The Still

Chapter 11

I woke to a cool compress on my forehead, and forced open my swollen eyes.

Elryc, framed against sunlit canvas, grinned down at me. “You look a fright.”

I blinked, tried to orient myself. “Where …”

“In the wagon.” As I frowned he added, “Hester’s thrown up a tarp. It makes the cart into a tent.” He looked small, in a worn peasant shirt.

“Hester.” Scratching an itch, I shuddered, recalled the horror of the night. “How did you escape? I know you weren’t in the wagon.”

He smirked. “Turned me into a bird, she did, and I flew over the-”

I snatched at his arm, but he easily dodged me. Dizzy, I fell onto my back.

“Be careful, you’ll-”

“Aiyee!” I spun back onto my side, teeth clenched against the searing pain between my shoulder blades.

“Take care. Aside from the lashes, you’re covered with bites.”

I groaned, threw back the cover to inspect my body. From ankles to shoulders, I was a mass of tiny welts. The sight of them drove me to a fit of scratching and rubbing.

Elryc tried to restrain me. “Hester, he’s at it again!”

A muttered imprecation, and the weight of the cart shifted. The curtain parted. She came into view. “Stop, boy; scratching makes it worse.”

I groaned. “I can’t help it.” I rubbed vigorously at an inflamed bite. “Where’s Rustin?”

“There’s no Rustin. Just Elryc’s boy.” She moved a cask, sat at my side. “He’s tending the horses. It’s about time you woke.”

“Where are we?” I couldn’t see past the canvas, but from the heat I knew it was full day.

“Where we’ve been. By the side of the road.”

I tried to rise. “Move us! When night falls, they’ll swarm!”

“Bah. We had a peaceful night until you crazed brigands came whooping into camp and startled me out of a year I can’t afford.”

I looked about. “How did Willem get here? And who’s Verstad?”

“Who? Oh, those were the first names I could think of. When you attacked us-”

“Hester!”

“Well, you came shrieking in the night, with horses galloping. What was I to think? I had naught but my whip and a dagger good only for close labor, with Elryc to protect.” She threw an arm across his shoulders.

I squirmed, rubbing my knees together to soothe a bite. With the motion, my back smarted anew. I tried to peer over my shoulder. “How bad is it?”

Her tone was gruff. “I’ve seen worse. Try to lie still awhile, and you may not scar.”

I groaned. “Do you have some balm that would ease the itch?”

She considered. “Brandy. A rub with alcohol will help. You’ll smell like an alehouse, but that befits you.” She got laboriously to her feet, fished in a box. “Elryc, unstopper this.” She leaned over, threw back my sheet

My loincloth was gone. I clutched my private parts, trying to shield myself. “Get away!”

Hester snorted. “I diapered you. There’s no part of you I haven’t wiped oft enough. Besides, many’s the man with more to hide.” She upended the flask into a cloth.

Scarlet, I groped for the blanket, did my best to cover myself.

Elryc snickered.

I seized his wrist squeezed until he grimaced. “I almost died to find you, little brother. Laugh again and you’ll pay.”

Hester gave my hand a sharp cuff, pried loose my fingers. “Leave him be. It wasn’t he who ran about naked as a jay, chasing a screaming stableboy.”

I groaned in humiliation, clamped shut my eyes. I thought of throwing her bodily from the wagon, but her brandied cloth brought almost instant relief. Slowly, my fists began to unclench, and despite a resolve to hoard my anger, my muscles began to relax. Reluctantly I submitted myself to her ministrations.

I must have dozed anew. Later I awoke, hot, but much refreshed, to the bumping and jogging of the cart. Someone had left fresh clothes from my saddlebags; I dressed and emerged into the afternoon light.

Legs dangling over the tailgate, Genard sat munching an apple. “’Allo, m’lord.” He wore an outfit I recognized as the one he’d lent Elryc, when my brother was hidden. Behind him, their reins tied to the gate, paced Ebon and Santree.

Steadying himself on the siderail, Genard knocked loose the center pole holding the canvas. He twice folded the sagging tarpaulin, rolled it into a bundle.

