Naturally, Visyna agreed with Chayii about Private Renwar, but the point was moot as Renwar volunteered for every attack. Konowa was happy to have him along. Konowa had thought Renwar too fragile for soldiering, but the private was proving to be a fierce warrior, charging the beach with exceptional bravery and never once holding back despite his significant impairment.

The boat lurched and one set of oars rowed air for a moment. Konowa stumbled and grabbed hold of the cannon before righting himself. It took a greater effort to keep the contents of his stomach. He stood back up, carefully. The crew was struggling to keep the boat on course as the sea grew choppier.

“Go left, man, more left,” Konowa said, brandishing his saber. The white-enameled hand guard with gold inlay was a bit showy for his tastes, but it had been a gift from his friend Jaal, the Duke of Rakestraw, and Konowa cherished it. It had taken some doing to get a new three-foot-long blade put on it after the first one had broken at Luuguth Jor, but Sergeant Arkhorn had known a dwarf who knew a blacksmith and Konowa had paid twenty silver coins and asked no questions.

“Left. We need to land on the southern tip,” Konowa said.

“You mean larboard, sir,” the boat’s mate said.

Konowa stared at the man.

“Aye, sir, left it is! All right, boyos, you heard the officer, more left!”

Konowa turned back to face the wind, preferring the bite of the salt-tinged air and stinging spray of the water to the looks of the men he was leading. The mix of fear, anger, loathing, and resentment he saw there filled him with feelings he couldn’t afford to indulge in. Chayii, for her part, simply looked sad, which only added to his pain. Something small and furry landed on Konowa’s shoulder.