Day of the Hunt (The Faun Quartet Book 2)

by Chris J Edwards

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes! I guess Herace and his friends really can be useful.”

  “Unbelievable, isn’t it?”

  “Anyway. They said it was ironic, because now Safon leads the League of Southern Sea Ports. Even the ports that used to fight each other work together now. And they said Safon is the wealthiest because they have the most ships and trade exclusively in luxury goods. They offered me perfume as a gift, but I don’t think we have the room for it…”

  “I’m sure we could find a spot in my saddlebags.”

  “I hope so, I would love some Safonian perfume. Anyway, they said the other ports mostly trade in bulk, like grain and wine and things…”

  I grimaced. I knew what ‘bulk’ transport also meant; slaves. There was good money moving slaves along the coasts, around the Great Cape. But I didn’t tell Dawn; I didn’t want to ruin her wonderment.

  “… and I think when I get home, once I’m crowned queen, I’ll sign a trade deal with the League. It sounds like a good idea, at least that’s what they said. I’ll get some advisors to look it over. But what do you think, Ortham?”

  I had never heard her talk so much. She really was taken away by Safon.

  “Hm? What do I think? Well, there’s probably a lot that goes into a trade deal… I don’t really know. I’m just your personal battle-mage,” I said, nudging her with my elbow.

  “Yeah, right,” she laughed, nudging me back.

  The sun was gone. The water darkened in the bay; Op, the blue moon, glowed on the horizon. I hadn’t seen his face so large since the last time I was on the ocean. Op seemed to loom impossibly large upon the sea. Green-hued Ov soared high above, small and far away.

  As I was looking up, appreciating the clear night sky, I felt Dawn lean against me. A pleasant shiver ran up my spine. Her body was warm. I could smell her hair. I hesitated in that moment; she had shifted so subtly to touch me, and I didn’t even notice how close we had been standing for so long. I wanted to reach out, to put my arms around her waist…

  Someone knocked again at the door. Dawn pulled away from me abruptly and I nearly leapt off the balcony.

  “Who is it?” I called out as we both stepped in from the balcony, pretending like nothing happened.

  “Mister Ortham, the banquet is about to begin,” replied a muffled voice from the other side of the door. “The hosts would like to request your presence.”

  “Ah, of course. I will be down shortly, I’m just… changing my clothes.”

  “Yes, sir. Would you like your baggage brought in?”

  “No, it’s fine. I can do it myself.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  I listened to the sound of his footsteps. There was a muffled knock from down the hall. He must have been trying Dawn’s room.

  “I guess we should get going,” I said to Dawn, chuckling.

  She laughed and ran a hand through her hair.

  “Yes, we should. I’ll go make myself more presentable once the servant leaves…you should try to do the same. If you can.”

  “Sorry, princess. I’m afraid I’m stuck being this ugly.”

  “You know that’s not true,” Dawn laughed. “Or what I meant.”

  After a few moments she deemed it was safe to leave my room and go back to hers. I knew then that we wouldn’t mention this; any of it. We could never put words to it. There was a fluttering feeling in my stomach and I wasn’t trying to fight it off anymore and it made me feel dizzy and wonderful and uneasy all at the same time. I hoped she felt the same.

  I watched her as she slipped out my door, green summer dress floating behind. She left me with a mischievous little smile and a twinkle in her jade-green eyes.

  I sat back down on my bed and smiled and couldn’t stop.

  I hoped she felt the same.

  26

  Dawn

  I felt wonderful, amazing, and guilty all at once. We had been so close; I had felt him press against my back, felt his warmth. It made me giddy just thinking about it.

  I hoped he felt the same.

  It was so hard to tell – he could be so quiet, that far-away look in his dark eyes. It was like a pall of melancholy floated over him, sad and sweet at the same time. I recalled the night we spent on the slopes of the Bitter Frost Mountains, the story he told of his friend Sandy and the Black Cohort. We had been so close then, too. And in Lyrèlie’s garden… but then things changed, things always changed. And now things changed again – I think they were changing for good. I was happy – giddy! I caught myself giggling and my face was flush…

  But I had to ignore it for now. I needed to get ready for the banquet. We were already late!

