There were a lot of decisions to make. Should any of them go? The obvious answer was that all of them should. Each possessed skills in negotiating, transcription, and the study of hundreds, if not thousands of earlier treaties. If none of them accompanied me, and I managed to sign a treaty, but Kondor had its people writing the terms, the result might be worse than no treaty. It might be considered treason when I returned home.
I threw the door to the cabin where they worked and allowed it to slam into the backstop with a solid slap that drew their instant attention. Without preamble, I said, “We’re turning the ship around. Not quitting, by any means. I intend to get to Dagger one way or another, probably by foot—even if it takes fifty or sixty days to walk there across the desert.”
Their faces revealed fear.
I continued, “I would like all of you to go with me but know that won’t happen. If you believe you can make the trip, tell me later. If not, take whatever portion of responsibility you share for the mission, condense it, and present it to me along with alternatives and problems I should be aware of. There may only be three guards and me, so consider our limitations.”
Before any could speak, I left and slammed the door shut behind me.
Instead of waiting for my meal to be served in my cabin, I walked confidently to the tiny dining room and served myself a helping of two kinds of hard cheese, stale bread, and hard crackers. I filled two mugs with white wine so I wouldn’t have to stand up to refill them.
The table barely held my food and drink. People stared at me. I ignored them. A man approached me. He was tall, handsome, young, and full of himself. He gave a slight bow, more a nod of his head. It was a bow that I considered offensive. If you are going to show respect, do it right. The proper way is to bend from the waist and display the back of your neck so I can use my sword to cut off your head if I feel so inclined.
“Princess?”
“Yes?”
He moved to sit. “May I join you?”
“No.” My sharp answer caught him between standing and sitting, an awkward position. He managed to regain his feet before I said, “Have you anything to say?”
“Uh, I was going to chat with you. You know, like fellow travelers who are being friendly.”
His demeanor had transformed from over-confident to simpering fool. “I don’t chat.”
He retreated.
I was not going to become the focus of a tale he would tell his drunken friends—the time he ate and chatted with a princess. There was too much else on my mind. I slowly gnawed the edges of salted crackers and the centers of hard, bland cheese, while downing both mugs of wine before finishing the food. Then I refilled both mugs. It was that sort of day. After taking my seat again, I decided I was not hungry and concentrated on drinking the wine.
“Why are we turning?” a woman asked loud enough for all to hear, a touch of fear in her tone.
A glance at the window confirmed her question. The captain had decided enough was enough. The ship would sail back to port, drop off some of the passengers in Trager and then continue back to Dire. Passengers remaining in Trager could arrange for later ships. Speculation about the turn came from every table, but mine. It wasn’t my place to inform them.
Will sat down at my table, uninvited, and drew glares from the pretty man who had tried to impress me earlier. He said, “Do we know who is going with us and who is not?”
“So far, only the four of us. I’ve given the scribes an option and ordered a concise briefing of what I should be aware of while negotiating a treaty.”
He scowled. “If it were that easy, someone would have printed a little handbook for princesses.”
That sort of attitude was why familiarity was discouraged by my tutors and mentors. I would accept that sort of statement from Damon. Kendra too, if she ever spoke like that, which she wouldn’t unless talking to Damon. I returned his scowl and planned my biting retort but gave it up. Too much time had already passed. Besides, he would brush aside my words and continue as if he never heard them. He worked for my father, only technically for me.
I said, “Do you have any advice?”
“Age twenty years.”
I furrowed my eyebrows. And bit off another angry retort. Will was not the sort to tease. He was answering my question and I needed to remain calm and listen to him. It was probably as hard for him to tell me as if was to hear.
He continued, “I’m serious. I see before me a pampered girl-woman. A spoiled child who is gracious and wanting to please. One who tells her staff, ‘I will either have my way in the treaty or send you home to be spanked’ instead of directing them with orders. In its place of stamping your foot in anger, you need to take charge like a military commander.”
Will was not an ordinary man in word or deed. When he had been my age, he had fought in a war so fiercely he’d been singled out by my father to be awarded a title and lands bestowed on him. Now he was twice my age and had learned courtly manners and absorbed wisdom along the way. I needed to listen. A wag of my finger told him to keep talking.
“I know you cannot age twenty years in a few days, but you can make changes that will help. You will have to become imperial. By that, I mean you will stop being nice and asking people to do your bidding. You will order them. Your tone of voice will be cutting. No matter how servants attempt to please you, it will not be acceptable. If a pillow is slipped under your bottom as you sit, it will be too thin, the material too coarse, the design ugly. You will make those things known.”
“I’m not like that.”
“And there is your problem. I tell you what needs to be done and you revert to responding like a little girl.”
“I did not!”
I heard the childishness in my answer. He smiled in a way that fueled my anger.
“You are a monster,” I spat.
“So, rush home and tell your father I talked mean. That’s what little girls do, right?”
He was pushing me. Attempting to teach me something about myself. I understood that. I didn’t like it. “What should I do?”
He flicked his eyes to the young man who had attempted to sit with me.
“Oh,” I muttered.
“You destroyed him with a few words. Nobody in Kondor, including your guards and especially me, are your friends. You have none. You have only your duty to your king and Dire. Nobody is going to sign a treaty favorable to Dire with a spoiled princess who does not even know her demands.”
“A bitch. You want me to become a bitch.”
He smiled his agreement.
Maybe he was right.
CHAPTER NINE
Damon
Kendra said to me, “Damon, the desert sun has turned your skin shades darker already. You look more like one born in Kaon daily.”
While we shivered with cold on the bank of the river through the night, my mind had worked furiously. Without a single coin between us, there were five mouths to feed and proper desert-clothing to buy for protection from the sun, not to mention weapons, transportation, lodging, and a hundred other things. What a difference a few coins rubbing against each other can make—or better put, the lack of those coins and the hardships we’d endure because of it.
The night seemed endless. When the sun finally rose, we were all tired from lack of sleep, cold, hungry, and of course, we were without money to solve those issues. We gathered near the edge of the river where we all drank our fill and allowed the morning sun to beat down and warm us, despite our sunburned skins.