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Henri shook his head. “No, just drunk…and Antoine needs to close up.”
Devin quelled his annoyance. It was typical of Gaspard to go on a binge when he needed to concentrate his energy elsewhere. He clattered down the stairs and out the front door after Henri, feeling a chill as the night closed in around them. The sky was as clear and starry as midwinter, and Devin wished he’d brought his jacket. A spring peeper piped his bell-like solo from the edge of the fountain. Behind them a cabbie shouted anxiously for a fare, but they kept on going.
“Antoine sent for Gaspard’s father,” Henri confided as they hurried along.
“God,” Devin murmured. “I hope we get there before he does!”
At Antoine’s, candles burned on every table, though the sign by the front door said “closed.” Devin stopped just inside, realizing he’d never seen this room empty before. Its cozy warmth faded without the camaraderie of dozens of students and scholars clustered around the bar and sitting at the tables. The silence seemed jarring, bereft of the sound of laughter and the clink of glasses.
They found Gaspard on the floor under a corner table, a cut oozing blood across his right cheekbone. Antoine knelt beside him, a wet cloth in hand.
“How badly is he hurt?” Devin demanded.
The barman shrugged and stood up. “It’s nothing. The cut will heal without a scar.”
Devin leaned down to see for himself. Gaspard’s breathing was smooth and regular, his parted lips emitting an occasional snore.
“What happened?” he asked.
“I sent for his father,” Antoine replied. “I thought you’d gone home.”
“I went home for dinner but I had to come back to pack,” Devin answered. He had barely a month to spend in each province. He needed every moment of his summer holiday plus his entire Third Year to complete his project. He couldn’t have lingered a few days with his parents even if he had wanted to.
“Monsieur Forneaux came himself,” Antoine continued, “and Gaspard was not glad to see him.”
Gaspard’s father was René Forneaux, a high ranking Council member. He must have been very angry or very worried to have come himself to drag his son out of a bar in the middle of the night.
“Monsieur Forneaux tried to take him home,” Antoine continued. “Gaspard told him he hadn’t finished his exams. He said, when he turned them in, Isaac La Salle told him he need not return to the Académie next fall.”
Devin’s breath wheezed out in exasperation. The least Gaspard could have done was to finish his exam and not leave it half completed. The implication was that he didn’t care if he was ruining his chances at the Académie.
“This is not true?” Antoine asked.
“True enough, unfortunately,” Devin murmured. “And then, what happened?”
“Monsieur Forneaux said he would hire tutors for the summer so that Gaspard could be reinstated. Gaspard told him that all the tutors in the world wouldn’t help him graduate. He said if his father couldn’t accept that, he could go to hell. Then Monsieur Forneaux hit him.”
Devin winced, glancing at his friend on the floor. “He knocked him out cold?”
“No, no!” Antoine explained. “Gaspard passed out. He drank a whole bottle of wine after his father left.”
Devin rolled his eyes. “Can you help me carry him back to the dormitory, Henri?”
Antoine grabbed his sleeve and pointed. “That won’t be necessary. I think your father sent his carriage.”
“What?” Devin said in disbelief. He turned to see Marcus’s formidable bulk standing in the doorway.
“I’ll take care of this,” his bodyguard said, bending to pull Gaspard from under the table. “Go back and get your things and his. I’ll meet you at the bottom of the dormitory steps.”
“How did you hear about this?” Devin asked.
“Your father had me follow you. I called to you from outside the dormitory when you ran down the steps. You must not have heard me.”
So the protection his father had assigned him had started immediately, even before he’d left the city of Coreé. Devin found it odd.
Marcus paused, Gaspard slung over his shoulder like a sack of grain. “You’re certain Gaspard still wants to go?”
“We haven’t spoken since this morning…” Devin said, suddenly unsure he was doing the right thing.
Marcus made the decision for him. “We’ll take him with us. If he decides to return, your father will pay his passage back. Go now. You’ll be late.”
“What time is it?” Devin asked.
“Nearly five,” Marcus told him.
“The ship…”
“Will wait,” Marcus replied “You father’s seen to that.”
Devin smiled. This morning there seemed to be some advantages to being the Chancellor’s son.
Even though the sun had yet to rise, the docks in the harbor swarmed with activity. The Marie Lisette sat low in the water, her hold filled with Sorrento wine bound for the Northern Provinces. Marcus carried Gaspard aboard while Devin gathered their belongings from the carriage. He turned to see his father ride up on his dappled gray gelding.
“I decided to see you off,” Vincent Roché said, drawing his coat closer around him. “It’s a cold morning to be heading north, son. You’ll keep an eye on the weather?”
“Of course. But we have to visit the Northern Provinces first; they’ll be snowbound again by the first of September,” Devin said, even though he’d left his father their proposed itinerary.
