“I left her sitting outside the forge awaiting the ships’ return.”
Two of them were due to arrive any day now. It is a favored pastime of the villagers, predicting the return of the Voyagers.
“Do you hear that?”
I did. The slow, steady beat of horses’ hooves pounding the dry earth.
We peek out from the shutters as the sound intensifies.
The tips of their gold and red banners become visible before the men themselves. They slow as they spot us. Anna’s breathing becomes erratic, and I lay a hand on her shoulder.
“Bastards, aye. But not likely here to harm us.” I keep the venom from my voice. “We are just a curiosity to them.”
I squint, attempting to calm myself as much as my companion.
They’re too far away for me to hear their words. It doesn’t help that all four are helmed, but I watch as the leader, clearly marked as such by his bearing, grasps his helmet and pulls it off.
If I could’ve controlled the swift intake of breath, I would have. Because I’ve clearly shown my hand.
“A rightly handsome man,” Anna whispers, echoing my thoughts.
Nay, more than handsome. Regal, almost. One who knows his worth. His hair nearly shoulder length, as I’d expect of a Merian, though slightly wavy and as dark as mine, his skin touched by many a summer’s day. When he turns our way, I silently thank Anna for having pulled me inside. If I’d been out there, he would have witnessed my unwitting reaction to him. I watch as he signals for the others to move once again, confirming my suspicion that he is indeed their leader.
“Aye,” I finally agree as they pass. Anna tosses the door open, and we step outside.
“Why are the king’s men here?” she wonders aloud, again echoing my thoughts.
“I do not know, but it does not bode well for Murwood End.”
Or for me.
Chapter Three Vanni
“Shall I take Dex, my lord?”
“Nay.”
My squire doesn’t question the reason. He knows it pacifies me to care for my own horse, and at this moment, I am in need of pacifying. We’d considered the possibility Master Aldwine might be out to sea. He is, after all, a Voyager. What we didn’t consider is that none seem to know, or be willing to tell us, where he went or how long he’ll be gone. Now all we can do is wait.
“I’ll be along,” I tell him and the others. Three men in total including Christopher, Thomas, and my loyal friend Salvi, more than I’d wanted to bring, but the king insisted. Murwood End does not pose much of a danger. The small hamlet tucked behind the Loigh Mountains along the northernmost tip of the island is home to a fiercely independent people. Isolated by the mountains we’ve traversed over the past days, they are better known for avoiding battles than engaging in them.
For years this place remained empty until the distant relatives of Lord Bailor, a current resident of Murwood End, sailed here from Hempswood in Meria. Weary of the politics regarding the splitting of the kingdom, he settled here. Those that later joined his family and their men were given one edict . . . to serve neither king. To this day they claim allegiance to neither place.
Since then the Voyagers have preferred to sail north for trade, even though those routes are longer and more dangerous than sailing south to Meria or Edingham. And though Voyagers have been accused of atrocities beyond our shores, most agree the tales are just that. Stories and nothing more. What matters is that these people are not, by all accounts, dangerous to me and my men. Though from the looks we’ve been receiving, I doubt my sword will remain sheathed.
After tending to Dex, the inn’s stable boy as suspicious of me as the rest of the locals, I make my way toward the docks. The year before my parents died, I journeyed to this place with my father and his men. We took the usual route, past the Bay of Sindridge and up the east coast. When we came to the Cliffs of Murh, I struggled to keep from staring in awe. My father’s stalwart retainers showed little emotion, however, and I was ashamed of my reaction.
The smell of salt air and fresh fish is somehow slightly different than back home, even though both are on the coast. It is a wonder to me we share the same land. There are fewer smiles and warm embraces. Darker clothing but lighter skin. I suspect I’d be known as an outsider even without the mark of the king on my breastplate.
But one thing we have in common with these people is a love for the sea. Unlike the Highlanders and mountain men, both Voyagers and Southerners, as they call us, survive on the bounties the sea brings.
Following a path along the docks back toward the inn, where we’ll await Master Aldwine’s return, I stop and watch as a fisherman wearing a brown leather apron hauls his catch across the planks. He tosses a net up to a similarly adorned woman, and together they call orders to those still aboard the ship.
Another difference between us. I know of no women captains in Meria.
“Does the sight of a woman in charge of her own ship startle you so?”
I smell her before I even see her, the scent of lavender replacing all else. I turn and nearly lose my footing on, well, nothing. We stand on a dry dirt path that leads to the docks, nothing to become unbalanced over, except the sight of her.
“A Garra,” I blurt before thinking. The bright
