Aurelia

by Anne Osterlund

  "Asleep?" she gave robert the chance to correct himself.

  "As a drunken rooster."

  "don't play verbal games with me." she slapped another high card on the table. "That driver on the road last night came around the corner in a reckless manner. He or she should have reported the incident to the authorities."

  robert picked up the card with a painful slowness and began a new round. "I would have thought so myself, but nothing has been reported. Apparently the driver does not want to be identified."

  doubt spiked through her chest. If robert had lied about Chris, he might be lying now. "Then we must see that the driver is found," she snapped. "He or she shouldn't be allowed to endanger other lives."

  "I agree. However, I doubt the palace guards have enough time to investigate the disappearance of a reckless carriage driver. perhaps I should ask in the city myself. I believe I could describe the horses well enough so someone who knows them might recognize them."

  "I suppose that would be a decent start," she acknowledged grudgingly.

  "you don't know who in the city might be a good horseman or horsewoman to ask?" robert probed. "perhaps someone familiar with the upper classes as well as the horses that come in and out of the city gates?"

  she floundered, not able to come up with an ulterior motive behind his offer. "There are several people," she finally said, then gave him the best suggestion she could, "but I'd start with drew Fielding. daria's father asks him for breeding advice, and I know drew advises many upper-class families looking for strong teams. He runs the gamut on horseflesh. spends plenty of time fleecing commoners at the city racecourse as well. And he'd probably like to talk to you anyway. He loves to hear about horse breeding in other regions of the kingdom."

  The clock chimed eleven and robert stood up. "Listen, if I'm going to go find this Fielding, I need to leave." He placed the winning card on the table. An ace of hearts.

  she stared, stunned, unable to shake the feeling that he had won more than the game.

  Twenty minutes later, a commoner rode out through the palace gates.

  At least he was dressed as a commoner. Comfortable in his own worn shirt, trousers, and buckskin jacket, robert guided his personal mount onto a dirt trail skirting the western half of Tyralt City. According to a talkative groom, the place to be was a local horse fair, and robert assumed drew Fielding would be there.

  The fairgrounds were located in the northeast corner of town, not far from the main gate. robert could have walked straight there as quickly as he could ride around the city circumference, but he preferred to avoid the heavy traffic of wagons and carriages cluttering the main road.

  The famous Tyralian wall rose up on his left, its protective layers of stone reaching as high as the palace tower. The wall swept out from behind the palace, traced its way down the slope and around the front of the city, disappeared along the waters of the bay, and climbed back up the hill to complete the circle. Tyralian peasants had built the wall more than five hundred years before, and robert pitied the invading armies that had broken themselves and their weapons upon the impenetrable stone.

  His horse, Horizon, broke into a canter beside the wall's edge, and robert allowed the three-year-old stallion to enjoy the run down the sparsely populated slope before pulling his mount to a safer brisk walk at the edge of the marketplace. The powerful bay slowed reluctantly, and Robert maintained a firm grip for the next hundred feet. Horizon was not opposed to depositing a rider on the ground when asked to do something unpleasant.

  The marketplace eventually gave way to tenement buildings. grim faces stared out from rickety staircases and stained windows. robert guided Horizon closer to the Tyralian wall, hoping to avoid the downward path of refuse or emptied bedpans. broken carts and wagon pieces littered the alleyways, and dirt smeared everything, even the wet laundry connecting each row of buildings with the next.

  "excuse me, mister, do you have a coin to spare?" A ragged boy stretched out a hand toward Horizon. The stallion backed away, and robert leaned forward to press a few coins into the grimy palm.

  A sudden flood of skinny bodies with outstretched hands scrambled out from behind corners and doors. Children surrounded him, pressing close, with no regard for their own safety in the face of the stallion's sharp hooves. robert struggled to calm his horse as high voices raised in begging pleas.

  "A copper! A copper!"

  "For my family, mister."

