CHAPTER 1
The Spyglass
Roark placed the thick, concave glass lensinto the end of the leather tube, wiped it clean with the hem ofhis tunic, and set the spyglass to his eye.He focused on theshoreline and took in the bustling docks where two small boats weretied toTheRover, the trade ship he’d sailed in onfrom the Green Isles to the port of Sea Ridge.The ship was beingloaded with the goods his laird’s son, Leif, had traded for withtheir prized Highland wool.He moved his gaze west to where sixwarships were docked at their own pier with two guards at the gate.Warships he’d learned Sea Ridge’s King Jerrik kept ready to sail ata moment’s notice.
He moved the glass to the left and found theroad leading from town to the king’s compound of long houses builton the last flat expanse of ground before the mountain jutted upbehind it.He trained the glass to follow the winding path.Halfwayup the road, he spied a horse and rider accompanied by a huge,shaggy brown hound coming down from the palace.
The horse was a dark, leggy roan with a blackmane and stockings.As they got closer, he saw the rider was ayoung woman and was intrigued as she turned the horse off the roadand cut across an open field, abutting a beach west of thewarships.
To his amazement, she pulled off her bootsand tied them to her saddle.Then she tucked her skirts up underher seat, exposing a pair of long, lean legs.She urged the horse,a mare, into an easy gallop up the deserted beach away from theships and docks, and then she gave the horse its head and leanedforward in the saddle, racing in a full gallop along the shoreline,her mass of waist-length earthen brown hair streaming behindher.
He admired the line of her legs from her slimcalves to her shapely thighs, and the way her hair flew about herlike a living creature.He was in awe at the ease with which sheand the mare moved as one.After a few laps along the beach, shetucked her skirts higher and rode the mare belly deep into thewater.Raising her arms high above her head, she arched her back,her face to the sky, and smiled as the last sun of winter startedto set over the western horizon.
“Damnation.”Roark lowered the spyglass, onlyto lift it back up, finding her bare legs first and slowly raisinghis sights from her wet skirts tucked under her seat to her slimwaist and up to where her damp tunic clung to the swell of herbreasts.“Double damn.”He lifted the glass to her face.She wasfar enough away to make her features blurry, yet close enough tosee she was looking straight at him.“Bollocks.”
He raised his hand and waved, and after amoment she lifted a hand and held it up to him.She cupped bothhands and made like she was looking through a spyglass.Roark heldthe glass up and grinned as she tilted her head first one way andthen the other, like a curious little owl.She waved and thenturned her mount around, untucking her hems from her waist belt andletting her skirts drop down around her legs while returning toshore.
Roark groaned.
The knock of a small boat coming alongsidethe ship brought him back to where he was and why, and he stood atthe ship’s rail as Leif climbed up the ladder and stepped ondeck.
Roark nodded down at the small boats full offurs, spices, and bolts of worm weave, a rare, pricey cloth thatthe merchants of Sea Ridge were known for, along with severalbarrels of oils and wines.“Looks like a successful day at thetrade market,” he said.
“It was.”Leif clapped Roark on the shoulder,grinning from ear to ear.“I met the king’s eldest son, Anders, whoinvited us to sup with his family tomorrow noon whilst telling meall about the feasting and revelry to follow in celebration ofSpring’s Eve.”
“And?”
“And the entire royal family will be at thefestival, including Princess Alina.”
“Will there be masks?”Roark asked.
“There will,” Leif said.
“Good.”Roark nodded.“Our plan is fallinginto place.”
“You mean yours and my father’s plan,” Leifhuffed, apparently forgetting how Roark had been coerced intohelping form and execute these plans.
Roark and Leif had both sat in on themeetings with Laird Roger and his spies, but where Leif had beenmore interested in flirting with the serving maid, Roark had paidattention, which was why he’d insisted on bringing masks andheaddresses for the spring festival.
“It was you who got us our invitation to supwith the king’s family,” Roark said, smoothing Leif’s ruffled fur.“An invitation that will get us close to the princess.”
“True.”Leif puffed out his chest, and thenturned his attention to the crew as they brought up the bounty tostow in the ship’s hold.“Put the dry goods in the aft of thehold,” he ordered them, though they were all experienced seamenwho’d been sailing and trading onThe Roverfor years whilethis was his first voyage.“The furs and cloths go in thefore.”
“Aye, yer lairdship,” Roy, one of the olderseamen said, and then looked to Murtaugh, the captain of the shipas soon as Leif turned his back.
Making sure that Leif wasn’t looking,Murtaugh dipped his head in answer to his man’s unspoken question,and then met Roark’s gaze with a shrug, knowing he wouldn’t telltheir laird’s son.
Having lived in the laird’s house since hewas ten and two, Roark loved Leif like a brother, but that didn’tmean he was blind to his faults: arrogance born of breeding andprivilege, and a handsome face and athletic body of which he wastoo proud.
He went down into the hold and gathered aclean tunic and breeches.“I’m going to the bathhouse,” he toldLeif.“You want to come?”
Leif lifted his arm and gave his pit a sniff.“Nah, I went yesterday.A bowl of water and a washrag’ll do me finefor a few more days.”
“If all goes as planned, we’ll be sailinghome day after tomorrow,” Roark reminded him.
Leif waved him off.“Another six days withoutbathing and I’ll finally fit in with this stinking crew.”
Roark chuffed.“And you wonder why the crewhasn’t taken to you.”
