Chapter Seven

Madam Diamond left, and Remus glanced at the Prince. "Excuse me for asking questions and not wanting to be led around blind."

The Prince ignored him, and Remus looked around. The carpet was threadbare, and the bedding was faded. A cloak hanging on a hook looked new, but things that must have been left behind had seen better days.

"Everything looks old."

"She still runs a clean ship," said Sébastien. "Taking a business elsewhere might not always work, but if she moved to Redwin, she'd likely do much better. There are more people and travelers. I imagine her son has friends here in the village, and that's also partly why she hasn't already taken the risk."

Remus assumed her child was in bed by then, and overall, he'd be kept away from the main areas where the whores and customers were so he wouldn't see anything. A small painting on the wall showed Diamond, a chubby-cheeked baby, and a man with feathery wings who must have been her husband before.

Remus pointed at the painting. "He has wings."

"Wow," deadpanned Sébastien. "A winged fairy. What an oddity."

"If he went to Earth, how did he stay hidden and survive long enough to meet and convince her to come with him? Wouldn't humans view him as a monster?"

"Maybe he hunted and stayed away from civilization. Besides, I believe the tribes are a little more forgiving. I think they believe in otherworldly things, so if they saw someone who wasn't a human, they wouldn't immediately scream and run away in terror. I don't know how they met, and I don't particularly care right now."

The edge said he was angry. Remus turned away and rolled his eyes. It was a pity the guy turned into a drunk and put his wife and kid through all of that. What an asshole.

The door opened, and Madam Diamond entered with a younger man who looked to be around thirty. He wore dark trousers and a loose, green shirt. A sword belt of soft leather was slung low on his hips.

"Hello, Sébastien," he said, and the Prince didn't seem irritated that they didn't bother with titles. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise."

Paltua's dark hair hung loose, and a thin gold band with an emerald winked on his pinky finger. The muscles in his arms and legs said he'd be a force to be reckoned with in a fight.

Madam Diamond introduced Remus and settled in her chair. Her brother sat on the bed. "I'm sure Sébastien wants to know what you've learned."

"The seven brothers at Knight's farm left," Paltua started without preamble. "They have an eighth man there who is not a brother, and his name is Sam. I think he's from East Forest. He was hired for bookkeeping and other simple tasks."

"He's been here a couple of times," added Madam Diamond.

Paltua shifted on the bed and drew up a leg. "When they left, two headed for Meche."

"And the other five are likely on the way to my Uncle?" asked Sébastien.

"I couldn't go in two directions at the same time, but it seems so."

"You had him watching the farm?" Remus asked the Prince.

"Yes."

Paltua jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "I followed the two going south. They went through Redwin to Meche. I can't say if they're still there or what they're doing. As for the farm, Sam has remained to watch it. He takes care of the animals and does some basic stuff. They have crops in, and workers come during the day to tend to them."

"Who's there at night?" Sébastien leaned forward.

"Just him," said Paltua. "The workers head home with the sun, and he stays in the house. It's built similar to the halls in olden days."

"How would we get in?"

"There are multiple ways. I'm guessing you want in for some reason?"

"Of course. Are there any guards on the grounds or dogs?" asked Sébastien.

Paltua shook his head. "No. I don't think anyone would dare mess with them in general, so they have nothing like that. When the brothers are home…would you want to break in with them there?"

"No. Would you still be willing to come with us tomorrow night? I'll pay double what I paid you for watching the place."

"Yes."

Sébastien stood. "Good. Meet us by the river before the farm at midnight. Thank you, Madam Diamond."

"No problem. I have my son because of you."

"Come on, Remus. We have to return and grab some sleep. We'll be staying tomorrow while I get our pathetic group into better shape."

"Take them down the back stairs," said Madam Diamond. "Everybody thinks I'm busy with my friends, so make sure no one is around to see them."

"Got it," said Paltua.

They made it out, and Remus waited until they were by the river again to speak. "I guess you want to search the home and find out what they're up to."

"Obviously. They must have been writing with the Regent."

The two who went to Meche would likely be waiting on the ship to ensure Sébastien never arrived in Midland. "They might have burned that stuff."

