by LeRoy Clary
I glanced to where she indicated and found nothing unusual. Then, a man moved, and as if another’s shadow, one behind also moved, the same direction, the same amount. “This has been going on a while?”
“I noticed him earlier but wasn’t sure he was hiding until recently.”
Again, why would someone hide as he obviously was doing, unless he was watching something or someone on the Gallant? And perhaps I was paranoid. But the knife that had fallen to the pier as Will passed by had not been a manifestation of my paranoia. Will had spotted the other man and probably made the knife fall.
That made two men on the pier who either watched or waited for me.
I turned my attention from the small crowd on the pier still assembled, even though the passengers who were going ashore had done so. They had departed to the city. It was clean and smelled different, but all towns and cities have their own scents. The streets were paved with brown slabs of rock, the walls of the buildings the same.
Most buildings beyond the cavernous warehouses near the docks, were two-story, with shops, barns, stores, or workplaces on the bottom floor. Stairs on the sides took residents up to their homes. The roofs were uniformly made of gray slate, split and overlapped. A single small chimney for cooking testified to the warm climate, and many of the ovens were outside on porches.
While the women wore long robes of various colors, the men almost all wore brown, the same color as the desert sand. Many seemed to have a splash of color in the form of a scarf. I wondered at wearing the scarfs in the heat until I noticed they were used to wipe sweat from the brow and face. They covered the neck to prevent sunburn, and I saw more than one wrap them around their heads and cover their mouths, a useful item in blowing sand. Without looking closer, I’d bet the material was thin enough to see through while protecting the eyes.
The robes made everyone look alike.
They also made visitors instantly stand out.
I felt conspicuous and was. However, I put aside my immediate idea of sending Lady Grace to purchase similar clothing to the natives. I was a princess from a foreign kingdom and should stand out. It was part of my identity, now. My chin needed to be held high, and I should have brought along rings, necklaces, and bracelets to indicate my position.
“They all look alike,” Lady Grace said as if reading my mind.
I turned to her and found the trace of a smile on her lips. “Did my father send anything with you for me to wear?”
“He did. Gowns and jewelry. I think he may have also sent a tiara your mother wore to official engagements.”
“You think?”
“Okay, I opened the chest and peeked. He said to keep it until, and if, you needed it. Instead of blending in with the locals, I think you should consider standing out. It will give you a little more distinction and maybe draw respect.”
She was right, of course. I didn’t like my father or his appointees doing my thinking for me, but in this case, all of them had been right. In addition to my new, stronger attitude, a few baubles wouldn’t hurt.
My friend, Frisian who had eaten dinner with me approached. He nodded, glanced at Lady Grace as if he needed her permission to come closer, and then when I nodded for him to continue, he said, “Are you going ashore?”
“I hope to,” I said.
“Hope? I can escort you if there is a problem. I know Vin well.”
“It’s not that. I’ve asked for a meeting with the city leaders and hope to hear from them.”
“Official business?” he asked.
I nodded. We were facing the pier again, my eyes on the sneaky man who still had not fully shown himself.
Frisian said, “The political climate here has changed in the last few years. You may not be welcome.”
“Then, I will not go ashore. However, a time may come when Vin might want the support of Dire, and this would be the time to discuss a mutual treaty. In the future, Dire may demand more than a fair share—or even refuse to help.”
He considered my words and seemed to appreciate the implied threat within them. “I know a few people of influence here. If the city leaders refuse to deal with you, perhaps some of those friends of mine may wish to meet.”
That was an interesting idea. Could an agreement of sorts be made with them? There might be benefits for both, but then I thought that if the situation were reversed, what would my father’s reaction be? I didn’t think he would approve of a foreign dignitary arriving on our shores and making formal agreements with the citizens of Dire.
“Anything official would offend the local rulers.”
“Would an unofficial meeting offend?” he asked.
I liked Frisian and had enjoyed our conversation and meal together. However, his insistence in meeting friends of his was putting me off and raising suspicions about our innocent meeting. Below the surface lurked an objective I hadn’t detected before. While it might benefit Dire, it might not.
What troubled me most, was that he had effectively concealed his intentions during our earlier meeting. I might feel slighted or insulted on a personal level, but this felt like more. An air of deception had crept into our brief relationship. Paranoia again? Perhaps.
A glance at Lady Grace found she wore a disapproving expression and kept her eyes averted. She might do the same with any man I met with, but I doubted it. I’d ask her when Frisian departed, which I suddenly wanted him to do.
I said as I turned my back to him, “Thank you for the invitation. I’ll consider it and get word to you if interested.”
His heels pounding the wooden deck of the ship were loud and crisp. A slight disturbance in the distance near the buildings drew our attention. A carriage pulled by twin mares with coats so shiny they may well have been polished drew near. Timor sat in it, his arm waving a greeting and a smile on his face.
The crowd on the pier parted, and I noticed the lurker slinking off to enter a small alley between two buildings. Timor leaped to the ground, spoke briefly to the driver, and hurried up the gangplank to us.
