Elshield diverted the mount down a ramp that took them to the level of the quay; Sooth elected to look down upon the scene from atop the wall. Still dazed from what had happened during the ride, Prim was only vaguely conscious of many orders being given and a lot of boat-related activity as the vessel carrying the barbarian king drew near and swung about sideways and was coaxed toward the moorage.

She had never seen a king—barbarian or otherwise—before. Curiosity lifted her out of her stupor. Her gaze traveled up and down the length of the boat’s deck looking for a royal entourage in all its finery. But all she saw was a solitary man in scruffy traveling clothes, wrists and ankles hobbled with shackles. His hair and beard were matted, and his face masked, with dried blood. A noose had been thrown around his neck like a leash, and the end of the rope was held by the largest and grimmest Beedle she had yet seen.

Elshield swung down out of the saddle and saw to it that the mount’s reins were entrusted to a Beedle. He grunted out a command in the Beedle’s crude language, throwing a look up at Prim. Clearly the mount was going nowhere. Prim too dismounted.

A wooden gangplank had been dropped into place between the ship and the quay. The big Beedle crossed over it, the shackled man helplessly stumbling along in his wake.

Elshield took the end of the rope and looked at the prisoner. “Welcome, Your Royal Highness,” he said to the barbarian king.

The king said nothing, for he had recognized Prim. And she had recognized him.

It was Brindle.

She was a princess, apparently.

“You lied to me,” Prim said. “My whole life  . . .”

“You must fight your way out now,” Brindle said.

“How are we to do any such thing? Look about you!”

“You must do it alone,” Brindle corrected her, raising his hands to show the chains. “You will find it within yourself,” he insisted. “Better sooner than later.”

“What is that supposed to mean!?”

“I lied to you because I love you,” Brindle said. And then, taking advantage of some slack in the rope, he stepped into the gap between the quay and the boat and plunged straight down into the First Shiver.

Elshield’s mind-reading ability let him down in this case, for he was holding the end of the rope only loosely, more as a ceremonial gesture than anything else, and it popped loose from his hand. The entire length of it buzzed over the edge of the quay and disappeared into the water in a manner suggesting that the king on the other end of it had been pulled straight to the bottom by the weight of his chains.

In the astonished silence that followed, Prim lunged forward, headed for the point where the rope had last been seen. “Brindle!” she called.

“No!” Elshield commanded.