"They might not have, and if there's anything to find, I want it so I have a better idea of what to expect in the future."

Remus started to stay something else, but the Prince cut him off.

"Don't nag me about it. We need to go to sleep because we have a long day tomorrow, and you need to focus on that for the moment."

***

Sébastien wasn't lying about the long day.

He had the camp up before dawn. Everything had to be dismantled, put away, and redone. If they weren't fast enough, there wouldn't be any breakfast until they did it to Sébastien's satisfaction. Lord Dubois snarled that it was getting ridiculous.

"Do you want to enter Midland with a group of men who can't work together as they should?" Sébastien demanded from atop Whisper.

Remus had to suppress a yawn. Sébastien looked like he'd had a good night's sleep and hadn't dressed up to go to a whorehouse and plot.

"I want to get to Midland at some point," Lord Dubois said in a slow voice as if the Prince was being quite silly and forgetting the purpose of the trip. "It'll be a while before I get to go home since this isn't a short journey, and I'm sure Lord Rochefort-"

"Oh, I'm in no rush." Lord Rochefort smiled at him. "It's an honor to serve my Prince, no matter how long it takes."

Lord Dubois's hands twitched like he wanted to throttle the other lord.

"A man of your age should know that the journey is the important thing, not just the destination." Sébastien, probably while picturing a dagger in his throat. Lord Dubois finally shut his trap.

The practice they'd already had must have helped. It wasn't enough to please Sébastien. Tom had everyone organized, but the Prince's men were slowing them down as a whole.

"If I can put a tent together in a decent time-me, who could easily leave the work to someone else because I'm the Crown Prince-you can do it too." Sébastien eyed the men as they stood with everything ready. "You joined the Palace guard and the army by default to fight for your Kingdom, but sometimes, your most important task is having a spot to sleep. Don't focus on how you're hungry or tired. Don't only look at the end goal. Focus on doing your current activity to the best of your ability. The end result is important, but without focusing on the journey, men will rush and get sloppy."

"A good deal of you came after the war, correct?" Heads swiveled in Remus's direction. Several said yes.

Sébastien's eyes darkened at his sudden speaking as Remus plowed on.

"A couple of years in the Palace isn't something to scoff at, and the Regent obviously saw something in you since you were selected to defend his home. I fought in the war, and I can tell you that each action besides fighting was important. Breaking down a camp means you can move to a better area faster. It might save lives."

"How is that going to save me?" snapped a guy who didn't look sixteen. "If I have to fight for my life, it's going to be with my axe, not with a tent rod."

Remus folded his arms. "What are you fighting for?"

"The Regent and the Crown Prince of Soleil."

"A Kingdom is made of citizens, and when you're actually out there, you're fighting to keep the man next to you alive. If he dies, you fight for the one after that. You fight to keep the enemy away from your fellow people who can't fight. If some die, you fight for the ones left, and you keep fighting until you win or fall. If you fall, you hope the man after you fights for the same reason. Yes, Prince Sébastien is important, and you should raise your weapon and be loyal to him until the end, but the men beside you and the citizens back home are what you battle for because that's what makes up the Kingdom. The Kingdom is not solely composed of the Prince and Regent."

The teenager squinted and said nothing. Hopefully, the words would sink in.

"If you pack up a camp and send the cart drivers away since they're not fighters because the enemy is near, you might save their lives. If men are injured and unable to do their duties, others must be able to seamlessly slide into the position so the group as a whole can continue working. If you know the enemy is coming by dawn, do you want to be caught with your drawers down? Do you want to waste your time struggling with tent rods when you know you won't be getting much sleep? Every task that you're set to is for the betterment of everyone. It also creates discipline which is needed when fighting."

Several sets of eyes watched Remus. A few of the older ones who had seen real combat nodded. Preparation and getting somewhere could last longer than the actual battle. Hopefully, agreeing with Sébastien and nudging them toward his thinking would help. If the slave agreed, Sébastien wouldn't look like such a taskmaster. He also hadn't fought, so some might view him as simply pulling words from his arse.