  Waves of girlish ecstasy crashed against tides of royal guilt.

  But why should I feel guilty? I wasn’t in Céin Urthia anymore. It didn’t matter what I did, not right now. I was free. For the time being, at least. And why couldn’t I be with Ortham? It wasn’t morally wrong. Just not socially acceptable. I was a sylfolk princess, he was an ur-man commoner.

  If only I wasn’t a princess! Things would be so much different… then I could be with Ortham. I could be happy and free…

  But then again, I was a princess. Soon to be queen. I should be able to do whatever I want – no one was above me.

  I realized I was still just sitting on the side of my bed. I hadn’t even started to get ready. I jumped up and frantically went through the baggage they had brought up from the horses. There must be a way to look more formal than this…

  Part of me wished Perethon had never made such a scene at the city gates. We had been intending to travel discreetly, and I had certainly not brought any clothes to wear to a formal banquet in a foreign capital as an esteemed guest. But of course, Perethon had his reasons. It was far safer to be hosted here than to find a harbour inn. And, had I been discovered in Safon by anyone of import, the diplomatic repercussions would have been considerable. Not devastating, but considerable. A member of the Céin Urthian royal family finally emerging from their reclusive kingdom and not even bothering to make a courtesy visit? Preposterous! And now that I had met so many of the Safonian merchant-lords who ran the city, I saw how happy they were to meet me.

  And now that Safon headed this League of Southern Sea Ports, we could probably even open an embassy in Naraya. There were great possibilities on the horizon. I could make some serious changes.

  Not that I wanted to be queen. Because I didn’t. Freedom and the crown were incompatible.

  Or were they?

  I had only ever seen my parents rule – I had only ever seen the court in the Etala Chamber. Things must be different elsewhere. Maybe even better elsewhere. And if I was queen, couldn’t I change the way things are? Change them for the better?

  I looked at myself in the mirror. It was too dark to really evaluate how I looked; there were a few finely-crafted oil lamps on the wall, but I didn’t have time to light them. I was already late!

  I blew a strand of hair out of my face. It really didn’t matter how I looked, as long as I looked clean. None of these folks had ever seen a sylfolk princess; most had probably never even seen a sylfolk at all. How would they know how I was supposed to look?

  So I left my hair down and kept my breezy summer dress on. There was a shallow bowl of water next to the bed; I used it to wash my face and hands. It smelled faintly of lemon. I hoped it was meant for washing.

  I hurried out and closed the door behind me.

  Ortham was just outside, leaning against the wall. My heart fluttered again when I saw him. I don’t know what got into me; this was worse than the first night in Glenn Mereillon! And I couldn’t even blame fae magick anymore.

  He stood up straight as I appeared. He had changed his clothes at least; there were no more dirt-marks or scuffs. And he was wearing that floppy, broad-brim hat, as usual. Even indoors.

  “Expecting rain?” I joked.

  “What?”

 
“Your hat. It looks like you’re expecting rain.”

  “Oh. Very funny. I just figured I should wear it to make it more obvious that I’m a mage. You’re all so exotic and interesting, so I need something to help me fit in.”

  “Mages wear big floppy hats?” I asked. “I didn’t know that was common practice.”

  Ortham smirked and pulled the hat off his head. I laughed.

  “Well, I wear a big floppy hat, and I’m a mage. So it makes sense to me. Anyway, we’re late.”

  “You’re right. Let’s go!”

  And with that we hurried down the hall, then down the stairs, then back to the grand hall where we had first been greeted. And I was not ready for the fanfare that awaited me.

  I’m not sure what I had been expecting; I knew I was a little late. And I knew I was an honoured guest. But as soon as I stepped into that banquet hall, every voice stopped. Every folk present stood from the three long tables and looked to me.

  “Hail, Princess Dawn, heiress apparent of Céin Urthia!” cried a grey-haired ur-man, raising a polished goblet into the air.

