Ambassador (Conqueror of Isles Book 1) Read online

  It was not even a full second before Kyra answered. “Then I’m coming with you,” she said in a tone that would brook no dissent. “When do we leave?”

  “We aren’t leaving—ever,” he warned her. “I am. Tomorrow morning.”

  “Bullshit we aren’t,” Kyra snapped. Eyes narrowing dangerously, she stalked forward and planted herself opposite him, uncomfortably close. “You don’t get to make those sorts of decisions for me, Elias Ansiri. Besides, you’re hardly in a position to refuse the Governor-General’s niece. You should be thanking me for dignifying this miserable endeavor with my illustrious personage!”

  Her speech had grown so theatrical by the end that he cracked a smile, rather than scowled. Amusement didn’t soften his tone though.

  “Forget it,” he growled. “I’m serious, Kyra. I’m going alone.”

  “Have you even seen an elf before?” she demanded. “A living one, I mean. Most of them don’t even speak our tongue. You’ll need someone from the Academy to translate. And none of the others are stupid enough to volunteer once I’ve spoken to them.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Even before the words left his lips, Elias knew exactly how wrong he was. Kyra most certainly would dare. What was more, he half-suspected that she’d already spoken to her colleagues days ago. So, rather than continue down a hopeless avenue, he tried a new one.

  “I can’t put you in danger,” he said. “I’ve caused your family enough trouble as it is.”

  He’d been loath to play that particular card and the pity that briefly filled Kyra’s eyes turned his stomach. Mercifully, it wasn’t long before she masked her reaction and her eyes hardened once more with steely blue resolve.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” she said. “Nor is this. I am coming with you, even if I have to bribe every last captain in the harbor.”

  Elias sighed. Everything within him demanded that he continue the argument, but he knew a lost cause when he saw one. Not that he could bring himself to admit as much.

  “Save your money,” he grumbled. “A girl as smart as you could take one look at the harbor and figure out who I’ll charter.”

  As it turned out, he was wrong about that too. Kyra didn’t so much as glance in the direction of the distant, unseen docks. Instead, her face lit up and her lips curled mischievously into a delighted smirk.

  “David is back?” she exclaimed.

  Chapter Two

  Elias spotted David Avans before he even set foot on the narrow, rickety pier stretching out some two hundred paces from shore. The path was crowded with sailors and longshoremen, each bearing heavy sacks of market-bound goods or carefully rolling barrels of the same. Their young, amply bearded captain leaned against the starboard bulwark, growling orders and gesturing violently as his men lowered the next pallet with hempen ropes.

  The pier was so crowded that Elias was forced several times to stand aside and lean precipitously over the water as the longshoremen passed. The men cursed under their breath and aimed resentful stares his way. That would have been unpleasant enough had he not also been conscious of the fact that his scowls barely outnumbered the rather more lecherous ones aimed Kyra’s way. Taken in unison, the effect made him feel even more out of place than he would have otherwise.

  Fortunately, it wasn’t long before Avans spotted them and his concerns grew more practical.

  “Oy, make way there!” the captain barked.

  Vaulting the bulwark, Avans grasped the edge and dangled for a moment before dropping to the pier below. He landed in a deep crouch, straightened, and casually stretched his legs—as though he had not just fallen twice the height of a man. Pausing just long enough to leave his orders with one of the men, he turned and trotted their direction.

  “Elias? What’re you doing here?” Avans asked. His bemused smile faded somewhat when he spotted Kyra. “Why’s this one with you?”

  Kyra made a face and Elias quickly stepped between them before she could retort.

  “I’m on a mission for Offert,” he explained. “How much for a cabin?”

  Avans’ brows rose but he shook his head without hesitation. “For you? Not a sovereign. But we just made port this morning. We’re not due to sail for another week at least.”

  “Then how much for a cabin and a departure tomorrow morning?”

  Avans’ brows rose further then sank as his eyes narrowed. He glanced around, eying the passing sailors for a second before folding his arms.

  “That depends,” he said. “What sort of destination did you have in mind?”

