The Azure Bottle: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

    Thyra waited outside the door. Arne stood beside her. His posture was rigid and breaths were quick and shallow. A guard stared at them, emotionless. They were here, at the council of the lords, waiting for the lords to fully gather so they could be let in. Thyra twitched then straightened, then slouched again, kicking at the red velvet carpet beneath her slipper-ed feet.

    She’d never seen a place so magnificent. The floor was made of marble, as were the pillars that supported the ceiling over twenty feet above her. The walls were made mostly of stone, but golden trim did line the windows and the tables set against the walls.

    Sunlight poured in through the stained glass windows and reflected off the marble floors. The best way Thrya could think of to describe it was flowers made of light, growing over all before them in a brilliant array of beauty.

    She felt under dressed in this place with her black dress on. When even the walls were dressed in such gaiety, she felt pressed with more a reason than ever to be ashamed. She was a raven in a flock of songbirds, out of place, without belonging.

    She toyed with the hem of her long sleeve as she cast a sidelong glance at Arne, who still stood at a rigid parade stance. She sighed and let her eyes waft back over the room, mostly just to see if the guard was still watching them. His gaze was turned down the hall, but he quickly looked back. A wistful look that had been in his eyes a moment before vanished like a puff of cloud.

    A squire, no older than thirteen, stepped out into the hallway, his hands folded in front of him.“The lords are assembled and will see you now.” the boy said with a quick bow.

    Arne nodded and the boy hastily turned, nearly tripping over his robe, and led the way into the council of the lords. If Thyra had felt a raven among songbirds before, she now felt like a weed in a bed of roses.

    The lords were dressed like peacocks. With elaborate trim and plums sticking from their hats, they had quite a display. Three or four of the lords pulled off the look quite well, while others looked more like jesters than nobility. Some of these roses had tried to adopt too many colors making them look odd. Still, there was no question that Thyra didn’t and couldn’t belong here.

    The king, a young man in his early twenties, was leaning against one of the armrests of his throne, his feet resting on the other. He wasn’t dressed in any elaborate garb, there was no crown on his brow, Thyra could simply recognize him from his place at the table; nothing else gave rise to a belief that he was in fact the king. He was twiddling a feather pen in his fingers as the two entered. A tall man in a full suit of armor stood to his right. The two bowed as they approached him, then quickly rose.

    The king didn’t sit up or even do more than glance at Arne, but his eyebrows raised as Thyra entered. Most of Arne’s meetings with him lately had been updates of trade and such. Things that usually would have felt more important to a king who was fighting a war. Thyra hadn’t ever been here before. Not even the king seemed to question that she didn’t belong here.

    Head lowered and eyes searching the ground, she kicked at the marble floor. Arne cast her a sidelong glance, but she ignored him.

    “Captain Arne, what is this about?” one of the lords asked.

    So he hadn't told them yet, Thyra realized. It made sense though. This information was of enormous importance, why would he risk it falling into the wrong hands? Arne’s chest extended as he took an abnormally large breath. The king’s gaze was still on Thyra, as if he hadn’t even heard the conversation beginning.

    “The map that Captain Erik discovered three and half years ago has been found.”

    Thyra’s ears pricked up. “Discovered” what did that mean? Many of the lords sat bolt upright in their seats. Even the king stopped twiddling with the pen and straightened a little, “Thyra found it and I have confirmed it is the same.” A few eyes wafted over to Thyra.

    “If it is as you say,” one of the lords, one Thyra knew as Lord Conrad, began, “then show us this map.” Arne reached into his weathered cloak and pulled out the slip of paper. Many eyes bulged and one or two of the lords gasped. The king sat up and set the pen on the table as Arne slid to paper over to him. The king snatched up the paper, looking it over with his mouth agape. He turned to Thyra, stunned.
   
    “How- where did you find this!?” His hands shook as he held the piece of worn paper. The last thing Thyra wanted to do was explain to the council of lords the depth of her pain and depression. She kept her mouth closed. Arne pressed his booted foot against the top of Thyra’s slippered one.

    She yelped slightly. Glaring, she turned to him. He gestured with his eyes to the king. Thyra sighed and looked at the king then hung her head again.

    “I found it just beyond the shore two days ago, your majesty.” Her hands trembled as did her voice. She had longed to be here, now she wished she could simply hide!

    
    “How did you find it just beyond the shore two days ago? As I recall it, it was raining that day. Unless I am mistaken.”

    Thyra shook her head. “No sir, you are not mistaken.” She gulped, unwilling to say more. The king seemed to doubt her claim.

