Excerpt from:
Excerpt from:
“Thank you for your patronage,” the jeweler stated dismissively. He turned and walked away to assist another customer. Gloriana thought he seemed relieved to be done with them. Gloriana didn’t dare spare another glance at her mysterious follower. She turned sharply and walked hurriedly toward the docks. She hadn’t gone far when she had to acknowledge she was not alone. She sighed in resignation. She stopped and turned to look at the man walking beside her. The now full daylight revealed that he was dressed in shades of black and charcoal. He wore the boots and coat of a falconer and the britches and shirt of a seaman. His gloves were made of fine leather dyed black like wealthy gentlemen often wore. His raven black hair curled slightly around his ears. She glimpsed his eyes under his hood. They were a dark, violet-blue; strange and mysterious. He had a refined nose and strong cheekbones. As she looked up at his shadowed features, a feeling of recognition began to build in her mind. “Are you following me?” She asked bluntly, wondering if she was being rash. If he had been sent to kill her, she might just force his hand. His eyes glittered and he tilted his head to the side. “Now, why would I do that?” He asked smoothly, enigmatically. “I saw you standing near the baker’s stall.” She told him. “Then again at the jeweler’s.” “Hmmm.” He seemed to ponder this. “Are you certain it was me?” “Quite.” She narrowed her eyes at him, “I am late, and I must be going. I have no time for games.” As she spoke, she backed toward the docks a tiny step at a time. But the man advanced as she retreated. She was reminded once again of a cat, this time stalking its prey.
“No games,” he assured her, glibly. “Perhaps we are simply travelling in the same direction? I am headed down to the docks to board a ship. I have a long journey ahead.” She wondered if he spoke the truth. Perhaps he was really just a fellow traveler who had taken an interest in her. She knew she was a relatively pretty girl. Juanne often told her how she envied her long, dark wavy hair. Before she left the school that morning, Gloriana had braided her hair and the braid now coiled down her back to her waist. Perhaps this tall, dark stranger was just making a pass at her? Part of her felt a small thrill at the thought, but the more sensible part of her was very nervous. Whether he was a wannabe suitor or an assassin, she must be extremely cautious. “Are you heading to the docks as well?” He asked. “If you are, I would be glad to escort you. The docks are no safe place for a girl alone. The sailors might get the wrong idea about a pretty young thing all alone on the wharf.” She shuddered. Of course he was right. She knew the dangers of travelling alone and had hoped to find and board The Raincrow without drawing attention to herself. She had hoped to go unnoticed but the very presence of this man made her realize that it might be impossible for her to do so. He saw her reaction to his words and smiled that cool, half smile. “Don’t worry, Princess. I won’t hurt you.” He reached out and took her elbow and moved off as if he was her chaperone about town. She did not struggle. She was too frightened. He walked with long, even strides. She noted the way he held himself with a relaxed readiness. She imagined his lithe body could leap into deadly action in the breadth of a heartbeat. They quickly made their way through the final block of the city before reaching the docks. She could feel the sea on her skin now and got a whiff of the fish market. Her nose curled up instinctively. Thankfully, the salty breeze kept the scent from
becoming overwhelming. The people milling about here were mostly sailors, fishermen and even a seaman or two who could be nothing more than pirates. Her unwanted guide pulled her to the left and out onto the wide boardwalk. Ships loomed ahead. Some were docked and others had weighed anchor in the harbor awaiting their turn at the docks. Sea birds wheeled overhead. Gloriana looked about frantically, hoping to see a friendly face she could call to for help if needed. She searched the harbor for The Raincrow. In his letter, her brother had promised her passage booked and paid for aboard the large ship. The Raincrow was one of the few large, passenger ships left that was not owned or directly controlled by the Council of Kings. Mikhail had written that Captain Reid Meyers was aware of her arrival and would see her safely to the port at Agora. She was to travel under her false name, Betsy Wellesley, until she reached the port at Agora. Mikhail would meet her there and they would finish the journey home together, whatever that meant. For as long as she could remember, the two of them had known no real home. She stumbled over a loose board and realized that the stranger holding her arm was practically dragging her down the dock at a brisk pace. She opened her mouth to protest, but was stunned to see the ship looming ahead, orange and blue flags flying. The Raincrow was a breath-taking ship. She was large and brightly appointed. The mermaid on her bow glowed, polished and freshly painted. Gloriana breathed a sigh of relief before remembering her current companion. She stopped suddenly, looking down at the hand on her arm pointedly. “Thank you,” she told him, looking up at him, her jaw stubbornly set. “I appreciate your escort, but I see my ship and I fear I will be late. I wish you a safe journey.” She tried to move away then, but he did not immediately release her. His expression was thoughtful. She pulled again and he let her go, seemingly reluctantly. “You are headed to The Raincrow, are you not?” he asked, gesturing toward the large vessel.
