“Agree to disagree,” Carmine said flippantly. “You see, the difference is that as a Dragoon, weak trainees are killed long before they can be tested on any battlefield. The weakest of you is already stronger than most normal people.”
Rune's silence was somber. She must have struck him with some truth.
“How do you know that?” Kyle asked her.
Carmine delivered him a beautiful smile. “I read, love. On long voyages, what else is there to do but skim through those long volumes that the Historians insist on dumping upon all of us?” She swung her long legs down from the day bed, and stretched, standing. “I'm not intending to be contrary, mind, just cautious. Better to leave fighting to the fighters, lest the sweet find themselves in an early grave.”
As fate would have it, she'd won the final word.
Professor Block ambled into the antechamber. His brown suit and burgundy vest made him look every bit the part of the history teacher I'd known for most of my life. Thanks to Kyle's impressive Ability, the wounds that had been inflicted on him during Prince Raserion's interrogations were seamlessly healed. He didn't so much as limp.
But the mind scars more easily than the body, and Block was interrogated and tortured for months… on Prince Raserion's order.
I was keenly aware of the weight in my pocket, the faceless timepiece resting snug inside. Standing beside Professor Block, I felt guilty for possessing it. Guilty for entertaining the thought of helping the self-proclaimed misunderstood Prince Raserion. Gravity, I was in trouble.
“Miss Rush, return the yard stick to its proper place. There's been a change of plans.”
Chapter 9: Calculating Maneuvers
We crossed the sprawling expanse of Breakwater's Black Harbor, tugging our coats close against the chill morning air. To my astonishment, the dark docks were mostly empty. The tall ebony posts that had once moored in dozens of behemoth ships were like the stumps of a charred forest and insinuated the same vacant desolation. Perhaps the other boats were out on their trade routes. A ship couldn't remain at port forever. I only counted three open ocean vessels, and one of them was clearly in disrepair. Only the Flying Fish mattered to me. She was smaller than the other boats by a hundred feet, but she glistened like an amber gemstone amid her few rusted iron neighbors.
Carmine stopped short of the gangway that connected our ship to the dock and we all clustered behind her. “What is this?” she demanded.
A dozen dockworkers, their ranks peppered with a handful of brown-uniformed militia soldiers, were streaming out of the forward cabins and aft cargo hold.
Carmine stomped aboard first. “Where is Lord Axton?”
“Just here.” But it wasn't Brendon who swaggered from the cabins with the last of the men. It was Dylan.
Clad in raiment of immaculate fashion, he looked more like the dashing young noble I'd met a year ago than the haggard and disgruntled one I'd traveled with so recently. He wore a formfitting trench coat with a folded collar and elegantly patterned cuffs. The front was fastened three inches apart with buttons and chains, displaying a blue-gray brocade waistcoat. Long blond hair brushed his shoulders, and his hazel eyes shone with confidence.
Fine clothes couldn't change the nature of a person. I was prepared for the worst.
“Thank you for your fine work, good fellows,” Dylan said to the soldiers and dockworkers. “You are dismissed.”
“Yes, sir,” many of the men said, and followed his orders with respectful compliance.
Carmine’s tone hardened. “I was referring to the Common-Lord, not his baby brother.”
We filed onto the ship, passing the disembarking workers shoulder-to-shoulder. “Not a good way to start,” I warned her, but it was too late.
“Baby, is it?” Dylan asked, smiling in a way that could stop a girl's heart from beating. “Why pilot, I didn't know we'd come to pet names so soon. Very well, Darling. I'm the only Axton aboard.”
“Don't talk to her like that,” Kyle bristled.
“Your arrogance knows no bounds.” Carmine put her hands on her waist. “What were they doing on my ship?”
“Outfitting your toy boat with supplies.” Dylan was not at all ruffled by our pilot's irritation. “Darling, you really shouldn't frown that way. You'll destroy that pretty face of yours.”
“Oh, I'll destroy a pretty face.” Carmine's words dripped venom. “But it won't be mine.”
That only made Dylan laugh. I related all too well to Carmine's fury.
