Chapter 16

“Ours is a tragic age. Coastal raiders stole my favorite horse and my wife. I raised that stallion and I’ll never forgive them for taking him.”

-Count Vee, Conquest Point’s Envoy (excerpt from Princess Wyrd’s diary)

A rough looking wagon trundled down a side lane, turning off the main road. It was hard to miss from the carriage window as we stopped. A footman opened our door so we could exit the Count’s carriage. Pausing, Scratch and I adjusted our garments and swords. Sea birds circling above were calling to each other unpleasantly. Just a few blocks away, a ship’s mast peeked out over the top of the buildings. The Prince’s ship was in the inner harbor. Off to my right, the workman’s wagon halted; the few structures in the narrow lane looked like dark, brick-styled warehouses, which made sense to me since in front of us was the Customs House. All the trade ships that docked in the harbor had to pay the King’s tax before depositing their goods in the warehouses. I suspected the Customs House was intended to be a proud symbol of the sovereign’s power. The white-stone, three-story building was the largest and the most prominent feature on the main street. Four massive columns stood out front, holding the roof up. At the center of the structure a red door was flanked by impressive lion statues.

No one greeted us. A shared look with my sergeant convinced me that he wasn’t happy about the lack of greeting either. It wasn’t like the Count to leave me flatfooted­­ -- decorum was important to him. An uneasy feeling hovered over me, and I wasn’t sure why.

“Milord, the Count is waiting for you inside the Customs House. A clerk will guide you to him,” the footman explained. “He may still be in a meeting.”

I put my hand on Scratch’s shoulder and said, “Whatever misery we are about to endure is on the other side of that door.”

He laughed. “Let’s endure the nobles together.”

Inside, a clerk led us around a few turns and up some narrow stairs to the third floor. He explained it was the fastest way to the meeting. At the top of the stairs was a narrow hallway lined with gold gilded mirrors, with a single door at the end. Meaningless noise drifted through the door from a number of voices. The clerk ushered us into a small meeting room filled with gentry. The old floor was full of creaks and worn boards, giving away the age of the building.

In one corner, two female minstrels played harp-like instruments, but they looked unhappy because of the crowd’s noise. I didn’t see the Count standing around anywhere and our guide had disappeared. Across the room was another set of doors. Beside the other entrance was a long table set with goblets and water pitchers, but otherwise empty; however, cloaks and hats were draped over the table’s chairs. I suspected a number of people were temporarily out of the room. Scratch and I made awkward small talk with a few men as we waited for something to happen. Apparently, the Black Prince and his cronies had stepped out to relieve themselves and to go for a smoke. The crowd was grumbling about the length of time they had been stuck in the room. They wanted to disband and go about their business.

We didn’t wait long. The far door was flung open and a rush of well-dressed nobles strode in like they owned the place. I saw Count Vee enter last. He looked surprised to see me, but his eyes showed relief at my arrival. Quick as his overweight frame could traverse the crowd of bystanders, he pushed his way to us.

He spread his hands in welcome. His shoulders were square and stiff, full of tension. “I was waiting for you on the main stairs. How did you get in here?”

I looked at Scratch who shrugged, looking entertained. “It appears the clerk took us up the back stairs,” I declared.

“I do hope you haven’t been waiting long,” he continued with honest discomfort.

“No, but, what is this all about?” I inquired.

“The Black Prince is trying to win hearts and minds,” he whispered. “He has spent the morning giving speeches and shaking hands with the local gentry. He hasn’t visited his sister here before, so he is a bit of a novelty, and he is finding good favor. He brought a load of mercenaries, which has pleased the city fathers and their sons.”

“Okay, why am I here?”

“The story of your involvement in tricking the enemy to withdraw has leaked out,” Count Vee offered. “The Prince wants to meet you. I’ve only mentioned you are Lady Derwen’s husband. So he thinks of you as a merchant prince. To be honest, I wouldn’t put it past him to ask for a loan.”

I laughed. He looked at me stone-faced. “You’re serious?” I queried. “Couldn’t you portray me in some other fashion?”

“To be honest, telling him your history of fighting wouldn’t make him friendly,” he meekly confided. “You’d be a threat to his plans.”

“That’s great, a jealous prince,” I whispered back.

“I told him, like me, you travel with a reasonable guard. You’re with your other wife, and that we happened to share the same road together,” he continued in a whisper. “He doesn’t know Derwen nor of her business ventures, other than she is landed and has money.”

“You left a lot of details out, which could lead to trouble,” I warned.

“I was trying to keep you out of my duties,” he answered, clearly looking for my understanding.

“How did that work out for you?” I whispered back, and he looked away. “I thought as much.”

“He wants to meet the pale skinned merchant that travels on mules that caused the Raiders to flee. The Prince has made it a joke. The Raiders fleeing from armed men on mules. It is a ridiculous picture, if you look at it from his point of view,” Count Vee said with a gulp. “He is using you to point out that the Raiders are scavengers, not warriors. Men that can be hunted down by organized forces.”

“Uh huh,” I responded, knowing there was more.

“The fact you have a short stature and a sort of strange look did come up,” he confessed.

“So, I am an object of amusement,” I said, not bothering to hold my voice down any longer.

He grabbed my arm. “Please, just go along with this. I’ve gained his confidence and you know who, will like that.”

Scratch shook his head, but wisely didn’t speak his mind. Neither did I, letting my annoyance with Vee subside for the sake of good relations with the Princess; I’d fulfilled my part of the mission, but he deserved a chance to reach his goals.

