Setting Sail (Part Two)

The voyage had been peaceful enough. They encountered several bands of pirates along the way, but the Fifth Fleet now had twenty ships and was riding high on morale. That was enough to scare the pirates off. Pirates weren't fools; they knew which ships were worth robbing and which would bring them nothing but trouble. Plenty of eyes followed the fleet, but no one dared approach.

"We should be there soon, right?" Romon lay on his bunk with his hands behind his head. As the ship rocked gently, his thoughts drifted far away.

Since the Fifth Fleet had set sail, they had passed quite a few ports. Now they were drawing closer to the Royal Capital. According to the plan, the fleet would stop at its main port so Romon and his attendants could disembark.

The Fifth Fleet would then continue farther inland to pick up refugees. Once Romon had finished his business, he would return to the port and wait for the fleet to collect them on its way back.

Before long, the Fifth Fleet approached the Royal Capital's main port. Its warships were impossible to miss. While they were still dozens of kilometers out, a squadron of warships sailed toward them. A flag bearing the Royal Capital's emblem flew from the lead ship's mast.

The other side must have recognized the Fifth Fleet's insignia. They ordered the ships to halt but did not attack.

Soon, one of their warships drew closer, while the rest held position and watched.

"Which fleet are you from?"

As soon as the ship came within range, someone aboard shouted the question.

There were no megaphones in this age; a man had only his voice. The speaker was short and ordinary-looking, but he had powerful lungs. His clear, ringing voice carried across the water.