Page 25 of The Queens and the Kings
“And what?”
He shrugged. “Sail for Narpurra and find a way to work on a merchant vessel, or bum off a frigate.” Malcolm nodded to Henrik. “A former soldat would find work on a frigate in about five seconds. Especially from Narpurra. They ask no questions.”
Britt interrupted by slashing a hand through the air. “Stop. It’s fine. After that wyvern appeared, I can’t say that I blame her for wanting answers, however she can get them. This is a faster and more certain path to Selma and the mainland, as well as safety for Kapurnick. We need to know.”
“True, but it’s dangerous.”
Henrik stepped closer. His hand smoldered along the small of her back when he set it there. “She’ll be safe.”
Malcolm met his gaze. With a long breath out, he surrendered by raising a hand. “I trust you both.” To Britt, he said, “Don’t be stupid.”
He lifted the other hand, shaking a paper back and forth, and extended it to Henrik. “I know people on the mainland that might aid your search for Selma. There’s a scribe in the Lordlady’s employ to whom I’ve written. Here’s a copy of the letter that I sent, to validate that you’re the right person. Find him. He’ll help you access records.”
Britt perked up.
“Really?”
Malcolm flicked the rolled paper open to reveal a handwritten message with smudged ink. Hasty, but concise.Stenbergandsoldatandbirth motherflashed on the page as she skimmed the writing. Malcolm snapped his wrist again and the paper curled together. He slipped a piece of twine around the middle to encompass it, and passed it to Henrik.
“I hope it helps.”
“Thank you.” Henrik held out a hand, which Malcolm accepted in a quick clasp. “It means a lot.”
Malcolm nodded to Britt. “Take care of her for me, will you? She needs it.”
Britt choked back a string of chastisements. Instead, she threw herself into his arms. He held her tight.
“Take care of the draguls,” she whispered. “Tell them I’ll be back.”
Malcolm laughed, shoving her away. “Don’t be dramatic, Britt. It’s just a spying mission involving Elestra’s most powerful leader and the potential for a catastrophic war that we’d be unlikely to survive. You can tell the draguls yourself when you return.”
Chapter Eight
HENRIK
The sea slappedthe ship’s hull, spritzing Henrik in the face. Leaning over the side, he drew in deep breaths. Thanks to a potion from Pedr, his initial rush of seasickness passed faster than usual. He hadn’t spent all that long on land in between trips, which helped. His stomach still jolted with every sickening rise and fall, but he didn’t lose it as often. Within a day, this would pass.
He pressed his forehead to his arm and breathed deep salty sea spray. His thoughts meandered from the wyvern to the mainland to the threat of the Lordlady.
Lordlady.
Shite, but he had a lot to learn.
Henrik knew little of the mainland. Basic political structure, a few of the Generals’ names, but nothing of profound depth. The Lordlady was a leader of near-absolute power, but not usually regarded as a tyrant. At least, not thisone. Others in the past, perhaps.
Disdain circled his mind with his impressions of the Lordlady. Henrik had never met the political figure, nor beennear him. The Lordlady rarely ventured to The Isles, having too much landmass to travel to keep his lands in check.
Yet, His Glory barked insults at the Lordlady with little regard to who heard. Oliver gave disparaging remarks about the inefficacy of mainland leaders and hated the Lordlady because it was his job to do so.
The quiet that stole over Britt the moment General Helsing revealed her requirement was a familiar response. Britt acted like that in his home, when they first met. Cornered. Distrustful. Wary. The memories didn’t stir pride or warmth. He couldn’t fathom treating Britt so coldly ever again.
Britt, who stood alone before her powerful aunt, mired in the wish of familial connection. She found empty ground. It reminded him that they weren’t so different. Both orphaned. Both fighting commanding figures.
General Helsing alluded to a likelihood that she expected Henrik to also speak with the Lordlady, but this made no sense at all. He didn’t seek an audience with the leader, only Selma. Though he’d stand at Britt’s side through anything. He hadn’t had much warmth for General Helsing at the beginning.
He’d experienced even less after her demands.
Another wrench of his stomach sent him doubled over the edge until the nausea cleared. Thankfully, Agnes and Britt had linked arms at departure and vanished somewhere below, giggling. It spared him the agony of her seeing him retch out last night’s food. Einar, used to Henrik’s seasickness, leaned into the wind with his eyes closed. He lingered near Pedr, who stood at the wheel, brooding over the slate carpet of gray clouds. Waves flung foam into the air like angry devils.
