Читать книгу Minstrel's Serenade - Aubrie Dionne - Страница 8

Party of Four

A light jig danced on the wind as Danika approached the carriage. She wanted to scream for the song to stop. Not only had she listened to enough music, the playful tones mocked the gravity of the journey ahead. If only she could find the source of the tune, she’d bash in that particular player’s lute.

When she arrived, Bron had loaded most of the bags of rice, filling both passenger seats and the underside of the carriage where he’d stored the wyvern’s head. He’d already hooked up their horses, and Nip sat in the driver’s seat, pretending to whip the reins.

“What about your war trophy? You cannot leave a good wyvern head behind.” Danika smiled.

“I gave it to the minstrels.” Bron heaved the last bag of rice into the carriage. It plopped on top of the velvety seats, stirring up moss dust. He turned and winked. “Maybe King Troubadir will make another table.”

“A horrid table indeed.” Danika rolled her eyes. “I cannot even imagine.”

“Maybe you can discuss it with him now.” Bron gestured over her shoulder.

King Troubadir had arrived, flanked by three minstrels on either side. Their long cloaks brushed the tall grasses behind them. They were dressed in formal robes, flutes hung from silver cords around their waists. Not one of them carried a lute. Valorian hadn’t come.

His absence surprised her. Why wouldn’t the prince bid them farewell on their journey? Maybe his affections didn’t run as deep as she thought. A newfound sense of freedom from obligation poured over her, but an underlying current of disappointment irked her as well. Did no man seek her attentions?

“Good morning, Princess Danika.” Troubadir smiled and extended his hand. Danika bowed before him, taking his hand in hers.

“I trust your quarters provided sufficient rest and relaxation.”

Behind her, Bron grunted and spoke under his breath, “Maybe a little too much.”

Danika cleared her throat to silence him. She didn’t need him reminding her of her lay-about late morning nap. She blamed her exhaustion on the previous day’s terrors.

“Yes, my cottage exceeded my expectations, indeed.” She released his hand, eager to be rid of it.

The king curled his delicate fingers around a crystal flute as if from habit. “Wonderful. As you can see, I’ve provided more than enough rice.”

“My thanks, Your Highness.” Danika counted the horses. They needed all four to pull the carriage. Where were her and Nip’s mounts?

“Excuse me for a moment, Your Highness.” She bowed and strode over to Bron.

He busied himself cleaning the horses’ hooves with a silver pick. He glanced over his shoulder. “Yes, Princess?”

“Where are the rest of the horses?”

Bron shrugged. “The king said he’d see to it.”

“Doesn’t look like he’s seen to anything with four legs.” Danika huffed and crossed her arms. Time slipped through her fingers and she couldn’t wait around for forgetful minstrels. Did they plan to keep her waiting until her kingdom fell to ruin?

Bron straightened, meeting her eye. “Do you want me to talk with him?”

“No. I’ll straighten out our arrangements.”

“Hi-ya, great stallions, on to battle!” Nip shouted from behind them.

Bron chuckled, “Looks like we have the makings of a great warrior in our midst.”

Danika rolled her eyes. “One is enough for me.”

“Is it, now?” Bron’s gaze darkened.

Did he ask if he was enough? The air between them sizzled with anticipation. She studied the curve of his lips, ending with the scar trailing up to his cheek. If only she could reach out and trace the vulnerable skin. Maybe then, she’d touch his soul and guess the thoughts lingering in his head.

Hoof-beats pounded the earth, coming from the village behind them. Danika ripped her gaze away from his unwavering stare. Valorian rode in on a spotted stallion, trailing three auburn horses. He dismounted in a swift arc and led the horses to her side. “Morning, Princess Danika. I’ve brought you the finest steeds the House of Song has to offer.”

He’d already saddled the horses with fine leather and jeweled reins. Their coats gleamed in a flawless shine.

Danika couldn’t hide the awe in her voice. “Thank you, Prince Valorian.”

“My pleasure.” He flashed a smile, silvery eyes catching the sun like an upraised sword.

Danika blinked, trying not to be too mesmerized.

“Can we proceed with this journey?” Bron grumbled. “I doubt the She-Beast waits for tardy warriors.”

“Of course.” Valorian handed the princess a set of reins, his fingers closing over hers.

Heat traveled from his gentle grip to her face. She looked away. “I have to summon Nip.”

He released his hold. “By all means.”

She thought she’d have to bargain with Nip to get him out of Bron’s seat, but the boy jumped from the carriage and saluted Valorian with a wave.

