“Didn’t the commander tell you?” How could these soldiers blindly follow Dexter without having any information at all? Did he demand total and complete loyalty and obedience? Or had he earned it?

“He did not tell us what we are doing here,” Gytha replied. Instead of eating, the warrior woman kept her focus on Dexter.

Reid took a bite of her stew, surprised at the tastiness. “How can you be prepared for an attack if you don’t know who it’s coming from?” She couldn’t imagine trying to protect the prince when he didn’t give any details about their location or who he planned to meet with.

“I’m always prepared,” Gytha answered with a huff.

The two female soldiers chuckled, but they didn’t say anything.

The door squeaked as it opened. A large man entered, his dark skin weathered from the sun. He made a beeline for Dexter, taking the seat across from him.

Since it was the afternoon, the tavern only had a handful of people in it. Reid took another bite of her stew, watching the commander greet the man.

After shaking hands, Dexter pulled out a piece of paper and slid it across the table. “Is this your ship?” the prince asked.

“Aye.”

“I have questions for you.” Dexter withdrew a money bag, pushing it across the table. Then he placed a well-worn leather book in front of himself. Tapping the cover, he said, “This is your ship’s log. What were you doing in the kingdom of Melenia?”

Reid had never heard of such a place before.

The sailor warily eyed the book. “Trading.”

“Trading what?”

“I sold jewelry in exchange for leather armor, spices, and money.”

“Jewelry from where?”

“From Bridger,” the sailor replied. “Mostly silver necklaces, bracelets, and trinkets. The women over there love that stuff.”

“Why leather armor?”

“There are rumors of a war.”

Dexter leaned back, observing the man. “Where did you hear that?”

The sailor shrugged. “A friend of mine in Bridger was commissioned to make a thousand swords. In one day, I sold all the leather armor I acquired in Melenia to the citizens of Bridger.”

Dexter scratched his chin just below his ear. “How often do you sail to Melenia?”

“Once every two to three months. Takes about a fortnight to get there.”

“What about other counties here in Marsden?” Dexter asked. “Do you trade with any of them?”

The sailor’s face paled.

Dexter tossed him a second bag of money. “You won’t be in trouble either way,” he said. “All I seek is the truth.”

“I only trade with counties in northern Marsden. Never Axian.”

“Then why are you in Axian?” Dexter asked, drumming his fingers on the ship’s log.