“You can ride Warrior,” Hamish continued. “He’s me niece’s pony, but I’m sure Sorcha willnae mind you borrowing him.” He gave the animal a heavy pat on the shoulder and grinned at Darshan. “Dinnae let the name fool you. He’s as gentle as they come.”
Darshan eyed the animal. Warrior might’ve been smaller than the monstrous horse Hamish had arrived on—with a little room to spare between Warrior’s wither and Hamish’s armpit—but if that animal was a pony, then he was an elf. The animal stood almost as high as himself. He could barely peer over Warrior’s back. “Is everything in this kingdom so frutzian huge?” he muttered.
Hamish arched a brow in silent enquiry. Quite possibly in part due to the usage of a Udynean word that didn’t generally get used in polite company.
Darshan waved his hand about. “I mean the horses, the hills…” His gaze slid Hamish’s way and a flush of heat touched his cheeks as he mumbled, “The men.” He cleared his throat, hoping the Tirglasian hadn’t caught that. “A little forewarning that this was a land of giants would have been nice. Is it something in the water? What you eat? What—?” He stalled as the man started laughing. “Did I say something amusing?”
Wheezing in an attempt to halt his laughter, Hamish draped himself over the pony’s back. “We’re nae giants.”
“I beg to differ.” There were men of all heights in Udynea, but people this statuesque weren’t considered the norm. “Your father must be over seven feet tall.”
Hamish wiped his eyes with the back of a finger. “That’s a good guess. I wouldnae say he was over, though. But they’re all tall in his clan.”
“Clan?” Darshan had vague recollections of such from late night lessons in his cramped quarters aboard the ship.
Hamish frowned. “They live out on the plains near the Cezhory border. Lots of cattle, I hear.” He tilted his head, puzzlement furrowing his brow as he eyed Darshan. “But I thought you would already ken that? What with being an ambassador and all?”
“Yes,” he admitted. And Countess Harini probably did have quite a bit more knowledge than what had been crammed into his head during the journey here. “But I was recruited at the last minute.” If he hadn’t been so foolish back home, he would still be there. And the countess would likely still be alive to do her duty.
“Oh aye?” The man grinned broadly, the expression shaping his beard until it mimicked the long-haired hounds Darshan had encountered on the way here. “Well then, this should be an education for you.”
“I welcome it.” Years had come and gone since anything as challenging as this position had reared its head.
Leaving Warrior to stand placidly in the middle of the stables, Hamish disappeared into another stall and returned with the same massive horse Darshan had seen him arrive on. “Is there any place in particular you’re wishing to visit or are we just doing a general tour of the area?”
“I would rather like to see the docks.” Father often said that facts were better checked firsthand and, no matter how honest a people claimed to be, there was always something hidden in the dark.
The man glanced up from where he was adjusting the horse’s tack. “But you just came from there. I thought you’d want to stay away from ships and waves.”
Darshan inclined his head. He was utterly sick of both those things. “I would like to see a little more, if you do not mind.” There were few places where he would get a better idea of the kingdom’s commerce than the docks. But he’d seen very little of the area on his arrival. Queen Fiona had taken one look at him and whisked the entire greeting party back to the castle so fast that he was surprised he didn’t have scorching on his heels.
Hamish shrugged and swung into the saddle. “Suit yourself. But if we’re leaving, we should do it before someone realises we’re missing and comes looking.”
“Quite.” The last thing he wanted was any manner of formal tour, especially involving guards. That would hardly give him the truest outlook of Mullhind.
Clambering onto Warrior’s back, Darshan followed the man’s brisk pace out of the castle gates. There were a number of guards at the entrance. But whilst the men eyed them, not a one made any move to stop them from leaving.
The road leading to the city wound down the hillside, clearly taking a path once trod by wildlife. In Minamist, this sauntering journey would never stand. The rock would have been moulded by labour and magic, these naturally easy curves eradicated in favour of stark lines and high-arching bridges.
Darshan’s gaze swung towards the harbour. From their position high on the hillside, the ocean lay spread before them like an undulating rug. He breathed deep, taking some small comfort in the familiar salt tang in the breeze. Too cold. Even with spring rearing its head, he would need to invest in warmer undergarments if the negotiations dragged on.
Home might’ve boasted a fabulous view of the sea-green ocean in the south, but it was nothing as all-encompassing as this. The Imperial Palace had no clear line of sight to the docks. Nor did his homeland have any towering hills or cliffs upon which to perch on like a Niholian sea-diving hawk. It was a structure designed with only luxury and segregation in mind. Whereas Mullhind Castle was clearly built to withstand a siege inside and out. Even concentrated magic would be hard-pressed to do more than dent the walls.
When the next gentle curve in the road turned them away from the sea, Darshan let his gaze wander across the city itself. He tried to follow the roads with his eye, not an easy thing to attempt when