The obstruction cleared, I gazed at the backs of the nurse and my brother, sitting together on the high box set. Elryc glanced back over his shoulder, nudged Hester.

She fixed me with a craggy eye. “Show him the apples, Genard. No time to stop for his lazy lordship’s breakfast, or we’ll never reach home.”

“I never asked-” I stopped. It was hopeless; nothing I could say would win Hester’s respect. Remembering the covers she’d snatched from my body, I blushed. Sulkily, I took a proffered apple. “Where’s Rustin?”

The stableboy shrugged. “Dunno, m’lord. Dame Hester made me go back an’ look. I told her to go herself, if she wanted to be stung to death. She said she’d take a stick to me.” He took a bite of his apple like the snap of a predator’s jaws. “Nasty old hag. No bugs, though, she was right about that. And no sign of Rustin.”

I’d feared he’d find Rustin a bloated corpse, crawling with feeding mites. Thank Lord of Nature that wasn’t so. On the other hand, Rust had deserted me and fled to the safety of Seawatch; so much for my loyal vassal. More than once, I’d spat out mouthfuls of grass and hay, when he’d lost his temper over some careless remark. I saw now the advantage of Eiber’s paid and full-time soldiery; at least they played at no hypocrisy of oaths and pretended allegiance.

I sighed, knowing Rustin wouldn’t leave me if he had a choice. Perhaps another evil of the woods had snared him. Morose, I clumped to the front of the wagon. “Where are we headed?”

“To Tarana’s cottage.”

“Where’s that?”

“Where I’ve always said. South of Cumber, outside Fort hamlet.”

“You never told-Hester, why are we on this imp-infested path, instead of the Cumber Trail?”

She nudged Elryc aside, knuckled the seat between us. As I squeezed between them she said, “A faster road, and shorter, that. But I like solitude.”

“For no better reason, you led us on a wild chase through savage-”

“Enough.” A warning glint, as of old. Like a boy, I hushed. She went on, “You may be brainless as a hare, but I at least think of Elryc. Cumber Trail is well traveled, especially now that Tantroth’s camped on the coast road. Would you that word went back to Margenthar that Elryc was seen with me?”

My brother’s lips formed, “Brainless as a hare.” Casually, so as not to attract Hester’s attention, I elbowed his ribs, hard enough to narrow his eyes in momentary pain.

I ducked, as we neared a low branch. “You could have bid him when folk approached. This road is a travesty.”

“When you’re King, repair it.”

“And it has evil. Hester, those insects attacked us.”

“They’re what you deserved, you dolt, camping off the roadbed!” She flicked her switch, as if to expend her ire on the horses.

“I don’t …” I hated to admit ignorance, but we’d blundered into disaster, and I needed to know. “Please, tell me.”

“Have you not heard of the Settling? Think you the land is reconciled to the House of Caledon, while trees still live that knew days before Varon?”

“But there are no folk to wield-”

“Untended, Powers go sour with native cunning. Your mother tamed the roadway, by great effort, while the Still waxed great within her. But think you one Lady could work her will on the whole countryside? The Power of Caled Forest sustains itself, and no one in his right mind not born to this place sets foot off the roadway!”

I swallowed. “No one told me. I mean, I heard about the Settling, yes, but those were just old tales, legends …”

“We’ll have a fool for a king.” Her face was set, and stony.

I kneaded my knuckles, wondering if ever I’d be free of boyhood. Though I knew myself a man, in her eyes I was nothing.

“Besides,” she added, “had you met me at Whiecliff as you promised, we’d have conferred about our path. As it was, I knew not whether to wait for you.”

“I couldn’t help it.” All my life, whatever I’d done, I had to ward off her rebukes. Oft, they were unstated, but made themselves felt in her tone or glance. My voice was sullen. “Uncle Mar tried to impound me in the castle, and then we barely got past Tantroth. Genard’s horse was shot from under him.”

“Yes, he told me how gallantly you rode back for him.” Suspicious, I searched her face, but found nothing. I changed the subject. “How far are we past the rock?”

“By horse, three hours at most. But the cart is slow.”

