That night there was a soft, warm rain that enveloped the ship. It made for miserable sailors working the lobster trick, but it had the advantage of muffling sounds. With the swaying of the ship on cat’s paws, the passengers were lulled into deeper sleeps than normal.

Raulin was lying on his stomach, his arm around Anla. While he hadn’t been able to speak to Atelo, a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He slept the most soundly of any soul on the ship, despite the lingering pain after Al’s healing of his lacerations.

So, it was a surprise to him when a dream of his (of him splitting the sun in half and cradling both new spheres in his arms) was interrupted by a flash of white before his body slammed into Anla’s. For a moment he thought the ship was in rough waters, but he heard Anla gasp and knew what was happening.

He turned, crouched, then flung himself at a stunned Atelo. He felt the white-hot slice of the trivren’s knife graze his arm as he toppled him to the ground. He jammed his knee under Atelo’s chin and wrestled the knife from his hand while the Merakian choked. Once he was neutralized, Raulin lifted the pressure.

“I’ve been meaning to talk with you,” he said in Merakian. “Will you abide a truce to your cabin or must we do it like this?”

“Truce.”

Raulin stood and helped the trivren up. “I’ll be back shortly, ainle,” he said.

“Be safe,” she said, her knees tucked under her chin.

Raulin led Atelo across the main deck, his knife pointed at his back, but not into his side. He was respectful, but not stupid.

When they were in the small cabin, Raulin said, “You have a bad leg. You should sit.” Atelo complied. “Now, I think I’d have to be completely addled to not realize why you just tried to kill me. I apologize that it’s come to this. I like you and think you’re a good trivren, someday even a great one. But, since I’m no longer a trirec, you are no longer my master and I am no longer beholden to the rules of Arvarikor.”

“This is not true. You either retire as a trivren or die. You cannot renounce your training and expect we won’t retaliate.”

“I can pledge to you that I will never speak of anything regarding Arvarikor. Not the training, the inner workings, the contracts I’ve completed.”

Atelo snorted. “You think we would trust you to keep your word when you’ve already broken it with us?”

“We had an agreement today. You punished me already for taking off my mask.”

“I was forced to. I do not agree that it was legal.”

“That’s the unfortunate thing about loopholes; if you’re the one without the airtight language, you feel cheated. I warned Arvarikor several times that people could take advantage of our contracts. I actually had that happen this time around where someone had me retrieve a dozen items, listing it as one collection. I understand your frustration and anger, but what happened was under the rules Arvarikor set out at my trial. For taking off my mask, I was sentenced to one lash per trirec in the lands. And it was repeated yesterday, only to my benefit.”

“But after you were punished, you retook your oath. You have not done so.”

“And I don’t intend to.”

“Which puts this affair in limbo.”

Raulin clicked his tongue. “You’re right. You should be killing me for running away. I should have said I planned on retaking it in Kitstuar, then losing you at the first opportunity. You’re not that stupid, though. You wouldn’t have bought it.

“I’m going to have give you a better reason to keep me alive. I can give you Arvonne.”

The Merakian scoffed. “Why would Arvarikor want Arvonne? It’s a wasteland. We have no offices there because no one can pay our fees.”

“I know. I mean I can give you an organized, stable Arvonne where people may be interested in paying trirecs to steal and kill and spy once more. Not immediately, but let’s say in five years.”

“And how do you propose that?”

“By taking back the throne. As heir, I have the right to it, I just haven’t exercised it before now because I’ve been with Arvarikor.”

“What do you mean, ‘as heir’?”

It felt strange to Raulin. Since he had kept his secret for so long, he thought he’d have a harder time saying it, but it came easy to him now. “Like all Merakian children who become trirecs, I was an orphan. My parents, however, were the king and queen of Arvonne. My older brother was set to be king and I was going to be the archprince before the Coup happened. I was saved by my butler and a trirec and brought to Arvarikor.”

Atelo snorted. “And you have proof of this?”

“Nothing that would satisfy you, I’m sure. I could tell you hundreds of pieces of information that only Prince Caudin Alscaine would know, but that wouldn’t mean anything to you.”