“Why?” she asked, trying to avoid telling him anything she shouldn’t. “Because, it would be quite fortuitous if you are boarding that particular vessel, as I have commissioned passage on the same.” He smiled that cool smile down at her. In the far distance, she saw a small group of men including a man who must be Captain Meyers standing near the gang-plank of the Raincrow, and decided it would be best to take her chances. “Good day, sir.” She said briskly and practically bolted away. Between her and the Raincrow was a long dock packed high with crates and cargo waiting to be loaded. She was nearly halfway to the Raincrow when a rather smelly, large bag of rags stepped from behind one of the stacks of crates directly into her path. “Where are ye headed in such a hurry, pretty lady?” the man asked, foul breath in her face. “Ugh,” she nearly gagged on his rotting breath and tried to step around him. The stinking pirate grabbed her with a meaty hand. She glared down at it, thinking she was very tired of being grabbed by strangers. “Let me pass. I don’t want any trouble.” She insisted firmly, but the man only grinned bigger, showing even more rotting, broken teeth. He jerked her closer, his other hand grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling it up to his flat nose. He took a long sniff. She regretted having packed her knife in her bag. Well, there was nothing for it, she lifted her leg and brought her heel down hard on the top of his right foot. He let go of her and hollered, bending over to reach for his injured foot. She bolted around the man but another miscreant wearing a rag on his head stepped from behind the same stack of crates into her path. “What’s the matter, Doyle, this little kitten scratch ye?” Doyle growled at his cohort, “Grab her, ye moron!” Gloriana turned to run back the way she had come but smacked into a pair of arms that wrapped around her like steel bands. Her eyes wide, she looked up to find the now familiar hooded man. She opened her mouth to scream but stopped when the man suddenly looked over her head
and smiled at the pirates behind her. It was a different smile than he had shown her earlier, hard with an edge of danger to it. Then, he surprised her by gently pushing her behind himself. “This young lady is with me,” he said, his hand on the hilt of the short sword at his hip. “Yeah? And who are you?” flat-nose asked haughtily. Her unlikely rescuer slowly reached up and pulled back his hood. She watched around his shoulder as the two troublemakers froze in place, mouths agape. The flatnosed one yelled at the skinny one, “Let’s get outta here!” Then they turned tail and ran away. She stepped out from behind the man’s well-muscled back and stood blinking dumbly for a moment, staring at the empty dock where they had been. “I don’t understand,” she started to say, turning to see his face for the first time. But she saw the scar then, running down his left temple like a silver river that ended in a small starburst below his cheekbone, and she very nearly fainted or ran; her body couldn’t decide which to do first. She gulped and pushed her wayward hair behind her ear with a trembling hand. She felt her knees begin to shake. Gloriana was very certain of one thing in that moment: If this man was sent to kill her, she was already as good as dead. She had seen that face and that scar illustrated on dozens of wanted posters throughout the city. The artist had created a remarkable likeness to the man before her. He was the Maja Diymon Rayke. And he was dead. Or he was supposed to be. He had been hunted, wanted by the Council for crimes of mass murder, treason and using magic illicitly. Stories had circulated for the last few years about his malicious deeds before he was finally tracked down and killed outside of Bridon. She blinked twice. This was no ghost standing before her. “Perhaps we should get you aboard the ship before anything else untoward happens?” The Maja asked softly, reaching up to pull his hood back into place.
