Upon reaching the longboat, I tossed my pack inside. It would serve as my seat whenever I rowed. Oars were at the ready, spaced evenly apart throughout the shallow hull. The small vessel needed a crew of eighteen, with nine men on either side. While I was accustomed to the larger royal longships, I understood the practicality of arriving at the Great Isle with anonymity, since we didn’t want to draw undue attention to ourselves and the fact we were princes. The Testing rules didn’t prohibit disclosing our true identities, but such a revelation could interfere with the end results.
The sun had crested the peaks by the time Mikkel made his way down the winding castle pathway. I was surprised to see that a dozen or more men accompanied him, including the king.
As I watched Mikkel converse with our father, unease chilled my skin as surely as the mist blowing off the fjord. I should have waited and walked with the king to the waterfront. I could have used the hour to solidify our relationship and maintain his goodwill.
When the entourage reached the wharf, the king embraced Mikkel. I could only watch with growing trepidation. Had Mikkel done more to earn our father’s and the Lagting’s favor than I’d realized?
As my older brother stepped away from Father and crossed toward me, something in his eyes seemed to challenge me—a glint that left no doubt he wanted to become the next king every bit as much as I did and that he would fight me to win the Testing.
Rather than challenging him in return, I gave him one of my usual easy grins. “Are you ready, my brother?” I summoned all the warmth and kindness I could muster.
“As ready as can be. You?”
“I would have another week or month or year before setting out.”
Mikkel didn’t smile in return. “Perhaps you would like to gain permission to be excused from the Testing?”
My grin slipped away. “I cannot abide any conflict between us, Mikkel. I would rather be excused from the Testing and give up any chance at being king than allow the quest to drive us asunder.”
Mikkel held my gaze for several heartbeats before he shifted his attention to the longboat and the sailor on the mast securing the rigging. “Forgive me for my impertinence. In the days to come, we must not lose sight of our affinity for each other. It is the Testing itself that will determine who is most worthy, and as such, we must accept the outcome.”
He was right. The Testing was the fairest way to determine our worthiness. We would have no squabbling or fighting or backstabbing between us. Rather than competing against each other, we would be competing against ourselves—our own weaknesses, our own struggles, and our own vulnerabilities.
“I pray Providence will smile upon you with your Testing,” I said. “You are a strong and determined man, and you will do well.”
This time when Mikkel met my gaze, the ice was gone. “Thank you. You are a good man, Vilmar. And I wish you all the best as well.”
Before we could say more, Father’s weapons master, Sir Axel, stepped forward and cleared his throat. He was a tall, bald man with a pointed black goatee. The scar running the length of his jaw lent him a fierceness that, in my childhood, had caused me to quake at his appearance. But after years of training under him, I’d ascertained he was not as hard on the inside as he was on the outside.
For several minutes, he relayed the rules of the Testing we’d already learned but that needed restating so no one could claim ignorance. “As always, the Testing involves many risks,” he finished in his deep, gravelly voice. “And this will likely involve greater risks than previous Testings due to the volatile situation on the Great Isle.”
“Volatile?” Kresten stood beside me with his feet spread and his arms crossed. He was slightly smaller than me, but he was undoubtedly the strongest of the three of us.
“Aye, Queen Margery can be quite unpredictable. If she discovers any of you on the Isle, there is no telling what she’ll do to you.” Sir Axel spoke to all of us, but he looked directly at me, since my Testing would be in the heart of her country.
I returned his gaze just as frankly. “Scania is at peace with Warwick. The queen has no grievance with us.”
“She doesn’t need a grievance. Your presence alone will be enough to raise her suspicion. If she learns of you, she may accuse you of spying or attempting to steal her precious gems. She won’t hesitate to fabricate lies to serve her own scheming.”
I had faith I could remain undetected in the gem mines. If the queen somehow discovered my presence, I would have to win her over like I did most people I met.
The king raised his hand, his many rings gleaming in the morning light. Sir Axel took the cue and bowed his head. “Your Majesty.”
“Please tread carefully, my sons.” The king’s serious gaze alighted upon each of us. “For if you do find yourself in conflict with Queen Margery, you know the rules of the Testing prevent me from sending our army to your aid.”
We nodded in response.
The king motioned toward three men wearing gray cloaks of coarse wool with large hoods that shielded their faces. “We had a difficult time locating scribes who are proficient with weaponry and subterfuge. But after searching the entire realm, we have picked a companion for each of you. Not only will they record the day-to-day occurrences of your Testing as is the custom, but they will step in to protect you if the need arises.”
“Your Majesty,” I said. “If I face danger and my companion rescues me, then of what benefit is the Testing?”
Sir Axel shared a look with the king as though they’d anticipated such a question.
Though I meant no disrespect, I had to speak up. “I beg your forgiveness, Your Majesty, Sir Axel. I cannot in good conscience accept the aid of my scribe—”
“Nor can I,” Kresten and Mikkel said at the same time.
Sir Axel stiffened as if preparing for battle. “They have been instructed not to step in to provide assistance unless you specifically ask for it or are at risk of losing your life.”
“Even then,” I protested, “I could not welcome the help. For surely I would rather perish than be known as a weak prince who couldn’t survive on his own.”
“Your courage is commendable.” The king shifted his thick royal robe of luxurious bearskin to reveal the sword his father had bestowed upon him at his Testing. “And I have faith each of you shall prevail. Nevertheless, we are ensuring your safety as best we can.”
As much as I wanted to argue with the king, I clamped my mouth closed and bowed my head. A moment later, Sir Axel began our introductions to our scribes. And when my companion stepped forward and lowered his hood, I breathed easier. The man was diminutive, thin, and foreign. I couldn’t discern his nationality, but from his olive skin, dark hair, and narrowed eyes, I suspected he hailed from one of the exotic nations in the East.
Such a small man could hardly be expected to be my bodyguard. And as a foreigner, would he know the language enough to write down my every action and word during the Testing?
He bowed low. “Your Highness, it will be my pleasure to serve you.”
At the smoothness of his greeting without a trace of a foreign accent, I startled. “Thank you . . .”
“My name is Tymur.” He switched seamlessly from Scanian to the language of the Great Isle. “But please, call me Ty.” Once again his inflection was flawless, perhaps even more so than my own, although my mother had spoken the native tongue of her people so often it was second nature.