  "For my hungry baby sister."

  "please, mister."

  "please, please!"

  He emptied his pocket and shouted a warning to the children before urging Horizon forward. robert felt thankful when the inns and taverns near the main gate replaced the tenements. He had seen poverty before. No one on the frontier had much in the way of material goods, but here the poverty felt raw, the lives of the poor standing out in stark contrast to those of the nearby aristocracy.

  Horizon whistled with excitement as he passed the city stables and approached the horse fair. A roped-off boundary came into view, and robert dismounted, shortening the reins.

  He had no intention of providing a horse thief with the lift of a lifetime.

  robert descended into the fair's shifting sea of shoving elbows and stomping boots. Cajoling voices of horse traders glided under the demanding questions of potential buyers. prices swung like dying pendulums, the distance between both ends narrowing toward the center. unbridled children, grown feral with their parents' neglect, pounded after one another, ducking dangerously under horses and humans alike, then popping up just long enough to spot their fellow predators and prey. draped over everything hung the humid smell of hay, manure, and horseflesh.

  robert strained to identify a horse worth the attention of a genuine horseman. Filtering through dozens of pack and cart horses, he focused on a full team tied to a single hitching post. Here, at least, was a place to start.

  passing an elderly man swamped with questions from interested customers, robert approached a skinny girl standing in the background. The girl's dress was smeared with dirt and her shoes were covered in manure; but her head was up, and her eyes were watchful. she had spotted his approach before he opened his mouth, and she eyed him as if she thought he might be planning to pilfer her charges. "excuse me, miss," he inquired. "Could you tell me where I might find a man named drew Fielding?"

  "Drew?" she arched an eyebrow. "Well, we haven't seen much of him this mornin', but he shouldn't be difficult to find. He doesn't blend into the crowd, does he?" Her eyes danced.

  "He doesn't?" The comment aroused robert's curiosity. "I'm afraid I don't know him. In what way does he stand out?"

  The girl grinned cheekily. "Well, if you haven't met him, it wouldn't do much good to explain. I would head over toward the plum tent in the center of the field." she motioned toward a bright purple tent about a hundred feet behind her. "He's wearin' a black hat today with a red feather in it. That ought to be enough information for you to find him."

  With thanks for her help and a renewed sense of curiosity, robert plunged back into the crowd. He emerged close enough to the purple tent to see a lopsided group gathered around a table in the violet shade. On one side of the table, six or seven people collected coins and jotted down information from the swarm on the other side. A gambling center, robert decided.

  The sight of a vocal crowd member ripped all other thoughts from his mind. The man's head towered eight to ten inches above the throng, and on it rested a roguish black hat graced with an ostentatious red feather. This, then, must be drew Fielding.

  robert had to laugh when he thought of the girl's taunting comment about this man not blending in. He certainly did not.

  In fact, drew resembled nothing so much as robert's childhood impression of a gentleman pirate. His skin was charcoal black and gleamed against a silk shirt, tight vest, and tawny trousers. With the exception of a pair of grass-stained boots, the entire outfit shone spotless despite the chaotic surroundings. Tied securely back, the man
's dark hair hung below his shoulders, and a single ruby earring sparkled from his left ear.

  robert found himself conceding yet another round to Aurelia. she might have mentioned that the man stood out from the general populace like a bird of paradise in a daisy patch.

  suddenly the flamboyant horseman appeared at robert's side or, rather, appeared directly in front of Horizon. The man's eyes assessed the stallion, gliding over the black mane, drifting along the sleek red neck, halting on the powerful chest and shoulder muscles, sliding down the smooth forearms and over the black lower legs.

  "I say, lad, fresh off the frontier, eh?" Fielding said.

  robert chafed at the moniker, but adopted a slight frontier drawl and replied, "Fresh enough." The horseman could not be fifteen years his elder.

  "Interesting mount you have here. Thinking of trading him for something better for the city?"