She swallowed hard and nodded stiffly. She couldn’t look at him again and watched her feet as they walked together to the Raincrow. Terror was slowly being replaced by frightened confusion. Why had he saved her? If he wanted her dead, he could have simply let those pirates take care of it for him. By all accounts, Diymon Rayke was a dangerous sorcerer with a dubious history. Tales of his dark deeds abounded. His treachery had led to even more heightened sanctions against magic use in the kingdoms. Practicing magic was now an offense punishable by death. As they walked the last few yards toward the gangplank, he leaned down to her, “I must take my leave of you now, Princess. You will be safe from here.” He stopped and bowed his head to her then dissolved into the hectic bustle around the ship. She wasted no time digging out her boarding papers and making her way up the gangplank. She scarcely allowed herself to breathe until she had entered her small berth below deck and locked the door behind her. She leaned against the cool wood of the door, breathing hard until the shaking of her knees forced her to sit down on her cot. Diymon Rayke boarded The Raincrow unseen by most. The steward took his boarding papers with a suspicious glance at his hood but the papers were in order so he granted him permission to board. Diymon made his way to the cabins below, pausing a moment outside the door where he knew the girl would be and listened. He heard no sound from within. After a moment, he continued on to his own berth two doors down the hall. He put down his small pack and reclined back upon his cot. He pulled the velvet pouch from his pocket and poured the ruby necklace into the palm of his hand. He stared at it. He couldn’t fathom what had possessed him to buy it. The money the Sybil had given him had been more than enough for him to afford it, but the purchase made no sense. The girl had just seemed so sad when she spoke of her mother. He leaned back into the pillow, resting an arm over his eyes.
“What have I gotten myself into?” he asked himself, wondering if he had made a big mistake agreeing to take this journey.
Copyright © 2013 by Jennifer Halstead
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Unrevealed by Jennifer Halstead is available on www.Amazon.com in both paperback and Kindle versions.
“Thank you for your patronage,” the jeweler stated dismissively. He turned and walked away to assist another customer. Gloriana thought he seemed relieved to be done with them. Gloriana didn’t dare spare another glance at her mysterious follower. She turned sharply and walked hurriedly toward the docks. She hadn’t gone far when she had to acknowledge she was not alone. She sighed in resignation. She stopped and turned to look at the man walking beside her. The now full daylight revealed that he was dressed in shades of black and charcoal. He wore the boots and coat of a falconer and the britches and shirt of a seaman. His gloves were made of fine leather dyed black like wealthy gentlemen often wore. His raven black hair curled slightly around his ears. She glimpsed his eyes under his hood. They were a dark, violet-blue; strange and mysterious. He had a refined nose and strong cheekbones. As she looked up at his shadowed features, a feeling of recognition began to build in her mind. “Are you following me?” She asked bluntly, wondering if she was being rash. If he had been sent to kill her, she might just force his hand. His eyes glittered and he tilted his head to the side. “Now, why would I do that?” He asked smoothly, enigmatically. “I saw you standing near the baker’s stall.” She told him. “Then again at the jeweler’s.” “Hmmm.” He seemed to ponder this. “Are you certain it was me?” “Quite.” She narrowed her eyes at him, “I am late, and I must be going. I have no time for games.” As she spoke, she backed toward the docks a tiny step at a time. But the man advanced as she retreated. She was reminded once again of a cat, this time stalking its prey.
