by Alex Bledsoe
“And yet you keep talking,” Isadora said. She snatched up another plate and smashed it over his head. “Does anything shut you up?”
He kept staring at the teeth in his hands, blood running down his chin. “You fucking cunt—”
“That’s enough!” Glendower roared. He stood looming over the table, so angry, his face was almost purple. Even incognito King Ellis looked a bit apprehensive. In the foyer, Ajax stood at full alert, ready to burst in should the family feud threaten his boss.
“Gordon, clean yourself up and get back in the kitchen,” Glendower said. “Isadora’s right, if I’d taken the strap to you when you were younger, you might be an actual human being by now, instead of the sheep’s ass you are.”
Hero and Helena jumped up from the kids’ table and ran to see about their father, crying, “Daddy! Daddy!”
“He’s old enough to have kids?” Liz asked me softly.
“There’s someone for everyone, I guess.”
One of the older maids, still a mere teenager, joined the two girls. “Daddy will be all right, girls. He hasn’t lost the use of anything valuable.” She faced the room. “I apologize for my husband’s language. Being good at one thing has gone to his head.”
“Just like that plate!” someone said. There was scattered snickering.
His wife and children helped Gordon to his feet and back into the kitchen. Isadora waited until the doorway was clear, then shut it behind him. She turned, and the serving staff all began to applaud.
Then the rest of us did as well. Smiling, still bright red from her flush of anger, Isadora swept back to her seat. Two of the maids rushed to hold it for her.
“Wonder what the after- dinner entertainment will be?” Liz whispered to me.
“I’m sorry for the interruption,” Isadora said. “Please, enjoy your drinks. There’ll be no more showstoppers, at least not before we eat. Dorcas, please serve the nuts.” She caught herself. “I mean, please serve the guests the nuts.”
There was a moment’s silence; then we all burst into laughter. I don’t know if Isadora misspoke on purpose, but whatever the cause, it wiped out the bad taste of Gordon’s little tantrum.
Smiling, she let the humor run its course, then held up her hands for silence. “Wait, before we start, I do have an announcement. Ladies and gentlemen, my cousin Cassandra, who has been almost my twin sister, will be leaving us. She’s taken the first oath toward becoming a moon pr—”
“Sorry I’m late,” a new voice said loudly from the doorway.
Prince Jack stood there, dressed in the same sort of formal clothes as everyone else, but on him it looked natural. His grin could’ve lit the room without the aid of the chandelier and candles. Behind him stood Billy Cudgel, smug as always. Behind him, Ajax still hid in the shadows, where neither Jack nor Billy had seen him. Jack would, of course, recognize Ajax immediately if he had, and known what his presence meant.
This was going to be interesting.
Cassandra, half-standing, sat back down with a disgusted look on her face. The younger kids at her table snickered, and she threw her napkin at one of them.
Isadora looked both terrified and ecstatic. Beside her, Beatrice reached over and took her daughter’s hand. I couldn’t tell if it was to reassure her, or hold her down.
“I apologize for interrupting your dinner,” Jack said as he swept into the room, “but I have an announcement, one that I’m sure some of you saw coming. But I bet I can still surprise you. Isadora?”
She pulled her hand from her mother’s grasp. Maids slid back the chair, and she joined Jack. King Ellis deliberately hunched down at his seat and peeked around the person beside him. He did not look happy. Not at all.
Jack knelt before Isadora, took her hand, and gazed up into her eyes. No one who saw this could doubt the way these two felt about each other. I’d seen love conquer a lot of things, so I knew its incredible power, but I’d never seen it expressed with this kind of purity.
“Isadora Glendower,” he said, “I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you. I bless the day my falcon made her flight across your father’s land. I would be truly honored if you would consent to be my wife.”
A sharp gasp came, not from King Ellis where I expected it, but from Clancy Glendower. Tears ran down his cheeks. Phoebe, dry-eyed, patted his hand reassuringly.
