Tide

by Alydia Rackham

  And the two people that stood upon the dais twisted to see them.

  One was clearly an advisor—a middle-aged man dressed in simple, floor-length red robes.

  The other was a young, vividly-handsome man—perhaps five years younger than Galahad—whose countenance shone like the light off the water. He had short, golden hair, brilliant blue eyes, and laughing features. He wore a silvery blue doublet, blue trousers and white hose, with diamonds sparkling on the buckles of his shoes. He saw Galahad, who stood encompassed by his towering beasts—and dropped his book.

  The volume smacked against the steps of the dais, and the young man jumped.

  “Good lord,” he cried, scrambling to snatch it up, then gripped it in both hands as he gaped at Galahad. “It can’t be.”

  “Prince James, son of the late king Orion, nephew of King Leonardo?” Galahad said, his low voice echoing in the tall chamber.

  “Yes,” the prince nodded earnestly, frowning.

  Galahad solemnly met his eyes and evened his tone.

  “I have come to warn you that your kingdom will soon be attacked.”

  Chapter Two

  The prince almost dropped his book again. He exchanged a startled look with his advisor, then stepped down the dais toward Galahad.

  “Truly?” he said. “What…What news do you have to suggest that?”

  “I’ve come from the Fortress of Maith,” Galahad answered. “The masters there watch over Edel’s Seven Seals—the seals laid down by the first Curse-Breakers to guard Edel from Curse-Makers from other shores.”

  “Yes, I have heard of them,” the prince nodded earnestly. “There is supposed to be one just out my window, in fact. In the sea.”

  “Yes, there is,” Galahad replied. “And on a clear day, I imagine you can see it under the water. A huge circle, perhaps a mile wide, of dark stone?”

  The prince watched him intently.

  “Yes, I believe so.”

  “Each of these seals has a guardian,” Galahad told him. “His life is bound to the seal, and he’s to guard the seal and keep it strong.”

  The prince glanced back at his advisor again before turning back to Galahad. His pale face had flushed red.

  “That…is the first I have heard of that,” he confessed. “Is it…Is it supposed to be a member of the royal family?”

  “On the contrary,” Galahad said. “The guardian only has one task. And, for some reason that none of the masters can understand…your guardian has vanished.”

  The prince blinked, and his eyebrows shot up.

  “What? Who is it? What happened to him?”

  Galahad shook his head again.

  “I don’t know the answer to either question. But one thing is certain.” He took a step closer to the prince. “Without him, the seal—and also your kingdom—are vulnerable to the dark powers of the sea, and whatever may lay beyond that. And it may be…” he lowered his voice. “…that the reason for the guardian’s disappearance is an imminent attack.”

  The prince swallowed.

  “I see,” he murmured. He shifted his weight. “You should know that my erm…My uncle, the king, is ill.” He looked up at Galahad, his eyes bright and open. “He is…He is not here.”

  “Yes, I know,” Galahad said flatly. “He is at the Halls of Healing, but he is not doing well.”

  The prince watched Galahad, the color leaving his face, then nodded slowly.

  “Yes,” he said quietly.

  “Which is why I bring this news to you,” Galahad finished. “And to request your permission to stay in the kingdom of Mhuirlan, and even on Metern, until I can uncover what has happened to your guardian.”

  “Oh, good lord, yes,” the prince said in a rush, and slapped the spine of his book. “Yes, please, please stay. As long as you like. Erm, in fact…” he glanced at his advisor again before taking a deep breath. “We have accommodation for a Curse-Breaker. My uncle made me aware of it last spring. It’s a house called Euryor, just down the hill, on the cliffs. It’s kept up by a groundskeeper and a maid, furnished and everything.” The prince tried to smile. “It’s only about a mile away.”

  “I’m sure it will be sufficient,” Galahad said.

  “More than that, I hope,” the prince laughed. “In fact, I’ll ride with you myself, and show it to you. You must be ready to take some rest.”

  “Thank you,” Galahad inclined his head slightly.

  “Garrick, have them ready my horse,” the prince ordered his advisor. The advisor bowed and left the room through a side door. The prince looked past Galahad at Thondorfax.

