As they neared the door to the stable yard, a trumpet blared from a tower overhead. As if in answer to the fanfare of horns, the mist began to lift, unveiling banners with kingfishers, swords, and roses on fields of argent and blue hanging majestically from the towers. But for the first time, as a sign of the change, pennons of black and red also hung between those of blue, with images of skulls and lilies and wreathes of thorns emblazoned in gold upon them. At the sound of the trumpet, the Knights of both orders exited the castle, filing into the stable yard where their horses waited.
As Lord Gunthar stepped out into the gray dawn, the other Knights were mounting their horses and awaiting his arrival. Lord Tohr Malen sat astride a magnificent black stallion given him by his host for the occasion, while Gunthar's trusted retainer, Fawkes, held the bridle of Gunthar's own steed, Traveler-a dapple gray. Sir Liam clambered into the saddle of his great horse-a bay gelding-and sat hunched with a dark cloak gripped tightly around his body and the hood pulled low over his face against the cold. His breath, floating in smoky clouds from the hood, gave him a sorcerous appearance. Gunthar felt more than saw Liam's eyes staring out from that cowl. The past week had not been easy for Gunthar, watching his favorite student and chosen successor sulk and mope about the halls of the castle, a veritable harbinger of gloom. Well, Liam was just going to have to accept that this was the way things had to be, that was all. Gunthar slapped his heavy leather gauntlets against his thigh and descended the short stair to the cobblestones below.
As Fawkes held the stallion's bridle, Gunthar mounted into the saddle. Traveler sidestepped and danced a circle as he took the reins, until Gunthar brought him under control. With a wave of his hand, he sent Fawkes scurrying into the stable.
"Knights! Ladies! Gentlemen!" Gunthar shouted in a voice that seemed overloud in the lifting mist. "I pledge you all good hunting! Let us drink the stirrup cup of hot mead, as our fathers did of old."
At these words, Fawkes reappeared carrying a large steaming pewter horn. The vessel was carved with images of leaping stags, while wild, satyrlike creatures chased them with drawn bows. He handed it up to Lord Gunthar, who raised it in toast to his fellow Knights. When he had drunk, the horn passed among the others.
In all, both orders of Knighthood were equally represented, with six members from each. For the Solamnics, Lord Gunthar was their leader, with Liam Ehrling, Quintayne Fogorner, and Meredith Turningdale. Ellinghad Beauseant was present for the Knights of the Sword, and Lady Jessica of Isherwood represented the Crown Knights. Lord Tohr Malen led the Knights of Takhisis, with his seconds Alya Starblade and Valian Escu. The other Knights of Takhisis were ladies Cecelia and Delia Waering, sisters both by blood and by their vows of obedience to Takhisis. The lone Thorn Knight was the grayrobed Trevalyn Kesper, who sat in his short-stirruped saddle like a frost-bitten scribe on a stool, his knees up around his chest and his arms wrapped around them for warmth.
Each pair of Knights would be accompanied by a squire, who would carry spears and provide another pair of eyes during the hunt. Since the Knights of Takhisis had brought no servants with them, squires were chosen from the available men-at-arms at the castle. Also, much to the Knights' dismay, gully dwarves were to trail along, to attend to the hounds. Most considered the gully dwarves more a hindrance than a help, but they consoled themselves with the fact that all would quickly be left in the dust once the chase began.
Gunthar chose Uhoh to attend him. While the others waited their turns with the cup, he introduced the gully dwarf to Trevalyn. Already discomfited by having to participate in such a vigorous event as a hunt and miserable in the cold, wet weather, Trevalyn withdrew deeper into his gray robes and said not a word in response. Gunthar shrugged and raised his hand to get everyone's attention.
"When the first hound strikes a trail, the nearest squire will blow his horn," Gunthar directed. "When you hear it, break off your hunt and converge with the sound of the horn. The forest is crisscrossed with game trails, so it is rather easy to become lost if you do not know the way. If you do get lost and cannot find your way back to the castle before dark, we will blow the great horn from the tower gate every turning of the glass, until all have returned safely, or until darkwatch. You should find blankets and provisions in your saddlebags, should you not make it back to the castle by that time."
Lord Gunthar rode now to the gate, the others turning their horses to follow him. The people in the courtyard stopped whatever they were doing to watch. Gunthar halted his horse and stood in the stirrups, turning to face the Knights. "The gods grant you grace and good hunting. Knights! Forward!" Trumpeters on the battlements blew a fanfare as Gunthar and his Knights rode out.
The people cheered and crowded close to gawk and stare, while the gully dwarves and hounds surged forward, running around and between the horses' legs to get to the front. The large gray hounds cavorted and capered about on their long legs, barking as though laughing with joy. The squires with their bundles of tall spears flanked the group of Knights, some riding well wide of the procession to catch the attention of a group of fur-cloaked ladies gathered near one of the stages. As the Knights crossed the courtyard to the blare of trumpets, pandemonium erupted among the merchants' stalls. Cages tumbled and tables toppled, with chickens and small children cackling and flying every which direction, pursued by hungry gully dwarves. Gunthar rode in front, with the pairs of Knights in ranks following him. Trevalyn Kesper brought up the rear, while a string of whispering children followed at a short distance, daring each other to throw a stone at the gray-robed Knight. He made it a point to ignore them, until a panicked chicken crashed into his head with an explosion of white feathers. His audience rolled on the wet ground, giggling hysterically, but he soon left them behind, his dignity as ruffled as the feathers he picked out of his beard.
Uhoh Ragnap scurried hither and thither, thwacking gully dwarves on the head with a discarded riding crop he'd picked up somewhere, and rousting hounds with the toe of his boot, until he managed to get all his charges outside the castle walls. One or two of his fellow Aghar burped feathers and hid their guilty smiles behind grubby hands. The Knights rode out behind the last hound, followed by the squires, who had to duck their spears to get them under the postern. Once free of the confines of the courtyard, they loosened their reins and galloped about the green. Uhoh sighed and leaned against the wall, and the great hound Garr paced over and stood beside him, staring sleepily at nothing in particular, as if to say, "When you are ready to be serious about this, let me know."
Uhoh was not allowed a long rest, for soon the hounds and gully dwarves had found the merchant stalls outside the walls of the castle. A stampede of sheep nearly toppled the stage where an acrobat was demonstrating his balancing skill atop a ladder. He fell with a shriek into a cart laden with apples. "Fungduggers!" Uhoh cursed as he stomped off, the riding crop held menacingly in his small fist. He turned back to the great hound. "Garr! Find. Gather," he shouted.
With a yawn, Garr trotted into the crowd. Soon, canine yelps of pain sounded over the noise of the fair, as hounds pelted by the merchants, singly or in small groups, emerged to gather near the edge of the forest. Alongside them trotted gully dwarves sporting fresh new red welts.