“Hold this.” Freddy shoved his lute into his friend’s hands and dug in his bag until he found the small sack of coins hidden in the bottom. He carefully counted out the agreed upon fare.
“You know,” Shea observed. “At this point, it would have been cheaper just to rent a carriage.”
He shook his head. “It would have taken longer. There’s not a straight road from the palace to the border, and with the weather there’s the risk of the roads becoming impassable. Alfred has a mind for economy and trade outside his country, but he spends little time thinking about maintaining and improving his own infrastructure if it doesn’t coincide with a profitable trade route.” He handed the coins to Shea in exchange for his instrument. “You better be the one to pay him. I doubt he would believe that I came by the money honestly.”
“You mean because you look like a starving beggar now? I can’t believe you gave him your boots.”
“What can I say? I’m a man in love.”
“You’re a man who’s going to have cold feet.”
Freddy looked at him with the straightest face he could manage. “Then I guess I’ll match Lizzie, won’t I?”
The silence stretched between them for a moment before both men erupted into laughter. Rupert returned at that moment, dressed in a woolen coat that fell to his knees and a floppy hat. He looked back and forth between the two of them as if they were crazed before thrusting his old, damaged boots at Freddy’s chest.
“Here,” he said roughly as he marched past. “You’ll want somethin’ on your feet at least.”
Freddy grinned warmly at the old man’s back. “Thank you, Rupert.” He shoved his wet feet into the boots, which were just small enough that he was thankful for the holes in the toes, and hurried down the path after the boatman. “By the way, my name is Malakai, and this is Shea.”
Rupert just grunted in response. He spun around once they reached the dock. “The money?”
Shea held out the silver coins, and Freddy watched in amusement as Rupert counted them carefully twice, apparently unbothered by the rain when there was money to be exchanged. The water flowed in steady streams off the old man’s hat, making it appear as if he were behind a miniature waterfall. Once he was satisfied, he pocketed the silver and worked quickly to undo the ropes that moored the barge to the dock.
“Get on,” he gestured.
Freddy and Shea followed his direction, climbing onto the flat, wooden surface. The small vessel was about three meters long, and just wide enough that Freddy could lay down comfortably across. A low railing wrapped around the edges, presumably to help keep cargo in place, and the only seat was a tall perch at the back for the driver to rest. Freddy set his belongings down on thedeck and leaned against the railing, nearly pitching over when the barge started moving with a sudden lurch.
“Sorry about that; my mistake.” The tone in Rupert’s voice said that he was neither sorry, nor was it a mistake.
Freddy just chuckled as he lowered himself to the deck in a more stable position. By this point, his shirt was soaked through and sticking to his skin, and water streamed over the hair that was plastered to his forehead before dripping off the end of his nose. The uncomfortable feeling of wet socks was nearly enough to drive him mad, but still he smiled.
I’m coming, Lizzie.
Chapter Five
Freddy
The rain continued for several hours, punctuated by bright flashes of lightning and heavy rolls of thunder. Despite Rupert’s loud and pointed grumbling about the weather, he wielded his barge pole masterfully as he navigated the gray waters. As the miles went by Freddy’s spirits began to lift, until they passed the point where a smaller tributary, swollen and flooded from the rain, joined the Serpens. The barge began to pick up speed as it raced over the choppy waters. Rupert shouted as the barge pole was ripped from his hands.
“I told you it was a bad day for it!”
His yell was barely heard over the clap of thunder that rent the air. The sheets of rain were falling so quickly that Freddycould barely see more than ten feet in front of them. The barge, without Rupert’s direction, careened from side to side as it rode the swift current. Freddy clung to the railing with a white-knuckled grip, praying to the Almighty that the barge wouldn’t be thrown against the bank and dashed into pieces. The Ackens bridge came and went, passing overhead like a dark shadow.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the rain slowly began to let up and the clouds began to break apart, allowing bits of sunshine to peek through. The river widened and the current abated enough that Freddy felt like he could let go of the railing and stand without the risk of falling in. Shea joined him, studying the northern bank.
The clatter of two long-handled, wooden paddles hitting the deck caught their attention. Rupert called out, “You two young’uns ought to make yourselves useful. We’re going to land on that bit of shore over there.”
Freddy followed the boatman’s pointing finger to a wide strip of sand nearly a quarter of a mile downriver. He scooped up the paddles, tossing one to Shea, and took up a position on the side of the barge opposite his friend.
“It’s time to prove your pirate look isn’t all for show,” he called as he dipped the paddle into the water.
Shea rolled his eye. “Very funny, Kai. There are plenty of reasons for wearing an eyepatch that are not related to piracy.”
“Like what?” Despite his goading, Freddy kept a careful eye on Shea’s movements, adjusting his own strokes until they were working in rhythm.
“I don’t know,” his friend drawled. “How about a war injury?”
“That’s boring. Being a pirate is much more glamorous. Don’t you agree, Rupert?” Freddy grinned over his shoulder at the old man.