  “And what a magnificent animal you have here,” he remarked—and without reserve, stepped right up to Thondorfax and vigorously petted his neck. Galahad’s attention instantly sharpened…

  But Thondorfax just nickered and bumped the prince lightly in the chest with his nose. Scraw hopped nimbly down to the horse’s shoulders and gave a squack. The tension in Galahad’s shoulders eased.

  “Scraw believes you were talking to him,” he noted.

  “And so I was!” the prince grinned up at the large bird, then slapped Thondorfax’s flank. “Both are equally splendid.”

  Scraw replied with a frank “blick!” and canted his head, studying the prince with one bright eye. Then the prince briskly turned to Galahad.

  “Shall we go?”

  The prince, astride a sleek white horse with black mane and tail, decked out with grey tack, led the way down the terraced garden lane, with Galahad, Thondorfax and Scraw just beside. They turned a slightly different direction than Galahad had come, and passed into a cultivated wood of firs and beeches. Thondorfax huffed, pranced, and strained at his bit. The prince glanced over at him.

  “Is he not tired from his journey?”

  Galahad snorted.

  “Thondorfax is never tired.”

  “Well then,” the prince sat up and gathered his reins in his gloved hands. “Stell hasn’t been out in a few days. Do you mind if I stretch his legs?”

  Galahad looked over at the prince, and quirked an eyebrow.

  The prince grinned at him in challenge.

  “Hyah!” the prince slapped his horse’s rump, and the steed took off.

  “Blahk!” Scraw barked, and took off straight into the trees.

  Without urging, Thondorfax lunged after Stell.

  Galahad easily leaned forward and wound that thunderous mane through his fingers, his own body flowing right with his horse’s as the great Friesian caught up to the prince’s smaller steed. The rumble of their hooves echoed through the wood, and hundreds of surprised birds burst up out of the hedges and branches.

  They raced up and down several short hills, then passed through a gate in a large stone wall, and out onto the moors. The wind whipped through their capes and the manes of their mounts. The road turned into a beaten carriage track, and each man rode upon one wheel mark, side by side. At a full gallop, they swept over the rolling, heathy wilderness, passing copses of gorse, the salty wind ripping across the hills.

  Galahad glanced over at the prince. The other young man kept his seat extremely well, riding with familiarity and comfort, even at this blinding speed. The prince looked at Galahad, and Galahad instantly saw the prince was gauging him in the same way. The prince’s smile broadened, and he leaned forward…

  And the horse Stell shot forward—even faster.

  Galahad blinked, then lightly squeezed Thondorfax’s flanks with his heels.

  Thondorfax whinnied, tossed his head, and blazed after the other horse, immediately catching up. The prince laughed out loud, let go of the reins, and threw his arms out to either side. Stell kept galloping at full tilt, as his prince kept his seat as easily as if their bodies were one.

  Scraw’s shadow crossed over them, as the two riders began their descent, down the face of a hill toward a gathering of four weathered trees, and a stone house and barn standing amongst them. The prince gathered his reins back up again and leaned back a little in t
he saddle. Stell snorted but slowed down. Thondorfax followed suit. They passed between two short trees and into the yard in front of the house.

  It was a simple, old-built, two-story house of light brown stone, with a simple front door and narrow windows. It had a slate roof and two chimneys, one of which puffed smoke out to be instantly carried away by the wind. Ivy crawled up one side of the house’s face. Across the yard from the front door stood a stout, thick barn with a thatch roof. Chickens clucked and pecked at corn meal in the yard, and a goat wandered through the barn door.

  Galahad drew Thondorfax up in front of the door, and cast his gaze up across the house. To the right stood a leaning woodshed, to its left, a walled garden with a wooden front gate. Galahad’s hands relaxed on the reins, and he let out a small sigh.

  “This is Euryor,” the prince declared, swinging his leg back and hopping off his horse. “Come inside.”

