The following day started like all the others—with breakfast in Garrett’s cabin with Shay and Garrett. Kest had flown away with the sunrise, back to the castle and his duties there. He completed one wide, lazy loop around the main mast of the ship and released a sharp cry before heading in the direction of home.
With the ship docked, only a skeleton crew was needed to oversee operations, and the rest of the sailors were off spending their coin in the port.
“Today we tour the city,” Shay said with an encouraging smile. “We’ll spend tonight here, and then tomorrow we’ll take a carriage inland.”
Tal waved his spoon. “Whatever.”
“That’s the spirit!” Garrett said, slapping Tal on the shoulder. “We’ll tour the town and find a good tavern to spend our evening.”
Tal hid a twinge as Dara’s accusations echoed in his hears. They stung, but they did give him an idea. “There’s a sickness in the lower town.”
“Then we’ll stay away from the lower town.”
“What? No,” Tal said, shaking his head. “We should do something about it. It’s a lung condition. There are some ingredients that treat the symptoms. We should buy them and hand them out.”
Shay’s eyebrows rose. “That’s how you want to spend your day?”
“Yes,” Tal said with an authoritative nod. “Yes. That is how I want to spend my day.”
Shay and Garrett shared a glance. “Okay, then. If you’re sure.”
“I am. I know the place to begin. Join me on the deck in ten minutes or I’ll start on my own.”
Tal stood and left the remnants of his breakfast. With warmth blooming in his middle, he hopped lightly down the steps to his hammock in the empty hold. He rummaged in his chest and pulled out his princely attire and changed. He wore a fine ruffled shirt overlaid with a brocade vest, and trousers cut to hug his legs. After stepping into his glossy boots, he fussed with his hair, sweeping it to one side, then abandoning it altogether when strands continued to fall into his face. He told himself the prepping had nothing to do with the possibility of seeing Athlen, and more with presenting the face of a prince who cared about his people.
Speaking of, Tal found the shirt he’d worn the previous day in the market and fished out the shark’s tooth. He held it in the palm of his hand. There wasn’t anything special about it at all, but just the same, Tal slid it into his breast pocket.
For the first time since they’d left home, Tal had a purpose. He liked the idea of helping others. Not only was it the right thing to do—he did have a duty to his subjects, after all—but he liked the idea of proving Dara and the villagers wrong. His family were concerned with their people, and they were doing their best to effect change at a high level, but Tal could understand how that might not come across to the common folk. He’d help change that today.
Finished, Tal bent to retrieve his book from where it had fallen from his hammock, and that’s when he heard footsteps. The back of his neck prickled, and he spun to find one of the sailors observing him.
Unnerved, Tal cleared his throat. “Is there a problem?”
The sailor—Tal didn’t know his name—stalked forward. His skin was tanned from the sun, evidence of many voyages, and he squinted at Tal, studying him.
“You may act like a prince,” he said, his voice grating like the drag of wooden crates over the stone pathways near the castle. “But I know what you really are.”
“And what am I?” Tal was proud his voice came out calm and even, despite the shiver of fear that wound its way down his spine.
The sailor’s lips pulled back in a sneer, revealing rows of yellowed and broken teeth. “A perversion. You’ll destroy us all.”
Tal blanched. “How dare you address me in such a way. My brother will hear—”
The sailor closed the distance between them and pressed an arm across Tal’s chest, a short dagger, no longer than Tal’s thumb, clenched in his fist. Tal’s heart slammed against his ribs. His magic swelled and burned, and he lit up from the inside. Struggling, Tal tamped it down and instead drew on the training the castle knights had given him as a child. He remained still and looked for an opening to escape. The edge of the knife grazed Tal’s cheek, rasping across the stubble he hadn’t shaved, and the man’s fetid breath washed over him, setting his head spinning.
“You don’t frighten me,” Tal said.
“You should be frightened. The blood of your family line should not be allowed to continue, let alone pollute the other kingdoms. All of you should be dead, but especially you. I’ll not allow you to—”
“Tally!” Garrett’s voice drifted from above. “Your self-imposed ten minutes are up.”
The sailor’s gaze flickered toward the stairs. His distraction was the opening Tal needed. He lashed out and kicked the man in the knee. The knife nicked his cheek, but it was enough for Tal to get away. He ran for the stairs, yelling for Garrett as he went.
Shay met him at the top and took in his distress. She grabbed his upper arms.
“What happened?”
Tal pointed down. “There’s a man. He attacked me with a knife and—”
Shay shoved him toward Garrett and drew her sword, just as the sailor sprinted up the steps and toward the ramp to the port. Shay lit after him, chasing him to the dock, and overtaking him with her superior speed.
Tal turned his head away when she engaged the sailor, knowing the bloody outcome.
“Are you all right?” Garrett asked, tilting Tal’s face up. “He cut you.”
“I’m fine,” Tal said, chest heaving. “I don’t think he was going to hurt me. He wanted to scare me.” He wasn’t sure that was the truth.
“What did he say?”
Tal gulped. “He said I was a perversion and that our whole family should be dead, especially me.”
