In Deeper Waters by F.T. Lukens (best business books of all time txt) 📗

Shay was the royal house’s most stalwart soldier. She’d followed Garrett into skirmishes and squalls, protected Tal as a child, and earned a seat at the royal table with her unerring bravery. To see her unsettled twisted Tal’s stomach even more. “There is something you should come see.” Her gaze cut to Tal and she stopped short, her eyes narrowing. “You should come as well, Your Highness.”

Garrett laughed. “Tally was just puking over the side. You think he should board a pitching ship? I don’t think so.”

Shay straightened and gripped the sword at her side. “Of course, Commander. In hindsight, he may be too sensitive for what we’ve found.”

That spiked Tal’s interest more than a piece of pristine gold. He shrugged off Garrett’s heavy arm and stepped forward. “I’m not sensitive. I’m a prince of Harth, same as Garrett, and I will decide what I see and what I don’t.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Shay said, bowing shortly again, her pink lips twisting up into a smile. “You know your limits. I apologize for questioning them.”

Garrett laughed. “Shay, such formality. It’s just Tally. You’ve known him since he was a squalling baby.”

“I believe he’s asked you not to call him that. Several times. Since we left port… yesterday.” Shay’s smile broke forth, wide and playful.

Tal frowned and brushed past them toward the plank between the ships. Other crewmen bustled around the deck and gave Tal a wide berth. They respected Garrett, as he’d been their commander for years, after having trained with most of them when he was a teenager. They didn’t know Tal and didn’t know the boundaries of familiarity. They looked at him, gauging his worth both aboard their ship and as a potential ruler. More than likely they’d heard the rumors, and though Tal was used to others being cautious around him, it still rubbed him the wrong way.

Sickly and spoiled. Young, untested, seasick, naïve, arrogant, magic. He’d heard it all since he stepped on the deck a day ago with Garrett at his side and Isa waving from the dock as they pulled away. Well, they could think those things. Tal would prove them wrong on the negatives. He’d prove them all wrong, even his siblings. And the last word on that list, the forbidden one, was for him and his family to know, no one else.

He stepped onto the plank and grabbed the rope that stretched from their main mast to the derelict’s. As he was about to step across, Shay grabbed his arm and halted him.

“I’ll cross first,” she said, voice low. “I promised the queen I’d protect you, and I can’t do that if you hurry off without me.” She stepped around him on the small plank, all lithe grace and swinging hips. “Follow, young prince.”

Tal scowled at the moniker but bit back a retort. They started to cross, and he squeezed his eyes shut when he glanced down and saw pieces of the wreckage pitching beneath them in the rough seas. Garrett’s hand on his shoulder wasn’t unwelcome then.

“Keep walking,” Garrett said, voice low in his ear. “Don’t look down. That’s it.”

Tal inched across and gladly dropped to the deck of the other ship, even though it lurched beneath his feet far more violently than Garrett’s warship. His earlier queasiness returned. Clenching his jaw, he resisted the urge to clap a hand over his mouth and instead swallowed several times to keep the nausea at bay. He didn’t want to give Garrett any more opportunities for teasing or any reason to send him back across.

With Garrett at his side, he followed Shay to the captain’s quarters, set at the stern beneath the quarterdeck. The glass of the windows had blown out, and bits crunched beneath Tal’s boots.

“Finally! Someone with authority.” Stepping into the captain’s quarters, Tal came face-to-face with a young man. “Well, not you,” he said, addressing Tal. “You.” He nodded to Garrett, standing over Tal’s shoulder. “You’re the commander? I demand you release me.”

Garrett stroked his ginger beard. “You were not wrong, Shay,” he said. “Definitely interesting.”

The boy tapped his foot and crossed his arms over his bare chest. He stood tall and broad shouldered, with reddish-brown hair that flopped over his forehead. Light coming in the broken window cast a kaleidoscope of colors on his pale face, illuminating the honey brown of his eyes and the strange patterned markings that ran the length of his torso. His trousers were too short on his long legs, stopping at his shins. He had thinly boned ankles and pale bare feet with knobby toes. An iron fetter, wrapped snugly around one ankle, was attached to a chain, which was secured to the floor.

“Are you done?” the young man asked, holding his arms out to the sides. Brazen in the face of Tal’s inspection. “As you can see, I’m not a threat.”

“We’ll be the judge of that,” Shay said, moving to block Tal from the young man’s sight. “What happened here?”

He flinched from her and hunched his shoulders near his ears. “What will you believe?”

“That’s not a promising start,” Garrett said. He nodded toward his sailors, who were gathered in the room. “Everyone out. Find him a shirt and boots.” Then he asked the boy, “Do you know where the key is?”

The prisoner shook his head. “The last I saw, it was with the captain.”

“And he’s where?” Garrett asked. The boy pressed his lips shut into a thin line, and Garrett nodded. “That’s what I thought. Well, you heard me,” he addressed the sailors milling about. “A shirt, boots, and an ax. We can at least cut him from the floor before this wreck goes under. Shay, you too. Tally, stay.”

Tal shuffled out of the way as the sailors left to follow Garrett’s commands. He leaned against a large desk in the corner, swallowing a comment about being addressed like a pet. He gripped the furniture as the ship continued to move unsteadily beneath them, taking on water and beginning a slow descent to