King in Waiting (The Order of the White Boar Book 3) by Alex Marchant

Author:Alex Marchant [Marchant, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Marchant Ventures
Published: 2021-09-16T22:00:00+00:00

14 Landfall

In contrast to the first leg of our voyage, the second was quiet, as though our good Lord thought he had toyed enough with us and our ship and had moved on to other concerns.

My companions slowly recovered their healthful complexions and the injured sailor was soon about his work again, with only a black eye and bandage to tell of his late woe. And Guillaume Tournier settled into life on board ship alongside his new comrades. Before long he had redeemed himself with Captain van Hecke by revealing he was a journeyman blacksmith by trade. The captain set him to mending and making myriad items about the ship with the tools he lugged aboard with his bundle, and Lord Francis assured him there would be work aplenty when our voyage was over.

There was no repeat of the storm over the coming days, although the seas were indeed rough as we rounded the far corner of England into the Celtic Sea. Edward stayed mostly below decks then, as we were all advised to when the conditions changed, but his spirits rose once more as we neared our destination. More than two weeks had passed since our departure from Sluis before the blue misty mounds of distant hills first rose towards the west.

The ship put in for a short time at the sleepy port town of Wexford, from where a horseman was despatched north to Dublin to take word of Edward’s imminent arrival. My fellow passengers and I were allowed a breather upon the grey-stone quayside, the locals eyeing us curiously as they went about their daily business.

Edward, with a gallant bow, offered his hand to help Alys step from the gangplank. I followed a few paces behind as they strolled together past the barrels, sacks, fishing nets and coils of rope littering the harbourside. Shadow nosed around everything, following any scent that caught her fancy.

One of the Burgundian gentlemen stumbled as he stepped ashore, to be caught by Lord Francis’s courteous outstretched hand. I guessed the reason. After so long afloat, it was some minutes before the stone flags beneath my feet, the wood and plaster buildings edging the harbour, the church spire beyond, and even the clouds in the wintry blue vault above, ceased to wash back and forth, back and forth, as though the sea’s constant motion continued here on land.

The horses we’d brought with us were also released at last from their confining stalls below decks. They skittered and clattered their way along the plank on to the quay, Storm among them, flinging up their heads at the touch of the chill breeze. Their grooms clung to their lead reins and calmed them with soothing hands and quiet words as they walked them about the harbour. Later, though, they exchanged curses in Flemish when the captain told them his brief business here was done and that they must return their charges to the ship. I knew how difficult our voyage had been for both the horses and their keepers.

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