“What was the name of his trirec, then?”

“Ikiyel.”

“What?” he asked, his entire demeanor changing, softening. “Say the name again.”

“Ikiyel. I don’t think I could tell you much about him. He kept his mask on the entire time and I didn’t notice anything unusual about him.”

“What happened?”

“He was stabbed as we tried to escape. He survived for several weeks until he contracted gangrene and refused to have his leg amputated. He died shortly thereafter, in Walpi. I could tell you the town where he was buried.”

“Yes, please.”

“Akausa Minest. Did you know him?”

“I thought he left me.”

“’Left you’? Were you…oh.”

“Tell me this: when he was indecisive, what would he do?”

“I remember him pacing. He…he rubbed his fingertips together.”

Raulin was disadvantaged by poor light, but he could still see the motion of Atelo’s shoulders slumping. “I think it unlikely that a miartha child would know a trirec that well otherwise. Perhaps what you say is true. Still, Arvarikor will not let you leave.”

“Let’s cut to the bottom line, then. If I were some no-name trirec in Merak chasing contracts for a pittance, you wouldn’t care if I disappeared. This is because I make a lot of money for Arvarikor. I’m a lucrative asset. Do you know how much I made this last docket?”

“Somewhere between four and five thousand Ghenian gold, I believe.”

“Something like that. If I were to open Arvonne up again, there would be five times the contracts available for trirecs.”

“The problem has never been the amount of contracts but talented trirecs to do the hard ones.”

“It’s not like you can’t replicate me. Yes, I was a better prospect because I could speak five languages and ride horseback and hold my own with a sword before I ever started training, but this can be taught to any child. There are three miartha that are being raised right now in Arvarikor. The order has already opened themselves to the idea. In five years time, there will be three just like me, ready to soak up contracts.”

Atelo thought about this for a few moments. “I still do not believe Arvarikor will let you leave.”

“I’m not trying to convince Arvarikor.”

The trivren looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“I’m trying to convince you. You are the one who will make the decision. You’re the only one that knows the truth. It’s in your hands what you tell Arvarikor. Did I leave the order legally? Or did I die on an island in the Gamik Sea? Perhaps the captain made me walk the plank and my body is at the bottom of the ocean. Maybe a jealous husband got the better of me back in Hanala.”

“What do you suggest?” His tone was difficult to read precisely, but Raulin hoped he was genuinely curious and not indignant.

“I don’t know what being a trivren is like. I’m guessing you don’t, either, at least not yet. I’d suggest waiting until you understand that world better, then telling the others what you think is best. I know that allowing me to live will be a gamble, but it is for me, too. I’m taking back my country even if I die trying.”

* * *

Al saw Raulin stifle a yawn as he leaned against the starboard railing, gazing out at the sea. He joined him. “How are your wounds?” he asked.

“Not bad at all, Wizard. Thank you.”

“Did they keep you up?”

“No. What kept me up was-”

“I don’t need to know,” Al rushed.

“I was going to say, what kept me up was an assassination attempt.”

“I am so sorry,” Al said, bowing his head. “I should have realized the trivren was going to try that and watched out for him.”

“And do what? He’s a trained killer. He would have gutted you like a fish or a cow. Ask Anla’s brother-in-law about which is the better analogy. No, this worked out well. I was able to hopefully talk some sense into him, and maybe he’ll realize I’m telling him the truth about my intentions regarding Arvonne.”

“Do you mean to say you’re going to allow trirecs in your country?”

“I don’t mean to, I am. Yes, I know it seems like a terrible thing to allow, but this will be one of many things I will have to bear as king. People in my country will starve, evil men will rule, there will be suffering. These are certainties. Only utopias exist without those, and as much as I’d like to make Arvonne a utopia, I don’t think it’s feasible. So long as they keep to their rules, I will allow them inside.”

“I understand.” Raulin turned to face him. “I do. You’re right. We’ll strive for this,” Al said, placing his flat hand high, “reach this,” he said, lowering it, “and stay above here.” He dropped his hand again, then put it to his side.

