by Katy Haye
I snatched up my glass and took a drink, turning away from him. The liquid stuck in my throat. Was he in the prince’s confidence? Did he know his sister would be chosen?
He couldn’t know that. And I couldn’t let it happen. Whatever it took, I had to win the prince.
22 – Chance to Shine
The next day was, officially at least, purely for pleasure. The meetings and entertainments with the candidates had finished, the court had a day off from business, and the Prince’s birthday was nearly upon us. This was a day for celebration.
A hunt had been planned. I’d expected that to change now that Claresse was injured (and despite my brother’s disapproval, still at the palace), but the prince arranged an alternative that enabled him to enjoy his sport without any being excluded.
Targets were set out on the lawn, with others hung from the trees that edged the smooth expanse. The men of the court would spend the morning target shooting, while we women watched from the balconies.
All the candidates were swept onto the same balcony by the chamberlain. I didn’t know whose idea that had been. There was plenty of physical space, but we were all sufficiently on edge that being pushed together provoked our worst tempers.
Fortunately, we were in full view of the court below, so we all appeared cordial, even if the opposite were true.
Claresse was obliged by her injury to sit and she made the most of the matter.
“You must stand behind me, Glynneth. I can’t see past you,” she complained. The younger girl was craning over the stone rail of the balcony in order to see the prince – who had yet to appear – better. And so she might easily be seen by him, which was far more important.
She pouted, but lacking the confidence to protest Glynneth retired to stand obediently behind Claresse’s seat. Rannyl asked a servant to bring another chair. That was set beside Claresse and she sank down with a smile. “I shall bear you proper company,” she told Claresse, “And we can talk while they are getting everything ready.”
After a few minutes standing around while nothing much happened, men and horses milling on the grass, I longed to sit and chat, too. But my father and brother were both on horseback below and I knew I couldn’t afford to give the slightest sign that I wasn’t doing my utmost to capture the prince’s attention.
Mage Redmor did not lower himself to take part in games such as this, but he was standing on the path below and I caught his occasional glance up at the balcony. My fingers tightened on the stone. What – did he think I might throw the potion from here and get it into the prince’s mouth? I folded my arms and leaned against the balustrade, ignoring the soft murmur of Rannyl and Claresse’s voices and the sharper bicker of Jesca and Glynneth on their other side.
It was a beautiful day, as though even the weather cooperated to give the prince what he desired. Colours were bright in the sunshine, and a light breeze made the leaves sigh and shush on the far side of the lawn. I glanced at the buildings on the far side of the palace, wishing I might go to the mews. It was a perfect day for hawking, but that wasn’t what the prince had chosen to do.
A murmur of sound below had Glynneth running to the front once more. The prince strode out of the palace. “My apologies for keeping you waiting.” His voice carried clearly to us, as did the murmurs from the other men that they minded the delay not at all.
He swung onto his horse and Glynneth retreated a few steps before Claresse could complain.
I’d never seen this style of competition before. Two riders lined up at one end of the lawn and the object was to race to a finish line on the other side whilst shooting at the targets on their side. Speed and accuracy were both rewarded. The men of court lined up in pairs and the contest began. My brother and father raced against each other. Father won. Losers stepped aside so that winners competed against winners until the riders were narrowed down to one final pair.
Today, that was the prince and Lord Venner, who declared that he was riding as his sister’s champion, thus ensuring all eyes turned to Claresse, who stood and waved her good arm in acknowledgement, a brave smile on her pretty face. “May the best man win!” she called. I wondered who she considered the best man; probably the prince, since it was him she desired to impress.
The two men took their places, the herald blasted the horn and they raced off. The thunder of hooves and whizz of arrows filled the air, but only for a short minute. Lord Venner crossed the finish line first, but by the smallest margin. He had the advantage, but he couldn’t be declared the winner yet. The tally of arrows on the targets was made.
“The prince is our victor!” the herald cried.
