The Shadow Soul (A Dance of Dragons #1)

Chapter Eight

But that wasn't quite true, no matter how much he hoped it was.

Rhen thought of the snoring comment. A lighthearted story, a good laugh—but also so much more, a little tale that could wreck a reputation.

Jin's innocence was his appeal and his danger—he could break Rhen's hard work without even realizing it.

He could destroy it all.

"See anything, Prince Whylrhen?"

Rhen dropped the telescope—he had stopped scanning the waters a few minutes ago.

"No flags."

A child-like glow burned in the captain's eyes.

"Attack?" He asked.

"Your call, old friend," Rhen replied, nodding his head. Rhen might be leading this expedition, but he trusted the captain. What very few knew, no one outside of this ship, was that the two of them had made an arrangement. When Rhen officially earned his knighthood, he commissioned Pygott as the first member of his spy network—his own personal captain.

That was the reason Pygott had left the crown. Not for the queen, a ridiculous rumor. But because Rhen had always been like a son to him, the son he and his wife could never have, and he could not say no.

But at times like this, looking at the fast approaching ship, Rhen understood what the captain had given up.

He loved a good fight.

And he was about to get one.

"Archers!" The captain yelled. Immediately, the crew stopped in place. Even the air seemed to still.

Then chaos—organized, as these men all knew their places.

Six of the crew ran to the bow of the ship, opening a chest that held their weapons, searching for nicks in the wood and stretching out horsehairs that had been hardened by the salt air.

Six more men ran down below deck, readying the anchored crossbows—three two-man machines that fired a spiked anchor into the hull of another ship, latching it to the Old Maid to enable boarding.

And Rhen, along with the remaining crew, readied for hand-to-hand combat, field battle on the water.

He pulled his sword from the scabbard strapped to his hip, swinging it in a wide arc over his head, stretching his shoulders and loosening up. His body felt light without the heavy armor of a knight, armor that was too arduous for travel. He would just have to be good enough to not get hurt.

"Prince." One of the sailors approached, holding a shield. It was wooden, the length of half of his body and unpainted. Deep holes already punctured the surface, blows from arrows in previous fights, but it would do well enough.

"Thank you, Geoff," Rhen said, pulling his arm through the strap on the back, his bicep straining under the weight. The man's eyes lit up, surprised and thankful for the recognition. Rhen nodded once more, releasing him, and Geoff circled back to the captain brandishing more weapons.

It was odd, Rhen realized as he stood there, so odd to be waiting on foot without Ember's strong body to hold him aloft. But it was better this way, better she was safe with Cal in the castle stables than at risk on the water. Even if he would pay for it when they reunited in Rayfort, Rhen smiled, picturing the moment. Leaving Ember was never easy, even when it was for her own good, but trying to get back in her good graces would be pure torture.

He looked back to the horizon where the ship was quickly becoming more visible. The center mast held no flag, no identifying marker as were the rules of sea travel. Each ship must have the flag of its kingdom and the flag of its city or occupation. Looking up, Rhen took note of the flags on this ship—the brilliant red flag of Whylkin decorated with a deep black rearing stallion, the great horse of Whyl the Conqueror that was said to be twice as large as any that had been born since. Below it, the flag of a merchant, a blue canvas split diagonally down the center with a white stripe and the image of a ship's wheel.