The Prince's Mark

Chapter Thirty

After a fitful night's sleep, Tracou, Ina, and Pendaer trudged up the hill in the middle of Dorssur to reach the castle at the top.

Both Ina and Pendaer bought new outfits. The men and women of Dorssur wore similar clothing, essentially long, shapeless shirts that went down to their knees with bright, solid colored pants underneath. Women's clothing had embroidery around the neckline, sleeves, and hem while men's clothing tended more towards patterns. Men also wore vests that contrasted with the color of their shirt. The clothes suited Ina fine, but Pendaer couldn't stop fiddling with the vest.

"What is the point of this? It doesn't keep me any warmer," he grumbled.

But engaging with him would be a waste of time, so Ina and Tracou ignored these outbursts.

Unlike the other two, Tracou kept his own clothes. They had dulled during his extended trip, but they were made from expensive fabric and he was obviously a dezmek anyway. His role was a dezmek noble with connections, allowing him to sell Dezmerian goods at a much cheaper price than Winleans typically paid.

At the top of the hill, a pair of guards stood in front of the entrance of the castle courtyard. Ina walked over to them, smiling, while Pendaer and Tracou trailed behind her.

"Good morning. My name is Ina ferch Angharad. My father's name is Heulog ap Rhys—one of the men on the Aodehsh Council." She paused a moment to let that name sink in, but the guards looked nonplussed. "He sent me here to ask King Ekayavan if he was interested in trading for some exotic, Dezmerian fruit, among other things."

These sentries, one a boy with armor that was too big for him and the other an older man with a white beard spilling down the front of his uniform, did nothing but look them over for what felt like an eternity. Their gazes glazed past Pendaer, lingered a bit on Ina, but Tracou was their main concern. They whispered to each other in Winlean and Tracou felt hope for this plan dry up in his chest. If his presence was going to be a problem, then Pendaer would have to retreat as well. They would be back to square one.

At length, the youngest guard stepped forward, having been selected as their representative.

"We have received no message announcing your arrival, Ina ferch Angharad. Why come without that? Have you brought a message with your father's seal?"

Tracou paled. That, certainly, was a good point. He glanced up at Ina who blinked rapidly.

"Well..." she started, using an entire exhale on that one word. "Maybe you're unfamiliar with how Heulog ap Rhys prefers business to be done! A message can be intercepted and my father hates when competition gets word of his plans..."

Again, the sentries spoke to each other, occasionally looking Ina's way. The oldest man spoke gruffly and moved his hand in a harsh line—likely wanting to send the three of them away from the castle. The other gave what sounded like meek counterarguments, but the older man was firm. The youngest guard turned to them again, his head tilted slightly downward. Doubtless he was going to tell them to leave.

"What are you people waiting for?!" Pendaer shouted, pelting the guards with his words. "I knew Winlea was a backwater country, but I didn't think people in the capital working in the castle could be so uninformed as to not know the daughter of Heulog ap Rhys! Just who left you in charge? If you don't bring someone out here with some actual authority, we'll be forced to return and tell the Council just how incompetent the Winleans really are! We've wasted our time, Ina ferch Angharad!"

The oldest guard stood up straighter in response to this antagonism, one of his hands curling into a fist, all as the younger one relayed what Pendaer had said. Once he was finished, the older sentry said a few words and spat at Pendaer's feet, who flinched. The younger guard left, heading toward the castle.