“Of course,” I smirked, “we’re not going to do that?”
He smiled, too. “Why would we let whoever is waiting up there see us and be warned? Hell, they might resent us riding up on them. We just need to see who it is before barging in on them and having a few choice words.”
He veered off and quickly followed a game-trail heading in the right direction. Springer now took the lead, and we followed, one behind the other. I brought up the rear and called softly to the carriage, “The village up ahead is Cushing Corners.”
Tater added, “We’re upstream of them. The creek and campground we want should be right ahead.”
We located it, and the carriage pulled off the road into a clearing that spread beside the creek. As we set up camp, the two boys introduced themselves. The carriage horses were unhitched and chomping on the lush grass beside a bubbling stream. It was the sort of place where I’d always wanted to build myself a small cabin and enjoy it with a tall, honey-colored haired girl.
I rode Alexis in a full circle around the campsite making an inspection, then climbed down. The two boys were gathering firewood while Elizabeth and Kendra spread blankets below the carriage where they would sleep, using it as a tent. Springer leaped, licked, and generally made a pest of himself as he reacquainted himself with the boys.
Kendra pulled away and acted as if to touch the mutt was similar to touching bloated, ten-day-old rotted carcasses. To my surprise, Elizabeth knelt and welcomed the ugly dog. She was careful not to touch the open wound on the hind leg, but otherwise, she seemed to like the poor thing. I’d never seen her treat another dog in the same manner. She pointed to a piece of baggage and told Kendra to get her medical kit from it. Then my princess sat in the dirt and applied salve to the wound.
When announced that Tater and I were going into the village, nobody reacted more than to say good-bye. I didn’t wish to warn or upset them about what we were attempting to do, and until we knew who rode a pair of royal horses in the attempt to travel past us unaware, I decided to keep my mouth shut.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Tater and I left the campsite after caring for our horses and staking them in a place with plenty to eat. We intended to walk to the inn and return before dark. Walking wouldn’t attract the attention riding in on horses would. Tater’s pack horse wore a special saddle made for carrying bulky loads. He didn’t bother unpacking it before gesturing with his thumb to ask if I was ready.
We left on foot, following the stream, or at minimum keeping it on our right where there were marshy places to walk. The high bank provided cover. We smelled smoke before seeing buildings, and then my stomach growled as my nose recognized meat cooking.
We didn’t speak as we moved closer. Pastures and small farms surrounded the inn and community, the farmers probably deriving a decent income from selling meat and vegetables to the inn. However, Tater angled off to one side to prevent us from being seen, and I realized that instead of entering the inn from the front, he intended to look in the pole-barn, first. He kept the barn between us and the road.
Still, we felt exposed. Any farmer looking our way couldn’t help but see us slinking around. A dog might run our way at any time. We silently moved from pasture to pasture, and then to one side of the pole barn, where we slipped around the corner and inside. Six horses were in the stalls.
It took only an instant to ascertain that none of them were from the royal herd.
Confused, I said, “Were you wrong about the hoofprints?”
He gave me a glare that said I should shut up. The two may simply have ridden past the inn and were spending the night somewhere else. We entered via a side door and were greeted by a man who, if judged by his red nose, had emptied a lot of mugs of his own ale. He glowered at us. In response, I nudged his mind gently with my magic, just the slightest touch, giving him a more humorous outlook on life. He smiled and asked what we wanted to drink.
We ordered two tankards of sour ale that turned out to be unfit for people to drink, at least not those with the ability to taste. Handing mine back, I asked for white wine, instead. The innkeeper poured the sludge he called ale back into the barrel, possibly explaining the reason for some of the foul taste and reached for a pitcher on a shelf. The wine was worse than the ale.
Tater finished his mug and wiped his lips with the back of a filthy sleeve and said, “You going to drink that?”
I shook my head.
He pulled my mug of wine closer to him, took a long swig, and turned to the innkeeper. “We’re trying to catch up with a couple of people who went through here today.”
The bartender smiled. “Boy and girl? In a hurry?”
Tater looked at me. I shrugged.
Tater, always deceptive and sneaky, said, “Can you describe them?”
The innkeeper smiled evilly. He was teasing Tater in some way. It shouldn’t have made him so happy and was getting irritating. I considered causing an errant bee flying inside the inn and stinging him.
He said, “You mean how tall, the color of hair, that sort of thing?”
“Yes, sure,” Tater said, looking at me for agreement.
The innkeeper placed his hand to his chin and tugged on his beard a time or two. He fought back laughter as he said, “Well, let me see. The boy came up to about here. Nice clothes, better than I’ve ever worn, but what else would you expect Lord Kent to wear?”
“Lord Kent?” I exploded, no longer waiting to smile at the expected joke. That was it. Instead of laughing, anger filled me. The simpering fool who had tried courting Lady Elizabeth only this morning was the mysterious rider, or at least half the pair. We should have guessed. We’d already discussed his sudden “illness” and the traveling food he’d requested from the kitchen, but it still took me by surprise.
The innkeeper grinned merrily, and his eyes danced in response to his wit. “Yes sir, Lord Kent himself and that Princess Anna was with him. Do you want me to describe her too?”
I controlled my temper and placed a full copper penny on the table, far more than the cost of the wine and ale, while the innkeeper cackled. I took Tater by his arm and pulled him outside so fast Tater barely had time to finish my wine on the way. He sat the mug on the last table we passed and hurried outside.
Another question came to me, and conflict filled me as if we should enter the inn again or rush back to tell Elizabeth with what we’d discovered so we could discuss the ramifications. While I wanted to do the latter, I returned to the inn. To Tater, I said, “Stay here.”
Back inside the door, the innkeeper examining the coin I’d overpaid for the ale, and he was still laughing softly to himself. I removed the happy-spell, and his face drew tighter. I called, “When did they leave?”
“Just about when you got here. You almost caught them at the barn. Surprised you didn’t. When they saw you two sneaking up here across the fields, my guess was they rushed out there to greet you.” His thumb pointed to the single small window that looked out over the pastures we’d crossed.
The answer stilled me. My voice failed. The innkeeper decided that was the funniest thing he’d heard in a long while. Without my help, his peals of laughter followed me outside where Tater stood.
“They saw us through the window,” I snapped as if it was Tater’s fault. His hurt expression made me second-think it. I quickly relented, “Never mind that, it was my responsibility, not yours.”
He walked behind as we headed back. After a few steps, he said in a serious way, “Takes a big man to say he was wrong. Don’t think I’ve ever done it.”