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CHAPTER FOUR
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I arrived in Sondres in less than a week, a little before the sun rose. I stunk, my beard was growing out, and I was hungry. I had stolen some clothes hanging on a washer woman's line and replaced them with my old ones, which were worn, but still relatively fine, save for some stab wounds. Finding water had been no issue. I had no bow with which to hunt, however, and was not precise enough for invocations to replace it, so I had traded my labor for food at inns, chopping wood, drawing water, and in one case, cleaning out the stables. I was not eager to repeat that particular task. In any case, I was eating, but generally only one meal a day, so I knew that I needed to find some kind of steady source of funds.
Once I arrived I continued down to the docks, remembering from a trip some years ago that they were always looking for strong backs to load and unload the ships. I was still in fairly good shape, especially after Raisa's healing, and I had the advantage of magic.
It would have been dangerous to show off powerful invocations as they would be a dead giveaway of my Pureblood status, but thankfully, I had no such abilities, and my hair had never changed. That being said, a few freshly trained mages arrived in a city like Sondres each day. Some made their way in the arts of war, others became laborers, functioning as living cranes or carts that could quickly and precisely manipulate cargos. I was hoping for employment as the latter.
Once I arrived I found a dock master who needed such help and negotiated for a day's work. Being the son of nobility my understanding of the value of things was, I will admit, limited, so I was probably underpaid. I knew it would enough for food and a room, so I did not complain.
As the day passed, I got the hang of things, slowly levitating crates and pallets that would have needed large numbers of men or slow cranes to move. My skills were not extraordinary in this regard, but as far as I could tell from what my fellow workers said there were only two other mages who bothered with this kind of thing, and one of them was elsewhere. Most preferred to sign on with the courts of lesser nobles or one of the mercenary companies fighting in the never-ending war across the sea.
By the mid-afternoon, I noticed that I was being watched. She wasn't being subtle about it. She was tall, and well-muscled, although still obviously feminine, tanned with thick black hair shorn shorter than mine. She wore a sleeveless shirt, leather pants that looked to be some kind of armor, and soldier's boots. By the intent way that she watched me placing crates I knew that she intended to hire me or bed me. Maybe both.
As I stopped for a moment, she approached me and slapped me on the back, affably. I wasn't offended, but I was surprised. That seemed to be a good way to start a fight in a place like this.
On the other hand she seemed as though she would have no trouble winning fights.
Up close I could see that her nose had the shape that only came from being broken a few times, and her rough features were scarred, although she was, in my mind, still attractive, no one would ever call her pretty.
"That's some nice work. How long have you been at it?"
"Uh," I said, wondering if I should tell the truth, "I really just started today."
"No, I meant how long have you been doing this uninterrupted? Without a break?"
I hadn't given it much thought but the truth was that I hadn't taken one.
"I guess since daybreak," I said, and her eyebrows raised in surprise. I wondered if I had perhaps said too much.
"Well, this crook," she said, gesturing to the dockmaster, who I noted was within earshot, "will work you and pay you nothing for your trouble. I'll give you a contract with my company. Mostly it will be things like this, but if you know any battle magic then you'll get a hefty raise right off."
I gave it some serious thought. At that time however, leaving for the continent was not what I wanted. I could better achieve my aims by remaining here, earning money, and planning.
"I don't think that's where I'm heading. But thank you."
"Well, if you change your mind, come down to The Dead Archer. That's where we're recruiting. We're going to be leaving in a week, so don't dawdle," she walked off, shouting over her shoulder, "You're wasted here!"
I laughed at her audacity and finished my task. Although the dockmaster had provided water and some stale bread throughout the day, I was hungry, thirsty, and tired. I knew that I had enough for room and board with a little left over. Maybe I could even hit the baths. It was a good day.
When it occurred to me how different my definition of "a good day" was from a week ago, I did get a little depressed. As I walked, I noted some kids running past me, towards the center of the city. That was where our family had what they called the "Winter Palace". It was also where father tended to rule in times of crisis or war, assuming things were going well.
"The prince is here!" one of the children shouted. I panicked for a moment, until I realized that they were almost certainly referring to Tyr.
What would he be doing here? Was there going to be an announcement of some kind? Would my mother or Merwyd be here? I decided to take the small risk of exposure for the opportunity to gather information. Although I wouldn't admit it to myself, the chance to glimpse the woman that I loved was also foremost in my mind. If she was here, perhaps I could even get her a message.
