Princess at Sea

by Dawn Cook

  Pained in my soul, I bit my lip and watched until the milling sentries came between us, and I lost sight of him. Thadd was suffering more than he let on: having already endured the heartache of seeing his love wed to another, knowing there would be a legal heir someday—and all that went along with that.

  A sigh slipped from me. There was nothing I could do. We all had our own puntas to slay. And saying a quick pain was better than a long slow ache was a lie. It all hurt. They all left scars.

  Turning to face the unseen sun, I pushed my feelings away and clicked my tongue to get the horse moving. It rocked into motion, and with my fingers tingling with magic, I trundled the clapboard wagon holding a kingdom’s ransom unhindered through the palace gates and into the city streets when the gates opened to allow more returning soldiers entry.

  The morning wind seemed to swell in the harbor to fill the streets with noise as I passed the palace walls and became lost among my people. The wind chattering in my head rose and fell in some private thought the zephyr didn’t care to share with me, and I pushed it down, refusing to let it gain a foothold. Though it was early, the streets were noisy with merchants readying their wares, some doing a brisk business in the gray light. There was an unusual tension everywhere, words sharp and tempers quick.

  I joined the steady stream of nervous people headed for the main gate. The snatches of conversation I caught revolved about the royal couple, and the frequent hails and questions shouted to the returning men in Costenopolie uniform had me on edge. There was worry, but no fear in them. A hard readiness, but no revenge. I had been right to tell them the truth.

  My pulse quickened when I neared the manned exit, but I was let through without hindrance. The three horses trailing behind me earned a few curious glances and nothing more. The air freshened when I passed the gates and continued on straight down the seldom-used path toward Saltwood. Most of the outgoing people had turned north to the interior: carts and wagons, people with bundles on their backs. More people pushed past me, eager to get in and looking for news. The rising sun hit my face but gave very little warmth. The morning fog had risen, and, shivering, I sent my gaze down to the harbor.

  Immediately I tensed. Kelly’s Sapphire had her sails up and was riding the slack tide out of the harbor. My shudder of imagining the spyglass turned upon me turned to relief; I had been seen, and Alex and Contessa were safe for a few hours more. Someone would meet me on the road to Saltwood, and after I gave them the ransom, I would take them home. Then Kavenlow and Jeck could butcher whomever they wanted.

  Slowly the sounds and stench of the lower city were left behind, replaced by the chill silence of wind and lusty song-birds when I passed under the old-growth trees. The clop of four horses was softer than I would have expected, the trail being damp with the last spring rain.

  A confusing mix of numb inevitability and wire-tight tension filled me as I jostled along. My fingers kept returning to the braided leather whip about my waist, checking and rechecking that I had it and my three throwing knives. I had no darts, and to have asked Jeck for some after Kavenlow had cleaned out my room would have only aroused suspicion. Besides, Jeck had already refused me toxin once for the same reason Kavenlow had.

  The sounds of the wagon and the horses behind me were hypnotic. I kept the pace slow, though I wanted to charge through the woods as if I were trailing fire. I quickly passed the few people on foot burdened with city goods who had left before me, keeping my head down lest I be recognized. There weren’t many travelers since the road led only to Saltwood, and unless livestock was involved, it was easier to boat around the peninsula than travel across it.

  I continued through the early morning, feeling the clammy dampness under the trees rise and turn to clouds. The farther I went, the more alone and guilty I became for having lied to Kavenlow. My stomach was pinching with hunger, but I hadn’t brought any food and probably wouldn’t have eaten if I had. I knew the creek Kavenlow had pointed out on the map couldn’t be much farther ahead, and it was no surprise when I came upon a dubious-looking bridge made up of downed logs. It could by no stretch of the imagination hold a wagon, much less one as heavily laden as this one. I remembered it from my first run to Saltwood, but I had been on horseback at that time and hadn’t given it a second thought.

