smiled self-consciously. ‘It was easy enough, Kulgan, I just kept my mind focused on something.’
‘What?’
‘Capital punishment.’
Kulgan laughed, a sharp barking sound, then said, ‘Very well, but the potential for disaster would be as high for the Princess, too, Pug. A citybred noblewoman of the eastern court may indulge herself in as many lovers of any rank that she can enjoy while maintaining discretion, but the only daughter of a frontier duke who is so closely related to the king has no such luxury. She must be above suspicion in all things. Even suspicion could harm Carline. One who cares for her would take that into consideration. Do you understand?’
Pug nodded, fully relieved now that he had resisted temptation the night before.
‘Good, I know you’ll be careful in the future.’ Kulgan smiled. ‘And don’t mind old Tully. He’s just cross because the Duke ordered him to stay behind. He still thinks he’s as young as his acolytes. Now run along and get ready. Dawn’s less than an hour away.’
Pug nodded and hurried off, leaving Kulgan to regard the piles of books before him. With regret he picked the nearest one up and placed it on a nearby shelf. After a moment he grabbed another and stuffed it into a sack. ‘Just one won’t cause any harm,’ he said to the invisible specter of Tully shaking his head in disapproval. He put the rest of the books back on the shelf, save the last volume, which he shoved into the sack. ‘All right, then,’ he said defiantly, ‘two!’
• CHAPTER EIGHT •
Journey
A LIGHT WET SNOW WAS FALLING.
Pug shivered under his greatcloak, sitting astride his horse. He had been in the saddle for the last ten minutes, waiting as the rest of the Duke’s company made ready.
The courtyard filled with hurrying, shouting men, lashing supplies onto the balky mules of the baggage train. Dawn was just commencing, giving the courtyard a little color instead of the blacks and grey that had greeted Pug when he came from the tower. Porters had already carried his baggage down and were securing it among the other items being brought along.
A panicked ‘Whoa!’ erupted behind Pug, and he turned to see Tomas pulling frantically at the reins of a spirited bay, his head tossing high. Like Pug’s own sleek, light war-horse, he was a far cry from the old draft animal they had ridden to the site of the shipwreck. ‘Don’t pull so hard,’ Pug shouted. ‘You’ll saw at his mouth and make him mad. Pull back gently and release a couple of times.’
Tomas did, and the horse quieted down, moving alongside Pug’s own. Tomas sat as if the saddle had nails sticking through it. His face was a study in concentration as he tried to guess what the horse would do next.
‘If you hadn’t been walking post yesterday, you could have gone riding, getting in some practice. Now I’ll have to teach you as we go.’
Tomas looked thankful for the promise of aid. Pug smiled. ‘By the time we reach Bordon, you’ll be riding like the King’s Lancers.’
‘And walking like a ruptured spinster.’ Tomas shifted in the saddle. ‘Already I feel like I’ve been sitting on a stone block for hours. After just a little way from the saddling post.’
Pug jumped down from his horse and looked over Tomas’s saddle, making Tomas move his leg so he could examine under the saddle flap, then asked, ‘Who saddled this horse for you?’
‘Rulf. Why?’
‘I thought so. He’s paying you back for threatening him about that sword, or because we’re friends. He doesn’t dare threaten me anymore, now that I’m a Squire, but he thinks nothing of knotting your stirrup leathers. A couple of hours riding like this, and you’d be standing at meals for a month, if you didn’t get pitched on your head and killed. Here, get down and I’ll show you.’
Tomas dismounted, halfway between a leap and a fall. Pug showed him the knots. ‘They would have rubbed the inside of your thighs raw by the end of the day. And they’re not long enough.’ Pug took out the knots and adjusted the leathers to the proper length. ‘It’s going to feel very strange for a while, but you’ve got to keep your heels down. I’ll remind you until you’re sick of hearing it, but it’ll keep you out of trouble when you do it without thought. And don’t try to grip with your knees; that’s wrong, and it’ll make your legs so sore, you’ll hardly be able to walk by tomorrow.’ He went on with a few basic instructions and inspected the cinch, which was loose. He tried tightening it, and the horse sucked air. Pug struck the gelding a blow in the side, and the animal exhaled sharply. Pug quickly pulled the cinch strap and said, ‘Sometime today, you most likely would have found yourself listing to one side, a most discomforting position.’
‘That Rulf!’ Tomas turned toward the stable. ‘I’ll thrash him within an inch of death!’
Pug grabbed his friend’s arm. ‘Wait. We don’t have time for brawling.’
Tomas stood with fists clenched, then relaxed with a relieved sigh. ‘I’m in no condition for fighting, anyway.’ He turned to see Pug inspecting the horse.
Pug shook his head, then winced. ‘Me too.’ He finished inspecting the saddle and bridle, and the horse shied. Pug gentled the horse. ‘Rulf’s also given you a temperamental mount. This fellow would have probably thrown you before noon, and be halfway back to the stable before you hit the ground. With sore legs and shortened stirrup leathers, you never would have stood a chance. I’ll trade with you.’ Tomas looked relieved and struggled into the saddle of the other horse. Pug readjusted the stirrups for both riders. ‘We can swap our travel rolls when we take our noon meal.’ Pug then soothed the high-strung war-horse and climbed nimbly into the saddle. Feeling surer hands at the reins, and a firm leg on either side, the gelding quieted.
‘Ho! Martin,’ shouted Tomas as the Duke’s Huntmaster walked into view. ‘Are you traveling with us?’
A wry grin split the face of the hunter, who was wearing his heavy green cloak over his forester’s leathers. ‘For a short while, Tomas. I’m to lead some trackers around the boundaries of Crydee. I’ll be heading due eastward when we come to the south branch of the river. Two of my trackers were on their way an hour ago, breaking trail for the Duke.’
‘What do you think of this Tsurani business, Martin?’ Pug asked.
The still-youthful Huntmaster’s face clouded. ‘If elves are given to worry, there is something to worry over.’ He turned toward the front of the assembling line. ‘Excuse me, I must instruct my men.’ He left the boys sitting alone.
Pug asked Tomas, ‘How’s your head this morning?’
Tomas made a face. ‘About two sizes smaller than when I awoke.’ His face brightened a bit. ‘Still, the excitement seems to have stopped the banging inside. I feel almost good.’
Pug gazed at the keep. Memories of his encounter last night kept tugging at his mind, and suddenly he regretted the need to travel with the Duke.
Tomas noticed his friend’s pensive mood and said, ‘Why so glum? Aren’t you excited about going?’
‘It’s nothing. Just thinking.’
Tomas studied Pug for a moment. ‘I think I understand.’ With a deep sigh, he sat back in the saddle, and his horse stamped and nickered. ‘I, for one, am glad to be leaving. I think Neala has tumbled to that little matter we spoke of yesterday.’
Pug laughed. ‘That will teach you to be mindful of who you escort into pantries.’
Tomas smiled sheepishly.
The doors to the keep opened, and the Duke and Arutha came out, accompanied by Kulgan, Tully, Lyam, and Roland. Carline followed, with Lady Marna behind. The Duke and his companions made their way to the head of the column, but Carline hurried down to where Pug and Tomas sat. As she passed,