“Here you are, valiant knight.” Valorian hoisted him on his mount and handed him the reins.

“Thank you, sir.” Nip settled in the saddle, looking like a toddler on a warhorse.

Danika grew nervous, doubting her decision to have the boy tag along. “You do know how to ride a horse, don’t you?”

Nip fumbled with the reins. “Yeah. We had a pet mule named Gracy. I used to ride her in town all the time.”

“Excellent practice.” Valorian nodded, leading the beast forward.

Danika flared her eyes at the prince in warning and shook her head. “Nip, secure a good hold. The fall to the ground is much farther than from a mule’s back.”

“I’ll make sure he’s riding straight.” Valorian released his grip and watched Nip steer the first few paces on his own.

Danika opened her mouth to ask how he’d protect Nip all the way from the House of Song when she noticed a travel bag with a goat’s stomach strapped on his horse. He wore a different cloak than the others, too, the velvety fabric replaced with smooth, black leather. He meant to travel with them.

“We have no need for your assistance, I assure you, Prince.”

“The fate of both our kingdoms dangles on the backs of a princess, her bodyguard and a small boy. Surely, one more hand will aid your quest. Especially a minstrel for protection.”

Her mouth tightened with a retort as Valorian swept his arm to the carriage. “Bron can lift an ox, no doubt. Four bags of rice, however, will constrain him, especially when he’s supposed to be offering his protection. What if the albinos decide you are a better meal than all that rice?”

“Bron?” Danika questioned him with a glare.

Bron threw the silver pick near his travel bag on his seat. He gave the carriage a long look before answering. He scratched his head. “He’s right. If I carry the rice all by myself, I’ll be incapacitated. I could take two or three trips wielding my claymore, but time is of the essence, and we still have to lug all the metal back if they’ll trade.”

Looking at Valorian’s long branch-like arms, she doubted he could carry even one bag. Anger mustered inside her and she fought to keep her tongue in check. She didn’t want to be babysat by a minstrel. He’d spy on them all the way there. Not to mention the fact he had a certain power over her, no doubt resulting from his magic charms.

Bron walked over to her and offered his arm, “Princess, if we may speak in private?”

“Of course.” She glanced at Valorian and King Troubadir. “I’ll just be a moment.”

Valorian bowed. “Take all the time you need.”

She slipped her hand over Bron’s round bicep and followed him to a glade beyond the line of bluewoods. A lark trilled above them and flew to a higher perch in the shadows. Danika shot the bird a skeptical eye. Who knew what form of spies lurked in these woods?

She settled on an outcropping of granite. Her fingers shook from rage. So many plans had gone askew these past days. Her father would shun her if he knew she’d allied with the minstrels and yet, even her risky alliance might not be enough to save the kingdom. Now the prince would ride by her side? She closed her eyes to calm herself, the sun warming her skin. When she opened them again, Bron stood across from her, patient as a great bluewood.

Danika swallowed. “You wished to speak with me?”

“Princess, you know I advised your father on war tactics, among other things.”

“Yes, and he didn’t always listen, did he?” Her voice wavered, thinking back to the day on the battlefield, the day she’d lost him. She hadn’t truly forgiven Bron for accepting the king’s orders. Bron should have rebelled and protected her father, but then they might have lost the war, and she wouldn’t be sitting in the sunlight today. Fate twisted in a circular loop, making her mind spin. She pushed those thoughts of the battle away. She must work with what she had now and not dwell on the past.

Bron breathed in as if she’d stuck his gut with the tip of a sword. “Do you trust me?”

“More than anyone in the world.” Her answer flung out of her mouth before she gave it a thought.

Bron’s eyes widened. His tone softened. “Then, hear me out.”

Danika crossed her arms, long sleeves folding in on themselves. “Very well.”

“The prince speaks the truth. As much as I don’t like his scrawny velvet-clad ass, I’m not going to put you or Nip in danger for my own prejudices, or yours, for that matter.”

She tried to look away but he kept her gaze as if he knew her too well. A vision of her mother’s formal veil flitted through her mind. She clutched the memory and tossed it away.

“You have to think rationally, Princess. One more hand or voice, I should say, against the beasts of the forest, the albinos in the cave and the wyverns in the sky, makes sense. Besides, we cannot snub King Troubadir after he provided all that rice. You’re sabotaging your own alliance.”

“I understand.” Danika played with a stray thread from her dress. “I do allow my prejudices to intervene.”

