Alric shifted his feet. It was an uncomfortably hot afternoon, and he didn't like waiting. Far better to be in a tavern with a cool glass of ale.
"They're almost ready," said Alstan. "They're tying off the ship now."
It was true, the Mercerian vessel had just sailed up, and even as he spoke, the crew was leaping onto the dock to secure the vessel with ropes.
"How long, do you think, before they come ashore?" asked Alric.
"I don't suppose it'll be long," observed Alstan. Then added, "Now that's a surprise."
Alric tried to follow his elder brother's gaze but failed to discover his observation. "What is?" he said, with some irritation.
"It seems the envoy is of Royal Blood after all."
"How can you tell?"
"Their Royal Standard is flying, see, on the mainmast?"
Alric followed his broth
