Firebrand
This journey would be, she realized with some surprise, her first time on her own since before her travel into the future, since before even her mission into Blackveil. But the solitude was as she wished. She would face her journey all alone, and on her own terms.
I will regain my strength. I will and I must.
Condor danced beneath her, anxious to run, and she laughed. No, she was not really alone, and he’d have her home before she knew it.
MIDHAVEN HARBOR, COUTRE PROVINCE
Rider Ty Newland, sitting at a scarred table in the Whale’s Tooth Tavern with a tankard of ale before him, watched the young man enter from the street. His baggy trousers and striped shirt indicated he was a sailor, and his dusky skin suggested he was also Tallitrean. Unlike most sailors, his features were not gruff or weathered, but fine, almost delicate, and his body one of whipcord strength. Ty couldn’t take his eyes off him. When he caught the young man’s gaze, he smiled.
“Ahem.”
Another sailor dropped into the empty chair across the table from him, but this one he knew. He tried to see around her, but the young man had disappeared into another of the tavern’s rooms.
“Admiring the pretty scenery?” Beryl Spencer asked.
“Was,” he said, “until you came along.”
A knowing smile crossed Beryl’s face, and it was not a particularly friendly one. She was not the usual Green Rider, but a spy that King Zachary often sent on secretive missions. Currently, she was attired as a sailor to blend in with the harbor folk. He could not remember the last time he had seen her in a Rider uniform.
“I have a lead,” she said.
Finally, he thought. She’d been hunting for Lord Amberhill most of the winter as a result of the information Karigan had brought back from the future.
“Met a shipmaster of a sealing vessel who took Lord Amberhill on as a passenger last year, along with his manservant. They disembarked near an archipelago off Bairdly.”
“What in the hells does he want with an island? Or an archipelago?” Ty asked.
“Good question. The archipelago is uninhabited and has a bad reputation among sailors for being uncanny. Lots of stories of lost mariners and the like, and of late, sea monsters.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Tall tales, legends. Sailors are very superstitious.”
“So, now what?”
“I am going to take ship with this captain, and she will leave me off where she left off Amberhill. I need to buy my own skiff or sailing dory, apparently. I am sure the king won’t mind the expense.” Again, that smile. “I will investigate the islands for sign of Lord Amberhill, and if I find him?”
“You will drag him back to Sacor City,” Ty concluded.
“That would be optimal,” she replied, “though not expedient.”
He could only guess what she’d consider expedient. Beryl had many skills, and he would not have been surprised if assassin was one of them.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked.
“I want you to return to Sacor City and tell the king and captain what I just told you, and that I will endeavor to bring his cousin back, tied hand and foot, or otherwise.”
That, Ty thought, would solve many of their problems before they even began. He took a final sip of his ale, and when he set his tankard back down, Beryl was gone just like that. He sighed, dropped a couple coppers on the table, and left with a look of regret over his shoulder toward the room into which the Tallitrean had disappeared. Outside, a southerly breeze mixed with the harbor’s briny sea scent and hinted at a fine spring day.
He strode toward the stables where he had boarded his horse, Crane. They were going home, back to Sacor City.