Page 1 of Ties of Bargains

Chapter One

His brother was dying, his father was bargaining with thefeeënvolk, and Harmen, heir to the Duchy of Tulpenland, was going for a walk. After all, appearances must be kept.

Harm strolled out the door of the royal palace onto the brick road stretching between the building behind him and the canal before him.

The canal bustled, from the trading boats with their bottoms laden with goods and their high gunnels rising only just above the water to the passenger boats packed with people traveling around the city of Tulpenwerf. Even a few barges trundled along the waterway, laden with farm goods and farmers, distinctive in their wooden shoes. A few of the captains and crew members lifted hands in a wave to Harm.

Harm acknowledged with waves of his own, even as he drew deep breaths of the scents of water and fish, fresh air and sun-heated bricks. The walk was supposed to clear his head, but it was also a chance to be seen. Hisfamily might be falling apart, but the people on these streets must only see their prince bearing up under this burden with all the fortitude expected of him.

With that in mind, Harm’s blond hair was neatly tied back at the nape of his neck and his beard meticulously trimmed. His black jacket hugged his shoulders over a crisp white shirt and gray trousers. He looked nothing like the rumpled, unwashed person he’d been an hour ago when the palace steward had awakened him from his night-long vigil by his brother’s bedside.

A brief walk. That was all he’d allow himself. By then, hopefully, his father would have returned from bargaining with thefeeënvolkfor good or ill.

Harm plastered an empty smile on his face as he set out along the canal, lengthening his stride to stretch his long legs. He tipped his head to those he passed, wishing them good morning as they wished him the same in return. Stranger or neighbor alike, it was impossible to walk the canals of Tulpenwerf without being thoroughly greeted.

The tall red brick rowhouses on either side of the canal towered above him, crowded against each other as they leaned slightly over the canal. Their roofs glinted in a variety of tiles, from orange red to charcoal gray. Pots by the doors overflowed with various flowers, including tulips, adding bright spots of color amid all the red brick and red clay tiles.

Harm crossed a bridge and turned down a street that bordered an even smaller canal. Shops lined the street with quarters above for the shop owners. One shop advertised cheese while numerous restaurants lined thestreet from the pubs with beer on tap even at this time of morning to eating houses serving breakfast.

He chose one he hadn’t patronized lately and took a seat on one of the chairs set at small tables crowded next to the canal.

Within moments, the proprietor hurried to Harm’s table, giving a slight bow. “Heer Harmen. It is my pleasure to serve you this morning. How is Heer Gijs?”

“He is hanging in there.” Harm flashed a tight smile. He wasn’t going to lie, but he couldn’t tell the truth either.

His little brother was near to death. A week ago, he’d been fine. But now, the best physicians in Tulpenland could do nothing but keep him comfortable while his fever raged and his body wasted away. Only magic could save him now.

Thus the reason Harm’s father, Duke Johannes, had gone to the tulip fields last night, hoping to find afeefrolicking through the spring blooms.

It was a risk. Thefeeënvolkmight not help. Or they’d snatch him back to their own realm instead of bargaining.

But thefeeënvolkwere their last hope to save Gijs.

Harm couldn’t tell this restaurant proprietor any of that. The last thing the people needed to hear was that their ruler had been reduced to such desperate straits that he risked a bargain with thefeeënvolk. The situation was bad enough with King Hendrik, the king of the neighboring kingdom of Suskeny, rattling his sabers. The people did not need to know that they might lose their king during a time of such tensions.

“He is in our thoughts.” The man nodded somberly, pausing a beat before he asked, “What would you have this morning?”

Harm ordered his usual breakfast, buttered bread, a side of cheese, and milk to drink. As he waited for his food, he stared at the canal without seeing, absently returning the greetings of those who passed by.

What would he do if his father didn’t succeed in bargaining for a healing potion from thefeeënvolk? Worse, what if his father simply never returned? Harm would become the duke, his brother would still be dying, and his duchy would still be facing the threat of King Hendrik’s posturing.

When his plate of food was placed before him, Harm dug in with a nod of thanks to the proprietor. While he would normally linger, he ate quickly and paid the proprietor, who didn’t even resist the payment. There was no such thing as groveling to the duke or his son by offering free food. No, here in Tulpenland, business was business. No one refused payment, and everyone squeezed each coin for all it was worth.

Once he finished, Harm hurried back the way he’d come to the royal palace instead of taking a longer walk along the Ronddwalende River, the water source for the canals that provided such a vital network of trade and defense.

As Harm climbed the palace’s front step, a guard opened one of the double doors for him. Harm nodded, then continued inside.

The front foyer was tiled in blue and white up to thechair rail, then papered in blue to the ceiling. A broad, dark-stained wooden staircase wound upward.

Stijn, the palace’s steward, halted at the base of the stairs. “Welcome back, Heer Harmen.”

“Has my father returned?” Harm scrubbed his boots on the front mat. One didn’t track mud through the palace. Cleanliness was one of the most lauded virtues here in Tulpenland.

“Yes, he has. He is with Heer Gijs.” Stijn gestured toward the stairs.

“Bedankt.” Harm tried to put all his gratefulness into the word as he dashed for the stairs, taking them two at a time.

At the top, Harm raced down the corridor at a pace that wasn’t becoming for the heir to a duchy, but he didn’t care. Around him, the walls were clad in plaster and wood paneling, covering the brick and creating a cozier feel. Cerulean rugs covered the floor from wall-to-wall while plates of blue-and-white pottery decorated the walls.

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