Page 167 of Blood of the Stars

“If they believed him, you should have been hanged.” Gaeren’s mind raced as his guilt rose.

Riveran had been in danger because of him.

“Which is why Enla told the magistrate to mark me as a traitor instead. Keeping me one step away from a hanging was the only way she could protect me.”

Gaeren pursed his lips to hold in his bitter response.

Riveran shrugged. “The only thing I don’t understand is why Kendalyhn kept that part of the story to herself.”

Larkos’ frown replaced Breeve’s eager face. “I didn’t commit treason just to get caught with you two crying in each other’s arms on the docks.” He pulled on Gaeren’s arm with far more force than Breeve. “Move it. Now.”

They rushed through the near-empty docks, the hour too late even for revelers but too early for fisherman. As Starspeed came into view, a new sense of urgency and energy rushed through Gaeren. He couldn’t erase all that had happened in the past. Not for Daisy and not for Riveran. Not even for Enla or himself. But this was the best way he knew how to move forward.

Marnok boarded the boat with them, hesitating briefly when he took in the rigging. He slid a hand over the rope, glancing back at Gaeren with an almost fearful confusion. When the older man climbed the mainmast with the skill of an experienced sailor, Gaeren knew yet another fractured memory plagued Marnok. Another soul on board whom Gaeren could only hope to help by moving forward.

When he passed Thallahan, he paused, his mind tuning in to another memory. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting married in less than a moon? For Summer Solstice?”

Thallahan gave him a sheepish shrug. “We pushed it back. Maybe Harvest Day or Winter Solstice. I promised her we’d wed without threat of war.” He winced. “I may have also promised that you’d attend—with a princely gift.”

Gaeren laughed. “You realize I no longer have access to the royal coffers?”

“Aye.” Thallahan grinned. “You’ll find a way.”

By the time the Sun peeked over the horizon, Gullet had joined them, but they were far enough out of harbor that no one else would recognize them. Still, Gaeren scanned the waters uneasily. The landmarks of Elanesse and the northwest coastline of Vendaras were interrupted by three unfamiliar specks.

“Are we being followed?” Gaeren reached for the spyglass to identify the ships behind them.

“Ah, that,” Larkos muttered, pulling the spyglass from Gaeren’s hand. “I might’ve left that part out.”

Gaeren raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms.

“Riveran found twenty of your men,” the old man said with a shrug, then scanned the ship, drawing Gaeren’s attention to the fact that there were far more than twenty men aboard. “Seems the area he’s been living in the past couple of years is full of Recreants. Real ones. Not the ones who give me half-truths to test my loyalty after sailing with the likes of you.”

Gaeren frowned, taking in the strangers aboard his ship. A couple even had matching tattoos on their foreheads, labeling them as traitors like Riveran. “This should have been cleared with me. Starspeed is?—”

“Ah, quit your yapping.” Larkos smacked Gaeren on the back hard enough to keep him from arguing again. “You’re as bad as Gullet. They’ll fight for you, and that’s what matters. Even if most of the crew on the other three ships are pirates.” He laughed harder, like he’d been waiting to get this one last dig in.

Sailing the Northern Sea against the king’s commands. In league with pirates. Well, Gaeren supposed he’d known it would be near impossible to return to Elanesse. This sealed it.

He leaned back over the edge of the boat, taking in the spray of seawater as his homeland disappeared in the morning mist.

“I suppose Calia will never forgive me for stealing you away so soon again.”

“She might not forgive me,” Larkos said, “but you’ve got her wrapped around your little finger. She sent cookies and pastries for you, even though she barely gave me a farewell kiss.” He rubbed at his bond mark, the smile on his face suggesting his words were an exaggeration.

“What now?” Gaeren asked.

“Now we go in search of real freedom.”

“Freedom,” Gaeren scoffed. It had once sounded unattainable because of his forced ties to Elanesse, but now it seemed impossible because he would never be free to return. He rubbed at his own bond mark. Enla had wanted him to remove it. Did it even matter at this point? As a traitor, he wouldn’t be welcomed home, but they wouldn’t bother chasing him down.

“Freedom likely tastes different to every man,” Larkos mused. The rising Sun lit up the tattoos covering his bald head. “Could be preference, like how Breeve enjoys his meat burned to a crisp.” They both watched the young sailor fumbling with a pack of spices.

“He doesn’t like it that way. He’s just a terrible cook.”

“Aye.” Larkos chuckled. “Maybe it depends on how hungry a man is when he sits down for a meal. For some of these men, the freedom they’re starving for has the metallic bite of gold.”

“Blood also has a metallic bite,” Gaeren muttered.

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