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“I want to know how they’re hiring ships,” another man complained. “I’ve got crates of wine from my vineyard, but my brother says the warehouse in Zoroya is full, and not to send any more on the barges. He says there aren’t enough merchant ships to go around.”
“Why is that?”
“Who knows. More goods have been shipping to Ryden, he says, and the journey takes longer. Maybe that’s all it is.”
“What ever happened to that Mortisian merchant? The one with the fast ships?”
“Rahim Nassar. He’s been absent a while, hasn’t he?”
The conversation devolved, and Serene turned her focus back to Cardon. He was looking at the men, frowning. Probably thinking along the same lines she was. More ships going to Ryden didn’t sound good. Was King Henri purchasing food, weapons, and other supplies for his war from Zennor? More olcain in Duvan wasn’t good, either—Desfan had enough problems. Fewer merchants, not enough ships . . . none of it felt right.
Serene straightened in her chair. “I’m going to get an ale and mingle. See what else I can learn. You do the same. You don’t have to drink it,” she quickly added. “Just hold it to make the others feel more comfortable.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’m not leaving you alone.”
“I won’t go far. But I may be able to talk to some of these women as long as you’re not hovering and looking so . . .”Distracting.“Intimidating,” she said instead.
He sighed. “You have your knife?”
“Of course.”
“Stay in sight of me. And don’t drink too much.”
Him and drinking; she still wanted that story.
Perhaps she was feeling a little bold after his flirtation, because she leaned forward to whisper, “Or maybe tonight we should find out what sort of drunk I am.”
His expression was frozen, but she saw something in his eyes flare.
She threw him a smile and made her way to the bar, where she ordered an ale from—as the fates would have it—the innkeeper. “Do you know the Fiddler?” she asked.
Realization struck him, just before excitement lit his face. He smiled. “I do. And you’re traveling to the capital?”
“I am.”
He grabbed a tankard and filled it from the keg behind the bar. His voice went low. “Lord Dakaar has been here every night for the past three days waiting for you.” He nodded across the room, and Serene studied the man who meticulously cut the chicken on his plate.
Lord Dakaar was tall—Serene could see that, even with him sitting at the table—and he was dressed in plain clothes, probably to blend in. His tight curls were cut close to his head, and he looked to be in his thirties—maybe a year or two older than Cardon. Dark skinned, dark haired, and dark eyed, he appeared regal and handsome. She easily believed he was a lord.
With Cardon watching, she couldn’t walk straight up to Dakaar. She needed a moment to speak with the women grouped on the edge of the gaming table, where Wilf was just tallying points from his latest roll of dice.
Serene focused on the innkeeper. “Would you discreetly go to Lord Dakaar in a few moments and point me out to him? Tell him to ask me to dance.”
Cardon would surely love that, but she could think of no other way to get a semi-private moment with Dakaar.
She drifted over to the women with her tankard, feeling Cardon’s eyes on her while she sipped. She spoke a little with the women, and not just for appearances. She was anxious to know their opinion of affairs in Zennor. But they were reticent, and she didn’t press.
Finally, she saw Dakaar approach.
She had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye, he was so tall. He smiled down at her, warmth in his gaze. His voice was a low, pleasant rumble, his Zennorian accent thick and proud. “My lady, might I beg a dance?”
She readily agreed, setting her tankard on a nearby table as she took his offered arm. She couldn’t help but shoot a glance toward Cardon.
He watched her with hooded eyes, his expression unreadable.
Dakaar led her to the cleared space in the room that served as the dance floor, then twisted to face her.
Other couples danced around them, the music loud enough that Serene didn’t fear anyone overhearing their quiet words. “Lord Dakaar, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
