Peter shook his head. Without meeting Farrell’s gaze, he picked up his other boot. After waiting for his friend to look up, Farrell sat next to him on the bed. “Want to talk about it?”
“You’re sending me home, aren’t you?”
“I’m not sending you away. I’m doing what your father requested.”
“You could tell him no.”
“No, Peter, I can’t. You know that.” He put his arm around his friend’s shoulder. “What’s bothering you? And don’t say nothing because I already know it’s something.”
“I don’t want to go back to Belsport. I’d rather stay with you and Miceral.”
“Ah.” Farrell nodded while he struggled to find the best way to respond. Before he could add anything more, Peter moved away.
“You’re mad.”
“No, I’m not mad, I—”
“You don’t want me around, do you?” The hurt in the teen’s voice tugged at Farrell’s emotions.
“That’s not true. You’ve been a good friend and traveling companion. But I don’t get to decide. Your father isn’t just an ally. He’s also a friend. We agreed from the start of this journey we’d send you home when we reached Dumbarten.” When Peter tossed his boot down and moved to look out the window, Farrell joined him. “How can I tell him I’m keeping his son and heir?”
“Tell him I don’t want to go back.”
“It isn’t my place to tell him you wish to stay.” Farrell gave Peter some time to work through what he’d said.
“I’m dressed.” Miceral’s voice made him jump.
“Give me a few moments. Peter doesn’t want to go back to Belsport.”
“We assumed he’d say that, but did he say why not?”
“I’m still trying to get him to tell me that.”
Peter kept silent, so Farrell did likewise. It made sense to send Peter home before they continued their search for Kel. Especially since Farrell had no idea where he needed to go next. Peter hadn’t been a burden on board the Rose, but even in the middle of the ocean, it hadn’t been safe. On land there’d be more opportunity for Meglar and his allies to attack them. Despite that, he still felt his friend’s pain.
“Why don’t you want to go home?”
“I like being with you and Miceral. You treat me like a friend, not a child.”
Farrell smiled. “You are a friend, Peter, but parents will always treat their children differently. Even when they’re not children anymore.”
“I know, but in Belsport I have to watch what I say and how I act. Guards follow me everywhere—even the bathing chamber, though at least they stay outside. I have no real friends, only people who think it’s useful to be around me. I like being just Peter around you and Miceral.”
Farrell sympathized. He’d long tried to avoid the formalities of court. “I wish I could offer you some hope, but you know from being in the Citadel, it will only get worse when you are on the throne.”
“You and Miceral aren’t stifled like that.” Peter picked up his boot and plopped down on the bed.
“That’s true, but our situation is unique. The Muchari don’t stand on formality, probably because they serve the peregrines and unicorns. And wizards respect ability, not a title.”
“But you’re also a prince.”
“In name only. Haven isn’t a true kingdom, so my role isn’t as defined as it would be if I were king of Yar-del.” He left out how much he shirked his duty. Peter wouldn’t have the same ability to turn over his responsibilities.
“I’d still rather stay here.” Peter pulled on his other boot with a sharp tug. “But I understand you can’t tell my father no.”
“I wish I could give you a better answer, but if you can convince your father to let you stay, I’ll tell him we have no objections.” At least, he hoped Miceral wouldn’t object.
Farrell didn’t want to see Peter’s reaction, so he moved to a blank spot on the wall and pulled his staff from his back. When he locked in the last point of the Door, he focused on the royal library in Belsport and pushed out with his will.
The inky-black space shimmered and was replaced with the book-filled room. A haggard-looking Wilhelm stood behind a tall chair pushed under the table. Darius sat near a small fireplace, cradling a mug in his hands.
Farrell started to move forward, but Wilhelm held up a hand and walked toward them. “I’ll come to you.”
Darius rose slowly and followed the prince into the small bedroom.
“Hello, son.” Wilhelm’s smile washed much of the tension from his face. “You look well.”
Peter bowed. “Thank you, Father.”
