Page 33

It’s late afternoon by the time I get to the stables and I find the prince waiting for me. He is looking more handsome than a man ought to, in a dark green outfit that turns his eyes into two glittering pieces of the darkest jade.

“Good afternoon, Queen Elinor,” he greets me. “I presume your day got off to a good start this morning?”

I can’t help smiling at his hidden reference to our time together this morning. “Good afternoon, Emissary,” I reply. “My morning was busier than I would have liked, but it got off to a splendid start, and an added bonus was finding one of your soldiers up and about when I paid him a visit.”

His face lights up with a smile and there’s no doubt Barra’s recovery has brought him great comfort. “Yes, I visited him not long after you, and even though he was tired, it was great to finally have a proper conversation with him.”

He pauses and his beautiful face is momentarily marred by a frown. “I had hoped he would have been able to tell me who caused his and Aaran’s injuries, but his memory currently fails him in this regard. The only thing he knows is what you have already told me, that they were definitely Ellerban.”

A pang of guilt shoots through me at keeping this secret from him, but there is too much at stake between us to risk him reacting badly and insisting on returning to Ellerban to kill his brother.

“His physical recovery is going so well, I’m sure his mental recovery can’t be far behind,” I assure him.

“I’m sure you’re right,” he replies, “but something bothers me about the whole affair that I can’t quite put my finger on. Something’s not quite right, and I fear the more time passes the less chance I have to find out who tried to kill my men.”

I’m about to reply when there’s a commotion in the stables and all hell breaks loose with stable boys and grooms running in the direction of the far end of the stables.

The prince and I rush forward to see what’s going on and witness several grooms trying to corner and placate the newest member of my stable, a high spirited Arywythian stallion.

He has escaped his stall and evidently made an attempt to further escape the stables.

Now he is standing his ground, his dark eyes flashing with fear and defiance, his impressive muscles flexed with restraint as he looks for an opportunity to dash past the men surrounding him.

“Whoa, that is an impressive beast,” the prince says beside me as he looks at the stallion in awe.

“Yes, he is,” I agree, “but he is a wild soul and proving most challenging even to my most experienced trainers.”

The prince steps forward and advances towards the men surrounding the stallion. “Emissary!” I call out, eager to warn him about the horse’s temper, but it’s too late and I know to distract him now would be potentially dangerous.

“Everybody step back,” he commands the grooms and stable staff.

They follow his command and take a few steps back, widening the circle around the stallion.

This seems to calm him a little. The prince advances towards him with an outstretched arm, all the while speaking in soft tones in a language I don’t understand.

However, the effect upon the horse is immediately apparent and he visibly relaxes.

The prince places his hand on the stallion’s muzzle and slowly moves closer to him, still speaking this strange language that only the horse seems to understand.

“Open the door to the paddock,” the prince commands and one of the stable boys dashes towards the large door in the middle of the stables and throws it open.

The prince moves closer to the stallion, whispers something into its ear, and gestures towards the open door.

The stallion rears slightly and then spurts towards and out the open door, whereupon he proceeds to gallop around the paddock.

The prince turns to the stable manager. “I’d advise against keeping him in the darkest corners of the stables. He fears confinement. You need to keep him in the paddock for as long as possible and then in a stall with a view of it.”

The manager looks stunned but nods in agreement. “Thank you, Emissary, I will certainly follow your recommendations. Now, if you follow me, I have a horse ready for you, and the Queen’s steed also awaits her.”

Ten minutes later we leave the castle grounds by the rear gate.

I’m on Maneeha and he is atop a dappled grey mare called Lia, which I find an interesting choice of horse for him as she is known for her spirited nature.

There’s no sign of her more spirited side this afternoon, though, and she seems very content to convey the prince along the forest path which winds its way along the lakeshore.

The sky is light blue, the air crisp and the leaves on the bushes and trees are just starting to get their winter colours.

“How did you do that with the stallion?” I ask. “And what was that language you spoke? I’ve never heard it before.”

