Aefric’s bed here in Water’s End was even larger than his bed in Behal. That one could have slept three, giving each of them room to comfortably spread out. This bed, though, could just as easily have slept five. Which made Aefric wonder, once in a while, whether some of his ducal predecessors had preferred their sex as a group activity.

  He sat her on the edge of the bed. He reached to run his fingers through her long waves of copper hair, but Zoleen intercepted one of his hands and began kissing his palm.

  He leaned in and nuzzled her hair and neck as she did, breathing in her scent, like wild strawberries.

  His free hand found one of the ties of her gown and tried to loosen it, but it wouldn’t come.

  “You can’t start with that one,” Zoleen whispered, nuzzling his hand. “I’ll show you, if you like.”

  “I have a better idea,” he said, helping her stand and getting a puzzled look for his trouble.

  Aefric channeled a touch of magic through his mouth and blew a puff of air at her along with the right pair of words.

  Every tie and fastener of her gown and undergarments came loose.

  Zoleen, surprised, reached to catch the clothes that were now falling off her body, but stopped her hands.

  Instead she let her clothes fall and posed for Aefric with her hands on her cocked hips. She gave him a saucy look.

  “Your grace knows a spell that strips women of their clothes?”

  “Well, sort of,” Aefric admitted. “It’s really just a first-degree derivation of a spell that undoes ropes, chains and other bindings. Mostly useful for—”

  “Your grace knows a spell that strips women of their clothes.”

  Aefric shrugged helplessly. What Zoleen was saying was true, technically, but it wasn’t as though—

  “And does your grace often use magic to render women naked before him?”

  “No,” Aefric said quickly, getting a little flustered now. She was supposed to be impressed with the little bit of magic, not…

  Well, honestly, he couldn’t read her reaction through that saucy look she was giving him. And she was, after all, distractingly naked. Even if that had been the point.

  “How often—” Zoleen started, but Aefric spoke over her.

  “I’ve never done that before,” he said, shrugging and sighing. “It’s a beautiful gown, and intricate enough that I didn’t want to mess it up. Plus, I thought the bit of magic might amuse you.”

  “It did,” she said with a warm smile. “I’ll admit I was shocked. But I’ll also admit that there’s something pleasing about a man so eager to see me naked, and yet still concerned about my gown.”

  Aefric wasn’t sure what to say to that.

  “I know I don’t measure up to Byrhta Ol’Caran,” Zoleen said. “Nevertheless I hope your grace is pleased with the results of his spellwork.”

  Aefric made a show of looking her over slowly. From her beautiful face and the heat in her sapphire eyes, down her long neck, her supple curves, her lean, shapely legs.

  “Very,” Aefric said, voice low and throaty. “In fact,” Aefric said, stepping closer and taking her face in his hands, “I believe I’m ready to begin the exploration I spoke of.”

  He kissed her then, and though her mouth met him open and ready, he made that kiss slow, to give her a taste of what was to come. And through the kiss, his hands never left her face. Not even as hers slid around his waist.

  When he finally pulled back from that kiss, Zoleen muttered, “One thing.”

  Aefric raised his eyebrows.

  “When the time comes for getting you out of these clothes,” — she tugged on his silk tunic for emphasis — “I want to do it myself. No magic.”

  “I’ll look forward to it,” Aefric said, kissing her again and easing her back onto the bed.

  Aefric did his best to not only enjoy exploring every inch of Zoleen, but to make sure she enjoyed his efforts as much as he did. Preferably more so.

  In fact, that was how the night seemed to go for them. Each of them trying to outdo the other, when it came to bringing pleasure.

  But it was a lighthearted competition, one they could joke about as they rested in between. And one that kept them smiling, even when they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  7

  Aefric shared a surprisingly comfortable breakfast with Zoleen the next morning. The meal was crisp bacon served with sliced fruit and honeyed oat bread, along with water to drink. And the conversation was light and easy.

  She did tease him a bit about last night’s “disrobing enchantment,” as she called it, and asked about other “nefarious” uses he’d put magic to over the years. But that only opened the door to jokes he’d played with and on adventuring companions over the years.

