The main part of writing The Young Sorceress, was squeezing in some additional background on characters who appeared in The Two Dragons, which I had already written.  One of the main characters was completely different.  I already knew what I wanted to write for Book 6: The Sorceress and her Lovers, so I used the opportunity to build some background for a character who would play a big part in that book– Kieran Baxter.  Up to that point, he had only appeared as a very minor character in book 1.  Here he is in book 4.

Baxter was the latest of His Majesty’s ships to take this duty.  She was a battle sloop and though larger than wooden sailing ships of old bearing the same designation, she was one of the smaller vessels in the Royal Navy.  It was Baxter’s opinion that she was too small for her current assignment, though he would never have admitted such.  At 990 tons, she was just exactly 250 feet long and drew a beam of 36 feet.  With a single machinegun and no ship to ship weapons, she had to rely on her speed to get her 93 crewmen to safety—no match for a frigate and certainly not a cruiser.  Her three anti-airship guns could take on any dirigible, but while her two depth charge throwers and two torpedo tubes made her a menace to a submersible, Freedonian unterseeboots usually traveled in packs.

This day had been like every other one of the past three weeks.  The Snowflake had circled one of the smaller Mulliens, looking for any sign of Freedonian or Mirsannan influence and generally ignoring any ships from Enclep.  In this case there had been none.  There was nothing to distinguish this particular island from the hundreds of others in the area.  It didn’t even have a name on the charts.  It was large enough to have a couple of peaks, no doubt volcanic, though if they were active there was no sign of it.  Thick tropical forests grew right up the edge of the beach all the way around.  There was no sign of even the most rudimentary civilized life.  There was in fact no sign of human life what-so-ever.

Baxter stood along the aft railing and watched the sun dip below the waves.  He felt the comforting thrum of the twin steam turbines beneath his feet.  Relaxing here before retiring had become his nightly routine, something of which his steward was well aware.

“Tea Captain?” asked the sailor, holding a cup for him.

“Thank you.”  Baxter took a sip and sighed.

It was at that moment that he saw them and for a split second he thought they were simply the last bits of light reflecting off the waves.  They weren’t.  They were two torpedoes and they hit at almost the same instant not fifty feet forward from where he stood.  Suddenly he was flying through the air.  Then he was underwater, struggling to breathe.  Just as he reached the surface, something crashed into the waves two feet away, creating a huge splash.  Baxter turned in the water, looking for the Snowflake.  He found her just in time to see a tremendous blast rip the ship apart as the cold seawater hit the steaming boilers.

Baxter swam toward the ship, but it disappeared below the waves long before he was able to close half the distance.  As the thought that his first command was now gone registered in his brain, so for the first time did the fact that he himself was in serious trouble.  He was already exhausted and though he knew there was land close by, he had lost all sense of direction and no longer had the light in which to see it.  He was wearing his boots and they were filled with water, dragging him down.  He thought about removing them, but didn’t think he could stay afloat while he did so.  Debris was floating all around, but most of it was tiny.  He grabbed the first thing he saw floating that was larger than he was and pulled his body onto it, grinning mirthlessly when he realized it was part of a lifeboat.

Holding on for his life, Baxter spent the night being tossed about like a cork.  He was sure that he hadn’t fallen asleep.  He couldn’t have.  Yet sunrise appeared far sooner than it should have.  As it did so, it framed the shape of the island that Snowflake had circumnavigated the day before.  It looked less than a mile away.  There was nothing else to do but make for it.  Finally able to remove his boots, Baxter tied them by the shoelaces to the single metal cleat on the remains of the lifeboat.  Then lying on his stomach, he kicked with his feet toward land.