“Very good,” I said, my voice thick. I tried a forkful of carrots, and the honey burst in my mouth. “Very, very good.” I took a sip of wine and sighed. “Excellent.” The cook smiled and bowed, his honor restored, and returned to the great cabin. I was left on deck watching the sunset and didn’t mind the solitude—I was glad to be out from the strained atmosphere of the dining guests. I munched on the soft roll, staring out over the water, and didn’t think much about anything.
I was retrieved for the dessert, a rich cake made of what Vice Admiral Havram said was chocolate, served with a pungent drink he called coffee. The cook once again stood over me as I took my first bite, and smiled at the look of bliss that must have crossed my face.
“I used to have a cup of hot chocolate every morning,” Captain Suiden said, his face also sublime as he ate his cake. “It is one of the very few things I miss about Tural.”
He took a sip of coffee. “This is the second.” He settled back in his chair, as mellow as I’d ever seen him.
I was pondering daily chocolate drinks and it took a minute to realize that the conversation had stopped and everyone was looking at Suiden with varying degrees of wariness and hostility. Everyone except the vice admiral.
“The two best things that have ever come out of Tural,” Havram agreed as he forked up a bite. “Though that’s putting the cat among the pigeons with a vengeance, Your Highness.”
Laurel chuffed briefly, his eyes slitting.
“Yes, sir.” Suiden took another sip of coffee. “But as I haven’t been in Tural for twenty years and have been in the Royal Army for almost as long, I think it’s obvious that my ties with the land of my birth have been severed. Nor have I hidden that I once had them.”
Port wine and a platter of cheese had also been provided and Laurel Faena had opted for both. He speared a couple of pieces of cheese and transferred them to his plate. “I believe that would be rather hard to do, honored captain.” He rumbled, a cross between a purr and a laugh. “I thought the ship’s crew was going to have kittens this afternoon when you reminded them that you were once a Turalian sea captain. Clan marks, earrings, tattoos, and all.”
I became very interested in my cake.
“How do you mean, Ambassador?” one of the senior captains of the fleet asked.
“Come, now,” the vice admiral said, sipping his own coffee. “Didn’t you see His Highness’ ship yaw?” He glanced over at Suiden. “What happened?”
“A course correction, sir,” Suiden replied.
“Oh, aye.” The vice admiral set his cup down. “A very drastic one, if I’m any judge.”
“Yes. I’ve relieved the helmsman of his duties until he learns how to steer properly.” Suiden shifted in his chair. “May I ask, sir, what’s the situation out here?”
“I must admit, Vice Admiral, that I too would like to know,” Chancellor Berle said as she sipped her wine.
“It’s tense. Very tense.” Havram finished the last of his cake and put his fork down. “It hasn’t come to an actual fight, but there has been a lot of posturing and sword rattling. Our merchants have been chased and threatened with boarding. Twice in the past month we’ve come upon Turalian warships where they shouldn’t have been, and have had to shoo them back. Fortunately, they allowed themselves to be shooed.”
A thought emerged and Suiden looked over at me. “You wish to say something, Lieutenant?”
Chancellor Berle frowned, but I ignored her. “Yes, Captain. Remember Dornel?”
“Isn’t that a checkpoint on the Banson, Rabbit?” Havram asked.
“Yes, sir,” I replied. “They were having problems too, with rumors of pirate attacks. Come to find out it was all a diversion so that the smugglers could get their goods through easier. It could be that the Turalians are doing the same.”
“A pretty elaborate diversion for what? Some lumber?” one of the captains remarked.
“Choice hardwood, pelts, skins, ivory, and slaves,” Havram replied before I could. “Even a dragon hoard.” He looked back at me. “So you think that the Turalians may be doing a ‘look over here,’ as they slip smuggled goods through somewhere else?”
“Maybe, sir. It worked in Dornel.”
“Damn them for bilge scum,” Havram said, “and I bet that Gherat gave them every plan for deployment that we ever had, him and Admiral Noal being such great drinking buddies.”
The silence was politically fraught.
The vice admiral laughed. “Oh, many of the officers drank with Gherat. He was a very convivial companion and knew where all the good taverns were.”
Startled at the thought of the Lord Admiral and Gherat in a dockside tavern, I spoke before I thought. “Really, sir? Admiral Noal too?”
A captain choked, spraying coffee across the table.
The vice admiral’s face stayed affable. “You know, lad, your papa had the same problem with his foot and his mouth.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well,” Uncle Havram said, taking pity on me and changing the subject, “talking won’t get us to the Border any sooner.” Pushing away from the table, he stood, and everyone scrambled to do the same. “Everyone prepare to sail tomorrow at first light.”
Once again Havram played the good host, escorting us to the gangway and standing there as the captains descended to their boats. And once again, I was last. I stood alone with him as I waited for the bosun’s chair’s return.
“You know, Rabbit, I would’ve had you reassigned to my ship for a number of reasons,” Havram remarked, “including the very selfish one that you’re my brother’s son. But the king’s directive was clear: You are to stay with the cat and the Turalian sea dragon—” He grinned as he saw my start. “Oh, aye, the man is something else, no mistake about it. He would have my captains for breakfast, ships and all.” He paused. “Have you ever seen him truly angry?”
“A couple of times, sir, and I was glad it wasn’t directed at me.”
“I bet, lad.”
“But he’s a good captain,” I hastened to add. “I’ve been under his command since I joined—”
“Freston Mountain Patrol, the insult of it!”
“I don’t mind, sir.” The bosun’s chair arrived and I went to sit on it, but the vice admiral stopped me.
“I have a berth for you if you ever wish to join me here, Rabbit. The king’s instructions can go begging.”
“Thank you, sir, but I’m fine.” I kept to myself that if I were to join my uncle, Suiden and Laurel would come and retrieve me bodily.
Uncle Havram’s blue eyes searched my face. “All right,” he said. “But remember that. I’ll not have another kinsman forced into something at someone else’s whim.” He then smiled and clapped me on my shoulder. “Down with you, lad, lest yon dragon starts breathing fire and smoke at the fear of losing part of his hoard.”
Chapter Fifty
To Foreign Chancellor Berle’s extreme annoyance, instead of escorting us directly to the Border, the Pearl Fisher led us to another group of ships.
“We are trying to prevent a war, Captain Suiden,” she told him as they stood together on the bridge. “We do not have time to ferry messages about bully boys playing posturing games.”
“More than ‘posturing games,’ Sra Berle,” Suiden replied. He paused a moment to read the signal flags from the vice admiral’s ship. “Goods and slaves have already been slipped past our navy—”
“But the smuggling ring has been smashed,” Berle objected.
“—and we have no idea what else has been passed through,” Suiden finished.
“What do you mean, Your Highness?” Lord Esclaur asked.
“Lord Gherat and his hostages are still missing,” Suiden replied.
“You don’t know that they are,” Berle said. “You don’t even know if they went a-sea. As you said yourself, it’s just a guess.”