  Such stories kept them both laughing, even when it came time to part and begin their days.

  Once Aefric was bathed, shaved, and dressed — today in a ruby red tunic over dark brown hose, though once more without a hat — he met with his advisers in his meeting room.

  Ser Beornric was in his full plate, as he so often was, but this morning Ser Yrsa had chosen full plate as well, because she was due to review troop emplacements near to Water’s End and Behal.

  Ser Calder favored a tunic of dark yellow-green, with similar hose. Though he visibly chafed at being unarmed, he as wise enough not to say anything.

  Both Kentigern and Elkari had chosen dark brown tunics today, with lighter brown hose.

  Elkari looked a little more ink-stained than usual, and struggled not to yawn, as though she’d worked a late night.

  Once all were seated, Ser Yrsa went first. “I found an interesting correlation between our good historian’s report and the scouting reports of the same time frame.”

  “The shipwreck?” Ser Beornric asked.

  “That corresponds as well, of course,” Ser Yrsa said, as though expecting the question, “but there’s a point of greater interest, during the final aett of last year’s summer.”

  “Oh,” Kentigern said, remembering, “the heat wave was bad last year. I cannot tell you how grateful I was when the rains came at last.”

  “Regardless of the heat,” Ser Yrsa said. “Our scouts spotted a large group riding along the ridge of the Dragonscar, on the Silverlake side. Two dozen riders. And it looked as though they were led by a noble.”

  “Looked as though?” Ser Calder asked. “They didn’t know?”

  “They weren’t flying any banners or flags,” Ser Yrsa said. “And yet their formation was, in the opinion of the scouts, typical for a noble riding in company.”

  “That phrase, ‘in company,’” Elkari said, “can mean many things.”

  “In this instance,” Ser Yrsa said, “it refers to a military style of company.” She turned back to Aefric. “Fearing that it was the prelude to an attack, our scouts kept pace and watched, but it just looked to be a review of the border.”

  “By Duke Wylyn?” Aefric asked.

  “Unknown,” Ser Yrsa admitted. “Might’ve been the duke. More likely it was a noble of the duke’s court, acting on Silverlake’s behalf.”

  “Unless the party originated in Johalan,” Ser Calder said. “That’s Briluufa’s county. Aggressive as she can be, she might have spotted our scouts and used their presence as an excuse to push her scouting outside her county, if not outside Silverlake.”

  “Possible,” Ser Yrsa admitted. “They were first spotted closer to the mouth of the Dragonscar, so that might be.”

  “What’s the correlation with Elkari’s report?” Aefric asked.

  “The last aett of summer,” Elkari said. “That was when our duke regent, Prince Killian, took his court to Norra for the Feast of Dereth Sehk.”

  “Exactly,” Ser Yrsa said. “And I believe he took you along, didn’t he, Calder?”

  “He did,” Ser Calder said with a brisk nod. “He insisted, in fact. Said I never take any time to have fun, and that he’d see to it I did.”

  “Sounds like Prince Killian all right,” Ser Beornric said.

  “And I take it,” Aefric said, “that Prince Killian made no secret of his plans?”

  “He rarely did,” Ser Calder said with a grimace. “Even when I asked him to.”

  “All right,” Aefric said. “So, if I’m in Silverlake and I want to check out the Dragonscar, that’s not a bad time to do it.” He frowned. “But they never went into the Dragonscar?”

  “Of course not, your grace,” Ser Yrsa said, and Aefric suspected that she’d added the honorific to avoid sounding as though she were censuring him. “A party that size in military formation, crossing your border without permission? They’d be taken as invaders. Likely attacked.”

  “Ah,” Aefric said, understanding. “But the big group would keep the attention of the scouts, allowing a smaller group to explore the Dragonscar unnoticed.”

  “Exactly,” Ser Yrsa said.

  “And before your installation as duke,” Ser Beornric said, “Duke Wylyn was petitioning to have his duchy extended south to the Threepeaks.”