“As would any human.” Bron stepped forward until he stood within an arm’s reach. He moved his hand and his fingers twitched in the open air between them as if they yearned to touch her. His face softened and he licked his thick lips. He pulled his hand back, resting the palm on his hilt. “’Tis what makes you a compassionate ruler.”

“Like I said before, flattery will get you nowhere.” Despite her stern tone, she gazed at him and smiled. “I’ve considered your counsel and have decided to allow the prince to accompany us.”

He bowed his head. “Your wishes are my commands.”

“I’m not sure who is commanding who right now.” She held out her arm. “Escort me to the carriage. We have a long journey ahead of us, and the sooner we get on with it, the sooner we’ll be rid of him.”

Bron’s voice turned melancholy. “I hope you speak the truth.”

* * * *

Amber sunlight trickled through the canopy, lighting their path. The bluewoods gave way to towering pines, and their horses’ hooves stirred up needles and cones instead of leaves. The air turned from a humid bath to a refreshing cool breeze as the northern winds picked up. Danika rode with Valorian in the lead. Behind them, Bron drove the carriage with Nip’s horse tied alongside. Nip sat beside him, sharpening his wooden sword. She hoped he wouldn’t have to use it.

Danika’s cheeks burned, and it wasn’t from the patchy rays of sun. Valorian stole glances from across the trail as he matched her horse’s gait. She forced herself to ignore him, lest he capture her eye and hold her gaze until she rode into a tree.

Minstrel’s magic, ’tis all it was.

But, he hadn’t sung a note.

By midday, her bowed legs ached and her stomach grumbled. The tang of wet minerals hovered in the air and she drew back on the reins. Her horse slowed, puffing hot air from its nostrils. Valorian mirrored her move like a skilled horseman, following every step. He pulled by her side, his long, angular face drawn with concern. “Something amiss, dear Princess?”

“No. We should take a break. It’s a long journey and I don’t want to tire out our horses too soon.” She refused to speak of the pain in her rear or her parched throat. She’d spent too long cooped up in her castle, making her body weak.

Valorian nodded. “Very well.” He dismounted in a smooth arc, his boots landing silently in the undergrowth. He’d tied his silky hair back in a loose ponytail, and a glint of sunlight caught the auburn strands, bringing out the amber highlights. He offered his hand.

She could push Bron’s hand away whenever she liked, but to refuse the prince of the House of Song tempted war. Danika slid her gloved hand in his. He gripped her fingers as she swung her leg over her mount and landed beside him, a little too close. The change from the horse’s back to the soft undergrowth caught her off balance, and she fell forward, her hands resting on the richly embroidered crimson vest across his chest.

His breath caressed her cheek. “You are an excellent rider, my lady.”

She stepped back and turned to her saddlebag to hide the flaming heat in her cheeks and neck. She retrieved her sheepskin and held the spout to her lips, the cool water sliding down her throat. “I thought a rider’s eyes are trained to look ahead.”

“How can one ignore such elegance and grace?”

She sniffed. How much stock could she put in his honey-laced tongue? “I’ve trained to ride like a warrior since I was sixteen.”

“You must have had an expert teacher.”

Just as Valorian spoke, the carriage rounded the bend in the trail and Bron shouted to the horses. “Whoa! Hold back.”

The sight of Bron brought Danika relief, and she relaxed her shoulders and curved her lips in a small, secret smile. “I did.”

Valorian’s perfect arched eyebrows rose as if he missed a jest. Bron pulled alongside them and the carriage creaked to a halt. The warrior nodded at Danika and gave Valorian a skeptical glance as if his skinny minstrel ass couldn’t handle the long journey. “What’s the reason for the delay?”

“I smell a stream.” Danika gestured to the east. Why did she feel the need to step in and defend Valorian against Bron? He was a grown man, and music supposedly ranked more powerful than steel. He could defend himself. “We can refill our water rations. Our horses need a break.”

“As you wish, Princess.” Bron jumped from the carriage seat, his leather boots stomping the ground in a mini earthquake.

Nip waved his arms impatiently. “Me, too.”

Bron lifted the boy from the carriage and set him down beside him. Nip ran to the side of the trail and began swiping the ferns with his sword.

The trees rustled around them, boughs bending to the will of the wind. Danika had never traveled this far north. The forests surrounding Ebonvale had fluffy topped saplings compared to these ancient pines. Danika felt like a porcelain doll.

Bron scanned the area. “We need to hide the carriage and horses.”

“Save your strength, man of steel.” Valorian chuckled. “My father’s rice wouldn’t fetch one silver coin on the black market.”