  “Southeast,” Elias said, giving the word the weight it deserved. “Far southeast.”

  It wasn’t a surprise when Avans shook his head. What was a surprise was that the man had the audacity to smile when he did it.

  “I can’t do that, Eli,” he said. “I don’t know what you and Offert are planning, but I’m not about to risk the Dark Dawn for it. Southeast is too risky right now. Last I heard, Halsten was offering to buy ore and steel at four times the usual price and even that wasn’t enough to tempt the most desperate of captains. You’re better off trying an overland route.”

  “Overland will take too long,” Elias insisted. Leaning to glance past Avans’ shoulder, he nodded at the towed cutter bobbing behind the much larger vessel. “What about that? You could sail us as close as you think is safe, then we could part ways.”

  Avans followed his gaze, sighed, and turned back around wearing an admonishing frown.

  “Cutters aren’t free, you know,” the captain grumbled. He fidgeted, crossing and uncrossing his arms several times before reaching a decision. “How much are they paying you?”

  “Two thousand,” Elias said. There was no point in lying, not that he would have anyway. “Half up front and half when I return.”

  “If you return,” Avans corrected. Tapping the heel of his boot on the pier, he fingered his beard and muttered a curse. “You’re a shitty negotiator. I’m sure they would have given you twice that.”

  “You’ll do it then?”

  “Aye. Must be going soft in the head but, aye, I’ll do it. I want five hundred up front. It’ll cost nearly that much to replenish the provisions and rehire enough of the crew to sail her on short notice.”

  Elias was about to thank him when Kyra spoke up. He’d almost forgotten about the woman, as much as he could with her leaning obnoxiously on his shoulder from behind.

  “Five hundred sovereigns for a few measly weeks of sailing?” she asked. “That’s robbery. You call yourself his friend?”

  “Kyra!”

  To Elias’ surprise, Avans did not lash out. Perhaps the man had finally grown accustomed to Kyra’s needling. Or, more likely, the man enjoyed her hostility far more than he would ever admit. Whatever the reason, Avans merely scowled.

  “My ship isn’t like the Academy, Miss Hammond,” he said icily. “I can’t rely on rich relatives or city taxes. Profit is the only thing keeping me, my crew, and their families from starving in the streets.”

  “Well, perhaps if you were cleverer—”

  “Enough,” Elias snapped. He glanced at Avans but saved his harshest glare for Kyra. “This is my mission, Kyra, and I’ll happily give David what he’s asked for. If you have a problem with that, you’re welcome to stay behind.”

  She feigned outrage but beneath her mask, a hint of color had crept into her cheeks. She hid it well, and quickly, with an exaggerated sigh.

  “Oh, very well,” she groaned. “But I’m sharing your cabin. Knowing this swindler, he’d try to make me sleep among the livestock.”

  “She’s coming with you?” Avans asked. At Elias’ nod, he heaved a sigh and stared to the heavens. “Taish preserve us. I wish you’d told me that before I agreed to take you.”

  In a welcome twist of fate, Kyra’s snarling and sputtering commanded all the attention as she stalked down the pier toward the shore. Elias, following several paces behind and grinning w
ryly, doubted any of the men they passed even noticed him.

  ***

  The day passed uneventfully into afternoon. Kyra departed to make her own preparations, leaving Elias to stroll Islesmark’s main thoroughfare in search of the supplies he required. As hard as he’d pushed for half of the promised sovereigns upfront, it wasn’t as though he needed the coin to make the necessary preparations. It was a matter of convenience only; he wanted to leave Linn enough to maintain the house in his absence.

  For all its tediousness, the shopping progressed without a hitch. The first tailor he visited had several sets of reasonably comfortable clothes and he bought them all. He planned to take one or two of his formal suits as well for any courtly encounters, but he could hardly wear such things for the entire voyage. The last thing he wanted was to arrive in the elven capital in finery damp and caked with sea salt.

  He did, however, buy a hefty pouch of that as well. Knowing David Avans, the food they had to look forward to on the journey would be utterly flavorless. Bringing a bit extra to share with the crew once the salted meats grew scarce would win him more goodwill than an entire cask of aged liquors.