"Nice from the one who came from the enemy we fought against," said Lord Dubois. "Like you care."

"I do care," declared Remus.

"You'd laugh if we all fell into the ocean and drowned."

"No, actually I wouldn't. In case you forgot, we're at peace now so these are my fellow fairies and children of Elira. Peace was made so we could stop being on opposing sides. Everyone in this group is to serve and be loyal to the Prince."

Lord Dubois shouldered aside a couple of men who didn't move out of his way fast enough. "You're not loyal to Prince Sébastien. You're here as his slave because you have no choice. Like I'd listen to the words of a slave who'd stab his Master if he had the chance."

"I've had plenty of opportunity." Remus kept his eyes locked on the Earl. "Prince Sébastien looks well to me."

"Because you'd be risking your life."

"My slave is smarter than you," Sébastien suddenly spoke up as he watched the pair.

Lord Dubois swelled with anger as he slowly turned. "Did you just compare me to him? An enemy? Your Majesty, I fought for your Father-"

"Are we at war with Rowland right at this moment?" Sébastien furrowed his brow.

"Have you forgotten what this man's family did to yours?"

"I'm sure I'm more keenly aware of it compared to you. Remus serves me to make up for it. He just told the men some important facts. Facts that you might have mentioned since you're older and experienced. You're a lord, yet you're too eager to complain. I'm trying to improve the men. What have you been doing? At least my slave sees the point of this exercise and has the discipline to work like the rest without complaints."

Lord Dubois didn't have an answer to that. Remus tried not to smirk or appear smug.

"Get back to work," said Sébastien.

The men did a little better, and they were permitted breakfast before breaking down the camp once more. Tom organized them again, and some seemed to be properly catching on to their tasks with the repetition as they grew used to working with the rest who knew what to do.

It was bullshit that Sébastien had to do this and get his side trained. A Prince shouldn't have to do a Commander's job since making or breaking down a camp was a pretty basic thing and something they should be taught early on. It was also a task they needed to practice when new people came in so that everyone could manage in a group regardless of size. Commander Martin had failed in that department, and the Regent, who should have been periodically ensuring that he was properly doing his job without babysitting him, had also failed.

He was likely sitting on his arse at home and smugly imagining his nephew being unable to cope with real work and effort. How wrong he was.

With a late lunch approaching, a few tried to hurry as they went through it again, and Remus warned them against rushing.

"Do your task as smoothly as possible. The speed will follow with experience."

Remus finally had some hope by their last round of the day. They almost made it within an hour. Some of the men appeared proud of themselves since they weren't bumbling like on day one. A few of Lord Dubois's men screwed up on tents, and Remus figured they had started rushing, eager to be fucking done for the day.

When they had dinner, Lord Dubois took his food into his tent, and Remus imagined him pouting inside like a child. Sébastien took Whisper out on a quick run beyond the camp since he'd spent all day watching them and carrying his fairy around a bit.

Remus went to lie on his cot after washing. He'd been able to set his mind to the task at hand earlier, and now, with that done, he wondered what exactly they'd be doing tonight. The long day with less sleep had also worn him out. He dozed off at some point and finally awoke to water splashing.

Confused, he sat up. "Oh, Elira. What time is it?"

"Not late enough to go just yet."

Remus stood to come around the curtain. Too late, he thought the Prince might be naked or halfway there, and he should have kept his butt on the pallet. Sébastien was drying his face, and damp tendrils of hair lay askew across the black linen of his shirt.

"You snore loud enough to be heard on Earth," the Prince grumbled. "Did you wash?"

"Yeah. I did it earlier while you were riding Whisper."

"Good." Sébastien gave his hair a last rubbing with the small drying sheet before approaching his trunk. "Go behind the curtain until I say you can come out."

Remus had to help him lace up the jerkin. Bit by bit, the strip of skin with the feathers vanished, and the Prince added on his usual, black layers including the corset. The corset which caused dirty thoughts to drift through Remus's mind the second it went on. Damn it. Why?

"Why do you have to wear that if we're meeting by the farm? Are you trying to look nice for Sam?"

