Page 26 of Pippa of Lauramore (The Eldentimber #1)

I know I’ve met my end as the glasseln dives for me. Then, just as I tense for impact, several arrows fly from the dark of the forest toward it. The beast falls from the sky to the ground. It pulls itself up and looks for its attacker.

Several archers burst from the trees behind us and send another series of arrows at the glasseln, making it shriek.

Percival appears like a glorious king of legend, leaps from his horse, and charges toward the cat. Father’s knights are right behind him.

Strong hands pull me away from the madness. The riders have brought torches, and the night looks as if it’s on fire. The glasseln is surrounded, and I can’t see a thing. I pull against the arms holding me.

“Pippa, be still,” Sir Kimble says, keeping me back.

The beast gives one last horrific hiss, and then everything is silent .

Percival turns away, his sword slick with blood. Leonora runs to him, sobbing. He holds her tightly and asks if she’s hurt. She assures him she isn’t.

No one, including my father or Alexander, who have also come, ask if I’m hurt. You would think they would, since I was moments from death and blood is draining from my shoulder.

Archer would have if he were here.

It’s chaos. Marigold is bawling again, and Father is trying to soothe her. Knights examine the glasseln. Their mail shirts shine in the torchlight as they lean over, hesitant to touch the cat although it’s dead.

Percival finally looks up, and his gaze lands on me. His eyes narrow, and he’s shaking with anger. I shrink back. “Pippa! What were you thinking? It’s one thing to put yourself at risk, but Leonora as well? And Lady Marigold!”

Every eye in the party lands on me, and I blink.

“It wasn’t her fault,” Leonora says. “We were kidnapped. Pippa saved us. ”

Since every one of them is staring right at me, I witness the play of expressions on their faces. First, they’re incredulous, then horrified…then murderous.

“Who kidnapped you?” Father demands.

I step forward, feeling brave now that his fury isn’t focused on me. “Three men from Errinton. They surrounded us while we picnicked by the lake.”

“They drugged Pippa and me,” Marigold says, her voice weak. She crosses her arms and shivers.

“They took us to a cave.” Leonora looks up at Percival. “ Once the poison wore off, we sneaked down the tunnels, climbed the rock walls, and escaped out a large hole in the ceiling!”

I hide my smile behind my hand. She looks quite proud of herself—as she should be.

Percival goes ashen. “Did they drug you as well?”

She shakes her head then leans against his chest and says, “No.”

He wraps his arms around her back and breathes out, obviously relieved.

“Are you all right, Lady Marigold?” Alexander asks the weeping woman. She dissolves into a fit of tears, and he holds her, patting her back as she cries.

I feel odd, standing here by myself. I look away from them.

The knights go to their horses, following my father. He turns to me. “Where is this cave?”

“It’s the one you found me at the other evening,” I answer, and then I feel my cheeks warm.

Father doesn’t notice. “Seven with me. Alexander, you come as well. The rest of you escort the girls back to the palace.”

After they’ve mounted, he kicks his horse forward, and they take off into the woods.

“How did you find us?” Leonora asks the group that’s left.

My uncle glances at the sky. “We heard the glasseln. Ewan feared the worst. We followed its cries.”

I’m glad they did.

“We need to get you to the physician.” Sir Kimble looks at my shoulder. He rummages through his pack and pulls out a bandage. “This should stop the bleeding for now.”

I grit my teeth as he wraps it, wanting to cry out from the pain. Somehow, I manage to stay silent. I ride behind Sir Kimble. My eyes get heavy, and I feel myself drift off long before we reach the palace.

My eyes fly open, and I hiss in pain.

Yuven tuts a few times and then continues his work.

“Stop!” I gasp.

Yuven’s hand stills, and he looks up from my shoulder wound to meet my eyes.

“Since when does an herbalist stitch someone up?” I exclaim.

The light catches the needle, and I think I might be sick.

“Since the physician is busy.” His brown eyes are sleepy, and though he’s not much older than Archer, in the middle of the night, he looks ancient. His black hair is unrulier than it usually is, and he looks as grumpy as I’ve ever seen him.

“Why?” I ask, trying to sit up.