  “Which he might have done anyway,” Elkari said. “The dukes of Silverlake have long lamented the size of Deepwater, and lobbied to have the king grant them more land.”

  “From what I heard around Armityr at the time,” Ser Beornric said, “Silverlake was pushing harder than usual.”

  “And the timing,” Ser Yrsa said. “We know that the spells in the Dragonscar were cast between last summer and last winter. Which suggests that, in that time, someone explored the Dragonscar, found the gold, and took measures to protect it.”

  “Last winter was rough,” Elkari said. “Some of the worst storms of the last twenty-five years, even before the snows hit.”

  “Which suggests,” Ser Calder said, “that the spells were cast in summer or autumn.” He nodded. “It fits.”

  “Looks likely,” Aefric said. “Or at least likely enough that I need to pay Duke Wylyn a visit. How many days do I have before their majesties arrive?”

  “Your grace can hardly go accuse Duke Wylyn of something that would amount to an act of war,” Ser Calder said sharply.

  Aefric tried to give Ser Calder a patient look, but he was running out of patience when it came to that man. Certainly the rest of the table had fallen silent.

  “Ser Calder,” Aefric said, and the knight pressed his lips into a line, likely expecting rebuke. “I know you and I do not know each other well. And I know that I’ve something of a reputation for impulsiveness.”

  “A reputation that Count Ferrin of Motte would call confirmed,” Ser Beornric said softly.

  Aefric ignored him and continued speaking to Ser Calder.

  “But even I would not go running into the heart of Silverlake to accuse their duke of something unproven.”

  “Forgive me, your grace,” Ser Calder said just above a mumble. “It is only that, three times since you were installed as duke, you have flown off to deal with something yourself through swift and decisive violence.”

  Aefric could think of only two…

  “Motte,” Ser Yrsa said quietly, “Frozen Ridge, and the Gull’s Bride.”

  Oh. Yes. The ship full of slavers.

  “Fair enough,” Aefric admitted. “But the only one of those that was a political situation was Motte, and I was making a point.”

  Ser Calder nodded.

  “I don’t plan on flying into Silverlake. I plan on sending a rika to let them know I’m coming, then sailing into one of his ports and riding to his castle with a small, but reasonable entourage.”

  “And what excuse will you give for the visit?” Kentigern asked.

  “Slavers,” Ser Beornric said, as though the answer should have been obvious to all.

  “Just so,” Aefric said. “And while I’m there, I’ll see what I can find out.” He turned to his seneschal. “How long do I have before their majesties arrive?”

  “They are coming with full entourage,” Kentigern said, “which means they’ll make all the stops… Certainly at least an aett. Perhaps as many as twelve days.”

  “It’s two days to Castle Stormsent from here,” Aefric said. “Two more back. That should give me plenty of time.”

  “Doesn’t track,” Ser Calder said. “I’m sorry, your grace, but why would you go yourself to discuss slavers with the duke? Why not send an emissary?”

  “Two reasons,” Aefric said. “The first is that I’ve made no secret that the matter is important to me. The second is that Duke Wylyn and I are both former adventurers. He and I can likely understand each other in ways that most nobles wouldn’t.”

  “Not to mention that it’ll have more impact if our duke goes himself,” Ser Beornric said.

  “Will you announce a similar plan to visit Merrek?” Kentigern asked. “To lend more credence to the façade?”

  “Don’t need to,” Aefric said, smiling. “Duchess Ashling’s own sister is already here in my court. Certainly it’s reasonable that I could expect Zoleen to speak for Duchess Ashling on matters like this.”

  “Speaking of whom,” Ser Yrsa said, then drew a deep breath. “I trust your grace was … circumspect with her last night? Anything you said to her will likely reach her sister’s ears.”

  “We hardly talked about the duchy at all,” Aefric said, “and certainly not about business. And when we did speak of Deepwater, it was only about little things. Water’s End. The waters and depth of the lake. The shops and artisans and the like. If you must know, we spoke mostly about ourselves. Personal histories.”