“Enough of this,” Professor Block said, moving to stand between them. He held up the letter in his hand, signed and sealed by Lord Brendon. “We were told to come here.”
A voice came from behind us. “Yes. Indeed, you were.”
All of the militia soldiers and dockworkers had dispersed. One man strode up the ramp to our ship. A heavy hood draped over his head, wrapped about his shoulders, and trailed two long strips of cloth that brushed the ground. He wore practical, nondescript clothes that would easily pass him off as fisher or farmer. His shoulders were broad, and his footfalls heavy.
Once aboard, he pulled his thick wool shroud back far enough that we could see his face. It was the Common-Lord of Breakwater, himself.
Rune straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin, standing at attention in the Common-Lord's presence.
“Forgive my tardiness, I was regrettably detained,” Brendon Axton said. “Brother, thank you for arranging the labor. Were there any problems in supplying the ship?”
Dylan made eye contact with Carmine. “None that I couldn't handle.”
Her fists clenched and I could tell that she wanted to hit him. I put a hand on her arm, and she looked at me sharply. I shook my head slowly and watched her breathe out some of her anger.
Lord Brendon looked between the six of us, his square jaw set. “I know that this is not standard custom and it may seem in poor taste, but we have no time for pleasantries and even less for precautions at the keep. Trust cannot be guarded by friendship alone and I'm not fool enough to believe that all of my subjects are beyond selling information to our Prince.”
Or making promises in order to save their own skins.
My stomach rolled, and not from the gently bobbing ship. It wasn't supposed to be like this. We were the good guys, and I felt like a villain by association, like a wolf lurking in the brush. This wasn't me.
Rune nodded once. “Understood.”
Beside me, Ruby was nodding, but I could tell by her expression that she didn't understand why he couldn't trust his own people. She had a lot to learn about this place. We were raised to believe that loyalty was standard. I'd found out the hard way that it wasn't the case. Not here... not even in Haven.
“You already know what I require of you,” Brendon continued. The wind blew his hood back from his face, and I could see his short, wheat hair and the stubble on his cheeks. Though simple in their design, his clothes were unstained, and he himself smelled faintly of soap. Even fresh and clean, I could see that the man was exhausted. Early wrinkles creased his sun-weathered forehead, lines of sleeplessness looped below his eyes. Despite his physical appearance, he didn't show a single moment of weakness. He was alert, attentive and focused. “I have received word that Cape Hill is rioting. If not for such destructive turmoil in our region’s capital, the Prince’s ships would likely be upon us this very instant. We cannot rely on distractions and luck forever. Nothing is more important than the speed with which you accomplish your task.”
“All of our lives depend on it,” Dylan chimed in, moving to stand beside his brother. Their choices in attire were as starkly different as their demeanors.
Dylan was prettier than most girls and that won him excessive attention, but I knew better. He still harbored a bitterness toward life and a hatred for me. He'd drained the Dragoon, Leila March, and became an unwilling Commander. Even after everything we'd been through, I was sure he'd always blame me for his year of imprisonment.
Brendon, on the other hand, had
proven himself to be fair, loyal, and grounded by earnest responsibility. He wasn't especially handsome and his moods leaned towards taciturn, but his quality of character outweighed any single flaw. Without his help, I would have never rescued Professor Block, I wouldn't have found Rune again, and I wouldn't have even made it home to Haven in the first place.
I owed him, even if I did help him keep Dylan on track.
In the gentle morning light, the mast grew a shadow, and I found myself staring at it distrustfully.
If I help Prince Raserion, what will happen to Lord Brendon and Breakwater? If I don't, what will happen to me?
My skin crawled.
“As you know, this ship has been outfitted with supplies. Pilot Rousseau will ferry you to Caraway, the capital in the North. You are an envoy of peace. Remember that as you travel through the Northern Kingdom. Avoid interaction with citizens there. Confrontations are likely if they discover you've come from the West.”
Carmine nodded, resting her thumbs in her pockets. “That won't be a problem.”