“And noticeable. We had but to ask, and it was remembered.” As was the spectacle of Hester herself. I thought better of saying so. “An old woman and a boy, they said. How did you get Elryc out from-”

“M’lord! Dame Hester!” Genard scrambled forward. “Someone follows!”

I jumped to my feet, almost fell from the wagon’s high seat. Could it be Rustin?

A tired nag stumbled over the small rise, doggedly followed our track. It could barely keep pace with the drays.

My heart fell. Rust had no horse; his Santree followed our wagon.

In the distance the rider, bare-chested, waved menacingly.

And he had two heads.

I chilled at this new evil wrought by the forest. Tighter I gripped my sword. If one head were lopped, would the demon die?

As if to reveal the answer, he rose in the saddle, shouted words lost to the wind, windmilled his arms.

I groped for my dagger, found none. Like most of my gear, it had been lost in the clearing. Thank Lord of Nature my crown was wrapped safe and in Ebon’s saddlebag, else I’d have had to return for it, even if it cost my life.

“Elryc, crawl beneath the canvas!” Hester’s rheumy old eyes peered. “I can’t see so far.” She hurried the horses. “Roddy, you hide too. Now that you’re fugitive from the Duke, you mustn’t be-”

“Cower under a blanket? Bah. Give me a weapon!”

She sighed. “Well, if you’re ever to reach manhood, I suppose you must defend yourself. There’s a half-sword in the green-painted trunk.”

I leaped for the blade.

“Don’t show the sword yet,” Hester growled. “Sharp steel sets a tone, and he may be a simple-”

“Yes, Nurse. Genard, untie Ebon and Santree. Mount one and lead the other. Ride ahead of the cart, to safety.”

“I’m not afraid, m’lord. Let me-”

“Who cares about you? I won’t have Ebon injured. Be quick!”

His eyes bleak, the boy jumped directly from the cart to Ebon’s saddle. He unhitched the reins, sped off, Santree in tow. I recalled Rustin’s good sword was still tied to Santree’s saddle, but there was no time to call Genard back. He reined in a hundred paces beyond the cart, turned to watch.

The wagon jounced down the road, Hester muttering grim imprecations to her horses.

From ahead, the gallop of hooves. I whirled to meet the new threat, saw Genard streak past on Ebon. “Lor’ Rustin! Hi aiyee! Lor’ Rustin!”

I squinted. Had Rustin been taken by the forest, transformed into some unspeakable two-headed-

My grip on the sword relaxed. Two riders. No wonder the nag could barely keep pace.

Their elderly horse looked ready to lay itself down. As our wagon rolled to a standstill, Rustin jumped from the saddle, led the nag and rider the remaining fifty paces.

Panting, Rustin drew near. I dropped the sword, leaped down, the better to berate him for his perfidy in abandoning us. I drew breath as he rushed close. “Where have you been, you ungrate-”

He enveloped me in his arms, squeezed the breath from me. “Thank Lord you’re safe! I was worried sick!” My feet dangled as he danced me across the roadway. The reopened cuts on my back stung like fireants.

“Ow! Put me down, you oaf!”

“Couldn’t you hear us shout? Why wouldn’t you stop?”

I managed to free myself, but not before he planted a kiss on my nape. Angrily, I wiped it off. My gaze fell again on his companion. “You!” I whirled back to Rust. “With all the misery we endure, you had to fetch that … harlot?”

His mouth tightened. “Speak softly, Roddy. She-”

Chela jumped down from the wheezing mare. “Call me that, who risked my life to join you and Lord Rustin? Prince or no, I’ll scratch-” She lunged at my eyes.

Rustin dived between us, held us apart. “Don’t. You’re both my friends. Chela, behave; he’s my liege lord! Ow! Roddy, why do you hit me?”

The whip cracked sharply over our heads, and brought us to our senses. Hester’s glare was enough to wilt a lily. She clambered down from her high perch. “Lunatics, the lot of you.”

Rustin looked abashed; Genard stared at Chela with undisguised admiration. Only the girl appeared unready to give up her quarrel. I moved casually to put Rust again between us.

“May I come out now?” Perspiring, Elryc poked his head from under the canvas. “They don’t sound very dangerous.” He giggled. “Except to you, Roddy.”