He holds me still. “One of the princes returned yesterday. He’s not doing well.”

“Who?” I demand. “What happened?”

“What do you think happened?” Yuven asks. “He found a dragon. ”

A chair creaks in the corner, alerting me to someone else’s presence. I look over and see my mother. She looks pale. “How are you feeling, darling?”

I can’t speak now that Yuven has continued with the stitches. I grit my teeth and try very hard not to pass out. After several minutes, he knots the catgut and shakes his head. “It will likely scar.”

“Who came back yesterday?” I ask once I finally find my voice.

“Prince Espin,” Mother answers.

I sigh, relieved, and then I feel guilty. “Will he be all right?”

Now that Yuven’s finished, she comes to my side. She’s careful not to look at the wound as she brushes my hair from my forehead. “Yes, we believe so.”

I accept the tea Yuven hands me and try it. It has a bitter, herbal taste that isn’t pleasant. I take another sip. He did, at least, add honey, so I will be able to choke it down.

“They found the bandits,” Mother says, her voice quiet. “Lord Rigel has confirmed they are indeed Errintonian.”

I nod, trusting Father to take care of it.

“Are you finished?” Mother asks Yuven.

He nods and gathers his supplies.

“You need rest,” she says to me. “Let’s get you to bed.”

There’s sun streaming through the balcony. I groan and roll over, wishing it wasn’t morning. Unfortunately, I roll to the wrong side. Searing pain pulses from my shoulder.

I sit up, knowing I won’t be able to go back to sleep now. I squint at the sunlight. It looks wrong for some reason.

My dressing gown is hanging at the head of my bed canopy, and I pull it on and step out the balcony doors. It only takes a moment to realize what the problem is. It’s not morning at all. It’s early evening.

Apparently, I’ve slept all day.

Not waiting for help, I dress myself. I will need a new riding dress made—the glasseln ripped mine to shreds. I pick a soft, lightweight gown with smooth fabric that won’t tug at the bandage over my shoulder. Even that hurts.

I’m fighting with the lacing at the back—it’s impossible to tie without pulling at my stitches—when there’s a soft knock at the door.

“Pippa,” Leonora says as soon as she steps through. “You’re awake.”

I stop struggling with the tie and let my hands fall to my sides. Leonora has Ginna with her, and she waves the girl in.

A savage pain radiates from my wound. It travels down my arm, up my neck, and down my back.

“I wish I were dead,” I say dramatically.

She raises an eyebrow. “You almost were.”

“You too,” I say, my voice quiet as I remember how close to losing Leonora we were. “How are you? ”

She wanders my room. She pulls back the curtains from the balcony and then examines trinkets on my dressing table. “I’m all right.”

“And…”

I can’t say baby, not with Ginna here. For some reason, Leonora and Percival have been keeping the news quiet.

She smiles. “The baby is fine as well. Everyone knows now.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

Ginna has laced the dress, and she’s now brushing the rat’s nest of tangles out of my hair.

“This time—the tournament—is yours. I didn’t want to take that away from you.”

This is typical Leonora behavior. It’s why she makes a much better princess than I do.

“You haven’t taken anything away. You’ve added to my joy.” I move to hug her, unintentionally making Ginna trail behind me as she continues to unsnarl my hair, but my shoulder protests. I drop my arms and pat Leonora’s arm instead.

I don’t feel joyful right now, though. The thought of Archer and Galinor out there fighting off glasselns, scavenging from dragons, and evading an occasional grim boar has me nervous.

“Do you think they’re all right?” I stare out the balcony at the mountains.

Leonora settles down on my bed. “You know Archer. If anyone can best a dragon, it’s him.”

Ginna’s hands go still in my hair, and she’s obviously surprised by what she just heard .

I turn back and give her a sharp look. “Not a word of this.”

She gives me a cheeky smile before she continues her work. “No, Princess.”

I change the subject. “How is Marigold?”

Leonora sighs. “Like you, she slept most of the day. She’s up now but not doing well. The maid-of-the-shadows poison is still in her system. It’s brought back a slew of buried nightmares.” She shakes her head. “Poor thing.”

We’re silent for a moment, remembering Marigold’s whimpers in the cave.