I glanced at Beatrice. She wasn’t crying, but the loss was as visible as if something had been cut away from her. Her lower lip trembled as she tried, for Isadora’s sake, to manage a smile.
Isadora began to cry with happiness, but she said formally, “Sir, I must have my grandfather’s permission.”
Glendower stood and indicated that Jack should also stand. Around me I heard more sniffling, including from Liz. He joined the young couple, his boots clacking against the stone floor.
“You know she is not of my blood,” Glendower said formally. “Yet she is of my heart, as surely as are my own blood children.” He put Isadora’s hand inside Jack’s. “Take hands, children, and we shall seal this bargain.” He turned to the rest of us. “And, friends, hear this: I give my daughter to him, along with a dowry that shall equal his portion in life.”
Now all the women and some of the men were openly sobbing, and we applauded with real enthusiasm.
Jack laughed. “The virtue of your daughter is all the dowry I ask, Mr. Glendower.” He kissed the old man on the cheek. “Now come on, mark our contract so we can get this party started.”
“Mark your divorce!” King Ellis roared as he jumped to his feet. His fury was enough to silence the room.
“Oh, fuck,” Jack gasped.
Billy Cudgel slid out of sight into the foyer, past Ajax, who had stepped into the open.
“And just who are you?” Glendower said.
“He’s my father,” Jack said, the way a condemned man might note the executioner’s approach.
“Oh, really?” Ellis yelled, and shoved past Glendower to confront his son. “Now I’m your father? You didn’t have the nerve to tell me about this—” He glared at Isadora. “—little piece of witchcraft you’ve been dallying with!”
Now Beatrice jumped up. “You will not talk that way about my daughter in my house, whoever you are.”
Clancy stood as well. “Or about my cousin!” he said. “Who is, you know, like . . . the same person as her daughter.”
Ajax stepped discreetly into the dining room now, ready to intercede should anyone physically threaten Ellis. With equal discretion, I lifted one foot over the bench so I was straddling it, the better to jump to my feet if I had to. But at the moment, I wasn’t sure what I could, or even should, do.
Ellis glared at the room, unintimidated as only a man certain of his power could be. “Silence, all of you!” He turned to Jack. “And you would take a woman from this rabble and make her a queen?”
“A queen?” Glendower repeated, puzzled.
“I’m King Ellis, you idiot! Your king! This is Prince John!”
The rest of us stood, as you do in the presence of royalty. I used the opportunity to step over the bench with my other foot.
Ellis yelled, “Oh, sit down, you imbeciles! We’re not in bloody court!”
A few did. The rest, frozen by fear and uncertainty, didn’t move. I hid among them.
Isadora looked like a hare trapped by foxes. She clung to Jack’s arm, and it might have been all that held her up. This was her worst fear, her greatest terror, and now it was happening and she could do nothing to stop it. Beatrice, also still standing, held one of the serving knives low beside her leg. I knew if she made a move toward Ellis, Ajax would skewer her without a thought. I couldn’t let that happen, even if it meant taking on Ajax cold sober and unarmed.
Ellis turned his attention back to Jack. “I’m trying very hard not to lose my temper and order the execution of this entire sheepherding family, when really the one I want to see hanging is you.” He poked his son in the chest for emphasis. “How dare you pick a commoner
princess behind my back? Your decision affects everyone in Altura!”
Jack slapped the hand away. People gasped. He said, “I may be heir to your throne, but I’m also heir to my own heart. Those insipid, pampered whores you’ve paraded before me—”
“Whores? They’re the crown princesses of our allies!”
“They’re using their femininity for gain and position, Dad, that makes them whores! And I’m not interested in advancing some political agenda, yours or anyone else’s. If I marry, it’ll be for love, and this is who I love!”
Ellis turned to Isadora. I expected her to wilt before his glare the same way her father had, but instead she stood tall, trembling chin up, and met his gaze with her own.
“And you think this . . . this shepherdess isn’t trying to advance her position? You think she’s not whoring herself to become a princess, then a queen?”
