Page 19 of The Empty Throne

Outside in the private yard used almostexclusively by the royal family, a small group awaited him: Hargdenand two other bodyguards; Tol and Wishta; and of course Lysyken,barely able to stand on his feet, dressed in borrowed clothes andfurs, looking about one breath away from falling over.

"Mount up, and we ride as quickly as LordLysyken—"

"Lysa is fine." Shifting awkwardly when theyall stared at him, he added, "I hate my father, and I hate my name.The few people in my life that I actually like all call me Lysa.You can drop the lord too. Seems kind of pointless, given thecircumstances."

Kite nodded. "That brings up a good point: notitles while we're traveling. No formality at all. We travel asdiscreetly as a group of seven people clearly in a hurry can. We'llsort out our story when we make camp for the night. Finaldestination is the Kuluris Estate on Sharktooth Island. Today,we're making for Crescent Point. Any questions?"

Hargden stepped forward. "Should we expectpursuers?"

"I don't know," Kite said. "Given the curseinvolved, the lengths to which Fazekas must have gone to put it inplace, we must assume he can track Lysa as well."

Lysa swore softly, and from the expression onhis face, that hadn't occurred to him. Surprising, but a matter foranother time.

"Understood," Hargden replied.

"Let's move out, then. We don't break exceptfor the caribous." Swinging up into the saddle of his own caribou,Kite waited while everyone else did the same, then wheeled aroundand led the way out of the yard and away from Cremin Palace.

Seven

Like always, Faldisio smelled overwhelminglyof fish. Since it wasn't along the coast of the dead sea like halfof the major cities in Cremisio, the country relied heavily onFaldisio's ability to get literally anything out of the ocean. Mostof it was preserved via magic to stay fresh and sent onward to therest of the country, the rest frozen or preserved to be sold bothin country and abroad.

Thankfully, after a few minutes, his nosestopped noticing the smell.

The first order of business was food, whichalso helped with walking around a bit to ease muscles sore fromhard travel in a rickety carriage. Bidding the man who'd given himthe ride farewell, Bittersea headed off.

He stopped at a street cart serving ramen,the scent of the broth a promising sign the vendor knew what theywere about.

The woman operating the cart gave him aconsidering look as he pushed through the flaps around the cart andtook a seat. "What'll it be?"

"Whatever you recommend. I'll pay to haveplenty of it."

"One kenat, and you won't leave hungry."

He flipped her the coin, and after catchingand tucking it away, the woman set to work briskly fixing him alarge bowl of red miso ramen, the perfectly cooked noodles piledwith soft-boiled egg, bamboo shoots, mushrooms, and crispy, stillhot pork cutlets.

Thanking her, Bittersea ate at a leisurelypace, enjoying the moment of calm before he must return towork.

When not a drop of broth remained, he thankedthe woman again and went on his way, pausing at another stall forsome cookies. They were a simple treat, made of little more thanlard and flour, the ones he chose flavored respectively with sweetpotato and green tea. They were the specialty of where he'd grownup, on the small island off the west coast of Cremisio, right inthe heart of the sea his ancestors had destroyed.

The popularity of the cookie had spreadacross Cremisio, and while none of them tasted as good as thosehe'd grown up with, they were certainly nothing to complainabout.

An icy wind blew in, making him shiverslightly.

No meat on you. No fat either. What sort ofCremision are you?

A bad one. We already established that.

Bittersea frowned and pulled up the collar ofhis fur-lined jacket. It would only get colder from here. A couplemore days and the sun would cease to rise for months. Hopefully,he'd make it to the Lindquist estate before that; everything was athousand times more difficult without natural light, even for anexperienced predator like him.

You don't have to take your precious kniveseverywhere. What's going to attack you here? The rice wine? Thefermenting bean paste?

What can I say, I need my knives like youneed to be stupid, Lindquist.

His next destination was a temple.Thankfully, temples were never hard to find, even temples to theless popular gods. The first one he found, though, looked more likea drug den, so he passed it by. Drugs of that sort were for thedesperate and foolish.

And while Bittersea might occasionally dothings rightfully described as foolish, it wasn't something he madea practice of.

He had more luck with the second temple,though it was old-fashioned to the point of relic. Likely it hadbeen here before Faldisio, and the city had shaped and grown aroundit.

---