Pretending to be happy again, he put on his best face, and quickly described the nobles near the far table as the Black Prince’s circle of friends. Each one was the youngest member of a noble family, a well connected family. After the brief comments, he escorted me towards the main table, pointing out the Black Prince on the way. The royal was both younger and taller than Captain Minetos, his half-brother. He looked about my age, perhaps twenty-one years old. The Prince’s caramel skin was more of a medium brown color, deeper and richer than the olive coloring of an average Amarian native, which probably indicated some distant roots had come from Convey. In fact, I only thought about the Black Prince’s coloring because it was so different from Princess’s Wyrd’s. If it weren’t for a few similar features with Wyrd, like their distinctive ears, I’d not have believed they were related. While her brown eyes were attractive, his brown eyes were unappealingly set wide apart from the nose. Princess Wyrd’s skin was free of blemishes. The Black Prince had a number of pre-cancerous spots on his cheek. His nose was flat and wide, with overly large lips that pressed together in displeasure. “From the back, he looks well built,” I thought. “Yet, when you see the whole man he seems less impressive.”

He was talking to a glum looking aide. Count Vee tried to interrupt. However, the Black Prince gave a small flick of his hand, heavy with ruby adorned rings, indicating we should step back and let him finish. His accented baritone voice projected rancor. “Just get it done, and inform all the regiments to gather tomorrow and I’ll address them.”

“Yes, your Majesty. I will call the province troops together in your name, but if your father hears of it...”

“Don’t concern yourself with the King,” the Black Prince snapped, which caused the man to bow and withdraw hastily from the room. The aide saw me for the first time. His face was made for scowls, thick lips and bushy brows, drooping eyelids. When he smiled at me a broken eyetooth spoiled his otherwise clean look. In that one moment we analyzed each other, and then he adjusted his scarlet cloak and left. Somehow I sensed we’d be seeing each other again.

The withdrawal of the noble seemed to placate the Black Prince, whose tense, brown brows smoothed and relaxed slightly. His dark eyes beneath his prominent brows turned to me, and with a patently false smile he greeted us.

“Please, come closer, let me get a good look at you.” The Prince offered in a formal invitation, more or less an order.

“Of course, Milord.” The Count’s cultured voice mixed well with the nobles. They had similar accents.

We moved to where he had pointed, but then something distracted him and any softness fled from the Prince’s features as he scanned the room.

I bristled at his cold greeting, which carried a condescending tone. Indeed, I struggled not to let out a sigh. “This guy is your typical silver-spooned egotist,” I thought.

“This is your friend?” he asked the Count, stiffly.

“He knows my wife,” I said. The Black Prince looked surprised I had addressed him so informally. “Count Vee asked me to drop by to meet you. However, from the look of all the people milling around, it looks like your meeting is breaking up. Am I late?”

He looked around and caught my meaning. The crowd wasn’t paying attention to the head table anymore. The gentlemen were in small huddles talking to themselves, as if the Black Prince hadn’t returned.

The Black Prince rapped the table, calling out. “Gentlemen, on second thought, we will adjourn to the Silver Coin. We will down a few pints of ale together and then dine!”

The crowd gave a cheer, coming alive for the Prince.

“Right, let’s go.” There wasn’t the smallest sliver of patience in Prince’s tone.

The Prince’s entourage gathered and waited for the Prince to lead them down the stairs. Count Vee stood and motioned for me to get up quickly too. I waited until the Prince exited the room and started down the stairs before I stood up.

“There is no reason to hurry,” I offered, pointing to a large portion of the crowd taking the back stairs. “Not many are going to join him. They saw what they wanted this morning. The Black Prince doesn’t know them by name or sight, and they know it. They have businesses and estates to run.”

“Well, he knows me, so we have to follow him,” Count Vee insisted. “Besides, his party is staying at that inn, so anything we drink will likely go on his tab.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his predicament, but he took no offense. I gave his shoulder a squeeze and followed him in the wake of the royal retinue. My first impression of the Black Prince wasn’t favorable, he seemed the embodiment of a self-entitled lord. Scratch attended us as soon as we made it to the stairs, and from the look on his face I thought he wasn’t too impressed with the Prince either.

While we trailed the royal herd of stomping boots through the Customs House, Count Vee confided in me, using a low voice. “The Prince’s mercenary company has a bad reputation, unlike Lady Derwen’s ‘Old Bucks.’ I happen to know that company has taken advantage of rebellious situations in the Amarian kingdom by liberally putting serfs to the sword and selling ‘outlaw’ women in Conquest Point. It pads their pockets.”

I considered what he had said while we walked, and then I held up our small party before we exited the building. We let the few gentlemen that were following us pass through the doorway before I spoke again.

“Scratch, what do you know about the Black Prince’s paid help?” I whispered.

Scratch shrugged. “They are known for their brute force rather than for their skills as warriors. The Prince has selected men that aren’t overly reliable in a serious fight. They are more or less enforcers of the peace. When the King or a noble doesn’t want dirty work to land on their own vassals, they hire such men.”

“Not a ringing endorsement from either of you,” I responded, as I pushed the door open and indicated to the Count to lead the way to the inn. He walked ahead and I followed him into the large anteroom, which had two people standing under an archway.

A merchant in a well-worn coat lectured his assistant or apprentice on keeping his mouth closed and ears open while inside the inn. The young man’s eyes shifted to us, which alerted the merchant to our presence. Acting as if we weren’t there, the merchant promptly pulled the young man through the inner door to the inn. In fact, the merchant and the apprentice bypassed the common room and ducked into a side room. I lost interest in the chance encounter as Count Vee guided me by the elbow to the long bar in the common room. He purposely walked us by all the tables and patrons. The nobles had already settled at a group of round tables, away from the bar, and a number of barmaids were hovering over them, taking orders. The rest of the patrons in the inn looked like local dockhands and laborers.