“You’ve had a lot of jobs, then?”

  “Ah, twenty or so. The bricker weren’t fair with me. Wasn’t him who I bricked into a room with no doors; ’twas myself I did it to. Is that fair they’d let a feller go for that? It weren’t bad bricking, neither. It took ’em four hours to break me out, and all I had to eat was one single half-apple what I kept in my pipe pocket.”

  “You’ve had an interesting life, it seems.”

  “I’ve give it a whirl,” Jimmi said with a kick of the barrel. He listened closely after the kick, like he expected the barrel might protest, then nodded and winked at Fleck.

  Massie appeared, saluted Fleck, then climbed aboard Lillie.

  “What are you?” Jimmi asked, his face hinting at betrayal. “I thought you wasn’t a lord? How’s come Jack Quick there gave you the hand-head wavy?”

  “I’m captain of Black Star Company,” Fleck said. “We’re hoping to found a coal mine across the water.”

  “Oh, a captain,” Jimmi said, dragging out his pipe again. “But not a major one.”

  “No,” Fleck said, smiling. “Quite the opposite. You do have uncommon sense, Jimmi Docker, and perhaps not all in the bad way.”

  “Believe what ya like,” Jimmi said; then he stuffed the pipe between his teeth and grabbed onto the nearest barrel, hoisting it up to the waiting deckhands above. “My break’s over, Minor Captain.”

  Fleck looked across the docks to where Vanguard was being loaded. He smiled to see the rabbits, dockers and sailors and many more, working cheerfully in a common cause. Then his eye fell on the command deck where Captain Grimble, his face bent in a menacing frown, whispered with his father, Lord Grimble.

  Chapter Nine

  Fleck was arguing with the provisioner when the king, Queen Lillie, and Prince Lander came to the shore. The argument got quieter, and more civil. In fact, all across the docks and on board the ships, the loud shouts and constant chatter died down as the king approached and rabbits suddenly all looked sharp. That is, all except Jimmi Docker, who burst into an exuberant, unintelligible song. He was singing with his pipe in his mouth as he worked. Fleck shook his head as his argument with the provisioner continued in low tones.

  The king had an argument of his own to deal with.

  “I’m sorry, Lander,” Whitson said. “You can’t come with us on this trip. I’ve told you, it’s too dangerous.”

  “But I’m not afraid to fight beside you, Father,” he said. “We aren’t afraid, are we, Father?”

  “You brave ones may not be,” Queen Lillie said, “but I am afraid for you. You will stay here, son.”

  King Whitson nodded and bent to take his son’s head in his hands. “Lander, I’m not sorry to tell you that I am afraid. I’m glad that I am. That tells me I need to be brave. I have been afraid so many times, my son. I will try to bring you out on the lake soon. For now, protect our home and obey your mother.”

  “Yes, sir,” Prince Lander said, disappearing behind his mother’s dress, tears in his eyes.

  They said their goodbyes, and the three ships set out. All three had veteran crews, led by capable rabbits. Black Star Company joined the crew of Lillie.

  “I see you have left your complement of rabbits at nine, Blackstar,” King Whitson said, standing alongside the helm on the command deck. “I told you that you could take another buck to make ten.”

  “With respect, Your Majesty,” Fleck said, touching his knuckle to his forehead as he bowed, “we already have ten.”

  “Of course,” Whitson said. “I understand. I hope he’s still alive as well. I pray we find what we long for this time.”

  “Whatever it was that made that screaming noise,” Captain Vance said, “cannot possibly contend with so many soldiers.”

  “I hope you’re right, Captain,” Fleck said. “But I still say that vigilance is our clear duty. We can easily underestimate what we cannot easily understand.”

  “‘Mysteries are only perils in disguise,’” King Whitson said, “or so said King Gerrard.”

  “Wisely,” Fleck said.

  “I expect good things,” Captain Vance said. Fleck said nothing. He looked to the distant mountains with a steady gaze.

