COMMAND THE TIDES - Wren Handman Page 0,9
’a Jeremy. Turns out them and a bunch more have come down all the way from Labaci. That’s the capital of Sephria, right? It’s a damn long way, ’scuze me.”
“Yes, I know my geography. What does this have to do with anything?”
“It does, you’ll see! So Jeremy and David and me get to talking, and turns out them and their friends are come all this way. Now, we’ve all had us a few too many by this point, and maybe the fellows end up telling me more’n they meant to, but it turns out they’re lookin’ for the steward of the king. Well, I laugh and say the steward of the king isn’t going to be hanging around a seedy sailor’s bar in Velenos—he’ll be in the capital, what with that being where the king is, and all. But Jeremy, he tells us he’s not looking for that steward. Who he’s looking for, really, is the steward of the murdered king. S’old history, I don’t know if you even know the story, but the king of Sephria was killed by his brother, nasty bastard. ’Scuze my language, maidie. Anyway, pretty standard stuff, you know. Us…uh…u…”
“Usurper?”
“That’s the one. Usurper. Y’know, stealing the throne and whatnot. Pretty standard history book stuff. Thing is, though, king’s steward saw it coming. Had a little baby son, the king, rather, not the steward. That’d be me, ’a course, so the steward picks up that child and makes a run for it, before the rebellion even got started. So the false king, he kills the royal family and takes over, right? But see, I’m still the rightful heir.”
“But you aren’t an orphan, Darren. What about your mother?”
“I’m getting there, I’m getting there! Listen, would ya? So, see, the rebels are trying to find the steward, right, so’s they can find the heir and set him up as king, what with the uspering king now being all for murdering and beheading and overtaxing. People in those parts, they aren’t doing well and haven’t been for years. We hear about it with the oil, and all, but we don’t hear how bad it really is, not really. Now, naturally Jeremy doesn’t come out and tell me he’s a rebel, seeing as how stupid that would be if I wanted to turn him in, but…he hasn’t seen the bottom of his glass in hours, right? So he does make it pretty damn clear. He tells me they traced a twenty-year-old trail all the way to Velenos, but there it died. A mean feat it was, too, getting even that far. The king’s own men couldn’t do the same with a trail an Oblivion of a lot fresher, ’scuze the language again. So anyway, I get to thinking about it, how maybe I wouldn’t mind helping out, and I get to thinking about my gramps who I’m planning on visiting. Seems to me that old man was alive at the time, and he’s got some strange souvenirs from all over the place. Now, I know you know where this is going, but let me tell it all the same. So I tell this Jeremy, who I’ve started to take a liking to, that my gramps might know gossip of the time—he won’t talk to me about his past, or anybody else that I know of, nor would he ever hear questions about my pap or my grandmam or anything else he didn’t feel like remembering, but I figure it’s been a long while, and maybe if we gave him some whiskey it would do the trick. Now, I know Jeremy wouldn’t’ve gone along with such an idiotic plan, but he was shit out of options and he knew it. Shit, there I go again with the language.”
“It’s been five years. I think I’m used to it.”
“Yeah, well…I’m tryin’, anyway. The whole being a king thing, y’know…Wouldn’t do to be swearing, and what not. Anyway, that revolution of his wouldn’t be going anywhere without a king to make it, y’know…moral, and real and all that, so he said my gramps was the best lead he’d had in a long time. Now, to be honest…we were both fair off our asses drunk by then, so I’m sure neither of us would have thought it so grand if we’d been halfway sober. Anyway, we both go over to the captain and get him to sign Jer up, Ashua alone knows how, to hire Jer on board, and David and Ryan and the whole