Bron crossed his arms, his leather jerkin creaking. “Yes, but a ransomed prince or princess would bring the house down.”

Danika didn’t know if Bron meant any house or the House of Song. Whatever the intention, Valorian didn’t appreciate the jab, or maybe the thought of being an object to pillage. He straightened the sharp collar of his lined riding coat, his silver eyes steeling. “I wouldn’t allow anyone to touch the princess.”

“Anyone?” Bron stepped toward him with playfulness in his eyes. “Even a sweet-talking, lute-strumming…”

Valorian stepped forward, his long fingers tightened around his lute strap, as if the instrument were a weapon. “Are you inferring a prince from the House of Song would compromise a woman’s honor?”

Bron harrumphed. “It’s happened in the past.”

“Our music doesn’t fabricate love. Our songs bring out the true shape of the heart.”

Bron growled, stepping toward him. “You’re saying our queen had the heart of a betrayer?”

Valorian held his ground, calm and rational. “I’m saying she chose her place.”

Emotions whirled in Danika’s chest and she shoved them down before they overwhelmed her. The time to argue about her mother’s loyalty had passed long ago. If Bron and Valorian continued at this rate, they’d kill each other before they reached Darkenbite.

She grabbed Bron’s arm. “Over here. There’s a hidden outcropping.”

“Saved by the princess.” Bron snarled at Valorian and turned to Danika. “I don’t care what this minstrel says. We should conceal our trespassing.”

The whispering trees sent shivers up her spine. She wasn’t about to argue. “You’re the bodyguard.”

They steered the carriage off the trail and made camp uphill from the road where they could spot any passing travelers. Valorian unlatched a bag of fruit and passed a sweet peach each to Nip and Danika. Bron refused, chewing on jerky.

The warrior said nothing. Danika leaned forward, swallowing a mouthful of sweet peach juice. “How did King Troubadir acquire such a massive scale?”

Valorian had finished eating and swung his lute over his shoulder to rest against his flat stomach that could or could not contain chiseled abs. Danika didn’t need to know.

He strummed a tentative chord. “The table?”

Danika nodded, leaning on the trunk of a massive black pine. The cool, mossy bark soothed her aching back.

His fingertips plucked a series of melancholy notes. Two high chimes then a low bass drone. “Traders from Brimmore’s Bay brought the scale in. They said the monstrosity washed up on their shores.”

“Makes sense with the tide rushing up from Scalehaven.” Danika ran her tongue over her front teeth, still tasting sugar. “Have you talked with anyone who’s actually seen the She-Beast?”

Tension grew in Valorian’s melody. “No one has seen her up close and lived to tell the tale. The reports come from witnesses on the shore. They see the worm’s writhing outline on the horizon. They say her body resembles a corkscrew unfurling infinitely long, cutting the sky in half.”

Danika refused to let fear in. Village bumpkins were known to exaggerate their accounts. “And how do you plan to vanquish her?”

Valorian struck a dissonant note and the lute rang throughout the woods. “I have reason to believe these fire worms are intelligent, and if they are, my minstrels will find a way to use our songs to quell their raging breath. But, our music cannot kill. Our songs open one’s heart to the emotions residing within.” He gazed at Bron. “I’ll need your bodyguard’s steel to strike her when her guard is down.”

The note dissipated into silence. Danika nodded. “’Tis a good plan.”

Bron shifted his weight, stretching his massive legs across the pine needles. “Only if the She-Beast and her kin can understand the music’s meaning.”

His song finished, Valorian strapped his lute to his back. “Music is a universal language understood by all.”

Bron unsheathed his dagger and used the tip to clean his teeth. “What if these fireworms don’t care for music?”

Valorian smiled like he’d won the game. “Everyone cares for music, even a newborn baby or an elder too old to remember anything else. The trick is finding the right chords to strike to find their innermost desires and open their heart. All I need is the protection to get near enough for my music to reach these fireworms’ scaly ears.”

Bron sheathed his dagger. “Consider it done.”

A foul wind tickled Danika’s nose and she covered her face with her sleeve.

Valorian stood. “It seems my song of warning has been ignored.”

Bron took a deep whiff, his dark eyes staring at the trees in a menacing challenge.

“What is the meaning of this ill-fated breeze?” Danika pulled Nip to her side.

“Grab the horses and prepare the carriage.” Bron drew out his claymore. The steel reflected the dark silhouettes of the pines, framed with patches of shadows. “We’re being followed.”