  Galahad stayed where he was for a moment, then climbed down and clapped Thondorfax on the shoulder. The horse rattled his bridle, then turned to nose the chickens out of the way to eat some of the corn meal. Scraw landed on Galahad’s shoulder, and Galahad followed the prince up to the front door. The prince rapped his knuckles against the black-painted wood. A few moments later, the door swung open, and a short girl stood there, perhaps sixteen years old. She had brown hair bound back under a white cap, and wore a grey dress and white apron. She had a pleasant, round face, large brown eyes, and freckles. Freckles that were immediately drowned in a blush as she dipped into a low curtsey.

  “Your Highness!” she gasped, and then threw herself out of the way, holding the door open.

  “Thank you,” the prince said, stepping up into the entryway. Galahad stepped up after him, his head barely passing beneath the low lintel. Scraw ducked, too.

  Galahad paused a moment to let his eyes adjust. The floor inside the entry hallway was polished flagstone, covered by a pale, plain rug. It was dim, just lit by the outside light coming in from other windows.

  “Galahad Stormcrane, this is Little Emblyn, the housemaid,” the prince gestured to the maid, who dipped another curtsey, her eyes wider than ever.

  “S-Stormcrane?” she gasped. “The Curse-Breaker?”

  “Yes,” the prince chuckled. “He’s going to be staying here as long as he needs, to conduct business. Please make him comfortable.”

  “I will, Your Highness,” she promised, redder still.

  “Here is the sitting room,” the prince said, passing through the doorway to their left and into a small but airy room with a carpet and a few pieces of furniture, and a painting of Perlkastel hanging over the white mantel. The walls were whitewashed stone.

  “Through here is the library, which I think you will find the most interesting,” the prince remarked, striding on ahead through the wide doorway. Galahad followed him into a tall-ceilinged room filled with dark-wood shelves that were positively packed with volumes. The ceiling had been painted with a mural of a cloudy sky cut by streams of sunlight. Cherubic figures had been carved into the posts of the shelves, and several of them held out lit lamps in their hands. The far wall bore two tall windows, with long curtains. A fine woven rug covered the floor, and padded leather furniture stood around the strong stone fireplace. A fire now burned in the hearth, and above the mantel hung a broad painting of a battered, torn ship rolling upon a stormy sea.

  “That’s the Cygnus,” Galahad noted quietly, stepping closer to peer at it. Then, he turned and regarded the prince. “The ship your father was aboard when it was lost.”

  “Yes,” the prince offered a brave smile. “My mother never wants to see that painting again…but I couldn’t bear to throw it out. So I brought it here.” He shrugged stiffly. “My aunt tells me it will bring bad luck to the family.”

  “Nonsense. It’s just a painting,” Galahad murmured, studying the lines of the art again.

  “My father collected all kinds of books,” the prince said with a short sigh, stepping back and glancing around. “And, as you probably know, he was friends with Clanahan Curse-Breaker, so Clanahan sent him a good many volumes.”

  “Did he?” Galahad faced him, then frowned up at the hundreds of tomes that lined the shelves. “That could be useful.”

  “Come, let me show you the rest of the house,” the prince beckoned, and left the library the same way they had come in. Scraw croaked, and jumped off Galahad’s shoulder and perched on the back of a chair. Galahad flashed his eyebrows at him, and left to follow the prince.

  They trailed back through the sitting room, into the entry hallway, and across into a medium-sized dining room, with a simply-made, rectangular table with benches and adorned with candlesticks and garlands. An iron chandelier hung from the ceiling, and light came in from the window to Galahad’s right.

  “Dining room, and through here is the kitchen,” the prince pushed the door aside to reveal an old-fashioned but large kitchen.

  Little Emblyn stood at the sink, and when the door swung open, she yelped and dropped a pan straight into soapy water, and splashed all over.

  The prince ducked back, letting the door fall shut, and chuckled.

  “Poor girl, she’s too used to being by herself.”

  With that, he left the dining room again. Galahad gave the room another cursory glance, then came after the prince into the entryway and then up the creaking flight of stairs that led directly to the second level. They turned to the left and into a narrow, whitewashed passage. They passed one door on the right, turned a corner, and then found a door to the left. The prince opened it, then gestured to Galahad.