“When you arrive at the Caraway harbor, fetch a courier from the marina and have them deliver this letter to Prince Varion.” Brendon produced a wide envelope with a wax seal and handed it to me. “If he accepts an audience, his men will send for you. Miss Kestrel, you and your countrymen may go and plead our case. We are looking for protection only, and we can bargain for it with trade, information and strategic posts on our borders. I'll not send my own men away from their homes to fight for the North. Further action can be negotiated if basic terms are accepted.”
“Okay,” I said, holding the piece of paper in a death-grip. It fluttered against the breeze, but the wind had no chance of stealing it from me. Not today.
Don't look so suspicious.
I folded my lips together.
Lord Brendon cracked his gloved knuckles, one after another, in a habitual way. “If the prince agrees to the first phase, send for Dylan.”
Dylan took this as a joke and laughed airily. “Right. Prepare to wait a week or three. Maybe four, if I'm busy.”
Brendon eyed his younger brother with the severity of a falling hammer.
“Oh, come on!” Dylan cried out. “You have to be joking! I've been good. I've done everything you've asked of me!”
The Common-Lord rounded on his younger brother. “Enough! Do you think I want to send you there? Do you think I wanted any of this? Life isn't fair. Now, use your brain! Think!”
Dylan's tantrum was refreshingly short-lived. He waved off Brendon and paced in a circle. “I'm part of the bargain. You're sending me as collateral, a ward, essentially a hostage of good will. By giving them your own brother, you're showing them that this is no trick. You really mean for peace.” He sighed. “Bloody hell. I understand. I understand it perfectly. And if all goes well, I stay there indefinitely. Congratulations, you'll have finally found a way to be rid of me without killing me.”
“Don't be childish,” Brendon snapped. “We all have rolls to fulfill, and none of us are in it for pleasure. When Prince Varion has built sufficient outposts around Breakwater, you'll be returned.”
“Overjoyed,” Dylan snorted, then backpedaled. “Fine, fine. I'll do it. I'm doing it.”
“Of course you will. Your things have already been stowed aboard with the rest.” Brendon pivoted to face us again. “Thayer. It wasn't an easy conclusion, but I think you'd better travel with the Flying Fish. As much as I'd be glad to have your skills available to me in Breakwater, I'm afraid you'd attract too much unwanted attention to yourself. No one has ever heard of a Dragoon defector who lived longer than an hour. Best that you go with Kestrel.”
I wondered if Rune was relieved that we'd be sticking together for once. You couldn't see it by looking at him. “Yes, sir.”
“Whatever happens, remember, the two of you stay on the boat until you're sent for. You may be a defector, Thayer, but you were still a Dragoon and that will make you twice the enemy. The same goes for you, Dylan. Behave, and they'll have no reason to learn of your secret. And brother, if you use the Command in the North, they will kill you. Without hesitation. Your life is in your own hands.”
Dylan swallowed, and I could see the apple bob in his throat.
“One thing,” I said, fidgeting with the paper in my hands. When I'd met him, Prince Raserion didn't say anything about Breakwater stealing their children back. He'd known that Rune had survived and escaped. That Hest and Sterling were dead. Wouldn't he have mentioned Breakwater? Added it to the mix if he'd known? No, I figured Lord Brendon still had time. But what about my home? What if he lied about not wanting to invade? What if I failed to help him find Varion?
“Raserion... the prince, he knows how to get to us.” The double meaning in my statement was accidental. He certainly knew how to get to me. “Haven needs to be warned.”
Brendon's brown eyes were honest, but they were shrewd too. “Tell me the way, and I will send a messenger.”
“No,” I said reflexively.
The Common-Lord frowned. “I'm sorry, Katelyn, you are essential for this voyage. You have two powerful Abilities to aid you in proving that you are a Lodestone. If the North hears you out, they'll find that you truly are neutral. They're unlikely to risk war with your people.”
“I wouldn't take long. Just let me tell them what's happening here. I'd come back right away.”
“I know that you would, but we simply don't have the time. Raserion...”
To my shame, I interrupted him. “Doesn't know that the children of Penalty were returned.”