Frowning, Garrett wiped the blood away with a handkerchief. “Tally, that doesn’t sound like he only wanted to scare you.”
“He knew. He had to have seen or—”
“He probably heard about our plans for the day and didn’t approve of you sowing your oats with the townspeople.”
Shaking his head, Tal hid the trembling of his hands. “No. That can’t be all. He said I’d destroy everyone. He said my blood would pollute the other kingdoms. He knew.”
Garrett pulled Tal into a reassuring embrace. “Rumors,” Garrett said. “They’re rumors. No one knows for sure.” Garrett didn’t sound convinced. “No more sneaking off, though. Shay will stay with you at all times.”
Tal nodded. As much as he hated to admit it, pressing his face into Garrett’s shoulder was comforting. His pulse slowed, and he only slightly startled when Shay reappeared, wiping blood from her sword with the handkerchief Garrett passed her.
“Report.”
“I wounded him while in pursuit, but he threw himself off the dock into the sea. He didn’t resurface. The blood trail was significant.”
“Dead or will be soon,” Garrett said with a nod. “Food for the fish.”
“Are you okay, Tally?” Shay asked. She cupped his chin and turned his head, gazing hard at the cut. “That must have been frightening.”
With a breath Tal regained his composure. He pulled away from Shay and Garrett and straightened his shoulders. His cheek stung, and he swiped his palm over the cut. “I’m fine. I wish to continue with our plans.”
“Are you sure? You don’t want to find a tavern and hole up for the day? Rest?”
“No,” Tal said. “The day has only started, and I am not going to waste it because of a miscreant with bad breath.”
Shay smiled, and Garrett laughed. “Okay, brother. Where do we start?”
Tal led them to Dara’s house, losing his way only once. He waved them back when he knocked on the door, unsure of his reception. The door swung inward on creaky hinges, and Dara appeared, hair pulled back under a cloth and cheeks smudged with ash from a cooking fire.
“He’s not here,” she said. “He left last night.”
“I’m not looking for him,” Tal said, blushing hotly as her gaze swept over him. She crossed her arms in the doorway. “I’m looking for you.”
That caught her by surprise, and Tal reveled in it. She looked over his shoulder, and her eyes widened at the sight of Shay and Garrett.
“Why?”
“You know what items will best help the people affected by the sickness in this part of town. I’d like for you to tell me, so I can buy them and hand them out to those who need them.”
She looked around. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“Oh,” she said, then narrowed her eyes. “This won’t endear you to me or to him.”
“That’s not my goal,” Tal answered smoothly. “You weren’t wrong yesterday. Sometimes we don’t know what’s happening in the kingdom until it’s too late, but I know now. I want to help.”
“I can dictate a list.”
“Thank you.”
“I’d invite you in, but…” She leaned in, and Tal heard the unmistakable sound of Shay moving closer, her sword clinking at her side—“your bodyguard looks murderous.”
“She’s overprotective,” Tal said with a grin.
“Does it have to do with your cheek? You’re bleeding.”
Tal touched the cut, and his fingertips came away stained red. He pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at the wound. “No, that’s another matter. Anyway, I have a scrap of parchment in my pocket. Do you think you could let your neighbors know to come to the square near the seaside market if they need any of the supplies?”
“Yes, of course, Your Highness.” She dipped into a curtsy and Tal laughed.
“He was right, you know, I’m not fussy.”
“You’re dressed in clothes more expensive than my home.” She sobered. “I still think your family is arrogant and out of touch, but you might not be so bad.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
After acquiring a quill, Tal wrote down the items: beeswax; an assortment of oils, including peppermint and lavender and gingerroot. They left Dara, Tal waving over his shoulder as he led Garrett and Shay toward the market. Together they bought the items required with royal gold, leaving many a happy shopkeeper in their wake. For the rest of the day they passed out the remedies to the families who needed them. Shay stood watch the entire time, hand on her sword, scowl on her face, but nothing happened.
When the last of the root was handed off, Tal realized he’d forgotten to look for Athlen in the crowd. He hadn’t expected Athlen to approach them, especially since Garrett stood close to Tal’s side, but he’d been so caught up in his task, he hadn’t had a chance to look for him on the outskirts of the crowd.
Disappointed, Tal dusted off his hands and managed a weak smile. “That was the last of it. Thank you both for helping.”
“You’re welcome, Tally. It was a good thing to do.” Garrett slung his arm around Tal’s shoulders, ruffling his hair gently.
Shay didn’t agree, if the expression on her face was any indication, but she kept her opinion to herself.
“Now please tell me you’ve worked up a thirst.”
Tal laughed. “Yes, I have. And a hunger.”
“Excellent. There is a tavern right over there, and it is calling our name.” Garrett tugged on Tal’s arm. “Come along.”
“Do the princes really think that after what happened this morning, even more time in the open is wise? And around drunkards, no less?”
“Tally’s fine,” Garrett said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “He did a good deed today. He deserves a drink and a fun time.”
Shay rubbed her brow. “Please don’t get too drunk,” she said. “I don’t think I can handle the pair of you.”