  The rest of his acquisitions were rather more piecemeal. He bought whatever struck his fancy—a new pair of boots, a secondhand cape with only the slightest signs of wear, and a slender knife that could be adequately concealed inside his new boots, if necessary. And, in most cases, he felt that each of the traders and shopkeepers overcharged him by less than a sovereign apiece. All in all, it made for a far more positive experience than he’d anticipated.

  The sun was only a hand’s breadth above the rooftops by the time he returned home, stomach growling at the scent of roasting meats that wafted from the windows he passed. He was forced to wait outside through three separate knocks before Linn opened the door, offered a flustered greeting, and dashed back to the kitchen with her skirts hiked up above her knees. The sight made him chuckle despite his annoyance and appetite. And so, clumsily kicking off his thoroughly dusted boots, he carried his purchases upstairs alone.

  Spreading them out atop his freshly linened bed, he eyed them for a moment before setting off to search the upper story’s dressers and wardrobes for the rest of the necessities. It was an oddly soothing exercise, despite the dangerous nature of the task that prompted it, and he even caught himself humming softly. His cheer fled, however, when he located and opened the wardrobe containing his suits.

  It wasn’t the suits themselves that bothered him. All three of them were in fine condition. Rather, it was the sight of the faded, half-forgotten gowns hanging and folded opposite that silenced him. Without thinking, he reached out to touch the nearest one, only to yank his hand away before his fingers brushed its lace sleeve.

  Steeling himself, he turned from the unwelcome reminder and roughly pulled the suits from their hangings. His fingers trembled slightly as she shut the wardrobe and he must have done so quite forcefully since he’d only just draped the clothes over his arm and quit the room when Linn appeared.

  From the look on the woman’s face, Elias knew she must have guessed at his thoughts. He couldn’t say why that bothered him. Linn, more than anyone else, was perfectly situated to understand and comfort him. But rather than soothe him, her presence only served as a reminder of just how fragile his spirit was. He felt like a river on Midwinter’s Eve, its surface deceptively frozen and ready to shatter beneath the first ill-advised step.

  “I’m sorry, Master Ansiri,” she said. Her voice was gentle and earnest but not nearly as delicate as he’d feared. “I’d meant to gather your things for you but dinner—”

  “It’s fine,” he assured her. “Would you fetch my trunk? The smaller one will be fine.”

  “Of… of course.”

  He nodded appreciatively and waited until she’d passed from sight to exhale his long-held sigh. Returning to his chambers, he added his suits to the pile of clothing and cast an evaluative eye over the lot to confirm it would all fit. Satisfied that it would, he inspected the collection a second time in search of anything he might have forgotten. Nothing sprang to mind. And so, with an air of inevitability, he turned to the final piece of his accoutrement.

  The sword mounted on the wall opposite his bed had been his father’s, if the quartermasters scouring the battlefield were to be believed. Personally, Elias had his doubts. Thousands had fallen at the battle of Arnhelm and the blade delivered to him looked no different from any other he’d seen. It was difficult to imagine the men responsible for salvaging such weapons had taken the time to sort and document which weapon had belonged to whom. Even so, he had kept it.

  He’d only just taken the sword from its pegs and eased a few inches from the scabbard to check for rust when Linn arrived with the requested trunk. She took one look at him then at the sword he held.

  “You’re taking that as well?” she asked.

  Elias smiled faintly and slid the blade back into its scabbard.

  “I’m dealing with elves, Linn,” he reminded her. “Gods willing, I won’t need it, but…”

  She set the trunk down. Stepping over it, she made her way toward him and, after a brief moment of indecision, wrapped her arms around him in a somewhat improper, unmistakably tender embrace. There was nothing remotely romantic about the gesture, yet Elias couldn’t quell the slew of memories that flooded him at her touch.

  “I’ll pray for your safe return,” Linn whispered.

  Elias smiled despite himself. He wanted to tell her not to bother but couldn’t bring himself to voice the rude sentiment. After all, perhaps Luka was correct. A bit of superstition had never hurt a man.

