So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)(42)

That had to be Dryden, one of Rupert’s spies. The mayor didn’t know Dryden’s name, but he passed on messages for the spy. “Thank you.” Rupert shook the mayor’s hand.

“Of course. I’ll try to buy you some privacy.” The mayor raised his voice. “Come along, ladies. Drinks are on me!” He led them toward the village tavern.

The women waved as they passed him by. “We’ll be waiting for you at the Salty Pelican!”

Rupert and Stefan waited for more dinghies to tie off at the pier. As officers from each ship arrived, Stefan handed each of them a small bag of gold so they could purchase supplies.

“Ahoy there!” Ansel’s loud voice echoed across the water as his dinghy approached.

Rupert smiled and waved at the big bear of a man who had taught him and Stefan everything they knew about the sea. Poor Stefan had been only nineteen years old when he’d suddenly found himself responsible for a young, traumatized orphan with a price on his head. But Stefan had never given up on him, and Rupert had always admired him and loved him for that.

With only twelve years’ difference in their ages, Stefan had always felt like an older brother or young uncle. Ansel, though, was old enough to be Rupert’s father, and he’d willingly taken on that role. Without Ansel, Rupert would still be hiding in the mountainous regions of northern Tourin while Stefan worked odd jobs to support them both. Because of Ansel, Rupert was now an admiral in charge of ten ships, and together, the three of them were working on the Official Plan.

While Rupert waited for Ansel to climb the ladder, a large pelican swooped down and landed on the pier beside him. He glanced at it a second time. Was that the same bird that had been roosting aboard his ship?

“There you are!” Ansel greeted them with his booming voice and pulled Rupert into an embrace. “Ten ships, now, you rascal! You’re doing great!” He clapped Rupert on the back, then turned to embrace his cousin.

They looked very similar, Rupert thought, although Ansel’s dark, curly hair was now half gray. And Ansel was much broader across his girth.

“How is Wermer doing?” Stefan asked, since the defeated pirate captain had been assigned to Ansel’s ship.

Ansel grinned. “Not too pleased that he was demoted to a lieutenant. But I told him he could eventually work his way back up to captain.”

Stefan nodded. “If he proves his loyalty long enough.”

Ansel chuckled. “Yeah, for about ten years.”

“Come on.” Rupert motioned toward the village. “Dryden is waiting for us at the Salty Pelican.”

The three of them made their way through alleys to the back door of the tavern.

They slipped up the back stairs, carefully avoiding the horde of women in the front room. A blue kerchief was tied around the latch of the third door in the hallway. Ansel knocked softly on the door.

Dryden cracked the door and peered out. A middle-aged man, with a craggy, weathered face, he’d been one of Ansel’s most trusted seamen until he’d lost a leg in a shark attack. No longer able to climb the rigging, he’d opted for a land job instead. Now he spent most of his time hanging around taverns close to Ebton Palace, listening in on conversations. Whenever he heard anything useful, he rode to Danport to pass the information on to Rupert.

“There you are, you old codger!” Ansel barged into the room and gave his friend a bear hug. “How are you?”

“Can’t complain.” The spy shook hands with Stefan and Rupert, then walked toward the round table, his peg leg clunking on the wooden floor.

No fire burned in the hearth, since it was a warm spring day. On the table, a pitcher of ale and four goblets waited. Ansel filled the goblets while Stefan checked under the bed and behind a dressing screen.

Rupert drew back the curtains and blinked in surprise to find a pelican perched on the windowsill. “Shoo!” He blew a puff of air, and it hit the bird with enough force to knock it off the sill.

With a squawk, the bird fell into a rubbish bin.

“Oops.” Rupert closed the windowpane and pulled the curtains shut. “It seems like every time I turn around, there’s a pelican watching me.”

Ansel shrugged. “Those damned birds have always congregated around here. That’s how the tavern got its name.” He sat next to Dryden. “So, buddy, you have news?”

“Aye.” Dryden drew a folded sheet of paper from his jacket. “The Tourinian ambassador at Ebton Palace was passing these out to young noblemen. Since it involved Tourin, I thought you would want to know.” He unfolded the paper and set it on the table.

Rupert sat in front of it, and on either side of him, Ansel and Stefan scooted closer so they could read.





NOTICE OF COMPETITION


FOR THE HAND OF THE TOURINIAN PRINCESS

Attention all young men of noble birth:

His Most Royal Majesty, King Gunther of Tourin, decrees a competition to begin two weeks after the Spring Embrace of the moons. All those who enter will compete against one another in a series of contests designed to show combat skills and the ability to complete challenging quests.

The winner will be awarded with a betrothal to the Tourinian princess, Brigitta. If he successfully begets a son with her in one year, he will be allowed to marry her, and his son will become the heir to the throne of Tourin. If he fails, the second-place winner will take his place.