“I’m not going to be a perfect king, Wizard, I can tell you that. I have many years of training missing. I don’t know what the political climate is like and I don’t know the finer nuances of trading and negotiation. All I can say is I’ll do my best.”

“Raulin…”

“Caudin,” he corrected.

Al smiled. “Caudin, I wouldn’t look at your years abroad as wasted time. You can learn all that you mentioned, but having a firm understanding of the common people is something that makes a leader great. You’ve lived among them, you understand them. You’ll have a greater success of being a balance between the nobles and the working classes. You have the makings of a fine regency.”

“I’m glad you think so, Wizard. It’ll be hard work for you, too, as my vizier.”

“Ah, so now you’re willing to accept my offer?”

“Yes, but I still can’t pay you.”

Al laughed. “It’s a gamble. Either I’ll live in a palace or I’ll wind up in a ditch somewhere.”

Caudin laughed with him. “That’s precisely my take on my future.”

They stared out at the sea for a few moments. “What do you see when you look out there?”

“Water, Wizard. I see water.”

“I mean, what does it feel like to you, as you stare at the horizon?”

Caudin sunk down a little, stretching his arms. “Hopeful. A little scary. I had to stare at the horizon from a much lower position a year ago thinking I was going to die, and it quickens my pulse for a moment or two. But, it’s alluring, too. So many possibilities, so many avenues. I can’t stay afraid of it for long.”

“I had a professor in Amandorlam say that whatever a man feels when he looks upon the vastness of the sea is how he feels about his future.”

“Apt, especially since I wanted to ask you something. It’ll be your first official piece of advice as my vizier. Where do you think we should go? There’s Arvonne, of course, but that comes with risks of discovery. I could go to Kinto, to see if Mayasena would be interested in helping. That tie seems tenuous, though. We were friends in childhood, but I haven’t seen her since I was nine or so. Or, the one I’m leaning to, is to go to Sayen. I could petition my grandfather for help in retaking the throne. As a fellow monarch, there’s a stronger chance that he could support my claim and…what?”

Al had inhaled sharply at the word “Sayen” and hung his head. “I was listening.”

“I gather you didn’t like that choice.”

“I…mmm…okay. You wanted my advice and my suggestion would be to go to Arvonne.”

“And why do you suggest that?”

“Process of elimination. I have a theory, but you’ll think it silly.”

“If you’re willing to give it gravity, then I’ll listen.”

“The alley novels, I believe, were written to be instructional, like a beacon. They became popular as a symbol of hope and longing for the Arvonnese, but I think they would have been printed anyway. Whoever is writing them always has the same elements in them. I think it’s because the author wanted you to read them and to know you’ll be supported if and when you return. In every one there is always some sort of underground organization waiting for one of the Alscaine children to come forward and discover. I think that’s real.”

“You don’t think those elements wind up in those books because books with those elements sold well? They’re romance novels. I don’t plan on popping out of an alley to find some woman I’ll fall in love with; I already found my wife, in a castle, not on the street. I don’t have amnesia, nor was I a slave. Okay, the last part may be arguable, but my point stands. I think those novels are just a sensation people enjoy and those pieces work well.

“I’m not dismissing Arvonne, however. I want to know what you mean by ‘process of elimination’.”

“Kinto might be fine, but I agree that your relationship isn’t as robust as it could be. Sayen is…not the path I’d recommend.”

“Why?”

Al took a deep breath. “So, I spoke with Tel about this and he suggested I approach this in a certain way. If you could humor me, I have a thought experiment I’d like to walk you through. I’d like to see if you reach the same conclusion that I have.”

Caudin sighed. “Fine, Wizard. I have two or three weeks before we reach Kitstuar.”

“It won’t take long.” Al cleared his throat. “Imagine you are a young king, in your early twenties, ambitious and hungry to make something better of your landlocked country. You know that lack of a port and seaworthy vessels are keeping your country back. Other nations thrive through sea trade whereas your country has to watch from afar, opportunities missed. It’s also a mountainous country and, as such, you can only produce certain goods and must rely on taxed and imported items. Your country wades instead of swims; it’s not a terrible place to live, but you want glory for your name. What do you do?”

