“Shortly. How did you know about the food at the kitchen door tonight?”
“The wee lass with the knife told me, the one that climbs trees.”
“Where?”
“On the way here—along the road.”
“After that you came here?”
“Nowhere else to go,” Sorry sniveled. “I got the key, don’t I.”
“Well, listen up. You are no longer Greyel’s lad—you are a recruit of the Queen’s Guard. Here is a coin to start with.” Mako put it into his hand. “Your task is to guard this house, but touch nothing! If something happens, or if Greyel returns, go to the castle and report to any soldier. Tell them to take you to Morse… immediately.” He said to Morse, who was shifting from one foot to the other, “Have new locks put on the doors tomorrow and give a key to this lad. He will need some food… and have someone tend to his injuries.”
Sorry stared up at him, mouth open. With his bruises and one eye swollen closed, he wasn’t the most promising recruit Mako had laid eyes on.
“Did you understand? Who are you to report to?”
“Any soldier… Morse… immediately,” he mumbled.
“This is Morse.” He pointed at the silent secretary-treasurer. “Remember, touch nothing! And… lad!”
“What?”
“Start thinking of a new name for yourself. If you cannot come up with something better than Sorry, I will assign you one!”
As Coltic and Mako returned to the castle, Captain Renold met them at the gate. Flickering torches lit the courtyard and cast threatening shadows. A sudden gust of wind swirled by, raising the dust and whipping through nearby bushes.
“I smell rain. It seems a storm is brewing… Any news?” asked Mako, suddenly noticing the expression on Renold’s face.
“Not good news. Two of my soldiers have returned, leading the other two… slung over their saddles!”
“Dead?”
“Scorched. They found them by the road, struck by lightning, although the horses were grazing nearby.”
“Where?”
“Some miles from the king’s hunting lodge, they say.”
“That cursed lodge!” Mako exclaimed. “I hope the queen and her ladies are still up… the War Council must consult!”
11
“That was quite a storm,” Minda noted when Scylla climbed stiffly out of bed early next morning. “Did you get any sleep, Princess?” The wind had howled through the night. Rain lashed at the windows and ran off the roofs in sheets, and thunder rumbled in the distance.
“I woke a few times. But after all that horse riding yesterday, I slept well!” She limped to her chair.
“I will bring you some tea. The maids are busy across the hall, but Axit will help you dress and lace up your ankle binding when she gets back.”
“Where is Axit?”
“She took the twig to visit the other children. Jay and the dogs are there too. They can all eat breakfast together.”
“No wonder it is so peaceful here. Is Sorrell still sleeping?”
“Yes, the storm kept her awake.”
“I keep thinking about Sorrell when I am on that horse, Minda—falling off the horse to be trampled underfoot!” She shuddered. “I do not like to talk about it!”
“Well, it is difficult to forget while Sorrell’s bones are still mending. It has been less than two weeks, after all. So much has happened that it feels much longer!”
An understatement, Scylla said to herself, if one considered even half the events since King Tobin had cheerfully orchestrated his family’s excursion to his hunting lodge—an excursion that had ended in massacre and upheaval. Now another cavalcade had set out for the same destination… on an urgent errand.
“Renold and Coltic and the soldiers left at dawn, I presume? Just as well they did not leave last night, when the wind came up!”
“They went before dawn,” said Minda. “I look forward to hearing them all come safely back.”
“I, too.” Scylla pulled the pins from her hair and shook her raven’s wing free. She combed through the strands with her fingers. “I believe I will just make a long braid today. I hope it does not scare the horse!”
“Are you going out to ride again today, Princess?”
“Captain Coltic says I must ride every day if I wish to find the magic… as he terms it.” She grimaced. “Perhaps River will show up again this morning. She has not yet come for the comb, and her hair is full of knots and tangles. I do hope she had shelter from the storm last night.” Scylla ran her fingers again through her hair. She had been practicing braiding it herself. Sorrell was still an invalid and Scylla did not really like having the other maids assist her. Nor Minda, who had plenty to do managing the castle’s housekeeping and all the staff—especially now with Herron so suddenly gone.