  Pulling the horse to a stop with my voice, I sat on the driver’s bench and looked at the wide, oily-topped river. I had already rolled through several shallow creeks, but this one was larger, and the edges looked treacherous. It was a tidal river by the looks of it, brackish by the plants growing along them and too salty for the horses to like. The steep banks would be difficult for the wagon, not to mention they looked mucky, and we would probably sink to our axles. A thin trail ran farther upstream on this side, paralleling the murky river, and I wondered if it went to an easier crossing.

  “How am I going to get past this?” I breathed, worried that the pirates wouldn’t accept any excuses or my being late. But it was then I realized the horse was staring downstream, ears pricked and clearly interested.

  Pulled by the sound of dripping water, I followed her gaze to a long rowboat making its slow way with the help of the day’s second slack tide. The man had his back to me and I had a moment of panic. But with a small gasp, I recognized the hat.

  “Duncan!” I cried softly. Fingers fumbling, I tied the reins to the front bench and lurched from the wagon. My skirt tore as I scrambled down the steep incline and stood with the mud covering my boot tops.

  Duncan turned at the snapping branches, and he gave me a delighted wave before he bent his back to his work again, angling to me now. Feeling silly for having rushed to the edge, I backed up, fidgeting. The bow of one of Kelly’s Sapphire’s long dinghies edged the shore. Fingers scraping the flaking paint, I pulled it up farther, eager to touch him and prove he was really here and all right.

  Remaining seated, he spun on the bench to me, a relieved, truly pleased smile on him. He was wearing a new matched brown jerkin and trousers, the white shirt under it almost glowing in the soft light that made it past the pale green of the spring-fresh leaves. The rings on his fingers glittered, and he looked grand, newly shaven and washed. My thoughts went to the pirates. They couldn’t hurt him. He was too clever. He would get away.

  “Tess,” he said softly, his eyes going from me to the wagon and back again. “I didn’t think they’d let you bring the wagon. This is fantastic.”

  “I lied to Kavenlow,” I blurted in confession. “They won’t be here until after sunset. He wasn’t going to put anything on it. I promised I would, and I lied to him.”

  “You’re alone?” he said, his eyes widening. “You came out here alone?”

  Wondering why he hadn’t gotten out of the boat yet, I nodded. He smiled then, looking relieved when he took my hand, and he wobbled out of the boat. “My brave princess,” he whispered, putting a welcome hand about my waist and pulling me closer. “That’s why I love you, Tess. You make the impossible happen.”

  Feeling him press into me, I flushed and dropped my eyes, but only for a moment. “I can’t get the wagon across the bridge,” I said, not moving away. “I need to get the ransom to them.” My gaze fell on his boat, not knowing if it was his escape or they had sent him to collect the ransom. “Where are my sister and Alex?” He said nothing, and a sliver of fear slid itself into my heart. From my thoughts came a faint chitter of wind, easily suppressed. “Where are they?” I asked again, softer but more intent.

  “They’re safe.” Giving me a squeeze, he dropped his grip on me. “They won’t move them until they know that ransom is on the cart and not men with swords.”

  My heart thumped at his words, and I soothed my conscience for having lied to Kavenlow. The pirates would have killed them if we had done it his way.

  “I’ve got the money,” I said, lurching to half climb the rise back up to the trail. “Come and see. I did what they wanted. Where’s my sister?”

  Duncan was quick behind me, blowing as he
reached the top of the small incline. He took in the wagon, and said, “You brought extra horses?”

  “They’re to ride back on,” I said, stopping stock-still and turning. The wind rose from my thoughts, inciting a small breeze down from the treetops to tug at my hair.

  “Oh yes,” he said distantly.

  Seeing his eyes fixed to the lump of canvas, I eagerly flung it aside. “Look. See?” I opened a satchel and shook the heavy bag to make the coins slide. “The rest are the same, and there’re two chests of spice.” Spinning, I caught a rare look of awe on his face.

  “Chu pits, Tess,” he breathed. “You did it. You really did it!”

  “Of course I did it,” I said. “I said I would. Where are my sister and Alex? Is someone going to come for the ransom, or do I have to take it to them?”