“Is this country beholden to the Noh Amairian Accords?” When Al nodded, he said, “So, no expansion or military campaigns. I would have to rely on friendly methods. I would discuss treaties with the surrounding countries.”

“You’ve tried that, but no one is interested in giving up any land or letting you rent it.”

“Perhaps something more sinister, then. I’d try to dig up dirt and blackmail one of those kings.”

“Despite the best efforts of your extensive spy network, no one can find anything concrete or strong enough to hold against any one of the kings of your neighboring countries.”

Caudin clicked his tongue. “Ah! So, I’d create ties. Like the Empire, I’d marry relatives out in hopes that they can soften someone’s position.”

“Excellent. You have a young daughter five years younger than the prince of your southern neighbor, which is the country you were aiming to get. You marry her to the prince.”

“And I get what I want?”

“Alas, no. Even though you trained your daughter from a young age to manipulate the king to your demands, she fell in love with him and refuses to do anything to damage her new country.”

“I may be stumped.”

“Think in devious ways. Think as if your goal has driven you to obsession, so much so that you are willing to destroy everything you love in order to attain it.”

While Caudin had kept an interested attitude before then, his mirth dropped as he began to figure it out. “I would sow dissonance, creating a magnified hatred in that country. I’d stir the pot. I’d find people to lead a group of revolutionists, someone I could control, and I’d fund them. Then, I’d point them at the capital and tell them to butcher the royal family in exchange for river rights to the sea.”

“You see what I see.”

Caudin turned, his face stricken. “Don’t tell me this, Wizard. He’s my grandfather. He visited once a year. He sent presents on my birthday. He’s all I have left.”

“I wish I hadn’t thought of this, but then again, I wouldn’t have wanted you to stumble into that viper’s nest.”

“How sure do you feel that your theory is true?”

“I couldn’t give you a number. It explains a lot, though. Why did a vocal minority suddenly turn on a well-liked ruling family? How did they get so organized? Where did their funds come from?”

“Why hasn’t Sayen just taken Arvonne, then? It’s ripe for the picking.”

“I asked myself the same thing. And I think that maybe he had that intention originally. To preserve the monarchy, he’d sweep in, retake the throne, and put some puppet ruler in charge. But, the Kalronists must have been very appreciative of the help and Arvonne wound up sinking pretty fast. If all he wanted was sea rights, then he got them and he didn’t even need to lift another finger. Sayen has the Mielsa. I didn’t realize they did, but when Jorme said it, my thoughts cemented further.”

Caudin tented his hands in front of his mouth. He kept taking a deep breath, as if to speak, then closing his mouth. “Look at who it benefits the most, Your Majesty. Obviously not Arvonne. Not the Kalronists, since they see daily how terrible their policies are and have had several attempts on their rule or lives. Not any other country. The Empire has done better, but I can’t think of any links to them, especially since it was Mayasena who has created the Empire and she was twelve when the Coup happened. Sayen is the only one who got what they wanted. They have access to the sea, their economy is doing better, and they haven’t had to spill a drop of their own blood.

“You don’t need to believe me about that, Sire. Maybe I’m dead wrong about it. I hope I am. But, just in case I’m not, don’t choose Sayen. I think Arvonne is the best choice.”

“Thank you, Wizard. I asked for your opinion and you gave it. I think…I have some dwelling to do.”

Al nodded and left Caudin at the railing, his head hung low.

* * *

Two days later, Anla, Al, and Telbarisk were waiting in the chart room. To pass the time, Anla was peering at some maps when the door opened.

“You at least have a handle on keeping us waiting at the king’s pleasure,” Al said.

Caudin smiled as he sat. “I actually was waylaid by the captain and had intended to be on time. There’s a reason for keeping people waiting, but there’s no need to do that to you three.

“I called you here to discuss the plan for when we disembark in a few weeks’ time.”

Anla could have guessed this. His mind had been more or less on this for the past few days. “And have you made a decision?” Al asked, warily.

“Two points: first, I don’t want to automatically assume that I’m leader here just because of my lineage. I want to make sure we’re all happy with that.”

“Actually, I wanted to lead for a change,” Anla said.

