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

digging into Tal’s shoulder, the brim of his hat hitting the back of Tal’s head.

“Good-bye, Dara. Thank you.”

Tal clucked his tongue and the horse jerked forward. Athlen scrambled and grabbed Tal around the shoulders, his hands splayed over Tal’s chest.

Tal stifled a laugh and turned his attention to the road in front of them. They had several days’ journey ahead. He had a merman who had never left the sight of the sea and who had a bounty on his head, a forbidden magic under his skin, a family in mourning, a snake in his household, and a kingdom on the brink of war.

He had more to think about than the puffs of breath skirting across the skin of his neck, and the lean body pressed to his back.

Tal kept the mare at a brisk pace but slowed every hour or so to give her a break, allowing her to clop leisurely down the packed dirt of the road. The landscape spread out in front of them, a picture of spring. Vibrant green grass poked through the thawed soil in lush thatches, and carpets of wildflowers decorated the hills, the petals basking and open to the sun. Small animals scampered in the brush along the road—squirrels and groundhogs and one nosy fox that followed them for a few miles, until it found something more interesting than two quiet boys.

They encountered a few other travelers—lone riders on horses or families walking to and from villages that dotted the landscape, visiting friends and family on the bright day. They passed a trader with a laden cart and a stubborn donkey and turned down the offer of a trade for their mare.

With each interaction Tal kept his head down and spoke softly but firmly to affect the airs of a man with a brusque manner who was in a hurry, which he was. Athlen didn’t speak much at all, only to the girls of the families, who giggled at the color of his hair and the brightness of his eyes, and to politely frown at the trader, who tried to sell him a pair of boots. But his grip on Tal eased and he perked up, taking in the scenery as much as Tal was.

They rode for the entire day, eating from Dara’s bundle in the saddle, and passing the canteen between them when needed. When the sky darkened, Tal led the mare off the road to a small grove of trees.

“We’ll stop here for the night.”

Athlen shifted behind him. “I don’t think I can get down,” he confessed after a moment. “How should I do it?”

Tal turned slightly and held out his arm. “Hold on and swing your leg over.”

Swallowing, Athlen gripped Tal’s forearm and, with the grace of a cow, slid off and fell to the grass.

Tal burst out with a laugh.

Athlen hobbled to standing and wobbled into the grove. “I’m glad I could be your entertainment for the evening,” he said as he disappeared.

Tal disembarked and took care of the mare, tying her to one of the nearby trees in a spot with plenty of clover for her to eat. He removed her saddle and blanket and took one of the cloths Shay had provided to wipe her down.

After Athlen returned, Tal made camp while Athlen watched, tilting his head. Around a small fire they shared rations as the night birds hooted and the crickets chirped; then they lazed peacefully.

“Tell me about them,” Athlen said, hands laced behind his head, bare feet flexing as he stared up into the branches above them. “Your brothers and sisters. I’d like to know them before I meet them.”

Tal sat cross-legged by their fledgling fire, leaning against the trunk of one of the trees. He tossed a twig into the flames. “You met my brother Garrett.”

“Tall fellow with the red beard and the squinty eyes. He didn’t like me much.”

“He wasn’t quite sure what to make of you,” Tal said. “It was strange to see him unsure.”

Athlen lifted his chin. “You understood me.”

“You tricked me.”

Athlen laughed. He held up his thumb and forefinger, squeezing them close. “A little.”

“I thought you threw yourself off the boat because of the horrors you’d been through on that ship.”

Athlen ducked his head, the fire casting shadows on his face, his copper hair glinting with the flickers of the flames. “I’d say I’m sorry, but that wouldn’t be true. But yes, I met Garrett.”

Tal shook his head at the unsubtle change back to the subject. “My older sister, Isa, is the crown princess. She’s going to rule like my mother. She’s smart and tactical. Regal. She would like you.”

“Why?”

As shrewd as Isa was as the future queen, she had a love for stories about romance and kissing and damsels. Maybe it was because she couldn’t afford to be a woman in distress, swept off her feet by circumstance and a charismatic stranger. Isa would sigh as she read, and sometimes she would entertain them all with retellings. Tal had thought romance absurd. How did the princess or the servant or the warrior always end up swooning in a lover’s arms? How did the right moment always find them between battles or after escape or right as the sun set? It all seemed ridiculous and farfetched and contrived. But he understood now—that moment of awakening, the heady rush of realization, and the beautiful ridiculousness of it.

Tal blushed. “Because I do.”

Athlen’s expression melted into a smile. “She loves you.”

“Yes,” Tal said. “I think she was upset at first when she found out she had a third brother, but she was always kind to me, and when she wasn’t busy, she was fun to be around. She was occupied a lot, though, what with lessons and training to become queen.”

“She must be lonely.”

Tal shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know her well. Garrett does. Kest, my other brother, he might too.”

“He’s the bird.”

Tal half smiled. “Yes, the bird.” Since he’d seen Shay, Kest had centered in Tal’s thoughts. He was prone to melancholy,