“Over an hour.”
I blinked again and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
He uncrossed his arms and planted his fists on his hips and asked back, “And why would I do that?”
I put my hands to my hips too and shot back, “Oh, I don’t know, Kell. Probably so I’d have more time to consider this dilemma and maybe come up with an answer rather than receiving the news there was a dilemma at the last possible moment so my only choice is to freak out and make a rushed decision about what the heck we’re going to do. Jeez, two heads are better than one,” I ended on an annoyed snap.
“Not when one ‘a those heads belongs to a woman,” Kell fired back.
Oh no he did not.
I glared at him.
Then I ordered, “Prepare a boat and pick men you trust to accompany me but the party must include Gunner and Stephan.”
It was his turn to blink. Then he breathed out a, “What?” that clearly stated he thought I was insane.
“Prepare a boat and pick men you trust to accompany me,” I repeated.
“Woman –” Kell started but I interrupted him.
“Kell, we have a demand from a king. We’re in his waters and my husband is in his country doing something he will probably not like. Frey is not set to return for days.” I leaned forward and reminded him, “We need to buy time and the only one who can do that is me.”
“Princess, that man has known the other you since she was a baby and you have never seen him in your life,” he reminded me back.
I threw out a hand and declared, “I’ll wing it.”
His brows shot together again and he grunted, “Wing it?”
“Make it up as I go along, wing it. Now send a message that I’m rousing myself for the journey, prepare a boat and select men you trust to accompany me.”
He didn’t move. He scowled.
Then he announced, “Drakkar is not gonna like this, woman.”
I didn’t figure he would. Then again, I figured he’d come to understand I had no choice.
With any luck.
“I’ll deal with that later.”
“Hopefully it won’t be much later, say, he already knows what’s happenin’, he’s makin’ his play and that play is abducting you, incarceratin’ your rounded arse in one ‘a his castles and sendin’ word to your father that he ain’t real happy his niece and nephew-in-law are runnin’ amok in his kingdom. Somethin’, by the by, your papa don’t know balls about.”
Hmm.
“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it,” I decided.
Kell scowled at me some more but still didn’t move.
“Kell, time is wasting,” I reminded him.
He ignored me and continued to scowl at me. Then something shifted on his face, the scowl was still there, just not as severe and something had lit in his eyes.
I didn’t have time to decipher it. I had no time at all and I needed to get changed before all this went down. I wasn’t wearing breeches to this meeting. I was meeting my uncle, king to princess, and I needed an outfit that would remind him of that.
So I prompted, somewhat loudly, “Kell!”
That was when he muttered, “He said you had the spirit.”
“What?” I asked impatiently and Kell’s unfocused eyes focused on me.
“Nothin’,” he grunted. “I’ll send the message, prepare the boat and gather the men.” He lifted a finger and jabbed it at me. “But, woman, I’m gonna be one ‘a those men. You stay close to me, you pay attention to me and you learn real quick to read me. We got no choice, you and me, but to get through this bloody mess together. Don’t go goin’ princess on me and don’t go goin’ cockamamie on me. Yeah?”
My shoulders straightened in umbrage and I declared, “I’m never cockamamie.”
“Woman, you transported yourself to a whole ‘nother world not knowin’ where your arse would land or what it would land in. Most women got at least some cockamamie in ‘em but you are head-to-toe cockamamie,” he returned.
That was arguable but I didn’t have time to argue it now.
“Kell, time is wasting,” I reminded him and the scowl shot back to severe.
Then he burst out, “Balls, I see it in yer eyes. You’re gonna go cockamamie on me.”
“Kell!” I snapped loudly.
“All right, all right, smooth your knickers, princess,” he said, hands up but pressing down. “You got an hour then your arse is on deck.”
“Right,” I replied.
He sucked in breath and seared me with another scowl. Then he shook his head and exited the cabin, slamming the door behind him simply, I guessed, because he was a curmudgeon and didn’t want me to forget it.
I stared at the door and, with that confrontation over, the coming one loomed in front of me.
I had two choices, freak out or get my shit sorted.
I rushed to my trunks to get my shit sorted.
* * * * *
First off, it was clear we’d travelled far enough south that Middleland, unlike Lunwyn, was not charmingly crusted with ice and snow. I’d noticed that from viewing shore from the ship and I’d definitely noticed the air was warmer, not well above freezing but not below it.
As Kell, myself, Gunner, Stephan and three of Frey’s crew acting as impromptu royal guards made our way to my uncle’s camp on horses provided for us, I also noticed that Middleland wasn’t that charming at all. It wasn’t exactly barren but it also wasn’t colorful or overly fertile. It seemed bleak, craggy and dark and although the days were longer, that wasn’t exactly a boon because Middleland would probably look better in the moonlight.
Seeing it, I thought that perhaps Sjofn’s grandfather had a favorite son after all for Atticus definitely got the better deal when his father was doling out kingdoms.
Once we’d navigated the dark rocks that made up the shore and spread inland, it didn’t take long for the tents to come into view. The sun was beginning to set but I could see they were striped wide in red and black. They were large, there were several of them, they each had a number of peaks and all of these peaks had red and black checked pennants flying.
We were escorted by the king’s men of which there were twelve (my opinion only, but I thought this was overkill). They all were wearing amour breastplates with black and red dragons painted on them, high black boots that came up to their thighs, poofy black shorts and they also had red and black striped poofs of material around their shoulders but their biceps and forearms were covered solely in black. On their heads they had gleaming helmets with a Mohawk arrangement of stiff black and red feathers. All their weapons (swords on scabbards attached to their saddles and a knife at their belts) shone as if they’d never been used.
I read from their number and attire that Baldur liked pomp and circumstance. Frey’s men wore what they wore; there was no uniform of The Drakkar or even of his merchant ships. My father’s men wore a uniform but it was warm, sturdy, comfortable and utilitarian. All the heads of the Houses I’d met at the Gales had worn their colors proudly but they let their wives display the finery that indicated their wealth. The men’s clothes were excellent quality and there were touches that indicated affluence but none of them were overt about it.
This pageantry to meet your niece in a tent on a desolate plain seemed a bit much and said a great deal about my uncle.
His men led us straight to the biggest tent and when I say that I mean it was the biggest tent by far, at least double the size of any other, maybe more, and as large as a small house. The entryway had a ten foot long awning stretching out from it along which four guards stood. It was clear these guards were more important for their feathers in their helmets were bigger and each had a ruby in the hilt of the daggers on their belts.
Immediately upon arrival, there was a wee situation when we stopped and Gunner (most of the men I knew well were with Frey, however he’d left Gunner and Stephan behind, likely in case something like this occurred) dismounted instantly and came to help me off my horse. Unfortunately, one of Baldur’s men did the same and Gunner didn’t take kindly to this.