  Don't you wish. "matter of fact, I've seen an interesting stallion. Thought maybe someone here could direct me to the owner."

  Fielding's head snapped back. "someone direct you to me, did they? And here I thought I was the one who started this conversation."

  "Hmm," robert replied, "I thought a fine horse was the only thing could start a conversation with a fine horseman."

  The wary look disappeared from the other man's eyes and a loud laugh whooshed out of his lungs. At robert's shoulder, Horizon snorted in response and took a step back. Fielding moved a step forward, keeping his short distance from the stallion. "Now, that's a truth I can't deny." He met the horse's stare. "you are the one who started this conversation."

  Without breaking his gaze with Horizon, drew spoke again to robert. "All right, lad, I'll direct you to this stallion that's caught your interest, in exchange for a little information about your mount here. What do you say?"

  "Fair enough."

  "Not here, though." drew gestured to the left. "I've had enough time in these crowded surroundings. Let's have a drink in my tent and share our information in a more comfortable location."

  robert looked up hesitantly at Horizon. "I'm not leaving him alone, nor in anyone else's charge."

  drew slapped robert on the back. "Can't say I blame you, lad. got to admit I'd be tempted to make off with him myself. If you can control him, bring him right into the tent with you. It's big enough, and we can't be excluding him from the conversation anyway, now, can we?"

  The noisy crowd parted magically as Fielding led the way toward a white canvas tent propped on ten-foot poles. The heavy canvas draped to the ground on three and a half sides, with one corner flung up to provide a doorway.

  Horizon balked at the tent flap. powerful chest muscles rose above robert's head as the stallion reared, threatening the entire structure. drew moved to help, but robert stopped him. "Hold back. He's not reliable with strangers." As the stallion dropped down, robert grabbed the side of the bridle and glared at his mount. Cocky horse came all the way through the crowd but chose this moment to attract attention.

  Confident that Horizon was finished with his minor revolt, robert guided him into an almost barren retreat. several folded wooden chairs rested against the pole by the opening, and a painted white box stood two feet high in the center of the tent like an ivory monument.

  Fielding set up his own chair beside the box and motioned for robert to do the same. Not too much of a gentleman to do his own work and not enough of a gentleman to do the work of others.

  While robert struggled to find a smooth surface for his own chair, his host slipped a hand into the box and produced a bottle of cheap white wine.

  robert shook his head.

  The man reached back in and took out a bottle of Favinoit. robert struggled not to grin. drew placed a glass in front of his guest.

  "No, thank you." robert said, fully aware he was rejecting the best wine in the kingdom. "Too early in the day for me." He never drank alcohol but found this response gained fewer comments.

  Fielding arched an eyebrow but put the extra glass away and motioned toward Horizon. "Well then, lad, to our discussion. Where'd you find this temperamental masterpiece?"

  "raised him myself, on the frontier."

  robert launched into his own question without pause. "I'm looking for a big black stallion, saw him leading a team of six." Leaving out all the circumstances of his observation, he went on to describe the stallion with the scar, the other team members, and the carriage. "seemed like that stallion would do anything for his driver," robert ended. "put his life in danger charging right up to the edge of a cliff, just shifting direction at the last moment."

  Throughout the explanation, drew remained silent, seating himself in his chair. He now pushed the chair back, away from robert. "Noticed that, did you?" drew said. "And that devotion to the driver attracted you to that horse?" He took a deep breath. "Well, lad, I can tell you here and now you aren't going to talk the owner out of that stallion. might sound hard, but there's more to a good horse than obedience. If you think obedience without common sense makes a fine mount, you'll never be much of a horseman."

  Ignoring the slight, robert goaded, "How can you be sure I can't get the horse if you don't know who the owner is?"

  "Here now." The older man leaned back, propping his boots up on the white box. "I didn't say I don't know the owner. It's because I do know the owner, and the horse as well, that I told you what I just did. That team belongs to the queen's own stables. Not at the palace, but her personal stables back in midbury. Nobody but the queen herself selects those horses."

