Page 56 of Winds of Destiny

I load up the packs as Turo considers my half-bakedtheory. He sucks one cheek in as he muses, a habit I’ve noticed whenever he’s lost in his thoughts. It’s endearing.

Not that I would ever tell him that.

“His chariot tracks disappeared at the marsh’s edge outside Zephyth,” he says at last. “I don’t know how he managed that, but I do agree that there’s something more to this if Embros is so involved. What, though…”

“Maybe we’ll find out more when we get to the next settlement,” I reply, then hold out my hands for him to step into as he gets up onto the ram. It’s probably his least favorite part of the morning, but I’m not about to let him pull a stitch by jumping up by himself. To his credit, he doesn’t complain about it, just accepts my help with a blank face.

“Fremont’s Height is an interesting place,” I continue. “Independent, despite my father’s best efforts. There’s a lake there, and the people make curious, flat-bottomed boats and pole out into the middle of it to fish every day. I haven’t visited for two years now, but I remember how surprised I was when they served me a dish of jellied lake eel.”

“I’ve been there before,” Turo says.

Ah, of course he has. He’s been farther than I ever have.

“But I was never served jellied lake eel,” he goes on, giving me a little smile. “I’ve heard it’s quite the delicacy. They must like you.” He clicks his tongue, and the ram begins walking at a brisk pace. I have to rush to catch up.

…

The approach to Fremont’s Height is a laborious one, straight up the side of the mountain until we reach the plateau that contains the lake and the settlement. There’s a deep crevice beside the trail, carved from centuries of the everwinds whipping up water, where the river that feeds the lake flows down to the Plains and the inland sea. It’s not a big river—I could probably jump from one shore to the other if I got a running start—but as we climb, I can see that it’s teeming with glossy, black-bodied fish that shine purple and blue in the sunlight.

The founders of Fremont’s Height chose their position well when they established themselves here half a century ago. Their place is much better defended than Traveler’s Ease, but I’m not able to relax until the walls come into view and no ransacking is evident. The guards in the watchtower recognize me on sight—or maybe it’s the rams that do it—and let us in without a fuss.

The headman of the village rushes over to meet us before we even have a chance to dismount. “Prince Eleas!” he chimes. He’s heavyset and broad-chested, but his voice is surprisingly high and light.

Beyond the welcoming party, I can make out boats on the water, where men and women alike are plying their fishing trade. The air downright stinks with their success.

“Welcome, welcome! I don’t know if you remember me, your highness. I am Misha Doreth, headman of Fremont’s Height. I would be honored if you and your friend would come to my home and share a drink with me.”

“I do indeed remember you,” I say politely.Although not your name before you said it.I dismount from my ram, then help Turo down as well. He rolls his eyes, but he lets me take his weight as he slides off. I take both our packs, then tell the rams, “Go graze.” The clever creatures walk off toward the town park in the distance, followed by several curious children.

Once Turo’s beside me, I turn to the headman and accept his bow with a brief one of my own. “Master of the Height, thank you for your hospitality,” I say as he leads us into the nearest house, a squat, single-level building designed to resist winds that no longer batter it.

It’s lighter in here than I expected. One of the walls is actually a window filled with small, square frames holding thin-stretched hide that lets in considerable sunshine. Master Doreth leads us over to a table where plenty of sturdy chairs and a pitcher of sharp-smelling beer await us. Judging from the cup already half empty, he’s been indulging on his own for a bit already.

He pours us each a glass, and we raise them in a brief salute, then drink. Only then does the headman begin speaking again. “Oh, it’s nothing, nothing at all! We’re happy to help our neighbors to the west, of course, especially after such a grand commission!”

Wait, commission? What?

“I take it you received word that the boats were picked up,” he goes on, blithely unaware of my growing confusion. “Excellent, excellent, although I do wish the men you sent to retrieve them were a bit more talkative. Our boatwrights strive to complete orders to perfection, after all. Will you be taking the rest of your men with you when you leave?” He sounds hopeful. “Only the king did promise, yet it’s been weeks and—”

“What boats?” Turo asks before I can. I’m grateful—I need a moment to process what’s going on here, and I’d rather not do it under close scrutiny.

“Why, the twenty boats the king ordered at the beginning of the year,” the headman says, his brow wrinkling a bit. “When the fruits just began ripening.” He refocuses on me. “Don’t you recall him coming to our fish festival? It’s an unparalleled event. You should come to the next one; we serve up over a dozen different types of—”

“I remember the trip,” I say. It was notable because my father rarely travels outside Huridell, but he said he was making a special effort to bring Fremont’s Height under Huridell’s banner. He returned without securing their loyalty to our city, but… Perhaps that was never what he was after at all. “What need did he say he had for boats?”

“Why, for the trip to the inland sea, of course.” The headman looks from my face to Turo’s, his face slowly growing fearful. “He didn’t tell you he planned an expedition to the inland sea? Something about, about, oh—expanding trade routes? He sent men to check on the order monthly! They just took possession of the boats five weeks ago!”

Possession of…boats.

Boats for the inland sea.

Boats with wide, flat bottoms that could carry loads of men, or even chariots. Commissioned for that snake Embros bymy own fucking father.

“I appreciate knowing this,” I say stiffly, aware that I’m probably scaring the poor man in front of me but unable to do anything about it. “Please, if another representative of Huridell comes here, don’t mention that you saw me. It’s…complicated at home at the moment.”

“Of course, of course.” The headman is wringing his hands, but his voice is clear enough. “Whatever I can do. I’ve no desire to cause trouble for youoryour king.”

Damn straight he doesn’t—the last thing this poor guy wants is to be drawn into a great city’s civil war. I drain the cup, incline my head, then stand. “Thank you for your time. My companion and I will take our leave now.” I had planned for us to spend the night here, give Turo a chance to sleep in a soft bed and get some real food into us, but now…

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