Beatrice turned white with anger, but thankfully stayed still and silent.
Isadora said, with great dignity, “Your Majesty, although it is none of your business, I shall tell you anyway. I am a virgin. I have tried with all my ways and wiles to convince Jack of the very same thing as you: that a commoner such as myself is not the right match for a crown prince. He has remained steadfast and honest in his dealings with me, a son of which you should be proud. The fact that you are not proud does him no dishonor. Only you.”
A few people gasped. I heard a whispered, “Fuck me.” A commoner just didn’t talk that way to a king, even in her own home.
“Traitors,” Ellis hissed, so angry, he could barely choke out the word. “I’ll hang you all for treason. Every last sheepherding one of you!”
Despite the tension, despite the threat of violence and possible capital punishment, Ellis’s tone brought back a vivid memory: the rage my own father showered on me as I lay recovering from the sword wound that should have killed me. “I have to face the king,” he’d roared in the exact same way, “and take the blame for your conduct!” His eyes had narrowed with what, at sixteen, I could only see as hatred and shame.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” I’d said. I was so weak, I wasn’t sure it was audible. Certainly he didn’t act like he heard it, or if he did, that it mattered.
“You failed to protect the goddamn princess of the goddamn country! If you’d died, too, then maybe we’d have some dignity left, but you couldn’t even do that right!”
He never said he was sorry I’d lost Janet, the first girl I’d loved. He never said he was worried about my own injuries. He was only angry about what I’d done to the family honor. He and I never had a chance to hash that out, and if someone didn’t intercede, Jack and Ellis might not, either.
I said, loudly and I hoped calmly, “I think everyone, commoner and noble, needs to take a deep breath.”
Everyone turned to look at me now. Ellis snarled, “Are you drunk again, sir? Because your prior conduct certainly doesn’t speak well of your insights.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “But your rage isn’t doing you any credit, either. Your son is more clever and insightful than you give him credit for, I think.”
“My son,” Ellis seethed, “is my business. Certainly no concern of some drunken foreigner.”
“Dad,” Jack said.
“Quiet!” Ellis faced the room. “I am leaving. If this worthless offspring of mine is back at court tomorrow, alone, we’ll forget this whole thing. If, however, he chooses not to return, I’ll personally lead a division of armored troops back here and burn this house, every cottage in the area, and the whole town of Mummerset to the ground. Mark my words.” He turned to leave. “Come along, Ajax.”
Ellis stomped from the dining hall, past Ajax and into the night. His bodyguard backed out slowly, watching the room, and closed the doors after them.
The room let out a collective sigh. Then they began to jabber at each other.
I went to Jack and Isadora. She wiped the tears that, moments ago, she’d shed out of joy. “I knew it,” she said. “I knew as soon as he found out, this would happen. And you knew it, too, Jack.”
He took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “Don’t give me that look,” he said lightly. “Nothing has changed. I love you, and if I have to give up the kingdom for it, well, I can learn to rule sheep, too.”
She turned to me. “Thank you for trying to help, Mr. LaCrosse.”
“Wish I could’ve done more,” I said honestly.
Cassandra joined us, arms folded. “Well, no one will care about my announcement now. But just to make it official: Dad, I’m becoming a moon priestess. I’ve taken the first vow, and I’ll be off to my training within a few days.”
Glendower stared at her, as if she spoke another language. “You . . . you’re what?”
“Forget it,” Cassandra said. She turned to Jack and Isadora. “Look, you two. Nobody ever pays any attention to me, but I’m going to tell you anyway. Get out of here. Right now. Don’t say anything, don’t grab anything. Just go.”
“Why?” Jack asked seriously.
The dog I’d heard in the garden before began to bark again, urgently this time.
“Because I have a feeling that something terrible is about to happen. I don’t get this feeling very often, but when I do, it’s never wrong.”
“Cassie,” Isadora began wearily.
