Erik’s eyes widened. “Highness,” he said.
Nicholas, Prince of Krondor, said, “Here I’m just ‘Admiral.’ ”
“How did you convince the King to let you come?” asked Calis.
“As soon as the Ranger returned with the intelligence you’d sent back, I just told Borric I was going. Erland’s in Krondor with Patrick, acting as his son’s Regent, so we’re both where we want to be. I’ll catch you up on court politics later. Right now let’s get you below and into some dry clothing.”
Calis nodded. “We need to get far from here. And there’s much to speak of.”
Nicholas called out, “Mr. Williams!”
“Aye, sir?”
“Turn us around and set as much sail as she’ll carry. We’re making for home!”
“Aye, aye, sir!” came the reply.
Erik was certain he heard relief in the first mate’s voice. Sailors led Erik and the others below, and somewhere between then and the next morning, Erik passed out, and was undressed and put into a warm bunk by someone.
Miranda said, “You took a chance.”
Pug smiled. “Not much of one, given the circumstances. All I did was irritate them, really. The city was already theirs.”
“What next?”
“More waiting,” said Pug, and for an instant she saw his chafing at the need to do so. “When the Queen is ready to make her next move, and she shows us how she is going to dispose of those things in her possession, then we’ll know what we must do next.”
Miranda stretched. “I’m thinking we need to travel.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere warm and pleasant, with empty beaches. We’ve been locked up over these books for months now, and we’re no closer to finding the key to the puzzle.”
“There you are wrong, my dear,” said Pug. “I’ve known what the key is for some time. The key is Macros the Black. The problem is where is the bloody lock?”
Miranda stood up and knelt next to him. Putting her arm around his shoulder in a familiar gesture, she said, “Why don’t we worry about that some other time. I need a rest. You do as well.”
Pug laughed. “I know just the place. Warm beaches, few distractions—if the cannibals don’t notice you—and we can relax.”
“Good,” she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek. “I’ll go get my things.”
As she left the room, Pug sat back and pondered this strange woman. The light brush of her lips on his cheek was a small gesture, but the touch lingered and he knew it was an open invitation, if a demure one. He had not found time to become involved with any woman since his wife had died, nearly thirty years before. He had known lovers, but they had been companions or distractions. Miranda was possibly something else.
Suddenly he smiled and stood up as he considered that a lonely beach without distractions was the perfect place to begin unraveling her mysteries. The northern great archipelago would be lovely this time of the year, and there were far more deserted islands than populated ones.
As he returned to his own quarters, Pug felt a spring in his step he hadn’t experienced since he was a boy, and suddenly he felt the troubles of the world were far away, at least for a little while.
Erik looked at the whitecaps as the ship sped through the ocean. Roo had caught him up on the gossip: Prince Nicholas had come down from Krondor with the returning Freeport Ranger and had taken personal command of the situation. He had read the reports Calis had sent downriver from his first meeting with Hatonis, and had kept himself abreast of the enemy’s movement. He had kept Trenchard’s Revenge anchored at the City of the Serpent River and had come down the coast against the possibility of Calis and his men having to flee that way.
They had been anchored in the harbor at Maharta for a month when agents in the city got word to him of the coming blockading of the harbor. He had raised anchor and sailed out past a skiff full of city guards and an angry harbormaster, then sailed away from a pursuing cutter. He had stayed out to sea for a week, then returned to find the harbor mouth scaled.
Nicholas had then sailed up the coast for a day, keeping out of sight of the city against the possibility of enemy ships coming up the coast. When he had seen the smoke from the first battle, he had given the order to hug the coastline as closely as safely possible, to determine what was occurring on the land. He had been sailing toward the harbor for a better look when he’d spied the fishing smack carrying the last of Calis’s party.
De Loungville came up on deck, his arm and ribs bandaged, and came to stand next to Erik. “How goes it?”
Erik shrugged. “Well enough. Everyone’s resting. I’m still sore, but I’ll live.”
De Loungville said, “You did well back there.”