Everyone cheered. Claresse beamed. Lord Venner looked so calm at his loss that I suspected he’d deliberately made little effort towards accuracy.
Jesca leaned over the balcony, waving to catch the prince’s attention. “Your highness!” She stretched so far I wondered if she might fall. “I should like to challenge you!”
A murmur of surprise passed around the court. Lord Firefort smiled at his daughter’s boldness. The prince turned his horse to face Jesca fully. “You shoot, my lady?”
Grinning, Jesca dipped a curtsy. “I’m accounted a decent shot, your highness.”
He waved a hand in welcome, “Then please, I would love to test my skills against yours.”
Beaming, Jesca hurried into the palace. Outside, a servant ran to fetch a suitable mount for her. In the crowd, my father glared daggers at me, but what did he think I could do? I couldn’t shoot a bow, and if I attempted to do so on horseback I’d likely either shoot the horse or fall off and break my neck.
Jesca breezed out of the palace onto the path and a groom helped her into the saddle. The prince nudged his horse close to hers. “Please, use my bow. I have another.” He handed over his bow and a quiver was brought with painted arrows so her victories would be clear to see.
On the other side of Claresse and Rannyl, Glynneth was now leaning against the balustrade like me. It was a good job the court’s eyes were on Jesca, for the sulky expression on Glynneth’s face wouldn’t have impressed anyone.
“Why didn’t she go down at the start?” she grumbled. “They were all done, and now they’re starting over.”
“She wants her chance to shine,” Rannyl called.
Glynneth stiffened. “We all want that,” she muttered. I watched the younger girl with interest. I wondered what had happened during her time with the prince. We all thought her too young to be a serious contender, but she was so cross at Jesca putting herself forward, it was clear she thought she had a chance.
“Can you shoot a bow?” I asked her.
She scowled. “No. I didn’t think Jesca could, either. She kept it from me.”
Ah, was that the problem? They were friends – or allies – and now Glynneth felt herself betrayed.
Movement on the ground snared our attention. A herald called out for the riders to take their places. Only the prince and Jesca moved, the rest of the court standing to the side to watch. A chance to shine indeed; Jesca would be delighted to be the centre of attention.
Ignoring my family’s eyes on me, I watched as the two made their way to the starting line. Jesca had a good seat, controlling the horse with her knees, the reins laid over one thigh so she had both hands free for bow and arrows.
The herald gave a blast on the horn and the horses leapt into a canter. The prince, gallantly, I thought, had given Jesca the line closest to the palace. Her targets were set at the edge of the lawn, clear to see.
He had the more difficult job of shooting at targets half-hidden by the trees’ foliage – although it wasn’t his first time along the course.
The crowd cheered as the riders sped past, drawing and shooting arrows one after the other.
Jesca reached the finish line first, grinning with delight, although when the targets were inspected she had only hit two of the eight, while the prince had sent an arrow into seven, missing only one.
“The prince is our
victor!” the herald called. Jaran bowed and Jesca curtsied while the crowd cheered politely.
“Well done, my lady.”
“Well done, your highness.” Jesca said with a smile.
“You are a valliant challenger. What can I give as thanks for the sport you offered me?”
Jesca looked surprised for only the smallest moment, then she smiled. “I would be honoured to sit beside you at the evening meal tonight, your highness.”
Jaran smiled and nodded. “It shall be so.”
We could hear them clearly, so I’m sure those on the ground below heard the gasp of outrage that filled the balcony. I felt a dull sense of disappointment; father would not be pleased. But I couldn’t help a grudging respect for Jesca. She had seen an opportunity and she had exploited it the way none of us could have done. I didn’t like the fact, but she deserved this victory.
Then I caught Glynneth’s expression. Her fists were tight by her sides, her face wreathed in hatred. If she and Jesca had formed an alliance for the contest, it was now at an end.
23 –Jealous Creatures
The following day Jesca was still glowing from the prince’s attention the night before. I needed to shift matters in my favour. Today, we were going hawking. This was my chance to shine, and I fully intended to make the most of it.