As it turns out, she was.
I arrived at the plaza to the type of carnival atmosphere that always accompanied royal proclamations and important executions. Vendors sold a variety of dubious street food and I shamelessly ate two sweet rolls and some unidentifiable roasted meat while I waited with the rest of the masses.
The palace itself stood squat with a single, large square tower. There was an ornate balcony from which such announcements were made. The building itself was decorated with colorful blue and gold banners, with the royal wyvern seal upon them. They looked rather new.
I saw them as soon as they stepped out of the door onto the balcony where I had stood in the past. My father, Uncle Bayrd, mother, and aunts. And of course Tyr and Merwyd. There was something in how she stood which filled my stomach with foreboding.
It was the fear. Or rather, the total lack of it. She was relaxed. Happy. I suppose that she could have been acting. It would have made sense. But I knew her very well, or at least I thought I did, and she appeared completely natural to me.
Father stepped forward, which meant he would be speaking. That made this serious. I saw him make the gesture and say the words that would amplify his voice and make him able to be heard in the plaza. In fact, he was powerful enough that he could be heard through much of the city.
"Loyal and gracious subjects, I speak to you of grave matters. There has been attempted assassination, from within my own house..."
Oh, for fuck's sake. It made sense that I would be made out to be the villain, but the question was, did they truly believe it?
"In the past week, my youngest son, who's name shall not be spoken here, attempted to murder my heir in a sacred space. He failed, and for his crimes was cast down from the tower by his intended victim. While I grieve his death and more importantly, utter moral failure, all traces of his rebellion have been stamped out, and the remaining family have joined together in unison..."
I took an additional risk and used magic of my own. It was very simple, and the only sign was my eyes shifting color continuously, but it was possible that a member of my family could have detected it. It was a very simple cantrip that enabled me to see detail at long distances at the cost of my peripheral vision. While father droned on, I examined the faces and posture of my family. Specifically the women I loved. Those who were the last I saw before my fateful meeting.
My mother was a skilled political operator, and could make her face a mask. But I knew her, and could see signs of some tension in the way that she held herself. There was, however, no sadness, no grief. Her eyes were at peace and were not red with tears. And for all the love she claimed to have for me, she most likely loved her brother the king, even more. Besides, she was young enough to have other children. Hadn't she, after all, led me personally to my ambush?
Merwyd was, if anything, worse. Well, I say worse, but her expression was one of excitement. Nearly joy. She showed no signs at all of uncertainty at being here on display. I saw the easy familiarity with which her arm suddenly wrapped itself around Tyr and the picture was complete. Wasn't there a look of worry on her face right before she left me to my mother? How much had she known, really? And she wore not even one item of mourning. None of them did. My father's words suddenly brought me back to reality.
"...this is why my heir and his betrothed have been married, in secret. The line must be protected for the security of the nation and my subjects."
At that, there was a great deal of cheering. My brother and Merwyd held hands, and rather spontaneously, it seemed, kissed, before they faced the crowd and waved, his arm over her shoulders in a territorial fashion. She leaned into him, beaming her brightest smile. I saw it all with crystal clarity. If she was acting, it was better than I had ever seen. At least father and mother looked serious, unhappy to have had to make the first announcement. The only one who looked genuinely disgusted with the whole affair was my uncle.
It made sense, we'd always gotten along, both of us being youngest sons. We'd frequently drank together and mocked the hypocrisy of our relatives. He had no children, so I was probably the closest thing to one that he would ever have.
Tyr, of course, was thrilled. He'd gotten everything he wanted. But he could have had that without murdering me. I was still at a loss as to why that was necessary.
Even so, the mystery of my political fall and attempted murder were of far less import to me than Merwyd. She was the First Wife of the heir apparent. That came with huge amounts of prestige and power. She was, obviously, quite pleased with her new status. This left no more time to grieve the man who, a week ago, she had promised to love. Assuming that she hadn't been lying.
I wasn't surprised at my sadness, nor the deep wave of loss that I felt wash over me. This was the first time that my heart had truly been broken, and in truth it was shattered. I felt numb, and then rage filled me. I was shocked by its intensity, its heat. If someone had spoken to me at that moment I may have killed them simply because I lacked the control to do otherwise. It passed swiftly, but I felt it there, lurking, a new part of my ever changing internal world.
