Page 82 of A Warrior's Heart

Malik tossed him the whole bag of coin.

The blacksmith gaped. “This is too much.”

“Add three short swords and two daggers to it then,” Malik said, grabbing the weapons off the wall before placing them on the table with a heavy thud. He snatched two hooded cloaks off a hook as well. “And these.”

“You’ve given me enough coin to buy everythin’ in this shop,” the blacksmith said, stunned.

“I don’t need everything in the shop. I only need this.”

The blacksmith wrapped the weapons to make them easier to carry before handing me the silver dagger. “A blue stone to signal the sea. So you will always have a piece of home wherever ya wander.”

Was that why he’d made it for his son?

I held it to my chest, feeling my eyes start to prickle with tears. “I’ll take care of it. I promise.”

By the time we left the blacksmith’s shop, the sun had dipped below the horizon, taking the light of day. Oil lamps glowed outside shop windows, and a group of sailors passed us, heading toward the tavern where drunken men swayed on their feet and tried to pick fights with anyone who looked their way. Two of them broke out into a brawl, and Malik swept me off my feet and carried me until we were away from the noise. He placed me down when the harbor came into view.

“Do you like your new cloak?” he asked. The weapons clanked in the bag. He made them seem lighter than they were. I’d barely been able to lift one of those short swords, and he had several.

“I do.” I touched the soft green material. He had wrapped the cloak around me before we’d left Bailey’s Smithing. The other cloak was for Lorcan. “It matches the tunic Eva bought for me.”

The assassins were rolling the last of the water barrels onto the ship when we returned. We would have enough to last another week. Any longer than that, and the water began to turn slimy with green scum because of how it was stored. Repulsive didn’t even begin to describe the rancid odor it caused.

“You look lovely,” Eva said once I boarded the ship. She ran her hand along my leather chest piece. “Sturdy but it feels light.”

“I have something for you as well,” Malik said, reaching into the bag and pulling out one of the long daggers.

Eva moved the weapon between her hands. “Has a nice weight to it. Thank you. You know I prefer to save lives than take them though.”

“I know.” Malik pressed his lips into a grim line. “Use it for self-defense and only join the fighting if you must. Is the prince still in his cabin?”

“Yes.” Eva glanced over her shoulder at the doorway. “I tried speaking with him when Nereus and I returned, but he was fast asleep. I didn’t wish to wake him.”

“You there!” an unfamiliar voice called from the dock.

Malik shoved me behind him, as if on instinct, and looked down at the man who’d spoken.

“A storm’s comin’,” the man said. “I wouldn’t sail tonight if I were you. I nearly lost my fishin’ boat to the storms two days ago. They say it ain’t natural.”

“How so?”

“There are waves so tall they could easily sink the king’s Man O’War with a single hit. There’re other stories too. I’ve heard tales from passing sailors who speak of seeing faces in the water.”

“What kind of faces?” Lorcan asked, stepping up beside Malik. He seemed to have more strength now, though his eyes remained tired.

“Monstrous women,” the fisherman answered. “Sharp teeth, pointed ears, and webbed fingers. They surrounded the ship on all sides and shook it, trying to pull it down to the depths.”

Lorcan’s face paled. He kept his composure when responding to the man. “They are but stories, I’m sure. Nothing to concern yourself with.”

The fisherman shrugged and continued walking along the dock, hauling a thick rope over his shoulder.

“Speak, my prince.” Malik placed a hand on Lorcan’s back. Probably so he could catch him if Lor stumbled like he did earlier. “What are you thinking?”

“I fear King James now has a valid reason to consider the treaty broken,” Lorcan answered, his voice shaking.

“Why?” I asked.

“The treaty states that peace will remain between the sea and the land as long as neither side provokes the other.” Lorcan looked out to sea, the dark water restless just like all our hearts as we waited for him to explain. “Sharp teeth. Pointed ears. Beautiful, monstrous women in the sea. The fisherman was speaking of the sirens.”