Unlike my hawking sessions with Mathu, and Rannyl, today’s outing was a grand affair. Horses filled the stable yard and dogs milled about, wagging tails and getting under the oblivious horses’ feet.
I half-wondered whether Jesca might also be hiding a talent with birds of prey, but she simply tried to look pretty atop her mare, while I was close to the prince and the other members of court who had hawks to control. As I glanced around the courtyard I found Rannyl swinging onto horseback, and Glynneth already seated on a bay mare. Her attention was fixed on Jesca in a hard glare. Friends were definitely enemies, but perhaps the wonder had been how they’d stayed friends for so long.
Mathu brought out Glide and I carried her on my wrist, a step away from the prince as we set off. There were about a dozen of us, but swollen to twice that number with the servants following on foot. We flooded out of the palace gates, startling the citizens going about their business as we clopped over the cobblestones. People stopped what they were doing to watch, their expressions filled with awe and admiration.
I kept my attention on Glide. She was hooded, so nothing could upset her, and I crooned gently to her as we trotted through the city and out across the ravine and into the Murval forest. The trees ran from here right up to the firethorn mountains, although we would only travel a mile or so today. The mountains formed a purple line on the horizon which marked the edge of the kingdom of Muirland, a border I’d never even approached. I wondered if I ever would. If I married the prince I might travel with him all around the kingdom. I shot him a glance. He was riding ahead, talking to the Lords Firefort and Nayre. Before I could travel anywhere with him, I had to become his bride. Jesca’s star appeared to be in the ascendant after yesterday, so I must make sure I outshone her by the time we returned to the palace.
“I wonder if the fish girl will catch us a rabbit or two again.”
My spine stiffened at the spiteful words. I forced myself to keep my eyes on the road ahead, as though I didn’t care, or hadn’t even heard. The sentiment was pure Jesca, but it wasn’t she who’d spoken. Glynneth just behind me had clearly picked up the poison from her former friend. My jaw set. Words mattered little.
“She’s eager to fly, my lady.” I glanced down at the voice speaking beside me. Mathu was walking at my stirrup. “She’ll do you proud,” he promised.
I smiled. “I know she will.”
We turned off the main path and ventured deeper into the forest. When we reached a wide clearing the dogs and the beaters headed out to do their work while we waited, watching for our moment. As the horses shifted I found myself beside the prince. He carried a beautiful tarhawk on his wrist, the bird’s feathers a close match for his own golden eyes.
“I hope you will fly him first, your highness,” I told him, my attention on the bird. “I can’t wait to see what he’s capable of.”
Prince Jaran smiled. “If I let him go first there may be no prey left for the others. He’s a fearsome hunter, and has the stamina of three birds.”
I smiled. “And why should he not take it all? This is your land, you can share it with whom you wish.”
“My land?” He raised a querying brow.
“Does everything not belong to the crown?”
“Which makes me servant, not master, surely?”
I laughed, swallowing down the sound before my father could overhear. “You are no one’s servant, your highness.”
He smiled as though conceding the point, and stroked the tarfalcon’s breast. “I might be his master, but I must earn his loyalty.”
My heart bloomed behind my ribs. We were back to loyalty. I kept my eyes on the prince’s face, not daring to turn in case I found my father glaring at me. “A good master finds it easy to inspire loyalty, I think.”
“Hmm.” He continued to stroke the bird’s feathers. It snapped its beak, but in pleasure more than anger. “I hope that is true.”
We must be bold. How odd, that it was Redmor’s words urging me to speak when silence might be wiser. “It is definitely true for me, your highness.”
Jaran’s attention snapped to me. “You are suggesting I have inspired your loyalty?”
“You have captured it entirely, your highness.”
His lips pressed together. “Above others who might have a claim?”
I kept my eyes on his face. My heart beat hard, but it was the easiest thing in the world to confirm my change of allegiance. “Above all others, my prince.”
He gave a small nod. “Then I must hope to always be worthy of it.”