  I waited, heart pounding and breath held, watching Duncan shake his wonder off at the sight of so much gold. His motion smooth and unhurried, he closed the satchel without shifting a coin. The tarp was tugged back to hide them, and he turned to me, taking my elbows in his hands. “Tess,” he said, his brown eyes earnest. “They’re safe. They’re safe and unharmed and will stay that way until someone collects them.” He licked his lips and glanced over my shoulder and up the river. “Come with me. Now’s our chance to run.”

  Shock clenched my stomach. “Now?”

  He shifted from foot to foot, his eyes going to the trees when a sudden gust came and went. From my thoughts rose an accompanying chatter of mindless prattle. This was not what I needed. My excitement was causing me to loosen my grip on the wind, and my fear chilled me more than the cold early afternoon.

  “It will be all right,” Duncan said, his eyes pinched as he probably misread why my face was ashen. “I promise,” he said, bringing his eager gaze to mine. “Bring a horse and come with me. Leave everything. We can do this together, Tess. It will be fantastic.”

  My knees went weak, and my heart sang as the treetops mirrored the song that the wind in my head chortled. My life with Kavenlow was over. This was what I wanted. But to leave now? When my sister’s life was still uncertain? “Now?” I questioned, not believing what he was asking me to do.

  “Now.” He pulled me a step forward, his eyes alight under his dark bangs shifting in the growing breeze. “You and me. I’ve asked you before, but now it’s time. And I won’t be coming back. I want you to come with me. God help me, Tess. Say you will. We could be so good together. The things we could do. I know it!”

  “Duncan.” I shoved the guilt of having betrayed Kavenlow down where it mixed with the pain of abandoning him. “I want to go—”

  His smile widened, and he drew me into a joyous hug that pulled my feet from the ground before I could finish. “I knew you would!” he said in exuberance as he set me down and the leaves swirled around us in a half-noticed whirlwind. “I knew it! We will live like kings. We can go far, far away. We won’t ever come back, and we can go anywhere, do anything. Get your horse. This is better than I could have imagined, Tess!”

  Moving with an obvious excitement, he dragged the nearest satchel off the wagon. It hit the ground with a heavy sound, and the nearest horse started. I watched in bewilderment when he tipped it over the edge of the bank and scrambled down after it. Red boots getting wet, he walked into the mucky river and, swaying with the unaccustomed weight, swung it with a clatter into the stern of the rowboat. Water splashed softly, and the boat sank into the mud. He must be taking the ransom back to the boat before fleeing—now that there really was some.

  “Duncan!” I exclaimed, almost frightened when he came up to get another. “I can’t go this instant! They still have Contessa and Alex!”

  He jerked to a halt, his hand atop one of the wagon’s sides. His face lost expression, making him look unfamiliar and almost threatening. Holding his breath, he pulled the second bag from the wagon. “They’re fine,” he said, dragging the satchel to the bank and sliding down with it. “I promise. She’s fine and will be sitting before her fire in the palace before nightfall. You can write her later to tell her you’re all right, but we have to leave now. She’ll understand.”

  With a grunting heave, he tossed the second bag next to the first. He sloshed back to the mucky bank and took my hand when I extended it, pulling himself up and onto the path again. I watched in disbelief when he took the third satchel. “What about the pirates?”

  He turned slowly, a hand on the third bag in the bed of the wagon. His eyes were bright, and his shoulders were tense. “It’s all right,” he puffed, clearly tired. “With the horses, we can outrun them if anything goes wrong. Your sister and Alex will be fine,” he urged. “The tide is just about turned. We need it to get downstream fast enough for this to work. Come on, Tess. I could use a little help.”

  Dragging the bag, he stumbled down the slope and dropped it into the bottom of the boat.

  “I can’t just leave,” I said, and he squinted at me in the wind that the laughing zephyr in my head had called down. “And you’re the one that’s in danger, not me. You take one of the horses and run. I’ll take the ransom to them, and after I’m sure Contessa and Alex are safe, I’ll catch up with you in Saltwood.”