“Here is the kitchen lad with our food, I presume,” said Minda, hearing sounds outside the door.
After he left, Scylla eyed the table with resignation. It now held eggs in various forms, braided bread, cheese, a chunk of butter carved into the form of a sparrow sitting on a nest, vegetables, slices of cold roast meat, and the usual pies, cakes and fruit.
“The chancellor is right, I suppose… I should eat a little more. Fainting from a lack of nourishment could be fatal on horseback. How unfortunate that I do not enjoy eating!”
“Understandably, as your food was poisoned by the late queen. However, Maris is now dead.” Minda placed a hard-boiled egg on a plate and added a few other selections before bringing it to Scylla. “Let me know if anything else tempts you.”
Scylla gagged and averted her eyes. “Please take the meat away, Minda. I will try the rest. Perhaps a smear of butter on the bread… I used to like butter, I think.”
She was nibbling on a final piece of sheep’s cheese when Chancellor Mako came in and dropped into a chair.
“Good morning, Princess… Lady Minda! Ah, food… a welcome sight! I am hollow with the lack of it. Dawn came early, and I have been busy ever since.”
“Fill yourself but leave some for Sorrell, who is still sleeping. I have already eaten more than I wanted to,” Scylla informed him.
“Have you, Princess?”
“I am taking your advice and plan to fatten myself like a spring lamb.”
“But do not show her any of that sliced meat… she will gag,” said Minda with amusement.
“I wish to ride the horse again today, Chancellor,” Scylla informed him. “Even though our sorcerer has gone with Captain Renold.”
“Come out in an hour, Princess. The horses will be on the field. Prince Leon is already champing at the bit—he has taken to the saddle like a soldier.”
“Bring the other pony, too. River might want to ride again.”
“By the way, Captain Renold has taken a few light riders and fast horses along. He will send back messages as the day unfolds.”
“What else has kept you busy this morning, Chancellor?”
“Strategy with the captains before they left before dawn. Then checking up on Sorry, the physician’s lad. His shoulder and some ribs are broken, and I cannot tell if his injured eye will recover. He had little more to tell us than he did last night… Greyel has been stewing for days. He wanted to leave Rellant but dislikes the sea. He also studied books as he rode and hid them as he passed through the villages. When the lad’s pony went lame, Greyel hit it with his stick to make it move. Sorry objected and Greyel turned on him, beating him until he fell senseless. When he awoke, the physician was gone.”
Minda said, “Have you called a healer to see to the boy?”
Mako nodded. “And the locks are changed, so if Greyel returns, he will not slip in easily. I have also sent soldiers to patrol the countryside, on the watch for Greyel or anything unusual. They will guard the horse field while you and the twig are riding.” He had stacked meat, cheese, and a fried egg on top of a piece of pie, and stood up. “I will take this with me. Come out when you are ready, Princess!”
Th
e morning ride started out much the same as the previous day. The twig took to walk, trot and figure 8s as if he were part of the pony. River descended from a nearby tree, as the trellets screamed encouragement. She climbed aboard the second pony. The young guard in charge of it kept a wary eye on the knife in her hand. Meanwhile, Mako led Scylla’s brown and white horse in large circles as she remembered Coltic’s instructions to breathe.
“I want to ride the way the soldiers do,” River piped up as her pony passed Scylla’s horse for almost the tenth time.
“How’s that?” asked Mako.
“They don’t lead each other!”
“Show her how to use the reins and her legs, soldier. Then put her on a longer line and start circling… starts, walks, stops. River, do what he tells you!”
Scylla watched River’s pony going around on the long line.
After some time, Mako said with approval, “I’m impressed, Princess. You are following the motion of the horse. At any rate, you were!” he added as she panicked and stiffened up.