“You do?” Caudin asked, surprised.

“No, and no one else does. Go on, ainler.”

He smiled. “I was being fair. Second point, then, is something I need to share. I haven’t shared this with anyone. I mean, no one, not Anla, not any priest, not anyone in Arvarikor.”

Anla blinked at this and leaned forward.

“The captain of the Spirowan, the ship I was on last year that sank, knew the storm was approaching. I spoke with him briefly and he suggested I sleep as much as I could before it hit. While I napped, I had a strange dream. I say dream, but it was more than that. It believe it was a prophecy. I can only conclude that, since I’m not merited that way and it has been very accurate, it was sent by some force beyond my comprehension. The Twelve, perhaps, I don’t know.

“This dream came in four parts. The first was of a friend saying the word ‘ten’. The second was of the love of my life telling me that I had a decision to make. The third of a deep-voiced man saying that I looked good for a man who has died three times. Perhaps none of you remember saying those words, but all three of you did, precisely and exactly as I remembered it from my dream.

“More strongly was how I felt. I loved you three before I met you in Carvek. Well, Tel I still did, but Anla and you, Wizard. To a man who craved friendship and love, it was a dangerous thing to experience. When I was asleep, I felt like I knew those people. And when I awoke, I wanted to know them so very, very badly. It pained me, so I rejected it, then forgot about it until I met Anla. I was afraid for some time that she was the woman from the dream. I didn’t want it to come true. I wanted what I could get from it, but not what it meant I had to give up.

“I thought about what the dream might mean when I was deciding whether to pursue the crown. I wondered why I had been sent the future and how I had stepped twice into situations that played exactly as I had seen them a year prior. And I realized that it meant that it was pointless to fight, that my future was in someone elses hands. Some men struggle with destiny versus free will. I’m fine knowing that I’m being watched out for, protected maybe. And I’m glad you three were the ones from my dream.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Anla asked.

“I would have rather it been a silly dream before I decided to make the decision.”

“I knew They were meddling,” Al said. “This feels guided.”

“I know. I agree with you. For the record, I agreed with you before, but, well…I admit I’ve had some growing up to do.”

“I’m proud of you, Caudin,” Telbarisk said. “You’re embracing your work as a hayinfal. What was the fourth person?”

“Hmm? Ah, the dream was hazy. It was mostly sound and emotion for me. The last person was someone I knew from my childhood, I believe. His name was Jemerie, the Principal of Dairy.”

“Sounds like an exquisite title,” Anla said, smirking.

“It’s not poetic, but it was a very powerful title. He was part of what they called the Cocktail Soiree, which included the principals of dairy, wine, and grains. A very influential trio that were doing well to make gains in those industries and were seen quite often at court. They were always like amused uncles to me.”

“What did Jemerie say?”

“’I’d like to meet the woman who made you a king.’”

“Is that what you believe?”

“We can tell people whatever they want to hear from now on, but the truth of it is I’m choosing this because it’s the only way I can help all four of us attain the best life. I want a life with my wife and my two best friends. This path isn’t a guarantee of success, but it’s the best I can do.”

Anla smiled at him. “This Jemerie, where do you think he’ll be?”

“I don’t know. He may have fled the country when the Coup happened. He may have stayed put. I only mention this to be on the lookout for him. He’d be in his sixties. He’s an inch or two taller than Al, but was always heavier set, stocky in his youth, but rotund by the time I knew him. He had orange hair, like butternut squash, but I’d guess it would be white by now. It was fuzzy and untamed, always floating around him like he spent too much time rubbing his feet on carpets.

“The route I’d like to take is to head east from Eptrikonvonue in Kistuar. We’ll cross over the Mielsa River and travel to Eri Ranvel. On horseback, Wizard! You’ll finally get your wish.”

Telbarisk placed the snub bottle of wine from his pack on the table with a loud thump. “I think it’s time for this.”

“I agree!” Caudin said. “Let’s not get any wine on the maps, though. Wouldn’t want a keel haul.”

They stole glasses from a case in the corner meant for whiskey and poured the bottle out. “To Arvonne,” Al said.

“To home,” Caudin toasted and drank.