Eallair stood with Lochan gazing out to sea. The strengthening wind was whipping the waves into a frenzy and both men were very glad they had anchored before the storm set in. They looked down as the men were beaching the ships, preparing their hulking forms against the fast approaching storm.

Eallair turned to Lochan, “Have the scouts found anything?”, he asked.

“There seems to be the remains of an old church at the foot of the mountain to the northwest, I guess we should get Father Harndall to have a look when the weather is better”, he replied, “Apart from that there are the ruins of old buildings scattered around the part of the island they’ve explored. I don’t know if they are sturdy but if so we may be able to use them as foundations for new buildings. And if not we can at least use the stone”.

“What happened to this place?”, Eallair mused, “I mean who lived here and where have they all gone? From what you say the island was inhabited by enough people to warrant the building of a church. Do you suppose they had to leave for some reason or perhaps they were killed by some foul plague”.

“I don’t know Eallair”, Lochan answered him, “All I know is that there is about to be a monster of a storm and we should really make sure that everyone is back inside the ships, as soon as they have finished securing them”.

“Yes, of course you’re right”, Eallair agreed. “We can wonder about these things later”.

“And we can explore the island better when the weather is fine again”, Lochan said.

“I know these things too… sometimes I think I just let my thoughts run away with me. That’s why I’m lucky to have you and Madlenka to keep me grounded”.

And he did feel lucky. He had been thrown in the deep end with this king business. He was the third son and had never expected to have to rule. Without Madlenka and Lochan he would surely sink.

They both jumped, startled by a loud thunder clap.

“We had better hurry”, Lochan said.

Father Harndall had been entrusted with the souls of the exiles. He was very young, but the older priests had chosen to remain in the city and do what they could to comfort the survivors. There would be many who would turn to the lord in this time of need. They had agreed that Harndall would accompany the exiles. He may not have been experienced but he was kind and wise for his years, and the people trusted him.

Sister Mella had been the sole survivor of the Mistril Abbey. Faldorn’s troops had rampaged through the building leaving death and suffering in their wake. They had done unspeakable things to the women who lived their days amidst the quiet cloisters and tried make a peaceful existence for themselves. Mella had only been spared by hiding in the crypt below the cathedral. She spent two days down there with the decaying corpses, listening to the screaming, emerging from the dark to find the bodies of her sisters all around her. She had not spoken a word since.

Father Harndall had discovered her, sitting among the bodies flithy from the blood and grime when the brothers from the nearby monastery had looked for survivors. The monastery had been well hidden in the hills and Faldorn’s men had not found them there. After the surrender the massacare had ended and the slavery of their people had begun. Since he had found Mella she had not left his side and the monks had conceded that she go with him into exile.

His heart ached for this poor woman who had seen such terrible things. He wished he could do something but Mella was in a place unreachable to him. As he stood beside her looking out to Mhalwae he could not see her face but her body trembled like a leaf. He started to pray for them, the best form of comfort he could give.

Engin thought that his wife Darina was a very clever woman. He would even use the word sly when describing her but he did not consider it an insult. Back in the city before the invasion they had been struggling to make ends meet and now here they were in the same boat (literally) as lords and ladies. And even the king and queen! Yes Darina had been clever when she suggested they accompany Eallair and his other subjects to Mhalwae. They would all be starting almost from the same place here… yes they would soon have their castles but surely they would come to rely on and know the peasant-folk here which would never have happened back home. He was glad he had married Darina, others thought she was a sharp woman, greedy and a gossiper, but he saw her true worth.

Darina herself had always wanted to be great but now knowing it would never happen for her, her ambitions lay with the children she would have. Surely on a small island such as this her children might be picked to marry into nobility. And she would do everything in her power to make it happen. As she and Engin stood together looking out towards Mhalwae she was perhaps the only one who was not unnerved by the dark form rising out of the raging ocean.