He smiles. “We Ellerban have a special connection to the equine breed, and just like our swords are presented to us on the the day of our birth, a lock of horsehair is placed in our crib. This signifies the special bond we will have with these noble creatures for the rest of our lives. As long as an Ellerban man has a horse to ride and a sword by his side he is seen as having the two things necessary to prosper and survive.”

“And the language? Is that some secret sort of horse language?”

He starts to laugh and can hardly contain himself long enough to answer me.

“No, that was old Bawnish, which is still spoken in the more remote regions of Ellerban. It was taught to me by Barra, who, by the way, took my knowledge of horses to another level. You should get him to work with your stallion. He’s from Anillean, a remote region of Ellerban where the people are somewhat wilder than in Bawna but are known for their special connection to their horses and their hounds. ”

The more I hear about Ellerban, the more I am fascinated by the place and look forward to visiting it someday with the prince. “I can’t imagine a people even wilder than the normal people of Ellerban,” I reply. “You’re significantly more liberated and natural in your ways than the Ardvallans.”

“Oh, believe me, those who hail from Anillean are wilder and fiercer than you can ever imagine, but also loyal and heartstrong. I consider myself lucky to have Barra as one of my elite warriors.”

I think back to my conversation with Barra this morning and his declaration, above all else, of loyalty to the prince.

I also find my thoughts lingering on his nut-brown skin and impressive musculature that gave the impression he’d been hewn from the strongest oak tree.

Alarmingly, I feel a quickening low in my abdomen as the image of his sapphire blue eyes fills my mind’s eye.

Confused as to my body’s peculiar response to my thoughts of Barra, I urge Maneeha forward into a canter, eager as I am to dispel the unfamiliar feeling which is now spreading lower into my womanhood.

The prince quickly falls into place beside me, and as the forest starts to open up into a meadow he grins. “So, you wish to race me?” he asks. “I think I feel another wager coming on.”

I can’t help laughing at his mischievous expression. “I thought you never made a wager you couldn’t lose?” I tease.

“I have no intention of losing,” he declares.

“The last one to the large rock at the end of the meadow must bare their naked form to the other and run around the rock three times.” The words are no sooner out of his mouth than he is urging Lia forward, and it’s all I can do to gather my shocked wits about me and spur Maneeha on.

There is no way I am stripping naked in the middle of a meadow, even if I have to admit I am strangely aroused by the idea.

He is already two horse lengths ahead of me by the time I get Maneeha into her stride, but I know what my horse is capable of, and despite the possibility of hidden dangers such as stones or ruts I decide to trust her.

“Go, girl,” I whisper into her ear as I loosen the reins, raise myself out of my saddle and urge her to run like the wind.

We are halfway across the meadow by the time I catch him, but I’m far lighter than the prince and my horse is the faster of the two, so it's no surprise to me when I fly past him. However, judging from the expression on the prince’s face it's a big surprise to him. I turn and give him a little wave as I easily put a few horse lengths between us, and I can't help the smug grin I flash at him before I turn my attention back to Maneeha. I know if I lose focus he won’t hesitate to capitalise on it. I’ve learned quite a few things about him since he arrived in Ardvalla, not least of which is his competitive nature.

I’m standing with my arms crossed and grinning wildly by the time he reaches the rock and dismounts.

“You didn’t mention that your horse has the wind in her hooves,” he says as he approaches, and he looks decidedly irritated.

“You didn’t ask,” I point out, wiggling my finger at him in a circular motion, “and instead of whining about how fast my horse is, you need to start disrobing, otherwise I shall think you Ellerban men only keep your end of a wager when it suits you.”

“You know, I wasn’t really going to hold you to the naked thing,” he says as he approaches me, “just to run around to the rock three times, maybe in your petticoat.”

I purse my lips and raise my eyebrows, “Oh really? I seem to recall you held me well enough to our wager last night. So forgive me if I don't exactly believe you. Now let me see some flesh.”

Even as I say the words, I feel my heart start to beat erratically and I don't know how I can be so nervous at the prospect of seeing him naked, and yet so eager.

I suspect my nervousness is showing all over my face as he grins, cocks an eyebrow and says, “Very well.”