“Come,” Farrell said, pointing to the rest of the suite. “The sitting room is more comfortable.”
They met Miceral on the way. He greeted their guests during the walk.
Wilhelm stood in front of his son. “It’s so good to see you. You’ve filled out some while you’ve been gone. Grown a bit, too, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Miceral and Farrell made me practice every morning and work with the crew in the afternoon.” Peter’s eyes twinkled as he looked over his father’s shoulder. “Miceral, however, says you need to hire a better weapons master. He doesn’t think much of my previous masters.”
“Is that right?” Wilhelm laughed. “First time a mercenary told me what to do and remained in my employ.” He winked conspiratorially at his son as he spoke.
“But I’m no ordinary mercenary, am I?” Miceral bowed foppishly. “Your Majesty.”
Miceral’s antics lightened the mood for everyone.
“Incorrigible.” Wilhelm turned to his chief wizard. “What was I thinking, sending my only son on his coming-of-age voyage with these two overgrown children?”
“It was the best option available.” Darius shrugged. “Had I more time, I could have found more suitable guards.”
“Unlikely. Not for the fee you paid us.” Farrell waited for them to challenge him. Hearing nothing, he said, “Despite our obvious shortcomings, we are returning a more worldly and confident prince than you entrusted to our care. You will be pleased by how he’s handled himself.”
“I’m not surprised. He is my son, after all. I never doubted he’d impress you.”
Peter shifted his weight and peered down at his boot. “Father, did you really come all this way just to trade barbs with the hired help?”
Darius and Miceral joined Wilhelm in laughing, while Farrell glared at his friend. His look had no effect on Peter.
Wilhelm rubbed his son’s head. “No, son, I did not. First, I want to let you know how proud I was to hear of your actions on the Seafoam Rose. No father could ask for a finer son.”
Under his father’s praise, Peter blushed. Wilhelm’s eyes looked moist, and his expression became serious. “Sadly, my real purpose is to share some disturbing news. As you suspected, Farrell, Meglar enlisted the services of one of my neighboring princes. That dung-for-brains Garreth has visions of ruling all the free cities of the west.”
Farrell frowned. “No doubt those dreams were provided by Meglar and his wizards.”
“No, I suspect he and the other princes all harbor such dreams. Meglar merely gave him the means to act on his desire.”
Wilhelm explained how two days ago, Prince Garreth of Vilencia launched a surprise attack on his southern neighbor, Therssen. None of Meglar’s mindless Chamdon were spotted among Garreth’s forces, but he had powerful magic no one expected. The swiftness and ferocity of the attack completely overwhelmed Therssen in a single day. Prince Erick managed to escape Therssen along with some of his navy and sent warnings up and down the coast.
“Our aid won’t reach Dagur before Garreth’s army.” Wilhelm’s voice held more defeat than his words. “Prince Saulmen is readying for an attack, but if Garreth hits him with the same force as he used in Therssen, Dagur won’t survive long enough for our reinforcements to arrive.”
“If Dagur falls, what will you do?” Miceral asked.
“We’re going to make a stand
at Hamble.” Darius looked at Wilhelm, who nodded. “Our greatest need is wizards. We have no idea what Garreth is doing, but Prince Erick said his wizards were swept aside.”
Farrell understood why Wilhelm needed to speak with him immediately. “You want my help.”
“In a word, yes,” Wilhelm said.
His first instinct was to agree, but he held back. “I can’t abandon what I’m doing. It’s too important, more now than ever.”
Wilhelm gave him a confused look. “Now? What happened since you left Belsport?”
The idea of explaining his utter defeat at Meglar’s hands stole Farrell’s voice. He gave Miceral a pleading look.
“Meglar found a way to incapacitate Farrell using one of Kel’s spells. Now Farrell needs to find Kel to learn what else he can expect.”
Darius sat up in his chair. “You fought Meglar? When?”