“Just be careful and listen to Marcus. He’s got a good head on his shoulders.”
“I will,” Devin replied. “I hadn’t expected to see you this morning.”
“I have a small gift,” his father said, extending a package.
Devin laughed, pleased that he’d come. “I thought you’d already given me Marcus.”
“Marcus is going with you to ease my concerns.” He held the package out again. “Open it.”
Devin tore the brown paper away to reveal a cloak of russet suede.
“A storyteller’s cloak?” he gasped in surprise.
“You’ve always wanted one,” his father said, guiding his horse in closer as a wagon pulled by to unload. “You’ll need it if you’re going to collect all fifteen symbols.”
“Thank you,” Devin murmured. “I’d planned to purchase one in Arcadia but this will mean so much more.”
His father smiled. “It’s a peace offering. I didn’t want you to think that I agreed with the Council members who would have prevented this trip.” He glanced around them. “Where’s Gaspard?”
Devin sighed. “In his cabin. Marcus has already proven invaluable.” He told him briefly what had happened.
“I’d better let René know, Dev. You can’t go, and let him think his son has disappeared. I won’t mention that he didn’t leave under his own power. That’s between the two of you.”
They both glanced up at the same time and saw the Captain waiting at the top of the gangplank. “You’d better go, son, we’ve held your ship up long enough.”
Devin nodded, suddenly reluctant to leave. “Give Mother my love.”
“I didn’t tell her I was coming to see you off. She’s feeling quite fragile this morning. She would have begged you to stay.”
“It’s difficult to say ‘no’ to her.”
“I’m well aware of that!” his father said with a laugh, backing his horse away. “Have a good trip, Devin. Stay safe.”
“You too,” he called after him. He turned then, not wanting to watch him go, and walked toward the Marie Lisette.
The Captain welcomed Devin aboard himself, first bowing then shaking his hand.
“I’m sorry I’ve given you a late start,” Devin apologized, before he’d stepped off the gangplank.
Captain Torrance smiled, handing Devin the key to his cabin. “Don’t worry. Your father made it worth my while. I hope your friend will feel better by this evening. We put him in the cabin next to yours.”
Devin couldn’t shake the nagging doubt that, perhaps, he’d forced Gaspard to accompany him when he’d decided otherwise. Obviously, Gaspard had made the decision to walk away from any chance of passing his exams and staying on at the Académie. Perhaps, he’d changed his mind about visiting the provinces, too. Devin carried his knapsack down into the hold, passing by the cabin the Captain had assigned to him, and going into Gaspard’s instead.
His friend lay sound asleep, snoring loudly. His face had been washed, the cut doctored and bandaged. Someone had even strapped him in his bunk, a basin in easy reach on the table. The Northern channel of the Dantzig was notoriously rough when the snow melt had swelled its course. They weren’t in for an easy ride.
The door opened behind him and Devin stepped aside in the tiny space.
“Gaspard’s fine,” Marcus assured him. “Go up on deck and get some fresh air! When he starts to puke, he won’t want you hanging around. Let the man have a little privacy.”
Devin nodded, secretly glad to escape sickroom duty. He’d been planning this departure for months. But last night his father’s concern and Gaspard’s irresponsibility had dampened his enthusiasm. Here with the ship bobbing under his feet he felt the rush of excitement return. He stopped to drop his knapsack on the bunk in his own cabin and went back up on deck.
In the first flush of dawn, the lines were being untied and two tug boats were moving into place to tow them out into the main channel. The wind pulled at the edges of the furled sails and ruffled the water. Whitecaps topped the waves. He stood at the prow, with the wind in his hair, and laughed. This was what he’d waited for, Devin thought. This was the beginning of an adventure!
CHAPTER 3 (#ucebfb63d-3bdd-5ce5-bbf4-4b5902ae3025)
The Marie Lisette (#ucebfb63d-3bdd-5ce5-bbf4-4b5902ae3025)
The first mate tapped his shoulder.
“Move to the forecastle if you want to watch, monsieur. When we hoist the sails, these booms will start to swing. You could be knocked overboard before anyone has a chance to warn you.”
Devin nodded, embarrassed that he hadn’t known better. He’d had no experience with ships and he had sought out the first deck available. He found steps to another level, and stationed himself out of harm’s way on the upper deck with a good view of their course.
Devin had the forecastle to himself. The Marie Lisette only carried seven travelers besides himself, Marcus, and Gaspard. The others must have boarded last night, he thought, and were still lingering below deck, sleeping through their departure. Devin enjoyed the solitude, watching as the huge ship made its way out of the harbor. They might have been on the eastern coast of the empire. The Dantzig’s waters stretched beyond the horizon in three directions, dividing Llisé nearly in half. Six provinces bordered the eastern side of the Dantzig, separating them from its culture and learning as effectively as an ocean. The Rhine provided almost as great a barrier for the eight provinces to the west. Only Arcadia connected by land to Viénne, the capital province, but the mountain ranges between proved a formidable impediment even in the summer months.
