She placed her two fingers together again, and this time pointed them at me—like a dagger. They didn’t tremble or shake. They were calmer and more controlled than I could manage. Her voice lowered and at the same time became intense. “It looked at me. Only me.”
There are times when the bravest man will back down from a slip of a girl. “Anything else?”
“It greeted me.”
I’d watched it, too, but hadn’t seen anything in its actions to call a greeting. The wyvern hadn’t waved or done anything else that would be termed a greeting. While considering how to ask for more information, I heard the pounding of hooves. Turning back to the trail, Tater was almost upon us to help find the horse we were supposed to be chasing. “We’ll talk later.”
She mounted and wheeled her horse and rode it back up the hillside until she reached Princess Elizabeth’s side. She didn’t look back at me once in her anger.
Tater and I rode together. He said, “We’ll see a lot more of the dragons when we get closer. The horses need to get over their fear.”
“What about me?” I asked. “And my fear?”
He laughed, thinking it was a joke. When we reached my sister and the princess, they were already mounted and ready to depart, but neither spoke. The packhorses were again tied together. Tater and we fell into our positions. We departed with the dog running at my side.
Kendra’s words haunted me. How does a flying wyvern greet someone? The word sounded positive, like hello, good to see you. That’s a greeting. So much had happened so fast I hadn’t even asked Tater about him running away if that’s what he did. He may have been chasing a packhorse, but I doubted it.
Tater took the lead again, and my horse followed directly behind—at a distance too far for him to spit on me. His hair hung in greasy strings, he smelled like five-day-old fish, but I was beginning to like him more and more. Despite his appearance, he kept a protective eye on Kendra and Elizabeth, anticipating their needs and calling breaks when they required privacy to pee or take a rest-break.
He didn’t talk except to convey information. That may seem like a small thing, but it gave me time to think as we rode, time to try and collect the relevant information and tie it together like Elizabeth did. She’d take two seemingly unrelated tidbits and combine them into one concrete fact. I often saw the same two tidbits—and they remained unrelated in my mind.
Under her tutelage, I was improving. My ears and eyes noticed more oddities, now. If a maid took a certain route from her workplace to her room daily, and she took a different route today, my mind went to work. She hadn’t taken the new route unless she had a reason and knowing that reason gave me leverage on her or someone she knew. She might be seeking her lover or delivering a message, or perhaps she knew where the cooks hid the best cheese.
That was the essence of palace intrigue. It was not what you knew, but what you could do with that information once it was in hand. Could you sell it for a future return of a better rumor? Could you bribe someone, or promise them a tidbit in return, or threaten them? Best of all, could you use the information to help someone important with their own intrigue, so that they were obliged to return the favor to you?
One of the most powerful phrases in the language is: Remember when I . . . for you? What it was, did not matter. Lay on a little recall combined with a touch of guilt and top it off with unspoken promises of what else you might know, and you had a stew that tasted rich.
While I’d been lost in thought, we had moved higher into the foothills. I looked behind and saw the wide valley with the inn, where the road crossed Cushing Creek. My butt was getting tired and sore. When we started up the next hill, I dismounted and walked for a while. Alexis seemed to appreciate not carrying me up the grade. She walked behind and snorted on my bare neck twice, a sure sign of her satisfaction and affection for me.
Yes, that was another convenient lie for me. Alexis didn’t snort when satisfied, but it made me feel better to think she did. At the top of the ridge, we paused. At an unspoken command, both women dismounted. Kendra took the reins of both horses as Elizabeth strode in my direction. Kendra came after me and held out her hand to take the reins of my horse, then she moved a few steps away, leaving Elizabeth “alone” with me. She wouldn’t snort on my neck either. The entire incident left me wary and apprehensive.
Kendra fell back six paces, the same distance I normally walked behind Elizabeth during formal outings. She remained close enough to hear us, but far enough away to stay out of the coming conversation. I was about to be manipulated again and could think of no manner of defense.
Elizabeth started walking faster as her legs loosened up and I fought to keep pace with her. She threw her arms wide and stretched in the cold mountain air. The actions were ones of comfort, friendliness, and ways to figuratively embrace me. It was the prelude to attempting flagrant manipulation. She had taught me well.
However, her actions had the opposite effect because of knowing what she was doing. My wide smile was intended to show I was buying into her performance.
“It is a beautiful day,” she said, throwing her head back and looking up at the sky to expose her neck, an unconscious sign of revealing complete trust—unless done on purpose to draw someone closer and build their relationship while readying them for the slaying. Farmers used the same technique in chicken coops. They never look at the one they’re going to have for dinner.
One of the horses behind me snuffled, and my awareness decided it was Alexis warning me to be careful. “Yes, it is,” I agreed with the princess.
“You are wearing your sword today.”
She had noticed earlier, of course, yet another might have asked why instead of simply making mention. Best to play the game with her. “There are unknowns in these mountains, and they make me uneasy. Being prepared to protect you is one of my duties.”
We walked in silence for a while. She gradually moved closer, more conspiratorially and intimate. My limp hand at my side almost brushed her leg. She said, “You attract the attention of many women, lately.”
The comment didn’t sound derogatory or critical. But now that she had eased my mind with her gestures and taken me into her confidence, she was getting to her point, one I didn’t see or understand, so this was no time to relax.
“From the women in the palace,” she said as if having to explain that to me. “They notice you.”
There. She said it. I attracted attention from women. My mind considered what she might mean by that. I believed myself reasonably handsome, my long hair and neatly trimmed beard were things of pride. My height was a bit taller than most men, and I was built slighter, which means I’m quick and agile instead of muscular. The Weapons-Master trained me in the use of weapons, so I could properly protect Elizabeth. He said my abilities excelled in the use of swords, bows, and fists. My punches were not as powerful as some, but my speed enabled me to throw more to compensate for that.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” my tone was purposefully puzzled.
“Your sister and I have been talking. We need to begin changing the perception of you in Crestfallen Palace from that of a scamp to a young man of quality so you can better serve in the higher rankings of royalty without raising eyebrows.”
Since she attended very few of those social engagements, the immediate question became why did she care? She could have told me outright, but she was indirectly telling me something else. Testing me. “My actions and appearance are often contrived and restrained, as you well know. While serving you, I am also your eyes and ears among the freemen and servants of the palace. If my persona changed into that of a man of quality, as you say, I would blend in well with the upper castes. However, I would lose my abilities to interact with those palace servants who provide us the most benefit, or am I mistaken?”