  Duncan’s shoulders slumped. He said nothing as he climbed back up the bank. Breathing hard, he took my elbows. His rings bit into my skin with an unfamiliar pressure. “No,” he said softly. “No you won’t. You’ll never find me.” He looked at the moving leaves, his grip on me tightening. “I promise it will be all right, but only if you come with me right now. It has to be now! It’s me, or them. I can’t risk waiting for you, and you’ll never find me.”

  My heart pounded, and my knees went weak. The wind in my head chattered and chortled, driving me to distraction when the breeze it incited tugged at my hair and dress. I searched his brown eyes, not knowing why I couldn’t see Contessa safe before I left. “Why can’t I say good-bye?” I asked, my words a whisper over the rising wind.

  His face went empty of emotion, and he dropped my hands. “I thought you loved me.”

  I felt as if he had hit me. Tears of confusion and frustration blurred my sight. The upper branches tossed, and I put a hand to my head to keep my hair from flying into my face. “I do,” I said, my chest hurting as I tried to understand. “But I can’t leave not knowing if they’re all right. Why can’t you wait, Duncan? Go to the palace. I’ll take the ransom to the boat.”

  Duncan took a slow breath. He swung his head up to me, the light gone from his eyes and replaced with nothing. He dragged the last bag to him, grunting as its deadweight jerked his arms down. “Good-bye, Tess.”

  My mouth dropped open. He staggered away with the money, and I reached out after him, my hand falling. “Duncan . . .” I stammered, my voice sounding small against the wind in the new leaves. “Just let me say good-bye, and we can be together.”

  “I never say good-bye.” Red boots in the muck, he half flung the bag into the bow of the boat. “If you don’t come with me now, you’ll never see me again.”

  His words took my breath from me. I looked at the chests of spice left behind, then back to him. “Duncan. I can’t just leave!” I pleaded, but he put a foot on the gunwale. Muscles straining, he shoved the boat back into the water to leave a deep furrow that filled with a dark, oily water. He leapt after it at the last moment, pushing the boat out even farther. The water splashed and threatened to swamp the boat, then it settled.

  “Where’s my sister?” I cried, rushing to the edge of the bank.

  “Upstream,” he said, the clatter of the oars sounding loud. He wouldn’t look at me. “In a shack. We could have been great, Tess. I wish you had said yes.”

  Bewildered, I stood by the wagon with my horses and watched him row back downstream with the outgoing tide. The wind tugged at me, rising and falling as I struggled to regain control of it and my chaotic thoughts both. The snickering lies in my head echoed and laughed. Not believing what had happened, I pulled my hair from where it was sticking to my face, o
nly now realizing tears streaked it.

  He just left. I didn’t understand. He asked me to go with him, and when I asked him to wait, he just rowed away.

  Twenty-five

  The horse pulling the wagon nickered nervously when I wrapped her reins about the rotting railing. I rubbed a cold hand down her bony face to try to soothe her, but she was picking up on my nervousness and would have nothing to do with it. Giving her a final pat, I stepped away, every part of me listening, tense for any noise that might come from the dilapidated shack.

  The abandoned building’s porch ran the length of the house, hanging over the tidal river in what might have once been pleasant but now only looked dangerous. On the other side, the chimney had fallen outward to leave a gaping hole. Bushes were growing in the opening, reaching past the rotting edges of the walls for the sun.

  I straightened my raggedy dress and headed to the three steps, skipping the first as it was entirely gone. Duncan’s behavior had me bewildered. I would have been angry with him if I understood. It was with an odd mix of confused hope that I edged cautiously from the steps to the porch, not knowing if I should call for Contessa or not.

  A board threatened to give way, and I jumped to another. There was an obvious creak and thump, and with a horse nickering at my flailing arms, a masculine laugh came from inside. Fear burned through me. Duncan had taken the ransom to the boat, and only honor would keep them holding to their end of the arrangement now. And there was little honor among thieves.

  “Duncan, my lad!” came Captain Rylan’s chuckle from inside. “You’ve outdone yourself. What did you do? Steal her horse as well as her heart?”

  Skirts gripped tightly in one hand, I felt for the hilts of my three knives tucked in my waistband and loosened my bullwhip around my waist. Not knowing what I’d find, I stepped before the open doorway and looked into the rotting house.