“No games,” he assured her, glibly. “Perhaps we are simply travelling in the same direction? I am headed down to the docks to board a ship. I have a long journey ahead.” She wondered if he spoke the truth. Perhaps he was really just a fellow traveler who had taken an interest in her. She knew she was a relatively pretty girl. Juanne often told her how she envied her long, dark wavy hair. Before she left the school that morning, Gloriana had braided her hair and the braid now coiled down her back to her waist. Perhaps this tall, dark stranger was just making a pass at her? Part of her felt a small thrill at the thought, but the more sensible part of her was very nervous. Whether he was a wannabe suitor or an assassin, she must be extremely cautious. “Are you heading to the docks as well?” He asked. “If you are, I would be glad to escort you. The docks are no safe place for a girl alone. The sailors might get the wrong idea about a pretty young thing all alone on the wharf.” She shuddered. Of course he was right. She knew the dangers of travelling alone and had hoped to find and board The Raincrow without drawing attention to herself. She had hoped to go unnoticed but the very presence of this man made her realize that it might be impossible for her to do so. He saw her reaction to his words and smiled that cool, half smile. “Don’t worry, Princess. I won’t hurt you.” He reached out and took her elbow and moved off as if he was her chaperone about town. She did not struggle. She was too frightened. He walked with long, even strides. She noted the way he held himself with a relaxed readiness. She imagined his lithe body could leap into deadly action in the breadth of a heartbeat. They quickly made their way through the final block of the city before reaching the docks. She could feel the sea on her skin now and got a whiff of the fish market. Her nose curled up instinctively. Thankfully, the salty breeze kept the scent from
becoming overwhelming. The people milling about here were mostly sailors, fishermen and even a seaman or two who could be nothing more than pirates. Her unwanted guide pulled her to the left and out onto the wide boardwalk. Ships loomed ahead. Some were docked and others had weighed anchor in the harbor awaiting their turn at the docks. Sea birds wheeled overhead. Gloriana looked about frantically, hoping to see a friendly face she could call to for help if needed. She searched the harbor for The Raincrow. In his letter, her brother had promised her passage booked and paid for aboard the large ship. The Raincrow was one of the few large, passenger ships left that was not owned or directly controlled by the Council of Kings. Mikhail had written that Captain Reid Meyers was aware of her arrival and would see her safely to the port at Agora. She was to travel under her false name, Betsy Wellesley, until she reached the port at Agora. Mikhail would meet her there and they would finish the journey home together, whatever that meant. For as long as she could remember, the two of them had known no real home. She stumbled over a loose board and realized that the stranger holding her arm was practically dragging her down the dock at a brisk pace. She opened her mouth to protest, but was stunned to see the ship looming ahead, orange and blue flags flying. The Raincrow was a breath-taking ship. She was large and brightly appointed. The mermaid on her bow glowed, polished and freshly painted. Gloriana breathed a sigh of relief before remembering her current companion. She stopped suddenly, looking down at the hand on her arm pointedly. “Thank you,” she told him, looking up at him, her jaw stubbornly set. “I appreciate your escort, but I see my ship and I fear I will be late. I wish you a safe journey.” She tried to move away then, but he did not immediately release her. His expression was thoughtful. She pulled again and he let her go, seemingly reluctantly. “You are headed to The Raincrow, are you not?” he asked, gesturing toward the large vessel.
“Why?” she asked, trying to avoid telling him anything she shouldn’t. “Because, it would be quite fortuitous if you are boarding that particular vessel, as I have commissioned passage on the same.” He smiled that cool smile down at her. In the far distance, she saw a small group of men including a man who must be Captain Meyers standing near the gang-plank of the Raincrow, and decided it would be best to take her chances. “Good day, sir.” She said briskly and practically bolted away. Between her and the Raincrow was a long dock packed high with crates and cargo waiting to be loaded. She was nearly halfway to the Raincrow when a rather smelly, large bag of rags stepped from behind one of the stacks of crates directly into her path. “Where are ye headed in such a hurry, pretty lady?” the man asked, foul breath in her face. “Ugh,” she nearly gagged on his rotting breath and tried to step around him. The stinking pirate grabbed her with a meaty hand. She glared down at it, thinking she was very tired of being grabbed by strangers. “Let me pass. I don’t want any trouble.” She insisted firmly, but the man only grinned bigger, showing even more rotting, broken