Chapter 8
King's Lake
Although the sun had been up an hour or more, many in the Traveler's Camp were still sleeping off a night of dancing and drinking. The camp seemed quiet and a little unkempt in the morning light. A few Traveler men sat around a small fire, watching the advance of the Royal Guard. El Grande drank spiced tea from a mug and stared into the red coals of the fire as he spoke.
"Looks as though Esmeralda's try at bringing the young prince Avor to speak for us didn't work."
Shandor spat into the fire. "It seemed to be working. I expected him to be sitting around the fire with us this morning, mooning over Esmeralda."
El Grande set his empty cup at his feet. "It was that tall man, came with Avor and Electra. He carried the prince off last night. Old Zigana said the man was kin to us. He was the child of a woman named Drina who left to work for a rich man. Before my time, I guess."
Shandor sipped wine from his flask. "It was that meddler, Electra, that took him off if you ask me. She likely brought the tall one along for just that reason." He glared at El Grande. "She knows where my Angelica is, I'm sure of it. And by the stars, I'm not leaving this lake until I find out what she knows."
El Grande and the other men looked at Shandor with disgust, but said nothing. They all knew Angelica left because of her father's drinking. If Shandor wanted to stay behind, he would not be missed.
A young man with a handsome face and a dancer's lithe body spoke quietly. "I doubt the prince being here this morning would have changed anything. Even if he wished us to stay, he would not defy his father. I would rather move on anyway. There's nothing for us here. The men across the way don't even speak a language we know."
El Grande nodded. "Shall we go north then? The city of Henge offers possibilities."
The men around the fire nodded their agreement.
Shandor stood up. "I'll join you in Henge later. First I intend to find Angelica." He walked off unevenly toward his tent.
El Grande shook his head and said softly to the other men, "With luck, that will take a long time."
Muller drew up to the Traveler caravan and dismounted. Children ran about the camp in little clusters. Three of the women were washing clothes at the lake's edge, an old man was feeding and watering the horses. Muller looked around for someone who might be in charge. He walked over to the old man, who looked at Muller and put his two buckets down.
"I need to speak to someone in charge. Camping is not allowed here by order of the King."
"I suppose you could speak to El Grande." The man pointed to the group of Traveler men drinking tea around the campfire.
Muller approached the group cautiously. "I need to speak to El Grande."
The men looked up and a tall man in a blue satin shirt stood up. He stared at Muller.
"Who are you? You look familiar."
"That is because we met once before in Chase Bound. I was doing secret work for King Geoffrey at the time—trying to locate Serafina and the Princess Electra."
"I remember you," El Grande said. "We've known Electra all her life. If you had told us why you were looking for her we would have helped you."
Muller frowned. He didn't really believe they would have helped him back in Chase Bound, but he couldn't be sure.
El Grande continued in the same friendly vein. "Yes, she is quite a friend to us. That is the main reason we stopped here. She and her brother Avor were with us just last night, our guests for dinner."
Muller was feeling more and more uncomfortable about telling them they must leave. "Prince Avor and Princess Electra were here?"
"Of course. Electra was happy to see us all again, and Avor is a special friend of Esmeralda, if you know what I mean."
"No, I do not. I'm afraid I am here on orders from the King. You are not allowed to camp here. You must move on at once." Muller paused and another man stepped forward. He had a flushed face and hard eyes.
"Did you find Serafina in Chase Bound?" he asked.
"No. Unfortunately, she managed to elude me, and sent me on a wild goose chase. There is a warrant out for Serafina's arrest."
"What's the charge against Serafina?"
"Murder."
The men looked at one another, their surprise written on their faces. El Grande turned back to Muller.
"Who did she murder?"
"I doubt you know him. General Pommell was his name."
The men shook their heads. They had not known him.
"Is there a reward for her capture?" the man with the flushed face asked.
"Ten gold pieces."
El Grande intervened. "Does anyone know where she is?"
"She now lives in Henge."
"I see. As it happens we were planning to move on anyway." El Grande leaned into Muller, causing the spy to take a step back. "Where might camping be allowed?"
"Not in Fernland. The King will allow you passage north or south along King's Road, but you may not stay in Fernland."
"Just for the sake of argument, what would happen if we chose to stay a few more days?"
Muller put on a stern countenance. "That would be unwise." He turned to face the road. "Yonder waits the King's Royal Guard, sent to enforce the king's command, by force if necessary."
El Grande looked at the Guardsmen in the distance and judged the number to be around 100 men. He shrugged his broad shoulders as though he didn't care whether they stayed or not.
"Will an hour be soon enough to suit you?"
"Yes. I will wait with the Royal Guard until you are on your way. Will you go north or back the way you came?"
El Grande took his time answering. Finally, he said, "I believe we will go north."
"Very well." Muller mounted his horse and rode back to wait with the Guardsmen.
Within an hour, the first wagon rolled slowly out to the road and turned north. The others followed in a long line. Muller and the Royal Guard did not notice that one man had stayed behind, moving a small tent back into the trees, away from the lake.
The Royal Guard followed the Traveler caravan as far as the castle's drawbridge, where the bulk of the Guardsmen turned off from the main road to return to the castle. A few Royal Guardsmen continued on behind the northbound Travelers to ensure their exodus from Fernland.
Princess Electra Book 3 Gypsy Music Page 8