A Blinking Red Light

Two hours later, Freyr stood on his airship. His statuesque figure was clad in golden armor and he watched the city fade away into the distance. Despite the medication to prevent motion sickness, he still felt queasy.

Sierra stood next to him and studied his pale complexion. "Feeling all right, Your Majesty?" she inquired. She wished she could roll her eyes because the King had always been terrible on ships.

"I can handle it. Just make sure the Captain understands that I want us flying at full speed for the whole trip." He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. If possible, he avoided traveling on any sort of ship. Unfortunately, he did not trust anyone else on a mission of this magnitude.

The poison that affected Macha was called eitr. It was an exotic toxin from the far north that came from the blood of a jörmungandr. The trip there, at top speed, would take a little over two weeks. Once they got to the area, he would need to use one of the many oxen they brought along to lure the creature out.

The antidote for this poison was created from the same deadly blood used to make the eitr. The only difference between the remedy and the toxin was the collection process. Due to the innately dangerous nature of the blood, most people avoided gathering this material because a single stray drop could kill an ox. It was usually safer to harvest other poisons that could be just as lethal.

Sierra stepped away to talk with the Captain. A little while later, shouting came from the man, who did not appreciate a woman telling him how to fly his ship.

Freyr glanced over and saw the two engaged in a heated debate. He gave a deep sigh and wandered over. His queasiness did not put him in the best of moods, and he wanted to concentrate on not throwing up.

When the Captain spotted the King walking towards them, he turned and pleaded his case. "Your Majesty, this 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 is telling me how to run my ship. She wants me to push my crew too hard. We would only have five hours of sleep per day."

Freyr shut his eyes. For a moment, his stomach lurched. When the unease passed, he opened them back up and stared at the Captain. He nodded his head in sympathy. "Sierra is only passing on my request. I realize what I ask is uncomfortable for you. If my men offer assistance, is it conceivable for the sailors to get six or seven hours of rest?"

He paid their wages, but he also did not see a reason why his people could not aid the airship's crew while they flew. He just wanted to make sure he got to the far northern area as quickly as possible.

"Of course, but who consistently gets six hours of sleep a night? It will be weeks with these conditions." The Captain was used to giving his crew a full eight hours of sleep plus a few more to relax.

"I do," replied Freyr. Since taking the crown, he learned to survive on only a few hours of sleep a night. Every moment he relaxed was wasted time that should be using to help Marseille's people. There were too many issues for him to deal with in a day.

The Captain opened his mouth to protest but could say nothing. If the King ordered him to push his men, he had to. Most of the time they got paid for staying docked in Marseille and maintaining the ship. He swallowed his protests and acquiesced, "Understood. I will inform the crew."

As the man turned to leave, Freyr added, "Also, never talk back to Sierra again." He did not want anyone to disrespect his Captain of the Guard. She was one of the most competent people he knew and she always rose to any challenge he gave her.

****

Tyr stood, drenched in blood. The surrounding leaves dripped with the sanguine blood from the numerous bodies that were strewn around him.

The jungle was quiet and Krystof moved silently through the foliage. "Everyone cleared their areas. Did you want to set up camp here?"

The group had been constantly running and fighting for the past three days. It was difficult finding an area that was safe enough for them to rest.

Tyr's cold eyes looked at his childhood friend, "Are you sure? Have Valentina and Zlatica check again. I can't have us make any mistakes."

Krystof gave a nod and went to relay the message to the two women.

While Tyr waited for confirmation, he glanced down at his ring. He activated it and saw that the light blinked instead of giving off a steady faint line. His body became cold, despite being in the humid jungle.

𝘔𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘢, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥?

Now he worried that her life was in danger. He had not been to the base camp for over a month, so he had not heard her recent messages. Rana continually forced his team deep into enemy territories, putting them in dangerous situations time after time.

Luna noticed her brother's hardened expression appeared to be distressed. In a low voice, she asked, "Are you hurt? What's wrong?" She worried that he had a wound that appeared hidden because of all the blood that covered him.

His head jerked to see his sister's concerned face. Masking his emotions, he turned his head, so she would not be able to study him. "Nothing. Prepare to set up the wards so we can get some rest. If we are lucky, maybe we can get a few hours sleep."

He needed to keep his distance from his sister for now. Since she was his twin, she had a good sense of his moods and temperament. If they were at home, he would not mind, but while out in the field, he did not want anyone to know that he was worried.

Krystof ran back with a smile on his face. Both of their scouts confirmed that things appeared to be clear. He could continue at this pace for another day or two, but Luna began to slow down recently. He worried she would grow careless and be injured.

Just before he gave Tyr the O.K., Zlatica yelled, "Incoming! Two and a half klicks to the east about twenty of them. These look like officers." She slithered quickly across the ground, wanting to warn her teammates as soon as possible. Luckily the jungle terrain was suited for her lamia body and she did not have to worry about jagged rocks.

"Prepare an ambush!" Tyr ordered. He hoped this would be the last unit to pass through for the next few hours. The lack of rest was making their movements slower.