“No, not Meglar.” Farrell breathed out loudly. “Meglar gave a pirate—a nonwizard pirate—a weapon. Without going into too much detail, it was targeted for me. According to Father Gedrin, who got his information from Cylinda, Kel devised a spell that uses a wizard’s energy to penetrate their shields. He piggybacked onto that spell another one that traps the wizard in his own mind. If help hadn’t arrived, I’d have died for sure.”
“Help? Who else was on the Rose?” Wilhelm searched from Miceral to Farrell to Peter. “I thought you were the only wizard on board.”
“Wilhelm . . .” Farrell forced himself to calm down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just I’d rather not talk about that right now.”
“It’s not a good topic.” Miceral put a hand gently on Farrell’s back.
“We can talk about what happened another time.”
Darius and Wilhelm exchanged glances but neither protested.
“Besides, we need to get to Haven so we can send you some assistance.”
“Wait.” Wilhelm held out his hand when Farrell started to walk toward the Door. “There’s more. The attack on Therssen isn’t why I requested to speak with you. I could easily have sent that in a message. This isn’t widely known, but last night someone attempted to assassinate Alicia and myself. Fortunately, we were on alert following Garreth’s attack. If we hadn’t been, Darius isn’t sure he and the wizard constable would have spotted it in time.”
“So either Garreth moved too soon or the assassin waited too long,” Miceral said.
“Probably the latter, if I had to guess.” Darius sounded as tired as he looked.
Farrell saw the fear in Peter’s face and remembered the day his mother and Heminaltose set out to confront Meglar. “You want Peter close so you can guard him, I assume.”
“No.” Wilhelm moved behind his son and grabbed his shoulders. “I want him to stay with you and Miceral until we figure out who is behind this. Naturally, we assume Meglar is ultimately the puppet master, but we don’t know who is doing the dirty work. Keeping Peter far from Belsport makes sense while we ferret out the bastard.”
Farrell mulled his friend’s words before answering. “You do realize what I’m about to do may be even more hazardous to Peter than returning to Belsport or better still, residing at Haven.”
“Yes, I understand. I want to send Alicia to live at Haven. Under different circumstances that would have delighted both her and her would-be suitor, Prince Jursten, beyond words, but she doesn’t want to leave me.”
“She’ll be safe there.” Farrell left out, “. . . at least until Meglar shows up.
“I know. But her living at Haven means I want Peter somewhere else. When I sent him off, I felt he was safer with you two than with anyone else. I still feel that way. And he looks up to and respects you both. I’m confident he would rather stay with you two than go anywhere else if he can’t come home.”
Peter faced his father. His look of fear had grown the more his father spoke. “Father, I’m ashamed to say I spent the last ten minutes before you arrived trying to convince Farrell to ask you to let me stay with them. I never thought to ask if I was needed back home.”
“Peter.” Wilhelm tilted his chin up. “This was supposed to be your coming-of-age trip. Your last big adventure before your duty to Belsport forced you to be responsible instead of carefree. I sent you with Farrell and Miceral for many reasons. Your safety was but one of them. They are excellent role models for you, and they are true friends. I wanted you to learn from them and forge friendships to last a lifetime. Had you asked and had they agreed, I’d have let you stay with them as long as they felt safe.
“Now I must ask you to stay with them, not only for your safety, but for the good of Belsport. Separated as we are, you, your sister, and I will ensure our city will not be leaderless even if one of us should fall. It’s a lot to ask of you, but I know you are strong and understand your duty. I said before, I couldn’t be prouder of you if I tried. You will be a great ruler, but even more, you will be a good man.”
Farrell watched them hug and let them have their moment. When they moved apart, he cleared his throat. “We will, of course, let Peter stay with us during this crisis, but Miceral and I reserve the right to send Peter to Haven if we think things become too dangerous.”
“Thank you. It is a comfort to know he is with you two if people are trying to kill my family and me.” Wilhelm turned back to Peter. “Son, I apologize for not consulting you first, but I truly believe you are safer with Farrell and Miceral than back at Belsport. Hopefully this won’t be for very long.”