  “After you.”

  Galahad dipped his head, and entered.

  “This is the master bedroom,” the prince said. “I hope you find it comfortable.”

  “Mm,” Galahad grunted as he looked around.

  The walls had been whitewashed and then painted a faded red, with no windows, just paintings of faraway landscapes, lit by lamps. A narrow fireplace stood in the far left-hand corner, and a four-poster bed stood to his right. The carpet on the floor and the blankets on the bed were deep scarlet. A chair and writing desk sat near the fireplace, and a trunk at the foot of the bed.

  Galahad stepped inside, unstrapped his sword from his belt, and laid it across the bed.

  “You sound as if you believe what your aunt said about bad luck,” he mused, crossing the room to look at a painting of a copper mine standing upon a cliff, its smoke stack reaching to the leaden sky. “Yet you ride as recklessly as a schoolboy.”

  Behind him, the prince laughed, then cleared his throat.

  “Well, I…”

  Galahad turned and looked directly at him. The prince’s smile faltered.

  “I might say that…my aunt’s experiences and my own differ somewhat.”

  “How so?” Galahad wondered.

  The prince suddenly looked paler, a trapped look in his bright eyes. He swallowed hard, and he pinched the thumb of his left hand in the fingers of his right. Galahad waited.

  “A fortnight ago,” the prince began—much unsteadier than before. “I was traveling home from the island of Hanter-broder, and my ship was caught in a storm.”

  Galahad’s brow furrowed, and he came back toward the prince, listening.

  “Between the islands of Hanter-broder and Hanter-hwor there’s a ring of protruding stones called Serpent’s Pass,” the prince went on. “It’s difficult enough to navigate in calm waters…but it was night, and the seas had picked up, and it had begun to rain. It was impossible to see them.” The prince swallowed again. “The ship was driven straight into them. Completely smashed to pieces. All the crew lost.”

  “How did you survive?” Galahad pressed.

  The prince suddenly laughed, and shook his head.

  “I…I don’t know,” he admitted. “The next morning, I found myself lying on the beach of Hanter-hwor, unharmed. And the only thing I remember…” he trailed off, and gave Galahad a hesitant look.

  “What?”
Galahad asked.

  “I remember…arms,” the prince said quietly. “Arms taking hold of me. And a voice. Singing. And when I heard it…I forgot to be afraid.”

  “The voice and arms of a man?” Galahad asked carefully.

  “No,” the prince answered. “A woman.”

  Galahad said nothing. For a long moment, he held the prince’s gaze. Then he nodded.

  “I see. And this is why you feel you can be reckless.”

  “Well, not reckless,” the prince corrected. “But…ever since then, I have looked at the world through new eyes. Before this happened, I used to fret over petty details, and treat people carelessly. Now, small, simple things give me pleasure, and I see beauty all around me.” The prince now searched Galahad’s face. “Do you understand what I mean?”

  “I do,” Galahad nodded. “That feeling will pass.”

  The prince laughed.

  “I doubt it.”

  Galahad considered, then nodded again.

  “Let us hope not,” he said. “But I am thankful you survived.”

  “You believe me, then,” the prince wanted to clarify. “I’ve…I haven’t told anyone what I’ve just told you. I feared they would think I’d gone mad.”

  Galahad lifted an eyebrow and tugged off his cape.

  “Of all the tales I have ever heard, and the things I have seen,” Galahad said. “That would be the least strange.”

  “Truly?” The prince’s eyebrows went up. “Well…I should like to travel with you sometime!”

  “Unfortunately, I never travel with anyone,” Galahad replied, tossing the cape onto the bed. “Would you mind showing me the barn?”

  Chapter Three

  Master Reola,

  I have arrived safely on the island of Metern. The journey was uneventful, and I met with no trouble on the road. Passing by the southern border of Spegel, however, I did pause to look past the trees, and I could see frost inside the wood. I confess I am still uneasy about sending little Rose Melhorn to address that curse—especially if she is to deal with an ice fairy in the full height of her power. I am not far from Spegel’s eastern border, even now. Should she need my assistance with anything, she, or you, need only send word.