  * * *

  Captain Vance turned out to be right about this voyage. They made the far shore without incident, marched with a large band of soldiers to the dig site, and began their work. Captain Vance’s soldiers guarded the perimeter in shifts while Fleck, Galt, and Burnley got the work underway around the site of Galt’s discovery. It appeared to be a rich seam of coal. It wasn’t long before they found a rhythm and all were occupied—the miners with their dig and the soldiers with their watch.

  “We’ll dig a bit more,” Fleck told Captain Vance, “then we may lay our barrel of blastpowder and let it open up the site a bit.”

  “That will make quite a racket, will it not?” Vance asked.

  “It will. Please go over this procedure with your soldiers, in case we do. When the blastpowder is laid ready, everyone is required to be at a safe distance, of course. But we still have protocols. When the fire is lit, the one who lights runs back, shouting, ‘Burnout! Burnout!’ If that shout is given, everyone must understand that it’s time to flee and take cover.”

  “Understood, Captain Blackstar,” Captain Vance said, and he walked off to relay this information to his lieutenants and soldiers. Fleck returned to the dig.

  After an hour, Fleck and Massie finished a shift and were relieved by Galt and Kay Jack.

  “I’m going for him,” Fleck said to Galt.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Fleck,” Galt answered.

  “I know you don’t,” Fleck said. “Do what you do best and dig that coal, while I go hunt for Gavin.”

  “How many soldiers are you taking?”

  “Just Massie,” he said, and Massie came to his side, sword buckled on and bow slung over his back along with a quiver full of arrows.

  “Fleck, really,” Galt began, but Fleck cut him off.

  “I leave the dig in your capable hands, Lieutenant Galt,” he said. “Burnley will assist you, and Captain Vance is here as well. I’ll return no later than an hour before sundown. If we aren’t back then, please follow the plan and return to the ship. Assume we are staying on this side for the night.”

  “Fleck, don’t do this—”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Fleck said. He motioned to Massie, nodded to Captain Vance, and hurried into the woods.

  They passed the last sentinels in silence, Fleck cutting his way through tangled brush as Massie followed close behind. After an hour of walking, they reached a level wooded area, with thick moss and low limbs. Sunshine poured through the trees, illuminating a smooth dale beside a brook. Fleck halted and bent to refill his waterskin. Massie did the same.

  “Did you hear anything?” Fleck asked, getting to his feet again.

  “Nothing, sir. Not a single snap of the farthest, faintest twig.”

  “Nor I, Massie.”

  They walked on in silence, woe pooling around their hearts as if dammed.

  Chapter Ten

  The sun was low when Fleck and Massie returned to camp, weary and dejected. There was no sign of Gavin.

  “I’m sorry,” Captain Vance said. “It always was a long shot. At least now you can move on.”

  Fleck said nothing. Frowning wearily, he crossed to the dig site and checked on the progress, getting a flat explanation from Galt.

  “Burnley,” Fleck said, “please oversee the dig for another hour and then settle the camp for the night. Lieutenant Galt and Captain Vance will accompany me to meet the king on the shore. We’ll most likely sail with him to Seddleton tonight and return in the morning with fresh supplies. Remember your training,” he said, looking over his company. He glanced out at the thick forest, and his face fell. He whispered, “And take care of one another.” Massie sat beneath a tree with his head down. No one bothered him.

  Captain Vance nodded to his own lieutenant, Joyner, to follow him as another took charge of the soldiers left on site. Ten more soldiers followed the captains and their first lieutenants back toward the shore.

  “Will the king come to the camp?” Joyner asked.

  “I hope not,” Captain Vance said. “He may well opt to resupply since we have an established site in the works.”

  “It’s good we’ll have coal,” Galt said, looking at Fleck.

  Fleck nodded, his mouth a tight, thin slit.

  In a little while they made the shore and found soldiers guarding the beach. King Whitson received them on his flagship’s command deck with a meal. They ate and drank together as Lillie, with Natalia at her side, carried them home.