Peter gave his father a quick but forceful nod of understanding. “Make sure you keep safe, Father.”
“I will.”
“Let me take you and Darius to Haven.” Farrell motioned toward Peter’s room, where his Door remained active. “I want to speak to Erstad and Cylinda to arrange what assistance we can provide.”
“Don’t be long, Farrell. We’re supposed to meet with Markus and Penelope before dinner.” Miceral kissed Farrell quickly before he let him leave.
“No promises. I might need to locate a few weapons I want to give Darius and the others before I come back. That might take a bit of time.”
Without waiting for an answer, Farrell redirected the Door to Haven. He knew it wouldn’t take long to arrange things, but he had plans to speak to Cylinda before he came back to Dumbarten. That might take a bit longer.
Chapter Twenty-Four
FARRELL RETURNED to find Miceral pacing their suite.
“What happened? You were gone almost an hour.”
“Cylinda left Haven, and no one could tell me when or to where.” He still didn’t like the lack of information. “But Erstad promised to get word to her—how, he wouldn’t say. After that discussion, I stopped by my workroom so I could find a few weapons to send back with Darius.”
“You look tired.” Miceral slipped behind him and kneaded Farrell’s shoulders. “Should we cancel dinner?”
“No, I don’t think we can without offending the king.”
“Markus doesn’t seem the type to find slights where none were intended.”
Farrell let Miceral continue for a few more seconds before he turned around to give his partner a kiss. “This isn’t about a slight. He’s going to be eager to hear more about what I found in Kel’s room.”
“But you don’t know any more.”
“True, but that won’t matter to them.” He grabbed Miceral’s hand and led him back to their room. “Let me find suitable clothing for dinner.”
The knock on the door stopped them a few feet from their room. “I forgot, Penelope sent word she and Marisa would stop by to take us to the king. That must be them.”
“Stall for a minute. I just need a clean tunic.” Farrell went to their room and heard footsteps behind him. Peter stood at the foot of the bed. “Welcome back.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“You sound disappointed.” Farrell pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. With a thought, he sent it into his saddlebag with a flash.
“N
ice trick.” Peter sat in a plush, blue-velvet upholstered chair. “I’m not disappointed, just confused. I wanted to stay, but now that I am, I want to be back in Belsport with my father.”
“Totally understandable that you want to be there to help.” Farrell pulled out two shirts, a blue and a tan one, and held them up. “Which one?”
“Are you joking?” Peter closed one eye and tilted his head. “I have no fashion sense at all. A fact my sister gets endless leagues of enjoyment from.”
“Blue,” Miceral said from the doorway. “It gives you more color.”
Holding the blue shirt to his chest first, then the tan, Farrell showed them to Peter, who shrugged. “They both look fine to me.”
“Well, then, blue it is.” He sent the unused shirt floating back to the small chest he and Miceral shared.
“Don’t you ever do things the normal way?” Miceral walked over and shut the chest.
“That is how I normally do things.” He winked at Peter and put on the shirt. “Do you really want me to change?”
“Not a single thing.” He wrapped his arms around Farrell’s waist and pulled him closer. “I love you just as you are.”
“Time for me to leave before I get sick.” Peter hopped off the bed.
“Did you tell them about Dagur and the attempt on Wilhelm’s life?” Reaching into his endless pocket, Farrell retrieved the simple gold crown he wore as Haven’s prince.
“No. I thought we’d do it when we met for dinner.”
Farrell frowned. “This is going to be a cheery and uplifting dinner.”
“I’d be surprised if members didn’t send word back to the Order about Dagur, but I doubt they know about the attack on Wilhelm. We need to tell Markus to be sure.”
“True.” Farrell sighed and stared at the crown. “I thought about wearing the Yar-del crown, but there are too many servants to be sure no one will talk.”
“No need to justify it to me.” Miceral gently turned him around and took a step back. Farrell handed him the crown and let Miceral adjust the gold circlet. “You look handsome either way.”
“Somehow I don’t think anyone cares if I’m handsome.”
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