Dragon Prince 02 - The Star Scroll Read Free

by summer sun during the annual harvest. Lleyn’s squires often enjoyed the treat of a day’s sail in the pearl coves—but not Pol. The first time he’d taken a look at those tiny, flat-bottomed boats bobbing gently at their moorings, he’d been most humiliatingly sick.
    In one corner of the room a pair of merchants haggled pleasantly over their meal, swatches of silk on the table between them. A young man wooed a pretty girl nearby, their lunch forgotten as he whispered in her ear and sent her into gales of laughter. Near the door sat five soldiers, four men and a middle-aged woman, all dressed in light harness but without swords, according to the law here. They wore the solid red tunics and the white candle badge of Prince Velden of Grib.
    “Meath?” Pol asked softly. “What are they doing at Graypearl?”
    “Who?” he glanced around. “Oh, them. The Gribain ambassador got in this morning. Something about arranging silk trade.”
    “But there’s been a treaty forever that says all silk goes through Radzyn.”
    “Well, they can try to convince Lleyn, can’t they? But I don’t think they’ll get anywhere. I wouldn’t be too worried for your uncle’s revenues—or your own,” he finished teasingly.
    Pol bristled. “Dorval can do as it likes with its silks—”
    “As long as the Desert sees the profits?” Meath laughed, then held up a placating hand as blue-green eyes began to flash. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”
    “I was talking about treaties and the law, not profits,” Pol said sternly.
    “I think you’ll find such things are flexible when it comes to making money.”
    “Not since my father’s been High Prince,” he stated. “The law is the law, and he sees to it that laws are obeyed.”
    “Well, it’s all beyond a simple Sunrunner like me, your grace,” Meath said, barely controlling another smile.
    Giamo arrived with a tray, and set before them two huge plates of food, a tankard of ale for Meath, and a Fironese crystal goblet filled with a clear, pale pink liquid that frothed gently with golden bubbles. Pol took a sip under his host’s watchful eye, and smiled in delight. “Wonderful! What is it?”
    “My own brewing,” Giamo answered, pleased. “The most delicate and refined of ciders, barely blushing.”
    “It tastes just like spring itself,” Pol said. “And I’m honored by the goblet it’s served in.”
    “The honor is my wife’s,” Giamo replied with a bow. “It’s not every woman can say that so important a lord has eaten at her table and sipped from her most treasured possession.”
    “If she’s not too busy, then perhaps I can visit her in the kitchen and thank her.”
    “After you’ve finished your meal in peace,” Giamo grinned. “My good wife Willa could talk the tail off a dragon.”
    Sunrunner and prince dug into the food. The healthy appetites of a growing boy and a large, active man required seconds; Meath requested a third piling of meat and flaky bread, and Pol was sincerely sorry that he was too full to do likewise. He lingered over a dish of berries in honey glaze and sipped at his cider, wondering if he might persuade Giamo to part with a bottle as a gift for his mother, who adored fine wines.
    The pearl-fishers had gone, replaced by a trio of shipwrights come to enjoy a few tankards of ale. The young man and the girl were now being teased by the two silk merchants; Pol grinned to himself as the couple blushed. In a few years that would be him over there, enjoying the company of a charming lady. But he was in no hurry.
    Replete at last, Meath leaned back with tankard in hand, ready for conversation again. “You didn’t say if there was anything in the shops you liked well enough to buy.”
    “Well . . . the green silk slippers were pretty, and that comb of pearl shell. But Prince Chadric told me that a man should never buy a gift for a lady unless he takes one look at it and can see her wearing it or using it.”
    The Sunrunner laughed. “An