He said with a wide grin, “Three of the council have agreed to meet with you after the noon meal. An informal meeting, to get to know each other.”
I exchanged a disagreeable look with Lady Grace and stepped a half-step behind her, so she could answer. She said imperiously, “After the noon meal? Princess Elizabeth is invited to meet with three of them after they enjoy their meal? She is not invited to dine with them?”
His smile dissolved with the acid dripping from each of her words. His gaze lowered, and he offered as an excuse, “Only three are available.”
Lady Grace placed a calming hand on Timor’s forearm and continued in a friendlier voice, “Princess Elizabeth would have to be trussed and carried to the carriage for the meeting after this insult. It is a slight not only to her but to the entire kingdom of Dire. The Gallant sails with the morning tide and Vin will be the lesser for this diplomatic outrage. Go tell them that—after the noon meal.”
“And then what?” Timor asked.
“Our princess may consent to receive them here at the ship, where there will be no meal or refreshments since they have already eaten, however meeting with three of the nine is a trivial attempt she will not endure. A minimum of a majority of five will attend, or she will be too busy preparing for a meeting with the Council of Nine for Dagger, the capital of Kondor and not a tiny outpost like Vin, where I’m sure there will be all nine in attendance.”
“Do you expect me to say all that?” Timor exploded, his face red.
Lady Grace said coolly, “Expect? No, Timor, my princess demands it of you. While it may be difficult, remember she is empowered to take your head. I suggest that you do not forget a single word.”
He looked at me, eyes wide.
“You have heard my decision, and Lady Grace has stated my position perfectly. Please come to my cabin when you return to tell me of their response.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Damon
I listened to the conclu
sion, almost an accusation, that Fielding was the crown prince of Vin. It seemed a coincidence too great to ignore. However, Vin was a small province within Kondor, and Fielding was sure to be recognized at some point. Since Flier was from a wealthy family that interacted often, the coincidence seemed less strange and might be explained because their families moved in the same small circles.
The singing of the swords had brought us together, or I may have slain him and went on about my business without ever knowing. Then, my mind went to work on those facts as the others continued their discussion, which in retrospect might be considered odd, but somewhere in the tangle in information was more to be discovered.
It was the swords that held my attention. My mind went back to them. I reviewed the battle in the desert again and the idea that any of the twelve or thirteen of us in Slacker’s band could have crossed swords with Fielding, but it had been me. Like we had been drawn to each other. He could have charged at any of us yet had come at me as if I was alone.
That was what my mind was telling me. The coincidence of that the encounter was too incredible to believe—or to be chance. A single pair of matched swords had come together as if preordained, and the keening vibrations as we neared each other prevented us from fighting. Nobody else had heard the sound or felt the vibration.
Even odder was another fact. When we had been angry and ready to battle, the swords sang so loud it hurt our ears as we got closer. Now, we walked beside each other without any of the sounds. I wondered if I drew my sword and threatened him, what would happen.
He was also the crown prince of Vin. I was working on a diplomatic mission for my princess and king. Again, the set of coincidences was too great to believe our meeting had been accidental.
Anna’s voice entered my head. *He’s as surprised as you, and wondering if you somehow set this meeting up between you two.*
*Thank you for your help, Anna. Now let me alone for a while.* I went to stand before Fielding. On impulse, pulled my sword, slapped the flat of the blade in my left hand and presented it out to him.
“What?” He asked, unmoving, his eyes wary.
“Would you care to examine my sword? I certainly would like a closer look at yours.” The high-pitched keening returned, but at a lower volume, that only we heard. It drew our attention, and I watched for others to react. None did. He pulled his sword and handed it to me, hilt first. I lowered my blade and held my hilt to him in a similar fashion.
Each of us took a step back, and the high-pitched sound quieted to nothing. His blade was just like mine, a twin. The handle was wrapped in the same coarse skin of a sea creature so it wouldn’t become slippery from sweat or blood. I searched for differences and found only one. The edge of his blade had no nicks. It was perfectly smooth the entire length.
Other than those small imperfections caused by my careless use, the blades were identical. Not similar. Prior to me nicking mine, if the pair had been placed together and I was told to recover mine, I couldn’t have. That may not seem like so great a discovery to many.
To me, with a blade I believed to be the only one in our kingdom from the forges where it emerged, to find another would have amazed me. To find one similar astounded me. However, to find one exactly the same, undoubtedly made by the same hands was beyond belief.
It appeared Fielding felt the same.
He said, “Your edge can be repaired?”
“Why do they sing?” I asked, more concerned with that than getting mine fixed. “But that is a question I can’t answer yet. After this is over, I will travel to Malawi to find out. All I know is Malawi lies more to the south, but it is a trip I need to take. The singing must be a spell of some sort, placed on both of our swords at the same time. Perhaps the swords were gifts to brothers and the spell to keep them from ever fighting.”
“There might be more swords that sing with ours?”
