One person.
Well, go on in. What harm can one person do?
The stable was still dark inside. Seastrider approached it warily, the other three crowding close, their ears laid back, their movements tense, ready to strike.
Teb stepped in quietly, filled with fear that someone had seen them in the sky.
Yet it was still very dark. And no one could have beaten them back to the stable. He lit a lamp far down the alleyway. He filled the water and feed buckets, patted Seastrider on the rump, pushed her toward her stall. She turned at once to stare back toward the dark corner near the stable entry. When he approached the corner, she followed him, ready to charge.
“You’d better come out,” he said evenly. “I don’t like being spied on.”
A slim figure stepped out of the blackness. It was Kiri.
She looked at him steadily. Neither spoke. He studied her dark eyes for any hint that she had seen the dragons in the sky, or seen the changing.
Her look was innocent, direct. She glanced past him toward the horses with the same yearning expression he had seen as she stood watching them from the almond grove with her Gram. He liked her thick, straight lashes and the way her brows looked like little wings. She seemed, Teb thought, more like a wild creature than a docile palace page. Watching her steady eyes and the set of her jaw, he wondered that she would take orders at all from the high-handed royal family.
“I came to see the horses.”
“I heard you weren’t allowed in the stable.”
“I’m not. But they’re too beautiful for me to stay away. Do you mind? May I speak to them?”
Before he could stop her, she moved past him to Seastrider, who stood with ears back and teeth bared. She laid a hand on the mare’s cheek, and Seastrider thrust her ears forward at once, then snuffled at the girl’s shoulder, her tail swinging lazily. Teb gaped.
When she went to Nightraider, he blew rollers into her neck, making her laugh, making a first-rate fool of himself. The horses had never acted like that, not with anyone.
“My father was horsemaster for the king, long ago,” she said quietly. “Not Sardira. A previous king.” Her look was steady. “I used to help him. When King Bayden died, Sardira sent my father away and appointed a new horsemaster. He said I was not to come near the stables. I guess I—” She went silent, her expression going cold as she stared past him toward the stable entry. Teb turned.
Another figure stood in the doorway, etched against the faint dawn light, her skirts swirled around her.
“I guess you made a nuisance of yourself in the stables, little cousin,” Accacia said. “I guess you tried too often to tell King Sardira’s horsemaster how to run his business.” She came across the stable alley holding her skirts up off the earthen floor, though it had recently been swept clean and smooth.
“You should not be here now, Kiri. Sardira would be interested to know you have disobeyed.” Accacia was dressed not for an early-morning ride, it seemed to Teb, but for a formal parade, in a lavender satin riding dress that rippled like water as she moved, shining black boots, and gold circlets binding her bright hair. “I think you had better run along, Kiri. You must not bother the prince. We are off soon on an important ride.”
Kiri turned to go, expressionless and straight-backed.
“Wait, Kiri,” Accacia said. “Perhaps . . .” She looked Kiri up and down. “If you will brush the straw out of your hair and make yourself presentable, you may serve as entourage page. I want four pages. Choose whatever three you like. We leave directly after breakfast.” She dismissed Kiri with a flick of her lace cuff.
The horses looked after Kiri eagerly as she left the stable, but when Teb sought in silence for the cause of their warmth toward her, they couldn’t tell him. Only that she was, in the sense of their thoughts, one to care about. Their expressions changed completely when Accacia approached them. When she reached to stroke Nightraider’s nose he scowled and bit at her, his teeth snapping inches from her face. She backed away, gasping, her hand raised to strike him, then forced a little laugh.
“Oh, they are spirited! I love a spirited horse!” She came to Teb quickly and laid a hand on his arm. “Might I ride that wild stallion when we go out this morning? I expect he would not be so challenging once I was on his back, with a proper bit in his mouth and proper spurs.”
“We are going out very early,” Teb said. “You seem dressed for a grand presentation.” He could hardly keep his mind on Accacia for wanting to go after Kiri, for wanting to question her. Kiri was not of the dark; the dragons had proved that. She did not seem to him a shallow person who would have no commitment at all.
“We leave in an hour, Prince Tebmund. I expect you will want to change from your . . . stable clothes.” Accacia studied his stained tunic with distaste. “Breakfast is served in the hall. I will have the grooms saddle your mare for you, and the black stallion, along with the rest of the mounts.”
“I will saddle my mare,” he said softly. “And it would not be wise for you to try any of my horses, princess. They have a strange and cruel dislike of any woman on their back.”
“I can handle any horse, Prince Tebmund. I will order a special bridle that—”
“Windcaller bucked off the female horsemaster of Windthorst’s western province and the woman was bedridden for six months with a broken hip. Nightraider attacked a visiting woman soldier from Akemada who insisted on riding him and broke her arm with one bite.”
Two red splotches flamed across her cheeks. “You are rude, Prince Tebmund. I tell you I can handle your horses.”
“I am only trying to protect you. You are far too lovely to be hurt or disfigured by an angry stallion. Come, shall we go to breakfast?”
She stared at him coldly, then swept out ahead of him.
Chapter 9
Roderica watched the party depart the stable yard dressed to the teeth, Accacia in her lavender satins, the king’s soldiers turned out in full uniform. From her high bedroom window behind the stable she could see them leave the main road and disappear over the crest of the first hill leading down into the city. Such a lot of fuss for a simple ride through the streets. Accacia’s idea, she thought, amused. Accacia found the visiting prince more than handsome. Well, let her. He was too involved with those horses to be really interesting. Accacia herself said he was not a very amusing conversationalist at the state meals. All looks and no fun, so why bother? Besides, it was more interesting to watch Accacia make a fool of herself. The queen would be amused at how she overdressed for a simple ride through the city, at how she threw herself at the prince.
Roderica lived as much on gossip as did the shut-in queen, the two of them chewing over other people’s lives but not involved in them. Why get tangled in stupid conflicts? Most of the passions that drove folk were pointless, she agreed fully with the queen.
Roderica couldn’t figure out what it was lately that made the queen act so strangely. Certainly it was not the secret she carried, at least it had never made her act peculiar before. Roderica had always known the queen’s secret, ever since she came to her as a small child. It meant little to her except it was a secret to be kept, a degree of loyalty she reserved for the queen alone. Besides, such a condition had no practical use. She watched the last soldiers disappear over the hill. The four foot pages at the head of the procession emerged farther down where the lane rose between ruined buildings. There was a scuffle, as if someone had attacked the pages; then they moved on. Roderica smiled at Accacia’s manipulation of little Kiri. How degrading to have to walk on foot, through mud and dung, before a line of mounted royalty and troops.