    “If you'd prefer I can question you later? Without the lord's presence, perhaps?”

    Thyra gritted her teeth. She didn’t want to explain to him at all, but at least it would just be him and Arne, not a whole council. Somewhat reluctantly she nodded her agreement.

    A protest arose from the lords. The king raised a hand, instantly hushing them. He turned his attention back to Arne, who was running a hand through the tangles in his beard.

    “Captain, I not will question your word that it is the same map, but I need to know when you can leave to follow it?” The king leaned forward, both his hands on the table. Arne winced. This was what he’d been afraid of, being asked to go back to follow this map to its source.
    
    Thyra saw her chance and didn’t hesitate.

    “Your highness.” The king shot his gaze back to her, casting a quick, sharp glare her way. Thyra didn’t stop. “Send me to follow the map, not Arne. He’s already done it once and has no will to do it again. This was my father’s mission, so please, in his absence, give it now to his daughter.”

    The king considered her a moment before leaning back into his throne. “Have you ever even sailed?”

    Thyra bit her lip, then shook her head.

    “Then what makes you think you could even successfully captain a ship?”

    Thyra winced. Any argument she might have had died on her tongue. She’d hoped someone could coach her, show her the ropes, but the king had a valid point. Every sailor he’d have would be far more qualified to lead than she was.

    “You are not ready to captain a ship. Besides, you are a woman. Wouldn’t you prefer a more…domestic job?”

    Thyra could feel her face going red. Thyra longed to give the king a tongue lashing. She gritted her teeth and managed to hold herself back.

    “I may not be ready to captain a ship, but I am ready to learn, your majesty. The only job I desire is to travel the sea, same as my father, not anything domestic." She emphasized the word. Not intentionally, the word had slid from her tongue. Arne gave her a withering glance, but she ignored him.

    “Learning is not the same as doing, and we need a fleet out on the ocean now. Arne, how soon can you leave? Unless you do not wish to go as Captain Erik’s daughter has said.” the king asked. Arne and Thyra winced in sync and turned their gaze to tiles beneath them.

    “No, I’ll go, your highness, as soon as a fleet and crew can be found and prepared.” Arne said at length.

    “Good, I’ll assign your crew myself.” The king flashed a glance over at Thyra– it wasn’t friendly. Her heart fell. Would she never be given the chance to become a sailor?

    The king pushed himself from his throne, rising to his feet. “Please, follow me, you two, and we can discuss how it was you came by this treasure.”

    Grumbling rearrouse from the lords and the king didn’t bother to shush them this time.

    Thrya and Arne followed quickly behind his grace into a separate chamber that branched off from the council room. Each footfall felt like torture and watching each tile slip away behind her was worse.

    You have to explain, she urged herself, he is your king. It didn’t make her path ahead any easier, especially when the door closed behind them, and she was locked in a room with Arne and the king.

    She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t an interrogation but that was exactly what it felt like. Taking a deep breath, Thyra awaited the king’s command to begin. It came far too soon for her liking. When he nodded his head in her direction and leaned back against the nearest wall, she knew she had to tell.

    “I was walking by the sea, your grace, when I saw the bottle bobbing in the harbor.” she really hoped she could leave detail out of this, but Thyra doubted that was going to be a possibility.

    “Why were you by the sea in a storm? Why weren’t you safely at home?”

    She took a deep breath and steadied herself. “Because I have no home, not since my father’s was…” She looked away hoping she could hide the tears that were welling up in her eyes.

    “You have been adopted by Arne. Do you not live in his house?”

    “Yes, but it is not my home, your highness.”
    
    The king was silent for a moment. “Why would you venture in the harbor, into the sea itself, when it was pouring?” His voice was hushed.

    “I saw the bottle and didn’t care about…possible consequences. Arne found me and managed to pull me from the waves.” Thyra cast a sideways glance at the king. His eyes were filled with pity. She didn’t want it and wished it would go away.

    “I will not question you further,” proclaimed the king, “Arne, I will have your convoy ready by the end of the week, and this time I will travel with you.”

    Thank you for reading Chapter 3 of The Azure Bottle. Thank you also to my Alpha Readers and Beta Readers! I know I say this every week, but you guys really are incredible, and I'm so blessed to have your help! And now at last the test to see how many people read to the end. This will only apply to you if you're on my email list. Send me an email that says #readtotheend, and I'll send you a story snippet.        Thank you all for joining me on this writing journey! If you would like to join my email list, then subscribe. I send out a email to all new subscribers, just let me know on there if you would like to join. See you next week!