teeth. He jerked her closer, his other hand grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling it up to his flat nose. He took a long sniff. She regretted having packed her knife in her bag. Well, there was nothing for it, she lifted her leg and brought her heel down hard on the top of his right foot. He let go of her and hollered, bending over to reach for his injured foot. She bolted around the man but another miscreant wearing a rag on his head stepped from behind the same stack of crates into her path. “What’s the matter, Doyle, this little kitten scratch ye?” Doyle growled at his cohort, “Grab her, ye moron!” Gloriana turned to run back the way she had come but smacked into a pair of arms that wrapped around her like steel bands. Her eyes wide, she looked up to find the now familiar hooded man. She opened her mouth to scream but stopped when the man suddenly looked over her head
and smiled at the pirates behind her. It was a different smile than he had shown her earlier, hard with an edge of danger to it. Then, he surprised her by gently pushing her behind himself. “This young lady is with me,” he said, his hand on the hilt of the short sword at his hip. “Yeah? And who are you?” flat-nose asked haughtily. Her unlikely rescuer slowly reached up and pulled back his hood. She watched around his shoulder as the two troublemakers froze in place, mouths agape. The flatnosed one yelled at the skinny one, “Let’s get outta here!” Then they turned tail and ran away. She stepped out from behind the man’s well-muscled back and stood blinking dumbly for a moment, staring at the empty dock where they had been. “I don’t understand,” she started to say, turning to see his face for the first time. But she saw the scar then, running down his left temple like a silver river that ended in a small starburst below his cheekbone, and she very nearly fainted or ran; her body couldn’t decide which to do first. She gulped and pushed her wayward hair behind her ear with a trembling hand. She felt her knees begin to shake. Gloriana was very certain of one thing in that moment: If this man was sent to kill her, she was already as good as dead. She had seen that face and that scar illustrated on dozens of wanted posters throughout the city. The artist had created a remarkable likeness to the man before her. He was the Maja Diymon Rayke. And he was dead. Or he was supposed to be. He had been hunted, wanted by the Council for crimes of mass murder, treason and using magic illicitly. Stories had circulated for the last few years about his malicious deeds before he was finally tracked down and killed outside of Bridon. She blinked twice. This was no ghost standing before her. “Perhaps we should get you aboard the ship before anything else untoward happens?” The Maja asked softly, reaching up to pull his hood back into place.
She swallowed hard and nodded stiffly. She couldn’t look at him again and watched her feet as they walked together to the Raincrow. Terror was slowly being replaced by frightened confusion. Why had he saved her? If he wanted her dead, he could have simply let those pirates take care of it for him. By all accounts, Diymon Rayke was a dangerous sorcerer with a dubious history. Tales of his dark deeds abounded. His treachery had led to even more heightened sanctions against magic use in the kingdoms. Practicing magic was now an offense punishable by death. As they walked the last few yards toward the gangplank, he leaned down to her, “I must take my leave of you now, Princess. You will be safe from here.” He stopped and bowed his head to her then dissolved into the hectic bustle around the ship. She wasted no time digging out her boarding papers and making her way up the gangplank. She scarcely allowed herself to breathe until she had entered her small berth below deck and locked the door behind her. She leaned against the cool wood of the door, breathing hard until the shaking of her knees forced her to sit down on her cot. Diymon Rayke boarded The Raincrow unseen by most. The steward took his boarding papers with a suspicious glance at his hood but the papers were in order so he granted him permission to board. Diymon made his way to the cabins below, pausing a moment outside the door where he knew the girl would be and listened. He heard no sound from within. After a moment, he continued on to his own berth two doors down the hall. He put down his small pack and reclined back upon his cot. He pulled the velvet pouch from his pocket and poured the ruby necklace into the palm of his hand. He stared at it. He couldn’t fathom what had possessed him to buy it. The money the Sybil had given him had been more than enough for him to afford it, but the purchase made no sense. The girl had just seemed so sad when she spoke of her mother. He leaned back into the pillow, resting an arm over his eyes.
“What have I gotten myself into?” he asked himself, wondering if he had made a big mistake agreeing to take this journey.
Copyright © 2013 by Jennifer Halstead
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Unrevealed by Jennifer Halstead is available on www.Amazon.com in both paperback and Kindle versions.
