The merchant’s eyes slid to Theo’s shoulder where a patch of the same crest was sewn to mark his allegiance to Luana and then the gold bars on the front of his uniform noting his rank. “Lord Theodoric Fastrada!”
“It’s Captain Theodoric Fastrada.” Theo sighed and refrained from rolling his eyes, not one for titles unless it came from his military rank. His father may have been the Duke of Luana, but he didn’t care for the courtesy title as a child of the duke. He was the second born anyways. While he would one day bear the rank of chief and oversee Luana’s forces, his older brother, Luther, would bear the title of Duke of Luana.
“Captain?” The sailor’s jaw feathered, and his hand slid to his side. He turned to the merchant. “Soldiers?”
“Yes, we are governed by the laws of the duke. If he should see fit to place soldiers along these docks, then he has every right.”
A second sailor, with skin a shade darker and a height of at least three more inches, approached the first sailor and whispered in his ear.
“No business with soldiers.” The first sailor turned his head and spat on Theo’s boot. “Fastida!”
Bastard?Theo’s hand slid from his dagger to his sword. Tendasy was a common language in the Black Sea but most prominently found in the enemy nations under the Deavonian Accords. If they were a part of the alliance sailing under Deavopan’s banner, then they weren’t welcome in Godwin.
“Fangrallu gal tris fastida ied nil trid Tendasy?” Theo said, relaying to the man how a bastard could ever come to speak Tendasy.
Both the sailors’ faces leached of color. Tendasy wasn’t a language taught in traditional Godwin schools, but by private tutors, ones who’d taught Theo since he’d been a boy at the behest of his father.
The first sailor reached for a dagger hidden in his waistband. Theo reacted on instinct, disarming him before he had a chance to brandish it. The distinct click of a pistol had Theo’s eyes trained on the second sailor. He stood behind his friend and pointed the barrel straight at Theo’s head.
Gods, he hated guns. They weren’t standard issue for Godwin soldiers. Not that the kingdom could afford them.
“What in the realm is—” Esaias became speechless as he took in the scene.
“A little assistance.” Theo raised his hands, backing away and dropping the dagger he’d taken at the sailor’s feet. “I think they’re of the Deavonian Accords.”
Esaias palmed his sword, causing gasps as the crowd around them began pushing and shoving to pull back from the line of fire. Weapons were drawn, and pistols were loaded. The two sailors weren’t the only ones of their crew in front of the Trade House.
It was in a single breath. A shot fired and the riot broke out. Blades crashed, and Theo had a second to drop before he got his head shot off by a pistol. He was on his feet and slammed into the first sailor, wrappinghis arms around his middle as he brought him to the ground. It was a part of him, his instinct to attack. Theo had the man in a headlock and unconscious before he knew what his body was doing.
His sword was in his hand as the inner soldier took over his mind, meeting blades and disarming sailors. Theo ignored a cry ringing out and the sound of splintering wood and crashing carts. He didn’t allow the burning of his nostrils from the gunpowder to cloud his head. He caught Esaias in his periphery guarding his other side and Gris firing from a safe distance above. Her arrows found homes in the thighs of her opponents.
Not to kill, Theo reminded himself. He switched his tactics, disarming the sailors who came at him and driving his elbow into the nose of a man ready to drive his dagger into Theo’s gut.
“That’s enough!” A sharp shout rang through the streets, and he knew Bennet had arrived with more soldiers.
The tall and burly sailor he’d knocked unconscious roused and sneaked off toward the docks. If enemy forces of the Accords had begun infiltrating the streets of Duncaster, then the problem had escalated to a deadly level. Theo ran after the sailor, dodging a sword made to take off his head. He rolled from the attack, turning only a brief second to find an arrow sticking out of the man’s leg.
More soldiers flooded the streets—the ones he and Bennet had brought to station along the docks and the ones already under the governor’s command. But the sailor was getting away. Theo raced after him, splitting from the fight. With his sword drawn and his chest heaving, he scanned the cobbled street. The sailor ran toward a brigantine already working their ropes and ready to set sail.
Theo sprinted for the ship. He needed to know if it was an isolated incident. What if it wasn’t and the Accords were making moves against Godwin?Theo pushed away the internal strife and urged himself on.
His legs burned as they pounded against the planks. The crowds parted for him, gawking and gasping as he ran by. A fisherman fell into thewater as he stumbled back.
He was gaining on the sailor, but the ship loomed closer. His comrades shouted to him, lowering a rope ladder. Theo picked up his pace, panting as he ran. Not another war. It ended now.
Someone stepped from the crowd, ramming into Theo and sending him tumbling to the deck. He rolled and struck a post. His vision blurred on the edges. He noticed a pair of boots with golden serpents before they scrambled away and disappeared into the swarm of bodies.
“Theo!” Gris’s shout parted the crowd, and she kneeled at his side.
His head pounded, and his vision was still splotchy as Gris helped him to a seated position. She offered her water canteen, and he drank as the tunneling dispersed and Gris’s concerned face came into sharp focus.
“He got away.” Theo took another long swig.
“Yes, but Bennet and the others have already arrested the few stragglers. I can’t believe all that was over a stupid tariff.”
“They spoke Tendasy,” Theo blurted.
Gris balked, grabbing her canteen. “You don’t think—”