“Of that, there can be no doubt.”
Jaran opened his mouth, but before he could say anything further a shout went up. “Quarry!”
Our banter interrupted, we both looked up, where a flock of black gudgeons dotted the cloudless blue. Jaran slipped the hood from his bird and the creature launched into the air almost before he had been set free.
I watched breathlessly, tracing his movements. He was indeed magnificent, his colossal wingspan lifting him effortlessly through the sky, speeding after the birds that scattered but couldn’t all evade him. His cry filled the air as he downed first one bird then another. By then, the dogs had found a cover of brown grouse and yet more prey lifted into the sky, crying in panic when they saw what awaited them.
It was fully five minutes later when Jaran whistled and his hawk returned to him. “Mighty boy,” he crooned as the animal settled on his wrist and tore into the scrap of meat Jaran offered him.
“Congratulations, your highness!” members of the court called.
“He is a fine bird, indeed,” a female voice called. I looked past Jaran to find that Jesca had sidled her way to his other side. She wished to monopolise his attention? Well, we would see about that.
“Shall I take a turn, your highness?” I offered, nudging my horse forward.
The prince smiled, looking up from stroking his bird to watch me. From the corner of my eye I saw Jesca’s expression curdle. “Be my guest, Lady Hanna. Let’s see if she can outdo her bigger friend.”
I didn’t much care what she did, I was more than happy to simply sit on horseback and talk to the prince all day, but Jesca had spoiled that plan. So I would use Glide to keep the prince’s attention. Mathu hovered at my side, and when the next cover was disturbed I slipped Glide’s hood from her head and she surged into pursuit of the scattering birds.
“She is beautiful,” Jaran breathed.
I smiled. “You have exquisite taste, your highness,” I told him.
His gaze shifted from the sky to me and a thrill passed through me when he smiled once more, his expression twisting my insides. “I am glad you think so.”
“She ha
s caught something!” Jesca cried, but her words made our attention return to the sky, not to her.
Glide attacked one of the birds, then released its body to plummet to the ground and the dogs waiting below to fetch her kills. When a dark shape filled the sky I assumed at first it was another grouse. It was only when Mathu beside me swore that I understood something was amiss.
Mathu whistled and Glide made a tight circle, puzzled by the summons when more prey remained for her to deal with. Mathu gave a shout to the servants.
My heart filled my throat as the dark shape grew larger – and closer to Glide. She gave a cry as she saw the danger. A hooded hawk had been released and rather than attacking the smaller birds, it had decided to deal with the threat posed by Glide first. Claws extended, it gave a cry of battle and launched itself at her.
Glide was smaller and tried to dodge, but the larger bird snagged her wing. Glide gave a pained squawk and plummeted to the ground.
“No!” I urged my horse forward, then slid from the saddle and ran. Amongst the trees I could move quicker on foot.
Glide slowed, one wing extended, the other useless. She dropped to the ground and I lurched forward to reach her before the dogs could. She gave a cry and tried to peck me but I didn’t care, picking her carefully from her bed of twigs and dead leaves. A moment later Mathu was at my side. “She lives?”
“She’s still alive. But her wing doesn’t look good.” I couldn’t bear to hurt her by extending her wing to examine the damage. Instead, I cradled her against my breast.
“I will do what I can,” Mathu offered. He held out his hands to take her.
I shook my head. “She’s my bird. I will care for her.” I looked at the falconer. “What happened? Was that a wild bird?”
His lips thinned. “One of ours. Our lad wasn’t watching the spare hawks closely enough. One came free.”
Everyone used to working with hawks knew you let them fly one at a time, to avoid accidents such as the one that had just happened. They were territorial, jealous creatures. I headed back to my horse, Glide held securely against my jacket. I wondered if what had happened could truly be considered an accident. I had known I might be a target, but whoever had attacked me hadn’t done so directly, but had chosen Glide for their prey. I swallowed down my fury at the thought that someone would attack me through her.