Sébastien gave him a steely look before he smiled. "Why, yes, actually. I am."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Fine. Keep me in the dark."

He was about to say the lack of trust was a bit dumb at this point even though Sébastien had a good reason for not fully trusting anyone. Honestly, Remus could wait until later, put a knife in his back, and haul ass. Or he could find some way to sabotage things.

Like the previous night, they sat in the dark so if anyone happened to come out for a piss and look at their tent, they'd think the Prince was asleep.

"It'd be easier if you were a little more forthcoming about everything," said Remus. "I don't like not knowing what exactly to expect when we're heading into potential danger."

"My apologies for annoying you." Sébastien proceeded to be quiet and not forthcoming.

"It'd be easier for both of us. I don't know if you think I might sabotage things or fuck up…we should be on the same page before doing anything. How are we going to get in-"

"If you know everything beforehand, you might seek to turn it all to your advantage one day while I can go fuck myself and die in a ditch for all you care."

He thought as Remus suspected. "That's not my intent."

He received no answer while he tapped his fingers on the table and imagined the Prince sitting on the bed, upright and stiff like a flagpole. Unbowing despite all of the shit life had dumped on him.

Remus suppressed a sigh. Demanding trust wasn't going to work. Past things weren't going to suddenly vanish.

***

Paltua met them along the side of the river. "He's still up. I looked earlier. Of course, he might be in bed by the time we get there."

"Does Sam often stay up late?"

"Yeah, usually." Paltua carried a spear, and a little crystal lantern hung from his belt. "Come on. I think it'd be easy to sneak in downstairs. We can simply go around the back where the kitchen is and-"

"I'm going to walk up to the front door and knock," Sébastien declared.

Paltua narrowed his eyes. "I thought we were sneaking in. Not announcing our presence and marching through the front door. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What's Hel have to do with this?" asked Remus.

Paltua pursed his lips at Remus. "Human thing. Sébastien, you want something, right?"

"Yes. This is how we're going to do it. Turn off the lantern. I doubt anyone is around, but still…"

Paltua tapped it twice to make it go out, and Remus blinked, trying to make out their vague forms.

"Could you get in upstairs?" asked Sébastien.

"Hmm. Yeah. A downstairs window would be easier, but I could climb up."

"Where are the stairs?"

"In the corner behind a partition. The whole center of the house is open, and the upstairs rooms are arranged around the main hall. If you came out of a bedroom, a railing would be right in front of you, and you could look down into the main hall. You could use the walkway to get to the other rooms. There's a fire in the center, and the kitchen is in the back. When I looked in the kitchen window, I noticed a little set of stairs that likely meets with the main one."

"That does sound rather old-fashioned," said Sébastien.

"I imagine it works for a bunch of bachelor men, and they like the style. There's plenty of space."

"I'm going to knock," said Sébastien. "When Sam answers the door, I'll pretend my horse went down and beg to be allowed to sleep on the floor until dawn."

"What if he says no?" asked Remus.

"I'll offer money. I'm sure Sam has some fighting ability if he was left there alone, and his bedroom door likely has a latch. I doubt he'll worry about being killed in his sleep, and what fool would take the risk to rob them? Paltua, you'll sneak in a window. We'll attack him, get him tied up, and I'll let Remus in. Afterward, we'll get him to talk, and if he refuses, I'm sure Remus can convince him the painful way."

"Uh, I'm not into torture," said Remus.

"This is why I don't tell you everything," said Sébastien. "The first thing out of your mouth is a complaint. I didn't even say-"

"Well, excuse me. Convincing someone the painful way sounds like torture, and I'm not going to watch someone suffer for hours and hours."

"If you need me to kill someone, I can do that," said Paltua. "It's quick. Usually."

"I'm not into it either, but I need to know what the others are planning. If there's no evidence that I can hold in my hand and be sure of without a doubt-"

"What if he doesn't know anything?" reasoned Remus. "He's not related. Besides, two must be on your ship, so that's what you need to be worried about most."

"I need all of the facts. There might be others. There could be something I haven't thought of either."

"So we can figure that out."

