Free A Dance of Dragons: Series Starter Bundle by Kaitlyn Davis Page B

around the docks, though no one seems
to take it too seriously, as there haven't been pirates in these
waters since Whyl the Conqueror united the lands.
    In other news…
    Rhen paused, chewing on his bottom lip,
ignoring the hair that had fallen over his eyes.
    Nothing new, and yet, the word was
spreading. Weeks ago while visiting the royal shipyard, Rhen had
overheard sailors talking about spotting unflagged ships—ships that
belonged to no kingdom and no king. Later that day he returned,
looking distinctly less royal, and weeded out more information.
Unidentified ships had been spotted along the northwest shore of
the kingdom, a shore almost completely uninhabited due to the miles
upon miles of steep cliffs blocking access to the ocean.
    But there were only two kingdoms left in
this world, the Kingdom of Whylkin and their neighboring Kingdom of
Ourthuro. Secret ships could only mean one thing—the Ourthuri were
looking for something, something that hinted of war.
    Unless Rhen could stop it.
    He kept reading.
    In other news, the game has been lacking of
late. The butchers have been complaining that no meat is being
brought into the city, that they are losing their income. Unless
the oldworlders are hoarding animals in their little wooden huts,
someone else is taking them or something else is killing them. I
probably shouldn’t be telling you this, as it will only spur you
on, but I find it my duty as a friend to keep your trust—even if
you end up killed.
    Perhaps my last piece of information will
dissuade you from that course of action though. Unexplained deaths
have been a recent phenomenon—bodies found with their throats slit,
suicides we presume—though gossips have been labeling them as
something far worse. I wouldn't have believed them, but Henry, a
knight in my father's guard, and his wife recently passed the same
way. And he was a strong fighter, an honorable man. He would not
have done it to himself or to her.
    So again, I would advise against chasing
down these mercenary, and currently quite imaginary, ships on your
own. Stay in Roninhythe and we can explore these mysterious deaths
together; a noble cause I assure you.
    You are a prince and someday you will have
to understand that. But until that day, I will do my best as a
friend to make sure it is something you do not forget.
    Rhen snorted—as if he could ever forget. No,
Roninhythe was not where he needed to be. Disappearing game sounded
like a good lead—perhaps the unflagged ships had dropped off
unspotted infiltrators. Cal had mentioned the oldworlders, which
meant Rhen's destination was the Northmore Forest—home of the
Arpapajo and another day's ride away.
    "What do you say we move a little faster?"
He asked. Ember's ears pricked at the sound of his voice and before
he had fully gripped the reins, her slow walk had turned into a
gallop.
    There were few things Rhen loved more than
the air whipping past his face as Ember raced through the
countryside. In that time, the two of them were one. Her eyes were
his eyes. Her legs his legs. Their minds were so connected that he
didn’t even need to speak to give her directions, she just
understood.
    Sometimes he would close his eyes and just
let the smell of the grass fill his senses. Or open them so wide
that tears leaked out the side from the wind. Heart thumping to the
beat of her feet, all other sounds faded away and every dark memory
seemed to disappear.
    They covered miles in what felt like
minutes, but the drowning sun betrayed the real time. Shadows
elongated and the air cooled until eventually, Rhen could barely
see a few feet before Ember's nose.
    "Alright, girl," he said sadly, wishing it
were not time to stop, "let's settle down for the night." He had
spotted a tree line ahead, just before the light disappeared, and
the last thing he wanted was to lead Ember straight into raised
roots or a wide trunk. There was no use risking injury.
    He slipped from the saddle and unhooked the
buckle under her