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AND TRULY THAT was so, since the castle was immense. The Esphanian Dynasty had thrived since the end of the Empire, and the castle had long outgrown its original keep and battlements, with wings added here and towers climbing out of corners, while storage facilities went down several levels into the solid rock of the cliff. Five generations ago the dungeons had been converted to house the wines laid down every year from the vineyards.

The village which had once clung merely to the skirts of the rocky heights on which the castle perched had turned into a good sized, prosperous city. It had several market squares, possessed craftsmen of high skill in every profession, and did very good foreign business.

The fertile farm lands and the wide river that led to the not too distant sea were well managed. Products from the orchards, fruit and nut, as well as from the vineyards on the mountain slopes, were prized in many parts of the world. Trade was profitable and, now that King Egdril had executed the coastal pirates, was in a period of expansion.

KING EGDRIL with his customary eagerness replied affirmatively to the prince's invitation, and Frenery, with a select group of chefs, equerries, kennelmen, dogs, and servants went to the proposed site in the Fial Valley to prepare suitable, if temporary, quarters.

Torquedy Vale was chosen without hesitation, for the area had not only a rushing river feeding a large and tranquil lake, but flat meadows for pitching tents and grazing horses as well as sufficient space in the forest glade to invisibly house the necessary small army of servitors such an expedition required for comforting amenities. Foresters were sent out to find barguas-trace so that the hunt could narrow its search and provide immediate sport.

Once Prince Jamas learned of the acceptance, he went through the lists of his chief nobles, selecting those to accompany him. Mangan had seen to it that Prince Jamas was sufficiently well acquainted with his subjects that he had no trouble choosing the most appropriate.

"Moxtell of Oria is too blind to be safe on a hunt…" Grenejon said as he took over Frenery's duties as secretary during the good man's absence.

"Ah, but he'll bring his three sons and two brothers with him, and they'd give a good account of themselves in a barguas hunt."

As his equerry added their names to the list, Jamas continued to stroke Niffy.

"True," agreed Grenejon dutifully.

"Besides, Moxtell might not see, but Mangan said that had interfered not at all with the old Earl's knowledge of what goes on about him."

"Hmm." Grenejon grinned. "Now, about the younger Fennells…"

"Be sure their uncle doesn't think he's included. That man needs a bridle for his tongue, and he's just the sort who'd delight in insulting His Eagerness just to have a bit of sport. Address the invitation to Lady Camilla and tell her that if her brother comes, we'll collect the fine he's been appealing in the courts. Doubled!"

"The one Mangan levied on his lands for his last insult?"

"The very one."

"Mangan taught you well, my Prince." Grenejon looked up, then, because Niffy's purr reached a louder pitch. "Are you taking her?"

"If she'll come," Jamas said, having just decided that she should. Niffy regarded him with her green eyes and smiled.

"How?"

"In my saddlebag, of course. Wouldn't risk her riding on my shoulder."

"Wise, considering the pace you usually ride at. Shouldn't wonder she'll join the hunt." Niffy smiled again.

WHEN THE ROYAL party arrived, fifty strong with a sufficient scattering of grayer heads among the young bloods to suggest that this wasn't a youthful escapade, they found all in order. Just as the dust settled, the honored guest and his entourage appeared from the opposite direction.

Prince Jamas saw that King Egdril's retinue included several fair ladies, mounted astride the fine-limbed horses that were bred on the Mauritian coastal plains. The horses' light brown coats and flaxen manes and tails made them particularly noticeable among the larger bays and blacks which the men of the party rode.

The girls were almost as noteworthy as their steeds. Dressed in hunting gear (although Jamas was not certain that barguas made appropriate prey for women), the three girls were certainly attractive: two brunettes and one stunning redhead whom Jamas immediately took to be as strong-minded and willful as that flamboyant coloration. She wore her mahogany hair in one thick plait down her back, where it dangled just above the can tie. That she sat the cavortings of her mount easily suggested to Jamas that she was going to insist on joining the hunt no matter what wiser heads might say.

Of the two brunettes, who had equally long plaits, one was already playing the coquette with Grenejon. The other merely watched, her eyes darting from one face to another.

A nudge from Baron Illify reminded Jamas that his first obligations were to his fellow ruler.

Jamas kneed his favorite chestnut stallion toward King Egdril and held out his hand.

Egdril was in his middle years, fit and spare of frame, one hand steady on the reins of his fractious mount, which snorted at the proximity of another stallion. The two rulers both nodded as they forced their horses to obey their leg aids and come to a halt side by side. Egdril had very white teeth in a tanned face, a carefully cropped beard that was more white than black, framing a strong face. His eyes took the measure of this young prince, and Jamas returned his forearm clasp with equal strength.

They both laughed at this initial test of each other's worth.

"We meet at last," Egdril said. "And at a splendid site," he added, twisting in his saddle to gaze around him at the tenting and visible accommodations. Servitors were already dashing forward with beakers of thirst-quenching beer.

Accepting his, Egdril took a swig and went on. "Let me make known to you my nieces," and he gestured to the three girls and winked broadly at Jamas.

"By all means, do," Jamas said with as broad a grin.

"The Baroness Salinah!" The redhead tilted her head gracefully, though she held her head high and proudly as she eyed the prince in a very open manner. "My deceased sister's only child. The Ladies Willow and Laurel are my widowed sister's daughters." The names evidently did not please Egdril. "My sons," and he made a broad gesture to bring two riders forward.

"Geroge is the elder and Mavron the cadet," the king said, and both men-older than Jamas and Grenejon and, to judge by the scars on their faces, warriors of some experience-made properly respectful short bows to the prince.

Then Jamas introduced the more important members of his entourage, Moxtell, whose male companions were eyeing the three girls, and the Fennells, whose uncle had seen the wisdom of remaining at home, and went down the rankings to Baron Illify.

"But now, Egdril, dismount and accept my hospitality. Our friends can mingle and get to know each other without more formality."

So they all swung down from their saddles and handed their horses over to the grooms awaiting them.

"He brought fifty, too, if you include the girls," Grenejon said in Jamas' ear.

"I can count."

"Oh, what's that?" cried red-headed Salinah as Niffy emerged from the saddlebag where she had made a comfortable journey and, leaping down, loped off into the nearest copse.

"My cat," Jamas said.

"Your cat?" Salinah's tone was a combination of distaste and contempt.

"Your cat?" The echo came from the lips of the brunette, Laurel, and her voice combined surprise with interest.

"You and your cats, Laurel," Salinah said. "Can't abide the creatures."

"You prefer dogs?" Jamas asked politely enough, but he had lost all other interest in the girl.

"There is a use for them," she said and then turned her head in the direction of the excited barking of the great, shaggy barguas-hunting dogs. "May I?"