“Hmmm… I was,” she agreed in surprise. “Well, Chancellor… if River can ride on the circle, I can too. But no trotting!”
“Good Goddess, Princess! Are you sure?” Before she answered, he was already beckoning to a soldier to bring a longer line. Soon the queen was imitating River.
“Good Goddess yourself, Chancellor,” she exclaimed a short while later. “This is not so difficult—the horse does as I wish. Watch! It walks, it turns… it stops!”
When she dismounted some time later, she went to the head of the animal and looked at its face. Large dark eyes stared back at her. “Its eyes are brown with a deep blue in the center,” she observed. “And it has longer eyelashes than I do. The end of the nose is like velvet… does it not have a kindly expression?”
Mako was not listening. “River! Sit down! Whoa, pony!” But River had tired of sitting and was now standing up without concern on the saddle. She held the reins with one hand while the pony continued on its circle.
“Stop that pony, soldier!”
“Yes, sir! ... not going near the knife, sir!” the soldier answered cheerfully. After a minute or so, River dropped back to the saddle, a toothy grin on her little face. She stopped the pony expertly, slid to the ground and ran away.
Meanwhile, her audience had been highly entertained. “Tree baby! Tree baby!” The trellets’ shrieks of mirth faded as they swung through the trees in her wake.
“Tree baby!” Mako shook his head in consternation. “She has no fear at all… Well, I suppose not, climbing trees the way she does!”
“I hope the twig will not imitate her! I know I won’t. Does this horse have a name, Chancellor?”
“I do not recall, Princess.”
“I think I will call it Browny. Take the saddle off and I will brush its hair as the captain instructed.”
“Here is the lead, Princess,” he said after pulling the saddle and bridle off. “The prince has had enough, too. Keep your horse to the side and please excuse me while I ride with the soldiers for a while. You, soldier! Guard Queen Scylla and the horse!”
In the afternoon, sword stick in hand, Scylla hobbled to the horse field with a new and strange feeling of enthusiasm. She had re-braided her hair after her nap and the long plait hung neatly in front of her right shoulder. Behind her, the bright-eyed twig hauled on Axit’s hand, pointing eagerly at four soldiers trotting in figure 8s. One of them rode over, lifted Leon to the saddle in front of him, and returned to the formation.
“Princess!” Mako rode up to her on a sweating horse and vaulted to the ground. “Some visitors are asking to speak to you.”
“Oh?”
“The forest folk. They are back.”
Scylla cast a glance around the field. She could see numerous soldiers, some of them riding. Nearby, her horse and the two ponies waited. At the corner of the field near the road, a small group stood, with soldiers of the Guard in a semi-circle around them.
“The travelers,” Scylla said. They had come the previous week while she was inspecting the damaged castle wall. “Those who were insistent about our trellet. They wanted to take him back to the forest, but he refused to go.”
Mako was nodding. “They want to meet with you, but will not say why.”
“I suppose they are here now about River’s trellets,” she said. “Well, I will speak to them. I will get on the horse first.”
The soldier minding the horse brought it over. The animal made a strange, throaty sound as it approached.
“What was that sound?” Scylla asked, startled.
“A nicker… that’s how horses greet each other. Or us, if they like us.”
“It likes me?” said Scylla in astonishment. The animal appeared to be looking directly at her from its dark eyes.
“Or it may just be recognition, Princess,” said Mako. He addressed another soldier. “Here, man… If anything occurs, take Prince Leon immediately back to the castle.”
He helped Scylla onto the horse and tied her sword stick to the front of her saddle. “Remember, you have your sword, Princess! Although I do not expect you will need it. Take the reins as you did this morning and use them, but I will lead the horse.”
They approached the distant group. The soldiers’ horses moved aside.
“Greetings, travelers,” said Mako. “Here is Queen Scylla.”
As she recalled from their previous visit, the forest folk were small in stature and dressed in rough clothing. She recognized one or two from their previous visit.
