Page 65 of The Queens and the Kings
“I know.”
When Einar’s eyes opened, something was missing.
Henrik let the silence speak. Einar needed his fire back. He needed a reason to live. A service to give to Agnes that would build conviction until he could find it again himself. Henrik had never cared about anyone enough to understand how Einar felt, but he had a relative approximation with Britt. He had no ideawhatthey were to each other, but the thought of that hatchet in Agnes’s chest had kept him up all night long.
Henrik asked the only question left. “How much do you want to avenge Agnes?”
A flare of life ignited when Einar gripped the wooden fence railing and growled, “More than I want to breathe.”
“Would you live for it?”
“Yes.”
“Would you stay here, help me negotiate an alliance between us and the mainland, and destroy His Glory? For Agnes. For her honor. Foryourhonor.”
Einar met his gaze. “You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
With great calculation in his gaze, Einar said, “Yes.”
“Good.” Henrik slapped him on the shoulder. “Before we get to work on revenge against His Glory, we need to let the mainland know exactly where they stand when it comes to the former soldats.”
Einar straightened. “What do you mean?”
“This happened in my reefer year. When other islands or leaders set a business meeting with an unknown agenda, they hold the power. Typically, they were trying to shortchange us on exports and back me into a corner. I found that a display of power before entering the negotiations helped it go more smoothly.”
“I’m listening.”
“We’re supposed to meet with the Ladylord in fifteen minutes, but we’re going to do something else first. Make it clear that we’re not on her Chain, like Kapurnick. She set the time, the place, the people involved, and the controlling idea. If the Ladylord wants to work with us, we’ll need control over terms or we set it ourself.”
Interest illuminated Einar’s deadpan eyes. “I like the sound of this.”
“Follow me. We’re going to visit the scribe.”
Finding the exact scribe Henrik sought was more difficult than expected. The Ladylord had more than one scribe in her employ, and none of them worked near her house.
Even better.
Their timeline elongated.
Lubbers didn’t clump their government buildings together, for one. There was no Compendium to make sense of. For another, passage through Klipporno wasn’t as simple without Britt. She had been familiar enough to not merit questioning from patrolling soldiers, and she knew her way around. Einar and Henrik growled a few approaching sailors off, but the distracting roadways slowed them down.
Einar followed Henrik, slowing every so often to study an unexpected weapon, then caught up. When Einar passed a display of emerald bracelets that looked oddly like Agnes’s eyes, his entire body stiffened. He walked like a plank until the trinkets vanished.
Guided by a passing stranger, they stopped at the top of the hill, near the Ladylord’s residence. A sign pointed down an opposing road.
Scribes.
Henrik rapped on the door to the first building. It swung inside, revealing a broad-shouldered man with hands like ham hocks. He sat behind a narrow desk barely as wide as his shoulders. He regarded them through bushy eyebrows. An array of books and paperwork stood on the ground, as tall as the desk itself.
“What?” he barked.
Einar’s pallor and burning rage worked in their favor. The man did a double take as they stepped inside. His initial irritation faded into a more docile uncertainty.
“My name is Henrik. I’m here to speak with a scribe working with the Ladylord to locate someone for me.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “If the Ladylord has assigned any scribe a task, and you were supposed to be involved, then you would be. Leave.”
