‘Oh, I don’t know.’ I was beginning to sound vapid and I knew it.
She met my eyes squarely. ‘Well, I also think he was lured away, if not taken outright. I speculate that those who took him did not approve of the Queen’s plan for marrying him to the Outislander narcheska.’ She glanced away and added, ‘Nor do I.’
Those words gave me pause. It was the first hint that she was not unquestioning in her loyalty to the Queen. All Chade’s old training came to the fore, as I sought to see how deep her disagreement ran. Could she have had something to do with the Prince’s disappearance? ‘I am not sure that I agree with it myself,’ I replied, inviting her to say more.
‘The Prince is too young to be pledged to anyone,’ Laurel said forthrightly. ‘I have no confidence that the Out Islands are our best allies, let alone that they will remain true. How can they? They are little more than city-states scattered along the coast of a forbidding land. No one lord holds true power there, and they squabble constantly. Any alliance we make there is as like to draw us into one of their petty wars as to benefit us in trade.’
I was taken aback. She had obviously given this a great deal of thought, and in a depth I would not have expected of a huntswoman. ‘What would you favour, then?’
‘Were the decision mine – and well I know it is not – I would hold him back, in reserve as it were, until I saw surely what was happening, not just in the Out Islands but to the south as well, in Chalced and Bingtown and the lands beyond. There has been talk of war down there, and other wild tales. Dragons have been seen, they do say. Not that I believe all I hear, but dragons did come to the Six Duchies during the Red Ship War. I’ve heard those tales too often to set them aside. Perhaps they are attracted to war and the prey it offers them.’
To enlighten her in that regard would have required hours. I merely asked, ‘Then you would marry our prince off to a Chalcedean noblewoman, or a Bingtown Trader’s daughter?’
‘Perhaps it would be best for him to marry within the Six Duchies. There are some who mutter that the Queen is foreign-born, and that a second generation of a foreign queen might not be good.’
‘And you agree?’
She gave me a look. ‘Do you forget I am the Queen’s Huntswoman? Better a foreigner like her than some of the Farrow noblewomen I’ve had to serve in the past.’
Our talk died there for a time. We led the horses away from the river. I removed bits and let the animals graze. I was hungry myself. As if she could read my thoughts, Laurel dug into her saddlebag and came up with apples for us both. ‘I always carry food with me,’ she said as she offered it to me. ‘Some of the folk I’ve hunted for think no more of the comfort of their hunters than they do of their horses or dogs.’
I bit back a response that would have defended Lord Golden from such a charge. Best to let the Fool decide how he wished to present himself. I thanked her and bit into the apple. It was both tart and sweet. Myblack lifted her head suddenly.
Share? I offered her.
She flicked her ears at me disdainfully and went back to grazing.
A few days without me and he’s consorting with horses. I might have known. The wolf used the Wit without subtlety, startling me and spooking all three horses. ‘Nighteyes!’ I exclaimed in surprise. I looked around for him.
‘Beg pardon?’
‘My … dog. He’s followed me from home.’
Laurel looked at me as if I were mad. ‘Your dog? Where?’
Luckily for me, the great wolf had just come into view, slipping out of the shelter of the trees. He was panting, and he headed straight for the river to drink. Laurel stared. ‘That’s a wolf.’
‘He does look a great deal like a wolf,’ I conceded. I clapped my hands and whistled. ‘Here, Nighteyes. Here, boy.’
I’m drinking, you idiot. I’m thirsty. As you might be if you had trotted all the way here instead of riding a horse.
‘No,’ Laurel replied evenly. ‘That is not a dog that looks like a wolf. That is a wolf.’
‘I adopted him when he was very small.’ Nighteyes was still lapping. ‘He’s been a very good companion to me.’
‘Lady Bresinga may not welcome a wolf into her home.’
Nighteyes lifted his head suddenly, looked about, and then without a glance at me, slunk back into the woods. Tonight. He promised me in parting.
I’ll be on the other side of the river by tonight.
So will I. Trust me. Tonight.
Myblack had caught Nighteyes’ scent and was staring after him. She whickered uneasily. I looked back at Laurel and found her regarding me curiously.
‘I must have been mistaken. That was, indeed, a wolf. Looked a great deal like my dog, though.’
You’ve made me look like an idiot.
That wasn’t hard.
‘It was a very peculiar way for a wolf to behave,’ Laurel observed. She was still staring after him. ‘It’s been years since I’ve seen a wolf in these parts.’
I offered Myblack the apple core. She accepted it, and left a coating of green slime on my palm in return. Silence seemed the wisest choice.
‘Badgerlock! Huntswoman!’ Lord Golden summoned us from the roadside. In great relief, I led the horses over to him.
Laurel trailed us. As we approached him across the meadow, she made a small sound of approval in her throat. I glanced back at her in consternation. Her eyes were fixed on Lord Golden, but at my questioning glance, she quirked a small smile at me. I looked back at him.
Aware of our scrutiny, he all but struck a pose. I knew the Fool too well to be fooled by Lord Golden’s careless artifice. He knew how the wind off the river toyed with his golden locks. He had chosen his colours well, blues and white, and his elegant clothing was cut to complement his slender figure. He looked like a creature of sun and sky. Even carrying food bundled in a white linen napkin and a jug, he still managed to look elegantly aristocratic.
‘I’ve brought you a meal and drink so you’ll not be tempted to leave the horses untended,’ he told me. He handed me the napkin and the moisture beaded jug. Then he ran his eyes over Laurel and gave her an approving smile. ‘If the Huntswoman would enjoy it, I would be pleased to share a meal with her while we await those cursed waggons.’
The fleeting glance Laurel sent my way was laden with meaning. She begged my pardon for deserting me even as she was certain I could see this was too rare an opportunity for her to miss it.
‘I am certain I would enjoy it, Lord Golden,’ she replied, inclining her head. I took Whitecap’s reins before she could think to ask me. Lord Golden offered her his arm as if she were a lady. With only the slightest hesitation, she set her sun-browned fingers on the pale blue of his sleeve. He immediately covered her hand with his long, elegant fingers. Before they were three steps away from me, they were in deep conversation about game birds and seasons and feathers.
I closed my mouth, which had been hanging just slightly ajar. Reality re-ordered itself around me. Lord Golden, I suddenly realized, was every bit as complete and real a person as the Fool had been. The Fool had been a colourless little freak, jeering and sharp-tongued, who tended either to rouse unquestioning affection or abhorrence and fear in those who knew him. I had been among those who had befriended King Shrewd’s jester, and had valued his friendship as the truest bond two boys could share. Those who had feared his wickedly-barbed jests and been repulsed by his pallid skin and colourless eyes had been the vast majority of the castle folk. But just now an intelligent and I must admit, very attractive young woman had just chosen Lord Golden’s companionship over mine.
‘There’s