Noah felt that his role in life was to protect his wife Gena. He had felt that from the time when they were young and he had seen how vulnerable she was. Gena had been blind from birth and so she had never seen her husband. But she knew every angular part of his face and the way his muscular body felt. She knew what love felt like, and it felt like him. Noah was so calm and gentle with her, as though she were a deer that would be startled by any rash movement.

He had taken her from her father’s house, her father who had beaten her for her blindness when she spilt the butter or knocked over a chair because she could not see it there. He had cursed her because she was not like her normal brothers and sisters and nothing but a burden on the family. Then one day Noah had come round and introduced himself. She knew of him but they had never met before. She now knew that he had watched her from across the marketplace as she stumbled along many days with baskets of food. He had asked if she would go walking with him and though she did not know him she went because she trusted his gentle voice.

There had been many walks like this until one day she had asked Noah if she could feel his face so she could know its shape. She ran her hand gently over his face feeling the strong brow and broad nose and his mouth and as her hand ran over his cheeks she felt them wet with tears. His hand came up to hold hers and then she felt his lips on hers. Her father had been glad to get rid of her and Noah had sworn to protect her. She could not see Mhalwae in the distance but she could feel it coming closer like a monster rising from the depths below. Her ragged breathing was only calmed by the soft whispering of Noah’s voice in her ear and his warm hands resting on her hips.

Hepsie and Steen were about as happy as anyone could be they reckoned. Well if they had a baby then they would be the happiest. But right now they were as happy as anyone could be without having that baby. And Hepsie did love babies almost as much as she loved Steen. Her old mother had passed down to her the talent for midwifery before she had died, and Hepsie had helped a number of women through difficult childbirths, despite her young age.

So when she heard that the king was leaving she knew she and Steen should go because her talents were going to be sorely needed on the island. Steen was sad to leave his family but he would go where Hepsie would. She was the only thing that mattered to him. He had loved her for as long as he could remember. When they were children he had pulled her long black plaits and rubbed dirt on her face. But she had always managed to get him back, whether it be a slimy frog down the back of his trousers or hay carefully hidden in his porridge. But he had loved her even then and as they grew she had become more lovely, her rosie cheeks and her soft mouth that he so loved to kiss.

Her mother had finally insisted they be married even though Hepsie was young at 16, he was only 18 himself, when she had caught them out in the barn kissing between the bales of hay. So they had been married early before anything untoward had happened. And it still hadn’t but they were very young and he was sure it would not be long before Hepsie was expecting. Now they were standing together looking towards Mhalwae with their hands helds tightly, like frightened children. She looked as worried as he felt so he tickled her till she squeaked and forgot she was scared.

Alexis knew he had, had to marry eventually. His father had been telling him for years. But just because he was married didn’t mean he had to stop his fun did it? Perhaps being on an island with not many women would prove to be somewhat of a problem though, but he thought it better that they come with Eallair than stay behind as the city fell. And he had just married Morven who really was a dear sweet girl and he was sure she would make a lovely wife. He did feel a little the need to protect her from the horrors that lay in the future of their city so he had joined the exiles. Luckily Morven had not been with child yet (although he really was not sure why since he had definitely been enjoying her charms almost nightly) so they had been able to make the journey without much risk.

Morven knew the sort of man she had married and she did not really mind. She was quite fond of him really, he was so silly and charming. She knew that while he payed attention to her now he would probably soon tire and go after other women, although the choices might be quite limited now that they were on an island. She was happy for him to pre-occupy himself with other ladies for she wanted nothing more than to be left alone with her books. Her father had gone against tradition and taught his beloved only daughter to read and write. She did not know what had become of him as he had been travelling to far off lands at the time of the invasion. She did not know whether she would ever see him again.

And Alexis was not a bad man, he never hurt her and he let her have all the books she desired. And she had to admit that she did not find the duties of a wife so dreadful. Really not so dreadful at all.