I filed it with my long list of reprisals. “Tie yourself in a sack and throw yourself in the river.” I eyed Rustin’s bare chest. “You lost your clothes too?”

He blushed. “Chela offered a chemise, but I couldn’t …” He peered into the distance, and his eyes lit. “Santree!”

“Never mind him. What’s this-woman doing here?”

She hissed, “Looking after Lor’ Rustin, more than his liege cared to!” A flick of her head, to toss back her hair.

“You were to work at the inn!”

“Why? What if Tantroth’s soldiers came? Or Llewelyn’s, who knew me?”

“You could say you knew nothing. They wouldn’t hurt you. More likely, they’d …” I colored.

“I won’t be a soldiers’ whore!”

“Go elsewhere, then. We have errands of-”

“You stole my Rustin, where should I go, but to him?” Her face dissolved as she threw herself into his arms. “An’ thank Lor’ of Nature I came. He was racing along the road swatting bees, stung half to death!”

Rustin met my eyes, offered an embarrassed shrug.

With a growl I turned away. I glanced up the road, and froze. A horseman, in the colors of Margenthar. “It’s not over.” I scrambled onto the wagon, snatched up the sword. “Your lying whore led the enemy to us!”

The soldier waved and shouted as his charger cantered down the roadway. He was garbed for war, sword bouncing at his side, arm in shield. A helmet shadowed his eyes from the midday sun.

Rustin’s good sword was still strapped to Santree, where Genard had tied him. Rust snatched a dagger from his belt.

“Elryc, Genard, behind the cart!” I had time to mount Ebon, but our attacker bore a shield, and I had none; that would give him advantage to drive me off. On foot, I was at more risk of injury, but with luck I could slash his horse’s legs, bring him down.

“Hold, Rodrigo!” The soldier gestured anew.

My jaw went tight at the hated colors of the Duke. “He’s mine, Rust. Stay back!”

“You can’t bring down a mounted man with-”

“Watch me!” As the man neared I lunged at his steed, sword extended.

Though caught by surprise, the soldier had quick reactions; he bent over the pommel, got his shield between my blade and his mount’s legs. In a flash, his sword was drawn. “No, Prince!”

I aimed a dismembering blow at his midsection; he parried. Again I struck, and again he countered. Despite my orders, Rustin quietly circled, waiting for an opening. From the cart Hester watched, her eyes grim, a protective arm around Elryc. Chela had disappeared behind the wagon.

Rust feinted. The soldier’s steed reared. The man drove his mount in a circle, fending off us both. “Wait, Roddy!”

Rustin lunged, almost managing to drive his dagger into the man’s thigh. For an instant the soldier had opportunity to run Rustin through. He was too dull-witted to take advantage. Instead, he batted Rust with his shield. Rust reeled, his legs unsteady.

While the man’s attention was diverted I slashed viciously at his right arm. The shy of his horse threw off my blow; I succeeded merely in parting the reins. The edge of my blade buried itself in his pommel, wrenched itself from my grip.

At the impact, the soldier whirled, raising his shield for a blow. In desperation I leaped, clung to his forearm, gave a mighty tug. With a cry of despair he flew from the saddle, fell atop me, sword clattering. Half-stunned, I managed to twist myself free, climb atop his chest. I snatched up the sword.

“Kill him, m’lord!” Genard pranced in a frenzy of excitement. “Kill him!”

The man bucked, flinging me into the air. I raised both hands, gripped the blade for the plunge into his chest.

He shrieked, “Mercy, Lord!” It stayed my hand just long enough for him to draw breath. “Always you want to kill me!”

The voice seemed familiar. I hesitated.

“Vicious boy, not a moment did you grant me to plead my case! Go ahead then, end it!”

“Fah! Nothing you say could excuse Margenthar’s-”

“I speak not for the Duke! Please, Lord Prince!”

With an oath I twisted his helmet, nearly cracking his neck in my haste to have it off.

Fostrow, my gaoler.

I gaped. “What do you here?”

“I’ve chased you through hill and dale for two imp-laden nights!”

“To drag me back!”

“To join you!”

That doused the embers of my rage. While they still sizzled and smoked I held his shoulders, uncertain. “Have you lost your wits?”

