerf. Give it to Kerf, then.” A shade of the confidence came back. I bit my tongue against saying that what horse we had left was not worth sending. Doubtless the folk of Neatbay would welcome whoever came to reinforce them.