"Not without all of the facts if I can possibly get them now . Besides, after I've figured it out and have any potential correspondence, I'm burning their home to the ground."

Paltua cleared his throat. "Listen, I know the Regent wants you dead. You didn't say that in your letters to Diamond, but it's pretty obvious since you're worried about what they're doing and looking for evidence now. You're headed to Meche, and two of the brothers went there. Since Corentin is on the throne now, and you're less than three years away from being coronated, he must want to keep it. My sister owes you, and you're finally using that favor."

"I assumed it'd be obvious if someone thought hard enough about it," said Sébastien. "What's your point?"

"If he's going through this much trouble to kill you, it might be better to haul ass and save yourself," said Paltua. "Get out now while you still can."

"I should be a coward?" demanded the Prince. "Would you merely flee?"

He huffed. "No, but that's different."

"I don't see how."

"I don't have a crown in my future. If anyone wants me dead, it'd likely be because I've got a fat coin purse that they want to get their grubby hands on, and that's about it. This is politics, and the prize is a bit more grand. The Regent isn't a lone outlaw you can toss in a ditch and forget about."

"And?"

"He's not going to back down because he's scared and values his life more than a coin purse. Say you get in, find all the information you want, and avert disaster for yourself there. Then, you go to Midland…what about that? I don't think a man with a throne on the line is going to give up that easily. Hell, he's already sitting on it. He just needs you permanently gone."

"As things come, I'll deal with them," said Sébastien. "I can't read his mind. I can do my best to stay ahead and avert each attempt as it comes whether it's here or in Midland. I need information. Sam's committing treason with the Knights, and we're dealing with him now. The prize is grand if I win too, and I'm not running from my throne. My Father didn't raise sons who flee at the first sign of danger. If it gets too gross for you, I'll do the worst things if needed. Can you both manage to not complain? We need to look perfectly united on this. If he sees a trio before him with a crack in the ranks, he's going to hold on longer."

"Yeah," said Remus, and Paltua grumbled his agreement.

"I've got a fat coin purse with your name on it," said Sébastien. "Keep it safe afterward so nobody tries to get their grubby hands on it."

"I will," said Paltua.

"I suggest you hide out for a bit too."

"I already told my sister I would," said Paltua. "I doubt anyone would suspect me, but it's best just in case someone grows suspicious. When should I come out once you're inside? It won't take me long to get in."

"I'll cough."

They hopped the fence to the property and slowly made their way between the fields. From what Remus knew of the Ten Knights and the remaining ones, they had all decided to never marry because that would be a distraction. Women or abundant males also meant children, and they thought that was a weakness. Fighting was their life.

The funny thing was that they'd never been officially knighted, and no one, including royalty, complained about their titles. Their Father had trained them with his Uncle, who had once been a trainer for real Knights in South Forest. When the brothers grew older, they'd turned into such excellent fighters, they dubbed themselves with the title, and it had stuck.

They'd gone to war for Soleil too. Remus had found himself against one in the last battle. Twenty years older and with a suit of armor, a sword, and a warhorse that would have made a Palace Knight jealous, he'd fought with such fury, one would have thought Remus had done something personal to him.

He still remembered how he'd only remained aware of his surroundings enough to ensure nobody took a swing at his back. The rest of his attention had been focused on parrying, attacking, controlling his horse, blocking with his shield, and looking for an opening as they fought.

They passed a hog's pen and a stable. The enormous home had a slanted timber roof, and the upstairs was wood. The bottom was stone, and light glowed from the windows set at regular intervals. Overhead, the moon was nearly full, and Remus tried to relax his body. The last thing he wanted was for Sébastien to walk into the den of the enemy while alone.

Untrimmed bushes were on either side of the door. Paltua whispered something and took off in a silent run to reach the opposite side.

In the lower windows, he could see light, and when they passed one, he caught a glimpse of a man at a table as he held a pipe to his mouth and read a book. Both feet were propped up on the table, and smoke curled above his head.

"Hide behind the bushes," whispered the Prince.

Remus crouched and tried to be small, not an easy feat. Fortunately, the bushes were large. Sébastien knocked.