I grinned. Without any foundation for the singing swords, he had devised a glorious story that would refuse to leave my thinking because it fit the story of our swords so well. “Romantic,” I accused him.
“What of it?” he smiled lopsidedly.
“Where did your sword come from? Not where it was made, but who gave it to you? Your father, you said. The man who should be King of Vin, I suppose. Mine was presented by the King of Dire. Does it strike you odd that two kings owned these?”
Fielding said, continuing my thoughts, “Where did each of them get the swords, to begin with? Probably from their fathers, but there is a story we have to know.”
“I think both of us will agree that the swords were made together, of the same metal, and somehow a mage cast a spell that they never cross blades in battle. That only makes them more special.”
Fielding handed mine back to me, as I gave him his. “There is one other thing to note. As we attacked you, I had my choice of opponents. When I saw you, there was no one else. You?”
Before answering, I remembered them rushing over that sand hill. My eyes had locked on Fielding from the first instant as if there were no others. “The same.”
I allowed my mind shift to my sister and how she knew where the dragon, mages, and sorceresses were at any moment. I turned my back on him. “Step away move quietly to either side.”
He did as I asked without question. Without hearing, I knew precisely where he was. I didn’t have to turn and look. I said, “Turn your back to me.”
He did, and I moved silently to my right then back again.
“I know exactly where you are. Move away from me a hundred paces and let’s do it again.”
We repeated the experiment with the same results, then moved to face each other. He said, “We are linked.”
“Now what?” I asked.
He said, “I will pledge my loyalty to your leader. The two of us must advance together.”
I called, “Slacker, can you come here for a moment?”
Slacker had been sitting with a water jug, surrounded by those of his men who were not on watch. He rose and came to our side. “Yes?”
I turned to Fielding. “Who are these men?”
“Outlaws. Thieves and murderers, if you want a truthful answer.” He didn’t attempt to lie or conceal his beliefs.
Then I turned to Slacker and his suddenly red and angry face. “Is that true?”
“No. We are loyal to our king, not a council of people from Dagger the mages brought here to rule. We were the King’s Army. While we might not look like it now, we fight for Vin.”
Fielding was smiling. He looked at me. “I didn’t know.”
I said to Slacker, “Meet the rightful heir to the throne of Vin.”
Slacker didn’t seem impressed . . . at first. His mouth was trying to deny my words while his eyes took in the measure of Fielding. He slowly fell to one knee, his head bowed.
“Stand and be recognized,” Fielding said, sounding every bit as much a royal as any I’d heard.
The eyes of all were on us. Flier said to Slacker, “While we never spoke, our families attended several functions together. I recognize him and vouch for who he says he is.”
Fielding said, “Those in my family who would rule have all been killed, murdered, or died. I am alone.”
“Not anymore.” Slacker said. “With you as our head, I can draw from hundreds of loyal fighters. We can raise an army and defeat the scum the council sends after us.”
Kendra had come closer and heard most of what was said. She waved an arm to indicate the four of us, which included Flier. “My people have a princess we need to save. Her ship was due in Vin with the morning tide, and we know she is in danger of being double-crossed by the Council of Nine. We were heading there to help when we met Slacker and his band.”
I said, “And now we have to get to Vin as fast as possible. We should have circled around and avoided the battle but couldn’t do that to our new friends. However, we must leave right away and do what we can to help Elizabeth.”
“We will all go,” Slacker said.
“No,” Kendra corrected. “Princess Elizabeth came in hopes of forming a treaty between Kondor and Dire. If you retake the throne, Fielding will remember and send a diplomat to us. But for now, our small band has more chance of success of going quietly and secretly than entering Vin with a squad of soldiers.”
Flier said, “She’s right. I will take them. There are a few back ways, and I know the city.”
We gathered our belongings and readied ourselves. Fielding approached, and my sword on my hip sang. There was no need to turn around to know he stood there.
“You feel it?” He asked.
“Yes.” I turned.
He clasped my hand in his. “We are not finished with this. Your sword needs repair, and we need an explanation for why they sing. There is only one place to find a suitable craftsman and answers. I expect you will go there and stop at Vin to see me as you return to your home?”
I told him of my intention of going to Malawi and wished him to travel with me, but as the words fell from my lips, I knew they were lies, and so did he. We both laughed.
He said, “If we resolve this trouble, I will accompany you. Send word, and if possible, we will make it a trip to remember.”
We departed, Flier again at our head. Each of the five of us carried a pair of jugs of water. Anna forced her way to my side. I hadn’t spoken to her all day. She was becoming attached to me and seemed to wish to spend more time at my side that with her sister.
“Is there a reason you are walking with me?” I asked.
“I miss talking with you.”
“Why?”
“Because you are so smart—and so stupid.”
At that, I laughed, then realized she was honest in her assessment. “And why am I so stupid?”
“Because Kendra can tell if there are mages and sorceresses up ahead waiting for us. She can have her dragon kill them, and any Wyvern waiting for us, too. But you don’t even ask her.”