“What choice had I?” He groaned. “Let me up; my spine is on a rock.”

“Good.” I jounced his stomach; he gasped with pain. “Explain, churl!”

“Know you not your uncle’s ways? Think you I could knock at his chamber, say I let you dump me in a clothing chest? Oww! If you’d break my back, have done with it!”

Reluctantly, I shifted.

“He’d have hanged me on the spot. He warned as much, when he set me to guard you. Even while I was suffocating in that cursed wardrobe I knew better than to cry for help.” Fostrow glowered, as if his dilemma were my fault. “By the time I worked myself loose, the castle was in an uproar. Smoke in the cellars, Tantroth’s troops charging toward Llewelyn’s keep.” He shook his head. “Easy enough it was to mount, and slip out in the confusion.”

My grip tightened on the sword. “You left earlier, by the Duke’s order. Else, you couldn’t have gained entry to Llewelyn’s keep to follow us.”

Fostrow’s face grew red. “Think you I don’t know the path through Besiegers’ Pond? Was I not raised under the castle walls?”

I caught Rustin’s eye, exchanged glances. He shrugged.

“Youngsire, why are you so suspicious?” Fostrow loosed a hand enough to pat my leg. “A townsman saw you and the two boys slip onto the pond trail. The dead mare with an arrow through its throat was marker; I recognized the charger from our stable.”

I growled, “My stable. You come from Verein.”

He said with dignity, “I was sent to Verein. I come from Stryx.”

“And you’re here to drag me back.” I raised Rustin’s dagger.

“Stay, Roddy.” Elryc, his tone urgent.

I glared at his interference. “He’d carry you off to Pytor’s cell!”

“I would not!” Fostrow was indignant.

“Hear him out.”

“His tales get wilder and-”

“I climbed down the ravine, but you’d disappeared into the keep. I couldn’t go to the gate, lest you’d have them shoot me before I could explain. So I waited half a league up the road you must surely take. All night I paced, cursing the imps and demons of the dark. It was full dawn before I risked going off the road to piss, and while I was behind a bush your party galloped past in a flash. I mounted and followed, but …” His face puckered. For a moment I thought he was going to cry.

The danger seemed past, and he was unarmed. I slipped off his stomach, helped him to a sitting position.

“Ill luck rode my shoulder. My horse caught a stone in her foot, and I was an hour dislodging it. At Whiecliff they said you were but two hours ahead, so I had no chance to eat. Then Nell lost her shoe, and I had to walk her the rest of the way into Seawatch. I found the smith, but I was hours persuading the scoundrel to reshoe her. His mind has a warp, like a mishammered sword.”

Rustin leaned over, brushed dirt from the man’s back. “How did you find us?”

“How not, youngsire? Folk at Whiecliff said you’d inquired about an old lady’s wagon and followed her path; think you such a procession would go unnoticed? Wherever I went I had merely to ask for a cart followed by three boys.”

“I’m no boy.” Reluctantly, I sheathed the sword. “Go back whence you came. I’ll have none of you.”

“Back to what, Prince Rodrigo?” Fostrow’s tone was injured. “The Duke won’t have me, and Tantroth holds the coast. All I know is to soldier.”

“Then serve my uncle at Cumber. Begone.”

“Think you I serve for coin, like Eiber’s black-clad troops?” He drew himself up. “I’m of Caledon!”

“Fah! You swore fealty to my uncle, and abandon him without remorse.”

“It’s a sore point,” he admitted. “But I’ve pondered it. Does my oath require me to go meekly to my own hanging? Would you expect such of me, my lord?”

“A vow is a vow.”

“Easy to say, for one who demands fealty and need not give it.” His tone was a rebuke. He rubbed his back, winced. “My lord, if Margenthar isn’t Caledon, then you are. I offer my service. I ask only that you feed and clothe me, and provide me arms.”

I glanced from Rustin to Elryc. “Can you imagine such gall? Not two days ago, he held me prisoner.”

Elryc overrode me, with unexpected eagerness. “Fostrow, I’m the Prince’s brother, and heir in the event of his mishap. If he’ll not have you, gladly I offer you vass-”

“Hold! I didn’t refuse! Fostrow, how can I know you won’t betray me?”