  “HAIL!” replied an overwhelming chorus of voices.

  I watched as a sea of cups and goblets were raised into the air. A lone trumpet played a short tune, and at the end of it, everyone drank. Then the banquet hall exploded into noise, loud conversation and the clatter of utensils. And all the while I stood there, feeling rather awkward and out of place. My face felt hot but I did my best to remain calmly smiling. Not a big goofy grin with my teeth showing; something more respectable. A close-lipped smile, one that says I know something you don’t know.

  A short-haired elf stood up from the head table.

  “Princess Dawn. Please, come sit!” he called out above the din, motioning to two empty seats.

  I assumed the extra seat was for my ‘personal battle-mage.’ We made our way over and sat down.

  The head table was already well-spread; there was food of every sort, much of which I did not recognize. Servants came by and offered me dish after dish until I had to say no; there wasn’t even room on my plate.

  I looked down the head table. There were still a few empty seats. Which was a relief; that meant that not only was I not the last to arrive, but it also meant I was simply a guest of honour, not the guest of honour.

  And sure enough, moments later, we all stood again to hail a foreign diplomat. And when I went to take a sip of whatever was in my goblet I nearly spat it out. It burned; it tasted terrible. But I swallowed the mouthful anyway and sat back down. Ortham laughed at me.

  There were a handful more arrivals, each taking a seat at the head table. And of course, every time I took a drink from my polished goblet. When I sat down for the final time, my face was hot and I felt queasy.

  Ortham leaned over and looked into my goblet. It was practically empty. He looked up with surprise on his face.

  “Dawn! You drank all that?”

  I nodded and wiped my face with the back of my hand.

  “You have to be careful with that! You’re going to feel real sick if you’re not careful.”

  And was he ever right. I tried to eat some food, but every bite made me sicker. It felt like I was rocking in my seat. It took quite some time before the room stopped tilting.

  But once it passed, it passed. All that remained was a flushed face.

  Just as I bit into a piece of dense, black bread, the stately elf who had invited us over decided to strike up a conversation. I quickly chewed and swallowed.

  “Princess Dawn, might I begin by saying I am absolutely honoured to make your acquaintance,” he said, offering out his hand and dipping his head.

  I placed my hand in his and he kissed it.

  “My name is Corhym Braed, Lord of the Treasury.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Lord Braed,” I replied, withdrawing my hand.

  He reached across me to greet Ortham.

  “And to whom do I owe the pleasure…?”

  “Ortham. Mister Ortham. Pleased to meet you,” Ortham replied.

  “My personal battle-mage,” I interjected.

  “Ah, of course. I should have known by the hat… say, you wouldn’t mind telling me the name of the college you attended, would you, Mister Ortham?”

  “Auvale,” he quickly responded, before burying his face in his goblet.

  “Oh, really?” said Corhym Braed, leaning back in his seat, seeming quite pleased. “Was this very long before the college reformed as the Black Cohort?”

  Ortham set his goblet down.

  “During.”

  Corhym Braed looked to me with a cunning smile.

  “My, quite the personal battle-mage. You have no idea how much we had to spend just to hire a small contingent of their agents during the war. The five hundred troops they brought with them were almost cheaper!”

  “You hired the Black Cohort?”

  “Indeed we did,” he nodded. “Just ten agents. Full fledged agents, mind you; no grey acolytes. They subcontracted five hundred troops in addition. We needed everything we could get, and they certainly paid dividends… Say, how much does Mister Ortham cost you monthly? Is it just for the journey? If you don’t mind me asking, of course…”

  “Uh, no, it’s not just for the journey. It’s… for an undetermined amount of time,” I said, casting a conspiratorial glance at Ortham, who was taking another sip from his goblet.

  “A very long time,” Ortham chimed in. “Free of cost. I don’t fight for money anymore.”

  Ortham’s words made my heart swell. A very long time… I hoped so.

  “Ah, how noble of you,” Corhym Braed intoned, evidently quite surprised.

