The sergeant ran back to tell the duchess what had passed, warning her that if she sent any more troops, they would likely find themselves tossed about through the air as well.
“I can see there is no defeating these great heroes,” she griped, “especially the one called Sam, with his mighty and admirable posture. My brothers are out of my clutches forevermore. Let us be finished with this business and be content!”
And so the twelve men passed out of Ecossia and into another tale.
Chapter Seventeen
The King and I
At first light, the other huntsmen filed into the stable. Sam was swept away in a bustle of greetings and preparations. Bows were strung, saddle pads were put in position, and everything was checked and rechecked to ensure a successful hunt without mishap or injury. King Gervase came in last, a pair of large brown dogs panting at his heels. The horses paid the dogs no mind, apparently long used to the commotion and noise of their smaller companions.
Somewhat to my surprise, Gervase strolled over to Poma’s stall, stopping to give her mane a ruffle. My intention was to learn more about my fiancé that day, but I hadn’t expected him to approach me so quickly or easily. I’d thought to observe him surreptitiously.
He did not speak for a few long moments. I waited for him to begin any conversation; my history with my stepmother had left me cautious around monarchs. I took the time to look him over as the seconds ticked by. He had traded his sumptuous court robes for practical hunting gear. It was expensive, richleather and close-knit wool, and the bejeweled circlet remained perched on his head, but it was clear he took hunting seriously and expected dirt, damp, and blood to be part ofit.
“I see you’ve met your horse,” he said. “Does she meet with your approval?”
“Very much so, Your Majesty. A fine animal. And well named.”
“That she is.”
He produced an apple of his own, and Poma leaned her head against him affectionately as she munched it. My horse was going to be too well fed to do more than waddle if anyone else came in with the same idea.
While Gervase appeared content to let the conversation end there, my need to give him a warning won out over my caution. “Listen. There’s something you should know.”
He regarded me curiously while I recounted the heavily fictionalized “oracular dream” that I’d already described to Sam—with both similar explanations and similar omissions.
Afterward, the king frowned. “If trying to interpret it is useless, and trying to avoid it is pointless, then I don’t see what’s to be done about it.”
I gave a helpless shrug. “Neither doI.”
“Then I suppose we should proceed as if—” He broke off as one of the dogs leapt on his leg in excitement. With an apologetic smile, he turned to bring it to heel, firmly but with no sign of impatience.
Fond of horses and dogs. There were worse recommendations for a future spouse.
“I’ve been wondering,” I said, “why you haven’t summoned me to discuss the wedding arrangements.”
His smile faltered for a moment. “Because I’ve been remiss in my duties.”
“I certainly didn’t mean to imply—”
He waved my objection aside. “I have. Your mistress will be here soon, I imagine?”
“Yes, I…suppose she will.”
Though I hadn’t been thinking about it when I brought the subject up, he had given me a reminder that there was only so long I could maintain my pretense. Suspicions would surely arise if the princess didn’t make an appearance before the snow made the roads impassable. The truth would have to come out then.
“I should see to my own steed,” Gervase said. “But we’ll talk about this more. Both the wedding and your prophetic dream. I promise you that.” He gave me a stiff nod and strode toward the stall of a large chestnut courser.
I decided I had best get a saddle on Poma. She waited patiently while I went through the process, and I was just tightening the girth when I heard a frosty voice behindme.
“So,” it said, “you’re a witch after all.”
“A sorceress,” I said as I turned around. “Not the same thing.”
One of the masked hunters was standing so close I flinched away. He was watching me through narrowed eyes. No hat, two legs, and he hadn’t launched any frogs atme.
“Jack?” I hazarded.