  And the gods only knew he would need all the help he could get.

  Chapter Three

  Daybreak was still several hours off when Elias boarded the aptly named Dark Dawn the next morning. Two of Avans’ men had arrived to summon him and convey his luggage. And though the men had assured him there was no need to keep pace, he’d insisted on accompanying them—and the two hundred sovereigns stashed in his trunk. Although it took barely a quarter of an hour to reach the docks, he’d soon lost count of his yawns along the way.

  That much, at least, he could easily explain. He’d been kept up late, after all.

  True to Offert’s word, a disgruntled-looking Deputy Minister of the Treasury had arrived several hours after dinner to deliver a purse with an even thousand sovereigns. The man had protested mightily at being forced to remain while Elias counted the coins, but the satisfaction of the weighty purse had far outweighed the man’s smugness at being proved honest.

  Elias had moved a share to his trunk then handed the remainder to a startled Linn.

  “For safekeeping,” he’d explained, unable to suppress his grin. “And to help look after things here. I may be gone for several months. Can’t have you starving while I’m gone. In fact, you may as well treat yourself from time to time. Lanin knows I’ve been working you to the bone recently.”

  Her protests had fallen on deaf ears and he’d retired to bed still smirking. Linn might have begun as nothing but a maidservant, but she was easily the closest thing he had to family. So close, in fact, that he’d long since informed Luka that, if anything ever happened to him, she was to be named the sole inheritor of his estate. Ordinarily, he’d have bothered with the formal paperwork, but he trusted the Sheriff to see it done.

  Much to his surprise, the man was waiting for him when he reached the docks.

  “Elias,” Luka said, startling him. In his half-sleeping state, he’d glanced right past the shadowed figure. “I take it Offert’s man reached you in time?”

  “‘In time’ is generous,” Elias said, shrugging and offering the man his hand. “But, yes, he reached me.”

  “Good, good,” Luka said distractedly. He fidgeted and waited for the men bearing Elias’ luggage to pass before continuing. “I looked for you after I left the Governor-General’s palace. There’s something you should know.”

/>   The last vestiges of drowsiness vanished immediately.

  “Yes?” he asked.

  “The Governor-General is—I don’t believe Offert expects for you to return.”

  “Is that all?” Elias snorted and shook his head. “Luke, I could have told you that much a month ago.”

  “I’m serious, Eli. This goes well beyond personal history and grudges.” There was an urgency to the man’s tone that made Elias frown. “I know what he said to you. But when I spoke to Offert afterward, it was like dealing with a completely different man. He is absolutely preparing for war—as serious a war as the last one. Perhaps even larger. And I’m certain he doesn’t intend for you to succeed.”

  “I already knew that much,” Elias said. Merely speaking the word aloud was wearying. “It isn’t as though I truly expected the elves to welcome me as an ambassador.”

  “You’re not listening!” Luka hissed with sudden venom. He grasped Elias’ shoulders and squeezed hard. “I’m telling you to be careful! Don’t trust anyone! If your mission succeeds, you’ll have spoiled Offert’s plans. He’ll owe you a thousand sovereigns, plus whatever salary or pension you request from the Legion. Imagine for one second how many hired knives that money could buy!”

  Elias did think about it. And that single second was all it took for his blood to run cold.

  “It’s too late now. I’m committed.”

  “I know, so just be careful. Once you’re home in Islesmark, I think I can protect you. Offert at least won’t be able to touch you directly. But until you’re back home, you need to assume that anyone could be his. And I do mean anyone.”

  “I will,” Elias said. It was hard to speak past the tightness of his throat. “Thank you, Luka.”

  “Don’t thank me yet.” Giving his shoulder a final squeeze, the man adjusted the hood of his cloak and slipped away. “Stay safe.”

  Elias watched the man depart, so distracted by the sight and his own racing thoughts that he completely missed the sound of Kyra’s footsteps on the pier behind him. He jumped and whirled as she touched him on the back. And then, at her laugh, his face reddened as well.