To the south, a scattering of ships negotiated the Dantzig’s channels, their sails billowing in the strong east wind. To the north, the river lay cold and deserted. The Marie Lisette’s course into the channel carefully avoided ominous white water, where rock and debris threatened to snag ships unfamiliar with the river’s shallows.
The wind went right through Devin’s jacket, chilling him to the bone, and yet he wouldn’t have moved for the world. His father’s position had kept them close to Coreé in the past. There had been no seaside holidays for the Chancellor’s family even though summers in the capital were uncomfortably steamy and hot. Devin’s mother had felt her place lay at her husband’s side and she never allowed herself the luxury of a summer cottage on the coast of Tirolien or Cretois. Ironically, Devin had been named for just such a seaside resort where his parents had spent a month celebrating his father’s rise to power. Devin had been born nine months later; the sixth and final son of the new Chancellor Elite of Llisé.
Travel, a pleasure denied to Devin in the past, had today become a reality and he was relishing every minute of it. The smell of the harbor, hanging like a stinking cloud over the docks behind them, dissipated as they moved farther from the shore, giving way to the clean scent of wind over open water. Coreé faded to a distant smudge on the horizon once the sails unfurled. The ship leaped forward like a stallion, hurtling through the waves. The stinging force of the wind brought tears to Devin’s eyes and he turned his back to wipe them, startled to find someone standing behind him.
A tall middle-aged man held out his hand. “I’m Henri LeBeau, Department of Sciences. I work with your brother.”
Devin nodded. The man looked familiar. Perhaps, he’d seen him at the Académie. Although, much to Andre’s disappointment, he had no classes in that department.
“Of course,” he said, extending his own hand. “I’m sure André has mentioned your name.”
“How long have you been out here?” Henri asked, covering Devin’s hand with both of his. “You’re freezing.”
It was an overly familiar gesture and Devin extricated his hand, shoving it into the warmth of his pocket instead. “It’s the wind,” he murmured, turning back to the view ahead. “But I can’t tear myself away long enough to go down to my cabin.”
“I understand the fascination,” Henri replied. “Unfortunately, I’m too late to see the sun rise over the water.”
Devin resisted the urge to point out the sun had risen hours ago. To his right, he saw Marcus lounging casually against the rail. He wondered when he’d come up on deck.
“I’m traveling for a few months,” Henri continued. “I have a small summer home in Arcadia but I plan to stay a month in Ombria and another in Tirolien on the way.”
That was odd. Devin’s plans took him along the same route.
“And where are you headed?” Henri asked.
Devin shrugged, affecting a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “Well, after all, this is my Third Year. My friends and I plan to tour all fifteen provinces and still make it back before classes begin next September.”
Henri laughed. “An ambitious undertaking! So, you’re not alone?”
“No,” Devin replied, cocking his head at Marcus. “There are three of us.”
Henri’s eyes met Marcus’s and then slid off. “I see. Well, I’m sure you’ll have a good time. Do you plan to stop in Treves?”
Arcadia’s Master Bard lived in Treves. Of course, they’d stop there but Devin didn’t like where this questioning seemed to be headed. He shook his head. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
“I could show you the sights. The healing springs are world famous.”
“I haven’t any complaints,” Devin murmured. “Perhaps, when I’m your age, I’ll pay them a visit.” The remark was rude and pointed but his companion refused to be offended.
“The east side of the city is a warren of caves and hot springs. Most are still in their natural state, dripping with ferns and cascading waterfalls. It’s worth seeing. Why don’t we set a date?”
Devin gave an exaggerated shiver. “You know, I think I will go below decks. I’m really chilled. It’s nice to have met you.”
But their parting wasn’t so easily accomplished. “I’ll come with you,” Henri offered, tagging along as though they were the best of friends. “Would you like to stop in the galley for coffee or chocolate? Something hot would warm you.”
“Not right now,” Devin replied, glad to see Marcus following them closely down the steps. “I didn’t sleep at all last night. Perhaps I’ll nap awhile and go back up on deck later.”
“I’ll save a chair for you at dinner, then,” Henri offered, giving Devin’s shoulder a proprietary pat. “Enjoy your rest.”
Devin ducked inside his cabin, fuming as he saw Henri jotting the cabin number down on a piece of paper from his pocket. The man was almost enough to make him change his itinerary. A moment later, Marcus knocked and Devin let him in, half expecting to see Henri lurking behind him but the passageway was blessedly empty.
Marcus closed the door and leaned against it.
“Henri LeBeau,” he said. “Councilman, Alexander LeBeau’s oldest son. His father is a constant thorn in your father’s side, and he is also one of the Council members who threatened to file a complaint about your trip.”