His tongue roved his cheek, as if searching for a lost crumb. “Why, I guess you can’t, my lord. Who can look inside another’s soul? But I’ll swear an oath on whatever Rite you ask.”

I hesitated, half-certain I was committing folly. But Elryc waited, to snatch any morsel I disdained. “Very well, then.”

Chela came out of hiding to watch the solemn oath I administered a few moments later, and Fostrow became my man. Though Rustin seemed glad of his presence, I made note not to let him ride close behind me, armed. Genard introduced himself, with ludicrous dignity, as Elryc’s liegeman. Fostrow gravely gave his hand.

With acid realism, Hester prodded us onward. “We haven’t food for so large a party; you boys eat like horses. Even when we reach a village, we’ll be pressed for coin to support ourselves.” She glared at me, as if in blame.

I paced Ebon to match the roll of the cart. “I have enough.” With another sworn vassal, I felt magnanimous. “A year’s stipend will buy-” I patted the remaining saddlebag, jerked the reins so hard Ebon reared. “Rust! It’s gone!”

“What is?”

“My coin was in the bag we left in the clearing!” I slammed my forehead with the edge of a fist. “Hester, we have to go back.”

She made no move to brake the cart. “Go, then. Catch up to us, if you survive.”

“Hester!”

She wheeled on me, her face set in stone. “You were fool enough to leave the road, it was you who loosed your saddlebags when you camped. Flaunt the forest once more, if you dare.”

“But it’s day.” I appealed to her frown.

“Was there gold in your purse?”

“Twenty pieces.” Also silver, and coppers.

“Powers mingle with land, and gold, and the folk who rule. Now the forest has the gold, and would keep it. The insects were but a growl. Do you want to face white-hot rage?”

“Genard, ride back, would you? The bags are next to the bush with the pink flowers. While you’re there, pick up our cloth-”

Rustin leaned over, gripped my arm. “Help me be proud of you, Roddy.”

Genard rode on as if he hadn’t heard.

“Let go.” I massaged my arm. We rode in sullen silence.

We camped the night at the edge of the road. I gnawed at dried beef, resentful that Rustin had insisted I share our precious stores. I didn’t begrudge feeding him; after all, he was my friend. Besides, he’d brought food of his own to share. But our supplies would hardly last another day, with Chela, the soldier, and Genard devouring them.

Hester and Elryc slept in the wagon under the tent. Genard stretched across a bed of boxes in the back of the cart. Stolidly, Fostrow unpacked his gear, made a bed of a worn cloth.

To my disgust, Rustin and Chela shared a blanket. I twisted and turned on the dewy grass, trying to make myself comfortable, listening for the inevitable sounds of their intertwining. Though there were none, my imagination was inflamed, and I grappled with indecent passions. I brooded on the misfortune of Chela’s presence, until finally I was able to sleep.

The day began in sultry mist, under a steady drip from the canopy above. It was not so wet as to force us to seek shelter, but clammy and dank enough so our clothes hung uncomfortably on us. Elryc arose sullen and restless, his face flushed.

The road climbed steadily. By midday, in the hills, the oppressive heat had dissipated. Even Hester’s dark mutterings took on a less irritated tone. “From the last ford, this was old Cumber land, and bears no ill will to our House.”

Our House? The old nurse spoke as if she too bore the blood of Varon and his heirs. I snorted with contempt

When we stopped to make a meal and rest the horses, Rustin noticed my blotched jerkin, made a great fuss over the scabs given by Hester’s whip. He led me to a small stream, gently patted my lacerated back with a cold cloth. I forbore to remind him his own bear hug had reopened my wound.

“Have faith, my prince. This must be a great trial.”

“The cuts? They’ll heal in a couple of days.”

“The whole affair. Abandoning your home, your worry lest Tantroth prevail, finding yourself without weapon or coin.”

I stopped to consider. Actually, I hadn’t thought of it so; freeing myself from Uncle’s surveillance was a joy, regardless of the consequences. And I hadn’t thought much about Tantroth, once I was beyond reach of his arrows. But I gave a great sigh. “Yes.”