“Relax, Shay. Nothing is going to happen.”
“Someone tried to kill Tally this morning. Or don’t you remember?”
“Someone tried to scare Tally this morning. If he’d wanted him dead, he would be.”
Tal flinched. “That’s not comforting, Garrett.”
“I’m sorry. But you know what is comforting? Mead and ale and… companionship.”
Tal’s cheeks burned. He held up a finger. “No.”
Garrett headed to the nearest tavern, walking backward, mouth in a wide, toothy smile. “Maybe we’ll find you a friend for the night.”
“Garrett—”
“I know it’s no boy from the market.”
Tal hid his face in his hands, mortified, and muttered, “Oh gods.”
“But there might be a boy or girl here that will catch your fancy.”
They stopped briefly in front of the tavern, and Garrett pried Tal’s hands away from his face. The tavern appeared to be the oldest structure on the block. Made of stone, it sat between two wooden buildings that appeared to use its outer walls as part of their own structures. A wooden sign hanging over the door depicted two overflowing tankards. Despite its being only early evening, the crowd inside was raucous, the noise drifting into the street from the shuttered windows. From the sounds of it, the taverngoers were already well into their cups.
“You’re a prince of Harth. Don’t hide your handsome face.” Garrett cocked his head in consideration. “Even if you can’t grow a decent beard yet.”
Before Tal could muster a retort, Garrett pushed open the wooden door and walked inside. Tal followed, with Shay close at his heels. He immediately winced at the noise level that reverberated within the stone walls. The building was two stories, with a long wooden bar and tables set up in the two front rooms. In the back was a kitchen, and the smell of stew made Tal’s stomach growl. All they’d eaten for lunch was a bit of bread and an apple that a grateful townsperson had provided.
Unfortunately, as soon as they made their way to a table, the noise abruptly died, except for an unearthly caterwauling coming from the other room. Garrett ignored the crowd and pulled out a chair, the scrape of wood across the floor uncommonly loud in the silence. Cautiously Tal followed suit.
“Don’t mind us,” Garrett bellowed, taking a gold piece from his purse and flipping it toward the bar, “we’re only here to buy you all a round.”
That earned a few cheers, and the chatter slowly resumed, though the overall air around them remained suspicious and tense. Tal could feel the stares crawling over his skin.
“I’ll order us some dinner,” Shay said, hand on the hilt of her sword.
Tal stood. “No, I’ll do it.”
“Are you sure?”
Tal puffed out his chest, the tips of his ears going hot with indignation. “I think I can buy us food. You may come find me if I’m not back in ten minutes.”
“Five,” Shay replied flatly. “Five minutes. Ten minutes almost saw you killed this morning.”
Tal slammed his hands on the table and pushed his chair back. He stalked off, chin lifted as he maneuvered through the maze of chairs and tables until he made it to the bar. He waited a moment to grab the barmaid’s attention, but once she caught a glimpse of him, she abandoned the conversation she was having with another patron. She was older, and pretty, her blond hair falling around her shoulders in waves. Her eyebrow arched, and her smile turned sultry as she sashayed over to him, her skirt swishing, and the strap of her top falling off her shoulder. Tal averted his gaze and focused on the row of glasses sparkling behind her in the lantern light.
“What will it be, love?”
“Dinner for three.” He nodded to Garrett, who was already halfway through a tankard that another maid had brought him. Shay watched him, her fingers tented on the table, her gaze steady.
“Sure thing.” The barmaid’s gaze roved over him, and she cocked a hip. “Anything else you want? I’m sure we can accommodate.”
“No,” Tal said. He pulled out a gold coin and set it on the bar. Her eyes widened. “In fact, if you keep the mead and food flowing, and promise not to bring up any other forms of entertainment for the night, this whole piece is yours.”
He pushed it across the polished wood, and as soon as he lifted his finger, she had the coin stashed away.
“Royal stamp,” she breathed. Then she curtsied and winked. “Your wish is my command, Your Highness.”
“Thank you.”
“So,” she continued once all pretense of potential companionship was gone, “which one are you? Aren’t there seven of you?”
“Five,” Tal corrected. “And I’m the fourth.”
“The sickly one. Figures,” she said, pushing away. “Of course the second to last would find his way into my tavern.” Tal bit back that Garrett was second in line, as that would only spur her on. “Oh well, we’ll see you and your guards are well taken care of.” She waved her hand, dismissing him, and Tal wasn’t sure how to gauge their interaction. He’d been flirted with and insulted in the span of a few moments. Life outside the castle was confusing, and he started to miss the routine and machinations of the court.
Tal took a step toward his table but was distracted by the sound of a familiar voice. Craning his neck, he glimpsed a figure in the adjoining room, sitting on a table, empty mug in his hand, singing suggestive lyrics about sea foam.
As Tal inched toward the commotion, the young man jumped to his bare feet and spun around, stumbling to a halt when he saw Tal peering through the doorway.
Athlen met Tal’s gaze and gave him a wide and tipsy smile before bowing dramatically at the waist. “My prince!”
Tal grimaced. “Oh no.”