The Call of the Crown (Book 1) Read Free Page A

it.”
    Gialyn pulled the last crate of beets from the cart as Gobin led Pepa to the makeshift stable, still laughing to himself as he walked.
    “Where do you want this?” Gialyn asked his father.
    “It can go under the table for now. Keep it in the shade.”
    Daric had reserved his space in the tent. That, apparently, wasn’t easy; newcomers were not often welcomed. Gialyn watched as his father placed his produce into small punnets and then arranged neatly across the top of the table. The proud look in his eye lasted until he noticed his neighbour’s stall. Mrs. Caulthan’s vegetables were easily twice the size and greener. “Oh well, it is our first season.” He gave Mrs. Caulthan a friendly nod.
    “Can I go now?” Gialyn asked.
    At the same time, Theo Tanner bellowed at Daric, “Good day, Mr. Re’adh.”
    Theo Tanner was a large man—very large. He was nearly as round as he was tall. He was the emissary for Albergeddy, which meant responsibility for running the mine and collecting taxes. His broad grin split his round face and caused even more chins to appear. The big man was in his usual garb. Not even this heat would stop him from wearing his coat of office. His thinning grey-brown hair plastered to his forehead and droplets of sweat trickled from his temples. Gialyn thought he looked ridiculous. None of the noblemen coming and going through the streets of Bailryn—the kingdom’s capital—would wear a coat like that in this weather. The man must be a fool.
    “Afternoon to you, Mr . Tanner.” Daric bowed.
    “I see you made it,” Theo said. “A bit late, but never mind that. Nothing much has started yet.”
    Daric looked surprised; Theo was never this talkative. Indeed, Gialyn couldn’t remember the last time the emissary had spoken to any of them, apart from once when he welcomed his mother to the town granary.
    The fat man continued. “Did you know my daughter is in the archery tourney this year?”
    Theo picked up one of Daric’s beets, sniffed at it, gave it a squeeze, and put it back. He didn’t look impressed.
    “Yes,” Daric said, putting the beet back into the correct punnet. “Quite a fuss, so I hear.”
    “ Really!” Theo scowled over the word. “Who is making a fuss?” He folded his arms, pulled his shoulders back, and stared defiantly at Daric.
    “Did you think there wouldn’t be, Mr . Tanner? First time a girl has ever entered for the archery prize.” Daric folded his arms, too, and stared right back.
    Gialyn backed off a pace, looking between the two, wondering who would answer first. He knew it wouldn’t be his father; he had that look in his eyes. The look he’d seen him give a thousand times. Whether it was a drunkard at the palace gates or a disobedient sergeant, the look was always the same. You may as well argue at a stone once Daric Re’adh’s mind was set.
    Finally, Theo broke. “Yes, I suppose you are right . A little animosity is to be expected, especially when she wins.” He picked up another of Daric’s beets. “Did you warm the soil before you planted these?”
    “Sorry, what? Warm the soil?” Daric looked puzzled.
    “Early beets, Daric,” Theo said in a lecturing tone. “You must warm the soil; lay some hay down to drag out the last of the frost. Not saying they won’t grow without, but they’ll be more like Mrs. Caulthan’s if you do.” Theo shot a smile and a bow over to Daric’s neighbour.
    “Oh, I will remember for next time.” Daric snatched the beet from Theo’s hand and placed it gently back in its punnet.
    “Anyway, Daric, there is another reason I’m here. Did you know a royal messenger is in the town?” Theo said, clasping his lapel and rocking back and forth on his heels. With chin raised, the fat man smiled as if there were something important to it and only he knew the answer.
    Daric cringed; a flash of anxiety filled his eyes. “Why? What has happened? Are we at war?”
    “What? No, no, no, nothing of the sort, nothing for