  He took a sip of his own goblet before continuing.

  “Now, your highness, I’ve been told my fellow lords-merchant briefly discussed a trade proposal with you, among other things…”

  “They did,” I replied. “They also discussed installing an embassy in Naraya on behalf of the League of Southern Sea Ports.”

  “How excellent! I hope you have had a moment to consider such advancements? The benefits would be far-reaching indeed.”

  “I’ve considered it. And I personally see it as a great opportunity. However, it will take some time to gather support from the Etala Chamber. The issue with my father’s confederation was that it turned petty lords into pettier princes, and they all get a say… and of course, I would be remiss if I did not put together an advisory commission on the subject,” I said, mustering all my capacity for court-speak. “But for now, be confident you have my avid support.”

  Corhym Braed clasped his hands together and smiled.

  “A wise choice, your highness. A very wise choice. Safon still remembers the wisdom of your father during the final war of the ports; I can see it runs in your bloodline.”

  I accepted his compliment and continued to eat conservatively. Then something popped into my head.

  “Lord Braed, I was just thinking – perhaps you would be able to direct me to a harbour official? I’m planning to sail east.”

  “East? How far east? It shouldn’t be hard to find a ship in Safon, of all places.”

  “Just along the coast until we can turn north up the Vindayan riverways. We’re travelling to Valethucia,” I explained.

  Corhym Braed whistled.

  “Valethucia? That’s a long ways from here. But it would be my pleasure to connect you with a merchant who trades with Vindayan river traffic,” he said. “In fact, I could probably do even better. If you would please excuse me…”

  With that he got up and walked to another table. I took another bite of bread. If we could sort out a ship tonight, that would make tomorrow much easier.

  As the night carried on the guests became less attached to their seats. I soon found myself standing too; folk mixed and wandered the long tables, conversing and drinking. More and more lords-merchant came by to greet me, all bowing and kissing my hand as they did. I noticed that
most present at the banquet were lords-merchant; they formed an aristocratic class all their own.

  But it wasn’t just lords-merchant; nor was it just Safonian. There were ambassadors from other lands, merchants from neighbouring ports, even a pair of elvish princes from a far-off dale kingdom.

  At some point that night the servants rearranged the hall, pushing the central table off to form a hollow square. A troupe of musicians began playing a hearty tune, pipes and strings and drums. I watched as folk took up partners and performed an entirely foreign dance, all synchronized. Robes and dresses swept along the marble floor; dancers spun and spun and spun. Just watching them made me dizzy. And I was already dizzy.

  Corhym Braed appeared suddenly at my side.

  “Princess Dawn, I have good news for you.”

  “Oh? Please, do tell.”

  “Do you see that fellow over there?” he asked, pointing to a gaggle of finely-dressed folk.

  I had no idea which one he was referring to, but I nodded all the same.

  “Well, he is the harbourmaster. He keeps track of all incoming and outgoing vessels. And he told me there’s a barque scheduled to leave two days hence, headed to the Sperevus Delta, and that it will have more than enough room for you and your escort.”

  “That’s wonderful!”

  “And that isn’t even the best of it, your highness. He said that, as an act of good faith, the harbour authority would be delighted to pay the cost of the voyage.”

  “Oh, that is far too generous! I cannot allow them to pay…”

  “No, no! They insist. In fact, I insist. For his budget comes from the Safonian Treasury, and I am, after all, Lord of the Treasury,” he beamed.

  I thanked him profusely and he politely accepted my thanks.

  “Now, may I propose we dance?” he asked.

  “Oh, no – I don’t think I can. Honestly,” I stammered.

  “I take no offense at your refusal,” he said kindly. “But are you sure? It’s really quite easy.”

  I looked out to the folk dancing. They did seem to be having a lot of fun. I scanned the crowds and saw Ortham and Herace engaged in a lively conversation with a group of martial-looking Safonians. And among the dancers, to my amusement, I saw Maeral and Tibaron dancing together, spinning like whirligigs in a spring wind.