Now as her eyes sought the small speck on the horizon that was Mhalwae he noticed her furrowed brow and joked with her till her worries melted away.

Sigurd did not know how he would live without his Varda. All his strength and bravery came from her. Surely she was more a man than he was, she always knew what to do and it was she who made all the decisions. Yes, he was a knight and he could fight but he knew that if she were a man she would beat him and every other man he had met. No he really did not know how to be without her. It had been she who had decided they would flee with the king… she was fiercely loyal to the man and would not be left behind. And so they had fled with the rest. Varda had been with child at the time but she had not told anyone but he and had said it would not matter. But she had lost the baby on the long voyage and he had fallen into despair. He wondered at Varda, she would not show her grief to him but he had caught her sometimes looking out over the sea with such an expression it almost tore his heart in two. But she had never said anything nor shed a tear.

Varda knew that the man she had married was weak and she did not love him. But there were times when she felt a great tenderness for him, like that a mother feels for her vulnerable son. She did not regret accompanying her king to Mhalwae even though she had lost her baby. There would be more and she did not think she could live anywhere but with him, whom she held in great respect. He was a true man and she wished she were too so she could fight for him. She knew he needed loyal subjects and she was one of the most though Eallair did not know it. She would have followed her king wherever he went, even to the end of the earth.

And now as she stood next to Sigurd with the wind whipping her long black hair, she felt her husband cringing next to her but she did not turn her gaze from the dark island that lay before them.

Oh how Cordell hated his wife Lisbet. How could it be that he was saddled to that woman for the rest of his life. He could not believe that his father had forced him to marry such a girl. Surely she had the tongue of a serpent. And she looked so ugly when she fought with him which was most of the time. How it made him laugh when she scrunched up her face into an ugly little ball and cursed him. What a harridan she was, and she swore like a sailor. His father, rest his soul had chosen very poorly indeed and now they travelled to Mhalwae together where there was no hope that he would not spend most of his days with her. Curse his poor luck that had sent him to a place like this with Lisbet.

Lisbet was equally unimpressed with Cordell. She had hated him from the first moment her father spoke of him. She had dreamed of true love with a man whom she chose, little suspecting that her father was making deals behind her back. And now she was to be stuck on an island in the middle of nowhere with Cordell, surely things could not go more wrong. At least there had been no children, otherwise they might not have been able to make the long sea voyage and may have been put to death. There would be no children. She would not share her bed with that man. The only time they had even slept in the same room was their wedding night when she had made him sleep on the floor. She had sworn when her father told her she was to be married she would not let him touch her. She would rather be a nun.

She stood next to him now in a brief moment of calm, as they looked out at the island on the dark horizon and without realising leaned a little closer to him.

Garrick’s wife Cindra, the king’s cousin was a handful. Everybody said so. At sixteen she was a lot younger than he, still a girl really and she liked to gossip and tease. Her pranks had gotten her into trouble (and him) on numerous occasions. But by god he loved her. She had stolen his heart so truly with her pouty lower lip and her slightly upturned nose that he loved to kiss the tip of.

Yes, she got him into trouble but she was worth it, he was totally devoted to her. He had been hers from the first moment she walked up to him in Eallair’s castle and tugged his beard telling him he looked like a big red bear. It is true that Cindra chose him too. There was something about such a kind face on such a big strong man. She loved the way he could make her feel so safe by wrapping his strong arms around her tiny waist. And she loved to bury her face in his bushy red mane and kiss the beard that she had once tugged.

She had begged her father to let her marry him. And her father, who could refuse her nothing, had consented to the marriage even though he believed his playful daughter much too young to wed. They had been married a week before the invasion, their happiness cut short by the fall of their city and the death of so many of their loved ones. But Cindra thought she could regain her happiness, as long as she had Garrick.

As they both gazed out on Mhalwae she was glad to have his strong arms around her, because something about the place made her feel like she needed protection.