Father will kill me.
“My fee is high.”
“I will pay it.”
“Why?” I ask again.
The commander leans forward, putting his ale on the table between us. “You looked me in the eyes the moment we met.”
True enough. Then again, I do not believe it is a sin to do so. Despite what the church teaches, the mere act of looking directly into a man’s eyes cannot tempt him into sin. And if it were possible, it would be a mark of the man’s weak character.
“And I do so now,” I prod.
“Indeed.”
I can hear my very heartbeat in my ears as we look at each other. In the end, there is but one answer.
I need to find out more information for Kipp.
Or so I tell myself.
“I will do it. But you must tell me why you are here.”
His men grow silent, proof that they’ve been listening to our conversation despite their chatter.
“I’ll answer one of your questions each time we meet,” he offers.
“About your reasons for being in Murwood End?”
“Aye. One each visit.”
I empty my ale, stand, and say, “Very well. Then we shall meet here tomorrow at this time.”
The bargain is one that favors me. Vanni d’Abella will get nothing from it he does not already have. So why do I feel like I’m about to lose everything?
Chapter Six
Vanni
“’Tis a foolish plan.”
The others have retired to the private quarters provided by the innkeeper. Only Sir Thomas and I remain in the common room, though I’m beginning to regret the decision to stay for one more ale.
“You’ve a better one?”
As the night wears on, the crowd decidedly more bawdy than before, I ignore the urge to engage with those who watch us. If we’re to stay in Murwood End to await Master Aldwine’s return, we must not engage in battle with the people here. But one man in particular, who’s been watching us all eve, his jaw tight with aggression, makes my fingers twitch.
“Than seeking treatment by a Garra for a made-up condition so you can gain information that will give us access to the boy? Aye. We intercept him on his return.”
There was no mention of her being a Garra, but if this is the same woman rumored to be as a sister to Aldwine, I may gain more than just information. But I could be wrong and will keep the thought to myself.
Thomas, a good friend in addition to his role as Knight Commander in the Curia, raises his hand to the maid, whom we’ve learned is the innkeeper’s daughter. Comely, perhaps having seen twenty or so summers, she appears, like most women, to have fallen for Thomas’s charms.
“Ale, my lord?”
“He is the only lord here, mistress. I am but a humble servant of the king.”
“Humble servant indeed,” I mutter. The irony is not lost on me. He may be pressing me about Aedre, but he’s a merciless flirt.
The maid smiles coyly at Thomas as she walks away.
“Careful, Thomas,” I say. “If we’re to stay here, you’d do well not to dip your oar in that water.”
“Says the man who’s meeting the Garra for no good reason.”
True enough.
“Does she so freely practice here without repercussion?” he asks.
“Apparently.”
Thomas’s maid returns with his ale, and while he speaks with her, I think of Aedre. Did she agree to meet me simply for coin? Or did I detect a hint of attraction from her?
“I don’t like it.” Thomas, finished with the maid, leans forward. “Hinton will be gathering support even now. And yet we sit here, idle, doing naught about it.”
“Naught but securing the one man who can challenge his claim.”
I wave my hand, ignoring my drunken foe, who’s looking at me even now.
“This is the most important battleground, Thomas. If we leave here without him . . .”
I drink to avoid finishing that thought. If we leave here without him, Meria is doomed to be ruled by a cruel and inept king. A man who cares for naught but securing the power his father, the king’s brother, was never able to claim. Of course, King Galfrid could name another heir. Some distant kin with tenuous ties to the royal family. But Hinton has a silver tongue that belies his base nature. Some men care more for advancing their own positions than they do for the good of the realm. And those men will be easily swayed by his lofty promises. He will rule unlike any of the kings of Meria before him, and all will be worse off for it.
It is true none know firsthand the true measure of Kipp Aldwine, but from reports Galfrid has gathered throughout the years, we know he is both strong and honorable. A man unlike Hinton.
“To think Edingham was our biggest threat mere months ago,” I muse. Now, those skirmishes along the border seem inconsequential compared to the chaos our kingdom will endure if this mission fails.
“If the boy refuses to come, Hinton cannot be the answer.”
Though he speaks the words softly, I shake my head. This is not the place to discuss such matters as a vision of Matteo, the man who should have been king, flashes before me.
Once again, I feel the strange pang of knowing I could have been on that boat.
Pushing the thoughts back down, I say, “He is no boy. Master Aldwine has seen more than thirty summers.”
Galfrid still speaks of him as the babe he sent away those many years ago, but Kipp Aldwine is a strong, capable man. From what we’ve heard in the south, he’s reputedly the fiercest of all Voyagers.
“Also not a boy? Your opponent this evening.”
I’m not surprised Thomas has taken notice of the man as well. And he’s right to do so. If we are to stay in Murwood End, the vitriol he’s sending our way, stares that are becoming harder to ignore, cannot be tolerated. It will only encourage bad behavior.
“Shall I get the others?”
“Nay.”
I stand.
“Christ’s body,” Thomas mutters behind me.
Unwilling to spill blood in the very place we’re taking shelter, I break eye contact with the man and stride out the door. The smell of sea air, more crisp than in the south, welcomes me. The docks are dark, quiet, and largely empty, though the moon provides enough light for me to see my adversary as he strides out the door after me.
“Southerner.” He spits on the ground in front of me.
“A king’s man,” one of his companions warns, as if to dissuade him. At least one of the local men has some wits about him.
“The king’s commander,” Thomas informs them both. If he intended for the words to caution the man, they seem to have the opposite effect. He unsheathes his sword.
I sigh. Loudly.
“We have no king here.” He spits again and advances, barely waiting for me to unsheathe my own weapon before raising his against me.
If I were not so weary from travel, I might have enjoyed a bit of sport. But this has been a long day, one I’m ready to end.
So instead of engaging with him, I simply wait for his thrust. When it comes, I rebuff it, knocking his sword from his hand after just three attempts. Not an easy feat given his size and strength, but unlike my opponent, my intent was not to harm or maim.