  “I’m very sorry the search failed,” King Whitson said as Fleck picked at his food. “But it’s awfully good news that the mine appears to be operational. It will do so much for our comfort and safety. And it will help calm a few political squalls. Congratulations are in order.” He raised his glass and saluted Fleck.

  Fleck nodded. He said, “Thank you for believing in this mission, Your Majesty.” But he sounded exhausted and deeply sad.

  “Blackstar,” King Whitson said, “I know it’s not easy to lose rabbits. I do. As you well know, we’ve lost many on this journey. I have felt every loss keenly, as though I lost a part of my own soul. It will never grow easy, but it’s necessary to know when to move on.”

  “I understand, sir,” Fleck said. “I will attend to the mine.”

  “I am ever so sorry, Captain.”

  Fleck nodded thanks and looked away, wiping his eyes.

  Lillie rose and fell in a gentle rhythm as they finished their meal. They drank to the king and to the new world they hoped to create in Natalia. The blue sky deepened to purple, then black. Stars appeared, and night fell.

  After supper, Fleck wandered the ship, staring into the darkness toward the high, bleak mountains beyond their fledgling mine. The ship’s hands gave him a wide berth. He could see thin slivers of orange light through the woods in the foothills. Soon, he thought, those fires will spread to Seddleton and fuel its boundless progress. It ought to have made him happy, but the echoing memory of those terrible screeches made him restless, and Gavin’s loss filled his heart with woe.

  “Blackstar,” King Whitson said, approaching with slow consideration. “May I join you?” Fleck bowed, and the king came to stand beside him. Fleck noticed the king was wearing his crown, something he rarely did. It was a lovely crown, and it glowed golden in the moonlight. The peaks were tips of forged fire, and the embers along the base were all of orange and red. It was a crown of frozen flames, glorious and beautiful. Fleck had never seen it this close.

  They stood silently as the breeze carried Lillie along at a leisurely pace. They stared into the lake and past it, to the fading lights of the camp and the mountains beyond. King Whitson finally spoke. “What will you name it?”

  “The mine, Your Majesty?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d like to be sure it’s secure before naming it, sir. It feels unlucky to name it just yet. Like we’d be inviting trouble.”

  “There’s such a thing as too much caution,” Whitson said.

  Fleck sighed.

  The king went on. “Let’s look at it another way. If you had a small mining settlement, one that became a town, what would you name it?”

  “It’s not for me to name, sir. I’d be happy to call it whatever you like,” Fleck said.

  “I’d like it if you named it.”

  “Perhaps after my father, then?”

  “Jonston?” King Whitson said. “It’s a good name.”

  “Perhaps,” Fleck said. His sadness only grew.

  “It’s a deep thing, fathers and sons,” Whitson said, tossing a thick splinter into the lake.

  “It is.”

  King Whitson looked back at Seddleton, then at Fleck. “I want to tell you something, Captain. Something few others know.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “As you know,” King Whitson began, “my father perished in the last stand on Golden Coast, fighting beside the old king—the same hallowed place your own father fell as a hero.”

  Fleck nodded, looking out over the water again.

  “You know the king had no heir and that he appointed me to lead our people. In his last council with me, he gave me the Ruling Stone.” He fished in his shirt and brought out the dazzling ruby attached to a gold chain. “He also gave me a trunk filled with many other treasures. It included this crown, which, for some time, kings only wore on very special occasions. Other things he gave me, holy things.” The king looked from side to side. His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “Did you ever wonder what happened to the Stone Book of Fay and to Flint’s sword?” He shook his head and went on. “But I haven’t come to speak of those things. I came to tell you of the crown. The king told me of the crown’s origin, of an old tradition he had hoped to reintroduce but was unable to when his only son died. The tradition was the selection of the heir and bestowment of the Green Ember.”

  Fleck straightened, studying the king’s eyes and the crown above them. Both were alive with light. The king went on.

  “The Green Ember is the large center stone of this crown,” he said, pointing to an empty indention in the crown’s wrought gold. “Well, it’s usually there. In the old tradition, a king made succession clear by passing the emerald to his heir. The prince kept it as a down payment of his future inheritance and a sacred stewardship to guard while he awaited the day of his own rule. So, if the crown of flames falls . . .” King Whitson paused, scanning the lights of Seddleton.