  Crash!

  Noise clattered through the tent. drew and robert sprang to their feet, whirling to face the entryway. scattered at the foot of the tent pole lay the remaining foldable chairs, toppled from their perch. standing above them in the open doorway was Aurelia Lauzon, princess of Tyralt, her face drained of color except for the streak of a bulging red vein running from jaw to collarbone.

  Chapter Five

  HONESTY

  THAT TEAM BELONGS TO THE QUEEN'S OWN STABLES.

  drew's words repeated in Aurelia's mind, penetrating her thoughts, her conscience, her self-control. There was something ominous about that team. she could not shake the image of those broad black chests and pounding hooves. Nobody but the queen herself selects those horses.

  "Aurelia?" robert said.

  "Well, if it isn't Her majesty in the flesh, or rather in disguise," drew boomed, referring to the white cap, baggy shirt, and worn trousers adorning her body.

  robert stared at her as if in shock. No doubt he was. but his shock paled in comparison to hers. she had tried to convince herself that his lie about Chris was not important; but now she saw it for what it really was, a small slip in an attempt to hide a larger truth that the accident had been no accident. Her instincts were correct. The horses had charged. And those horses belonged to the queen. Aurelia could not deal with the implications, not while robert was staring at her. she whirled and fled.

  "Aurelia, wait!" she could hear robert coming after her. "Wait!"

  Her lithe body slipped into the crowd, and she took advantage of the chaos filling the path. dodging water troughs, bales of fresh hay, and picnic supplies, she zigzagged through the fairgrounds. Twice she thought she had lost him only to have his dark head flash into view.

  perhaps he would give up in the tangle of side streets. she burst from the crowd, ducked under the rope barrier, and darted into an alley, where her strategy unraveled. Once he was free of the throng, robert's speed and stamina became a factor. The thudding of his footsteps sped up and, less than five buildings down, a strong hand closed around her upper left arm and swung her to a halt. she fought for a second, gave up, and rested her hands on her hips.

  For minutes they just breathed, measuring each other with their eyes. she struggled to gain a grasp on her senses. "All right, you stopped me. Now talk." He was the one who should have something to say. Not only had he lied to her, but judging from what she had overheard, he had lied to drew as well.

 
robert glanced down the empty street as if searching for an answer, then stated the obvious in a controlled voice. "I want to know why you ran away just now." still avoiding the truth. Well, he should not have bothered to come after her, then.

  "And you thought chasing me down and restraining me would explain that for you?" she snarled.

  kicking a piece of broken glass, he met her gaze. "I am more patient than you, Aurelia. I can wait here all day."

  The comment needled her. He would wait there, pretending to be the one who did not know what was going on. she paced back and forth on the cobblestones, emotions warring in her chest. Fine, then. If he insisted on stating the obvious, she could as well. "I ran because I was angry."

  He waited.

  she took a rattling breath. "With you."

  "Only with me?"

  Another breath. The coolness of his question was maddening. "I don't know. maybe someday you'll decide to tell me." The accusation sliced into the tight air.

  For a moment his face flickered as if he was losing his sense of control, but the words coming from his mouth remained infuriatingly calm. "Let's retrace our day. I saw you this morning. We talked. you told me to ask drew Fielding about horses. I looked up mr. Fielding. you arrived, heard a few comments, and hurtled your way off the fairgrounds into an alley." He waited again.

  How dare he patronize her? "Why don't you try that again? maybe you'll achieve your goal of making me sound like the problem." still he said nothing. she turned and began walking away. "Let me know when you feel like telling the truth. Otherwise enjoy your stay in the capital."

  she walked slowly at first, trying her best to maintain an aura of calm, hoping deep down that he would stop her and admit he had lied. That he would apologize and tell her what he really knew about last night.