Suddenly the kitchen door slammed open, and Gordon Glendower sailed through the air, landed on the table, and slid half its length, sending tableware and appetizers crashing to the floor. Through the opening came Tatterhead—so large, he had to both bend down and turn sideways to get his broad shoulders through. As big as he’d looked in Crazy Jerry’s castle, he looked even larger here, as the people of Mummerset screamed and rushed to get out of his way. Behind him came two men with short swords, the kind you use when fighting indoors.
Tatterhead looked around, his big nostrils flaring as he tested the air. Then his eyes locked onto Isadora.
“Pretty,” he said, and pointed a finger as big around as my forearm. “Very pretty.”
Chapter
EIGHTEEN
There aren’t many feelings worse than reaching for your sword and remembering you deliberately chose not to wear it. My hand closed on thin air even before the thought made it through my brain.
Not that it mattered much. In a room packed with frozen, terrified civilians, one more blade might’ve done more harm than good.
I dragged Liz away with the rest of the crowd, trying to blend in until I figured out what to do. The monster, because that’s what he was, put one big hand on the table and leaned his weight on it so hard, the wood croaked. I half expected the other end of the table to fly into the air.
One of the soldiers, gray-haired and grizzled, said, “Stay on task, TH.”
“Oh, I’m on task,” he said, then sniffed the air as he’d done back in Acheron. “She’s here, don’t worry.”
“The rest of you, just stay where you are,” the other soldier said. “We’re not here to hurt anyone, and we won’t if we don’t have to.”
Tatterhead’s dead-fish smell filled the room; not even the open windows mitigated it. I was reminded of something I’d once overheard: “Fish is the only food that has to spoil first to smell like what it is.” His big mouth hung partially open, and I realized he was out of breath; how fast had they been moving? And why the hurry?
I needed a weapon, if only to get everyone’s attention. There were a half dozen sharp knives within reach, just like the one Beatrice had grabbed earlier. Yet what good would table settings do against two professional soldiers and this vast . . . thing now sniffing the air and frowning?
Once he’d recovered his breath, Tatterhead lumbered over to us. Except for Owen, Isadora, and Jack, who still stood in the open, the crowd jammed back against the wall, whimpering and whispering among themselves. I fervently hoped none of them tried anything heroic.
“What is the meaning of this?” Owen bellowed. “You can’t just barge into someone’s home and—”
“You don’t give orders in my home, young man,” Glendower said.
Clancy stepped up behind him. “Uh, Dad, maybe you should listen to them. They do have a troll.”
“Troll?” Tatterhead rumbled. He turned away from the crowd and looked at Clancy with narrowed eyes. “Have you ever seen a troll, boy? Have you measured your strength against his, and found your muscles wanting?” He took a step toward Clancy, which put him right in the boy’s face. “Have you smelled the brushy fur, befouled with his own droppings, as he put his leathery fingers to your throat?”
Clancy swallowed hard. “No, sir.”
Tatterhead smiled. “Neither have I.”
Then he resumed his olfactory tour. He wasn’t sniffing everyone, though: only the women. Not even that, I realized. Only the girls. Only the ones around the same age as Isadora.
He stopped in front of Beatrice.
“She’s too old,” the head soldier said.
“I know,” Tatterhead replied. “But she’s close. Very close.”
“Close enough to geld you if you lay a hand on me,” Beatrice said defiantly.
“I mean you no harm, dear lady,” Tatterhead said.
“You could’ve fooled me. You burst in here, scare everyone, bring men with swords with you—”
“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong,” he said, and raised his chin to reveal a thick metal collar around his neck. “They brought me.”
He moved to Liz, sniffed again, and smiled. His eyes closed as he seemed to savor the aroma, the way a man might enjoy the odor of a fresh-cooked dinner. The comparison did not make me happy. He looked down at her and said, “I remember you. The lady with the dinner plates. Pretty.”
“Always happy to get good word of mouth,” she said, but her voice shook a little.