He embraced me, careful of my back. “I’m with you.”

I loosed myself. “Elryc too, and Hester. Between you, enough will find work so I don’t starve.”

The look he gave was unfathomable. “Is that your concern, my prince?”

“That and lack of a weapon. All I have is that paltry half-sword on the cart. Could I have the use of yours?”

He seemed aghast. “The blade Fallon made, that I had to await so long?”

“Good heft on it, no?’ I reached for his waist, withdrew it carefully from its scabbard.

“What weapon would be mine, Roddy?”

“The half-sword, until we find you a better. I’m head of our House, and should have a decent blade. Besides, we have Fostrow to defend us. You won’t need one.” I decapitated a few stalks of hay. “Yes, Fallon did good work. Please, Rust. After all, what’s a vassal for?”

“I only love that sword. It’s the first I chose myself.”

“Oh, come on, I won’t nick it.” I waved it, lunged against a pretended foe. “Is it fitting that I go without?”

His voice was toneless. “As you desire, my lord.” Slowly, his fingers unlaced the scabbard. “Guard it well.”

I buckled it onto the rope of my belt. “Shall we walk, while they set our meal? Hester says the forest’s safe here.”

“No.” Rustin stalked up the knoll to the wagon. He’d undergone one of the mysterious lightning changes that despoiled his moods.

He shared a plate with Chela, to spite me. I tore at meat that ached my teeth, chomped viciously at an apple. Rustin seemed oblivious. Elryc squatted alongside me with his meal.

I kept my voice low. “How did you get out of the castle?”

“I told you Hester turned me into a bird. She has great Power.”

I raised a fist to club him, decided not to demean myself in front of the others. “The truth.”

He sniffled. “Ask Nurse, if you don’t believe me.”

Later, as we rode, I took occasion to draw alongside the cart. Elryc dozed at Hester’s side, his head lolling against her shoulder. My voice low so he wouldn’t wake, I strove to sound casual. “How did you bring Elryc out of the castle?”

Her eyes swiveled to mine, expressionless. Then, like a snake, her hand shot out at me, made a sign. I shied so violently I almost fell from my saddle. She hissed, “Ask not, Princeling!”

I muttered a curse, spurred Ebon several paces ahead, rode with head down, clutching the pommel, until I ceased to shake. Lucky we were to have survived her. I wondered if Mother knew our nurse was a witch. Had I submitted my brother to more peril than he faced from Duke Margenthar?

At evening, grumbling, Hester called a halt near a bubbling brook. “I hoped to reach Fort by tonight, or at least Shar’s Cross. But we need to rest the drays. Rustin, Roddy, unhitch them, hobble them to pasture.”

Dutifully, Rust obeyed. It wasn’t my place to do the work of a stableboy, but Genard had taken charge of Ebon, Santree, and Nell, so without making an issue of it I held the team’s reins while Rust tended to their needs.

I couldn’t tolerate another night near Rustin and his whore. The tent in the wagon was rightfully mine, as the whole purpose of our voyage was to preserve our House. Yet I didn’t feel up to requisitioning the canvas from Hester. I made a place near Genard in the back of the wagon, slept again in the open.

At first light Hester shook me awake, demanded I hitch the drays. I rolled over back to sleep, but she snatched my blanket, leaving me shivering in the morning mist. “Elryc runs a fever. We’ll hurry to the village.”

Elryc always ran a fever of one sort or another; his eternal sniffle was sentinel to his erratic health. Grumbling, I prodded Genard awake, made him do the more wearisome tasks. I thought of kicking Rustin out of the soft blanket he shared with his whore, but that wasn’t safe; at times he could turn on me with violence. Still, the work should have been his. After all, it was he who’d unhitched the team.

When we were under way Fostrow rode alongside me. “I don’t know this country, laddie. Between Stryx and Verein, I could tell you every rock, yet northward …”

I grunted, but he seemed unaware I wasn’t enjoying his chatter.

“Where, exactly, do we ride?”

I shrugged, turned it into a scratch. It wouldn’t do for him to know I was as ignorant as he. “To Fort. A village near the Cumber hills.” I made my tone condescending. “You know of Cumber?”