Vexation rolled off of him. “How do you know that? Conjecture? Hope?”
What could I say? Don't worry, I spoke with him last night and he didn't mention you?
I faltered.
“Really, Miss Kestrel, I thought you'd overcome your naiveté by now.” His disappointment wounded me. Brendon was a good man and a better leader. I'd come to respect him a great deal. And I couldn't tell him the truth.
“I'll go,” Professor Block said, breaking his long silence. “I work with the Historical Society. Sandra Loring, sent you looking for me. They want to know what I've learned. As unfair as it is, they'd be more likely to listen to an adult than a teenager with a penchant for troublemaking. No offense.”
I was only a little offended. Professor Berry Block had once been a troublemaking teenager like me. “None taken. Professor, I'm sorry, but you're not exactly in the position to take the high-road here.”
Kyle backed me up. “You're the one who sent Eddie Elm back to Haven with a death wish. How do we know you won't just do what he did?”
“What they…” Professor Block looked down at his feet and began to blink rapidly. “What they did to me. I said things I didn't think I was capable of saying. I thought things–” There were tears in his eyes. “I thought I was alone in this fight. I was wrong. All of this is my responsibility. Please, let me make it right.”
Kyle was uneasy. “Look, Professor, I believe you, but an apology just isn't enough after what you did. You can't go back to Haven alone. You don't even know the way.”
“I'll go,” Ruby said meekly at first. When our eyes met, she nodded definitively. “I'll go with him.”
“But–” I tried to speak, but she wouldn't let me.
“Kyle's Abilities could save your life, Kat, he should stay with you. I don't even know if I have any. What if my parents had the color of my eyes changed to match everyone’s when I was born? I might just be normal, and we all know I'm not any kind of fighter.” Her laugh was shallow and it pained me. “I need to see Sterling's family, and tell them what happened. They deserve to know. And... the Lurchers will follow our commands, right? If I can get a litter, I can make them pull him most of the way. Then it's just a winch and some rope... we could get him home.”
I frowned. It was a noble notion to return our friend's body to Haven. I'm sure it would help his family with closure, but hefting your dead boyfriend over rough terrain. The emotional scars wou
ld last a lifetime. “Ruby, I don't think–”
“Now isn't the time to... to wilt aside or hide from what frightens us. I'm not a coward,” she told me firmly, her voice cracking. “Sterling is dead, and if we don't do something, we'll all be dead too! If we can get his body back home, we won't just have Professor Block's word as a warning. We'll have physical proof of what Prince Raserion is capable of. We need to do this.”
“Ru...” Kyle said, smiling sadly. He pulled her in by the shoulder, hugged her from the side, and planted a platonic kiss on the top of her head. She was rigid and wouldn't look any of us in the eye.
Block cleared his throat and pulled a hand down over his mustache and goatee. “We can do it, if we have the supplies.”
Lord Brendon's tone was sober and respectful. “That shouldn't be a problem. I'll give you what materials you require. Make sure to represent Breakwater's offering of peace when you speak to your people. I'm not here to multiply our enemies.”
“We’ll tell them, Lord Axton,” Ruby promised.
“You can count on us, I swear it,” Professor Block said.
My best friend had transformed before my eyes. She wasn't the shy girl who cowered in the face of change. The worst kind of tragedy had made her a better person. Like Brendon said, it wasn't fair, but it was life, and I was proud of her. I felt lucky to have known her all this time.
I noticed Dylan watching Ruby. There wasn't any flirtation in his body language, no pomp or attitude. A true rarity, he actually seemed sympathetic. Whether he was sincere or not, my protectiveness flared. This was yet another reason that it was better she didn't come with us. I didn't want to have to kill Dylan.
“It's settled then. The two of you can return with me to the keep and I'll see that you’re well equipped to return your friend home. Pilot, you may set course now.”
“Aye. Humbly yours, so long as I get paid,” Carmine said smoothly.
“Your compensation will go unchanged for this final journey,” Brendon promised.
Monarch (War of the Princes Book 3) Page 5