  “The Green Ember rises,” Fleck finished.

  “Yes,” King Whitson said. “You understand me. I am afraid to speak too openly of these things, but I need my best rabbits to know in case the worst ever happens. I need my captains to be sure of their duty.”

  Fleck knelt slowly, his eyes on the king. He touched the king’s feet tenderly. “My lord, I would be honored to trade my life for yours. I would gladly die to preserve the queen’s life or Prince Lander’s. I will be loyal to the end.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Dawn broke. After a fitful night’s sleep ashore, Fleck made his way to the docks. He saw Jimmi Docker, along with several others, as they loaded the last of the supplies onto Lillie and Natalia. Jimmi noticed him and came shuffling over.

  “Mornin’, Cap’n Lefty,” Jimmi said, touching his unlit pipe to his forehead in salute.

  “Good morning, Jimmi. How’s the loading been?”

  “All completely good, except for the bad parts,” he said, plunging his pipe into his pants pocket.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, there was the small matter of a fire—”

  “A fire?” Fleck said, his eyes growing wide. “The blastpowder!”

  “It weren’t aboard ships, your honor,” Jimmi said, putting up his hands. “It were over in them trees. A very small fire indeed.”

  Fleck sighed. “I’m awake now,” he said, shaking his head. “You scared me half to death.”

  “Beg your pardon, Cap,” Jimmi said, looking into his empty hand as if it were missing something. He looked up, disappointed. “This was dark and early, and there was just a few of us here. We all went over and put it out quick-like.”

  “Good,” Fleck said. “I think I’ll have a look.”

  “Have a peek, if you like. It’s just some leaves burnt and a bit of paper.”

  Fleck did investigate, but he found it just as Jimmi had said.

  “The barrels haven’t been whispering to you again, have they?” Fleck asked, walking back onto the dock beside Lillie.

  “I think they must have caught cold,” Jimmi said, taking his pipe out of his mouth and smiling wide. “I heard one sneeze.”

  “We shall have to send Doctor Grimes down immediately,” Fleck said, smiling. “We need healthy barrels.” He nodded to Jimmi and boarded Lillie. Galt was there, leaning against the rail.

  “Sleep okay?” Galt asked. Fleck shook his head. “Me either,” Galt said, blocking a yawn with his hand.

  “We have work,” Fleck said, nodding to Natalia. Galt seemed almost ready to say something, but after a moment’s hesitation he nodded and moved toward the dock as Fleck went below.

  * * *

  Fleck checked Lillie’s cargo against his manifest. Both Lillie and Natalia had been resupplied during the night, and he wanted to be sure they had all they would need that day. Jimmi and the other dockers were hard workers, but Fleck felt the need to double-check them. He noted thirty-seven barrels of blastpowder, twenty-five pickaxes and as many shovels, eight wheelbarrows, and several casks of water, ale, foodstuffs, and other equipment. He noted the nails and other supplies necessary for building permanent structures at the camp. This is really happening. If not for losing Gavin, I would be very happy. He had seen all this material on shore the night before, so he didn’t examine everything closely. He was due to meet the king.

  Galt returned and handed him the approved manifest from Natalia’s hold. Fleck nodded and handed him the one he had worked on.

  “I’m supposed to meet the king,” he said.

  “I’ll finish this up,” Galt said.

  Fleck almost said something to thaw the cold relationship between himself and Galt. But he didn’t. Galt nodded and went to work while Fleck climbed the ladder and went above deck.

  “Good morning, Blackstar,” King Whitson said as Fleck emerged. “It’s a lovely day to sail, is it not?”

  “Aren’t they all?” Fleck said, a small smile appearing.

  “Indeed,” Whitson said. “But this wind! Marvelous. Clear away, and raise anchor!” he called. “Make all sail. Let’s get back to our bucks across the water.”

 

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