The weather in the Gray Marsh Fief gradually warmed, and the heavy sea fog dispersed, revealing blue skies unseen for far too long.
The wind blowing from Fang Gorge no longer cut to the bone. It now carried a hint of spring warmth.
Veylin stood on the top-floor terrace of the Lord's Manor, overlooking the port city beginning to take shape.
A few months ago, this place had been nothing but sheer cliffs. Now, the upper three levels were largely complete, and the main framework of the lower two would be finished within two months.
The rock excavated by the Worker Mantises was dumped into the sea, extending a broad breakwater outward and enclosing a larger harbor. Countless artisans and laborers bustled like ants across the construction site, their shouts mingling with the pounding of hammers to compose the overture of a growing city.
Footsteps sounded behind him. Caroline approached and draped a cloak over his shoulders.
The cloak still held the young woman's warmth and scent.
"The sea breeze is still a little chilly. You should take better care of yourself."
Veylin drew the cloak closer and turned to look at her.
"Any news from the merchant guild?"
Caroline nodded.
"The shipping route is open, but it isn't safe." She drew a roll of parchment from her sleeve and handed it to him. "The Bloodsail Brotherhood hasn't been idle."
Veylin unrolled the parchment. It showed a simple nautical chart of the Southern Isles, with most of the islands colored blood-red.
"They move fast," Veylin remarked.
"As fast as a pack of starving wolves." Caroline pointed to several prominently marked islands. "These were the wealthiest settlements in the isles. Now they're all ruined. The Bloodsail Brotherhood has occupied more than eighty percent of the islands, but they produce nothing. All