  “It could be,” Elkari said slowly to Ser Yrsa, “that Mistress Zoleen has simply been charmed by our duke. Not to mention that she is of an old and powerful family, and his grace is unmarried.”

  “When the Fyrenn name is involved,” Ser Yrsa said, “caution is the watchword.”

  “Noted,” Aefric said. “And I will keep it in mind. Now. If I plan on catching the evening tides out of Ajenmoor on my way to Silverlake, Kentigern and I have a lot of work to do. Is there anything else pressing?”

  A knock sounded on the meeting room door, and Aefric began to suspect that his day would, once again, grow quite long.

  Aefric girded himself for bad news, and answered the knock by calling out, “Come.”

  The door to his meeting room opened, and Ser Arras poked her head in.

  “I wouldn’t disturb your morning meeting, your grace, save that your ducal wizard has arrived.”

  “By all means, send him in,” Aefric said, while his other advisers discussed something among themselves in low voices.

  Karbin looked better rested today, which was good. That meant he hadn’t arrived five breaths ahead of disaster.

  He dressed in the robes of sand and dusk he so favored, and Aefric wondered for a moment what Dajen would say about the court wizard’s habit of wearing the same style of clothing every day.

  But then, Karbin wasn’t the duke.

  Four wands at his belt today, plus that obsidian rod of his. In his hands he carried a blackwood scroll case.

  Once he was seated at the table, he said, “I do apologize for being late, but I flew in directly from Ajenmoor.”

  “You’re capable of teleportation,” Ser Calder said. “Why not do that?”

  “You’re capable of running,” Karbin said. “Why walk? You’re capable of shouting? Why speak in a regular voice? You’re capable of staying awake through the night. Why sleep?”

  “Have it as you would,” Ser Calder said.

  Karbin nodded, then turned back to Aefric.

  “First, I must say that Galdiff Reteka is a man I trust not at all.”

  “Oh,” Ser Yrsa said, “I think you’ll find you can trust him to act in his own best interests.”

  “As can be said of many untrustworthy people,” Karbin said. “He was quite helpful, I will admit. He eased and sped my access to the prisoners, and ensured I had a private room to conduct my interviews.”

  “With him listening in, no doubt,” Ser Beornric said.

  “Hardly,” Karbin said with a knowing smile. “I ensured personally that my interviews were unheard by any.”

  Ser Beornric nodded approval.

  “From what I could put together,” Karbin said. “The smugglers truly don’t work for Nelazzi, for the most part. This mission was not one they asked for, and a few of them were relieved to see it end badly. It means they aren’t likely to be pressed into another such mission on her behalf.”

  “Assuming they find work at sea again,” Elkari said.

  “Oh,” Ser Yrsa said, “there’s always someone ready to hire sailors. Especially those with certain categories of experience.”

  “Now,” Karbin said, “obviously, none of them wanted to risk angering the pirate queen. So they tried to avoid telling me anything that could link them to her.”

  “Naturally,” Aefric said.

  “They were not entirely successful in this, of course. What’s more, some of them don’t like slavers, and were willing to talk a little more openly. And between what some said, what others didn’t say, and what I’d already learned from my prior investigations, I was able to put together a pretty good look at their recent routes, which led to some interesting conclusions.”

  Karbin opened his scroll case and unrolled a map of the Risen Sea.

  He traced the typical route of the smugglers.

  “That doesn’t come near Deepwater,” Aefric said. “At least, no closer than Redport.”

  “Where they conducted no illegal activities,” Karbin said. “Exactly. Lends credence to the idea that this was new for them.”

  “So?” Ser Calder asked. “I thought we were more worried about the slavers.”

  “We are,” Aefric confirmed. “Even Nelazzi herself is less important.”

  That got him a glance from Karbin, but no comment as his old mentor continued.

  “It matters because those smugglers rarely crossed paths with those slavers before. Only six total ports, three of which — here, here and here — aren’t anywhere near us, nor any of the places their routes took them in the last two seasons.”

  “Which matters because…” Ser Calder said.

  “Because I could eliminate those ports from the list I already had,” Karbin said.