“Greetings!” she echoed. “As you may know, I have returned the trellet to the forest.”
The travelers exchanged lightning-quick glances.
“Greetings, Queen Scylla. We are aware of that,” said the same man who had been the spokesman last time. His face was tanned and lined from living outdoors. “We are here on another matter. As you know, we are travelers and do not keep fixed dwellings. We have been recently in the eastern forests.”
Mako’s gaze sharpened. “How recently?”
There was a pause. “Recently… now.”
“Our soldiers left in that direction this morning,” Mako said. “They are looking for someone who stole valuables from us.” There was another silence.
“We have heard, Queen Scylla, that you have spoken against the ways of King Tobin’s priests. Your father’s priests.”
She said coldly, “I have banned the priests’ religion—it had become rooted in self-interest and grew into betrayal. We return to the old ways… What say you to that, gentlemen?”
The travelers were still for a moment. Then the spokesman’s piercing eyes met hers once more. “We never abandoned… the old ways!”
“I bow to your wisdom, then.” She inclined her head in respect. The braided raven’s wing shifted free for a moment and she saw their eyes dart quickly to it and away.
“A magician has ridden into the eastern forest,” the spokesman said. “Do you know him?”
“A magician!” Scylla was thinking rapidly. Could they mean Greyel… or Coltic? “The priests’ books of magic have been taken from the castle. We do not know if the thief is actually a magician.”
“We know the thief went east, but we lost his trail. Two soldiers searching for him were found dead late yesterday,” Mako spoke up.
“The magician I speak of has been at the king’s lodge. This morning he rode further into the forest. Some of us are watching him. He studies a book as he rides.”
“The physician, Greyel,” Mako said. “He associated more closely with the traitors than we knew. We regret our oversight. My soldiers left before dawn to hunt him down, after the storm ended.”
“We believe he caused the storm. His actions are dangerous.”
“To your folk?”
“To all!”
Silence fell again. This time, along with the stonemasons’ tapping and Prince Leon’s happy chatter, she heard another faint sound. Curses!
“Well,” she said hastily
. “Give us a moment to discuss this in private, gentlemen!”
But the forest folk had heard the sound too and were listening. “Is it a trellet...”
“Trellets,” said another of them. They relaxed into stillness, listening.
Scylla heaved a sigh. “We have seen trellets recently…”
“They are young… Mmmm… little ’uns…” the travelers muttered among themselves. “Where are they?”
Scylla turned her head. Near the treeline by the horse pasture, she could see a small ragged figure meandering through the tall grass. Above her, two greenish forms flitted like birds through the branches.
What was River up to? Scylla’s eyes sharpened. The child held a stick oddly and ambled along, watching it.
“We seem to be infested with trellets,” Mako said heartily, to lighten the moment. But River’s odd behavior and the darting trellets riveted the eyes of all—the travelers, the soldiers, Scylla, and even some horses.
“Yon child is witching for water,” said the spokesman after a moment. Sly grins spread across the thin brown faces of his companions.
“That imp is under my protection,” Scylla warned them lightly.
“We have been told of a tree-dwelling feral child… is that the one?”
“It is,” said Scylla. “The trellets are with her. Is it possible that you plan to catch them?”
All the forest folk looked at her. “Oh, no… no… You cannot keep a trellet. They cannot live away from deep forest, not for long.”
“I ask that you don’t. Keet—the trellet I returned to the forest—has saved my life several times. In return I give protection to these strange creatures!”
The spokesman’s gaze had turned back to River. “Yon lass is witching for treasure,” he corrected himself in surprise.
River dropped to her knees, digging intently. Dangling precariously from the twigs above, the trellets shrieked with excitement. She picked up something small, perhaps a coin, and held it up to show them. Then, suddenly feeling eyes upon her, her head turned. A split second later she dove into the bushes. The trellets, instantly furtive, vanished among the screening leaves.
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