“Aye, who doesn’t? The land rests uneasy between Caledon and the Norland, with only great hills and steep passes to keep the barbarians at bay. That old fart held it as fiefdom of the Queen.”

My voice was cold. “That old fart is my great-uncle Raeth, Earl of Cumber.” The guardsman’s view was accurate, but he was but a minion.

“Sorry, my lord. The way he doddered around Stryx Castle, peering at everything, with that silly valet hovering …” He cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

A time passed. I drowsed, lulled by Ebon’s steady plod, and the squeak of the wheels.

“When Elryc-excuse me, Lord Elryc-is escorted safely to Fort, what will you do after?”

“Do?”

“About the crown. About Tantroth.”

“What concern is it of yours?”

His brow wrinkled. “Why, I’ve sworn to you, Rodrigo. I should like to know-”

“You’ll go where you’re told.” I spurred Ebon, caught up to Rustin, who rode Santree alongside Chela’s nag. “Ride ahead with me, Rust.”

“Hester won’t like-”

“Demons take her. Come.” I galloped down the path, and after a moment Rust followed. We were soon lost from the others amid leafy turnings.

“Not so far, Roddy.” Rustin slowed.

“Afraid? Hester says the wood is benign.”

“And what of Elryc, if marauders overtake the cart?”

Reluctantly, I reined in. “You think too much. It spoils the fun.” I slipped out of the saddle, held the straps loosely while Ebon nuzzled the grass.

The wood was silent, except for the rustle of trees and the gentle buzz of insects. Rustin studied my face.

I blurted, “Rust, will you marry Chela?” Aghast, I waited for his anger at my intrusion. Until the words had flown from my mouth, I had no idea that I would ask.

“Of course not!” He seemed shocked at the very thought.

“Good. She isn’t suitable.” I giggled. “And Llewelyn would have fits.”

“Aye.” His face darkened. “May all go well for them at the keep.”

“The walls are stout.”

“You’ve never seen siege engines at work, Roddy.”

“Neither have you.” Sometimes his assumed superiority was nettlesome. To divert him, I changed the subject. “Tell me truth. Did you arrange for Chela to ride after us?”

“Lord of Nature, no!” He reddened. “I had no idea, when things began between us, that it would carry this far.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Besides, I’m-not ready to marry.” He prodded the turf with the toe of a boot, as if testing. “Not … for a long while.”

I nodded wisely. “You’ll want your title first, when Llewelyn’s time is past. With that you’ll make a better marriage.”

He said nothing. I sat, to lean against a tree. “Rust, how is it we wander down an abandoned goat track, so far from home? What plans should I make?”

He leaned back, shoulder to shoulder with me, closed his eyes. “It’s for you to decide. You’re Prince of Caledon.”

“What can I do?”

He ticked off options. “Stay with Hester, at Fort. Or go on to Cumber, where surely the Earl will take you in.”

“Not Cumber. I won’t exchange one keeper for another.” I brooded. “Hester is a madwoman, and I shouldn’t leave Elryc in her charge. But if I stay she’ll make a madman of me too. Is there nothing else?”

“Aye, my lord. Set your standard, and try to raise an army to free Caledon.”

Tents unfurled, hooves galloped, swords rang amid the flutter of pennants. Slowly, my glorious vision faded. “I haven’t funds to support an army, even if they’ll come at my call. I’m not yet crowned.” I chewed at a knuckle. “Though, I have the crown in my saddlebag. What if I don it, and call myself King?”

“Self-crowned, would you wield the Still?”

“No, but Uncle Mar stole the Vessels; I’ll never find them. The Still’s useless.” I thought again of Rustin, rolling with Chela in the sultry night, felt an unexpected stir. “Rust, it doesn’t matter. My body won’t let me wait much longer.”

“Oh, my prince.” His eyes opened, turned to mine. His knuckles stroked my cheek.

The tenderness startled me; I reached to thrust him away, found my eyes brimming. He gathered my head onto his chest, sat quite still, had the sense to say nothing while I stifled my sobs. Only the gentle stroke of his fingers revealed he was awake.