“What happened to her, Leonora?” I ask. “How did her family die?”

Leonora sighs. “During the wars, a flight of dragons flew over their land and set fire to their tenant’s cottages and farms. Her parents went after the dragons and were killed in the battle.

After the small village burned down, the dragons set her family’s villa on fire.

Marigold, only thirteen at the time, had been left with the care of her young brothers and sisters.

The house collapsed in on itself. They were trapped inside. ”

I close my eyes, trying to forget her cries. No wonder she’s so frightened of confined spaces.

“The young ones died of hunger and dehydration,” Leonora continues. “When one of the surviving tenants finally found Marigold, she was hysterical. Her entire family died.”

Once again Ginna’s hands have stilled. I glance up at her, and there’s pain in her eyes. She lost a brother to the wars. Everyone lost someone .

Now, after five years of peace, we’re meddling with dragons again for the sake of a tournament. Not only is it unwise, it’s dangerous.

Ginna pats my unwounded shoulder. “Archer will return, Pippa.”

I clasp her hand. “He has to.”

I couldn’t bear it if he didn’t.

“You seem restless,” Mother says, setting her hand on mine. “Will you tell me what’s troubling you?”

I smooth out the cloth napkin I have twisted. “I’m still a bit tired.”

“Yuven has requested your help tomorrow. Would you consider it?” She leans in. “It will keep your anxious heart busy. I know how you worry.”

I agree. She pats my hand again and then turns back to Father.

Rigel sits on my other side. All through dinner, he’s been making small talk with me, and it seems like he has some subject he’s trying to broach.

I do my best to keep our conversation light, though it’s hard.

No one seems to blame him for the Errintonian bandits’ actions. I do, though I know it’s ridiculous.

The mood of dinner is anything but festive. With Espin in the physician and Yuven’s care, the bandits in the dungeons, and the majority of the men still hunting for their dragon treasure, we’re not a joyful group.

Rigel turns to me again. “Pippa, I?— ”

“Yes?” I try to keep my tone light. Hoping to distract him, I say, “That’s a beautiful ring.”

He glances at his thumb. “Oh, yes. My grandfather crafted it.”

I nod, unsure what else I can say.

“He was a metalsmith,” Rigel continues. “It’s a skill that’s been handed down from generation to generation. His father taught mine, and mine taught me.”

“Errintonian armor is much sought after,” I say, and then I bite my lip. It was much sought after—when the metal was merged with dragon scales.

His sharp eyes seem to notice my discomfort, and a smile plays on his face. “The craft still exists. Our trade is a good one, even if the dragon armor is no longer possible.”

“Are there many smiths still plying their trade?”

He shakes his head.

“Why? Why have your people given up?”

Rigel angles toward me, and I must tell myself not to scoot away.

“Change is hard, Pippa. We will rebuild our kingdom. We will survive this.” There’s a fiery determination in his dark eyes.

“There’s ore in our mountains—an abundance of it.

I’ve created an alloy that is as strong as dragon steel and much lighter.

As a people, we’ve never experimented because we’ve never had to.

” His eyes bore into mine. “Now is our chance.”

I have a feeling this is what he’s been discussing so passionately with my father and brothers.

“Thank you,” I blurt out when, for the first time, I don’t see a monster in his gaze. “You didn’t have to stay silent?—”

He holds up his hand, and I shrink back.

“I don’t wish to discuss this, and I suggest you keep it quiet as well.”

I snap my mouth shut, and I feel thoroughly reprimanded. I glance down the table, wishing I was seated by someone else. I meet Lionel’s eyes. He’s wearing that possessive expression that drives me mad. I glare back at him, and he raises his glass to me in a mock toast.

Rigel clears his throat. “I am sorry for what happened to you.”

He looks uncomfortable and stiff. Is that all he’s been trying to say? Perhaps he knows how I blame him.

“It’s not your fault.” Even though I know it’s true, the words are hard to spit out.

“Your father has asked me what I wish done with them.”

Surprised, I glance from the napkin I’ve begun twisting again. “And what do you wish done with them?”

His eyes narrow. “I would have them drawn and quartered.”

I shiver, but I can’t say I completely disagree with the sentiment.

“But I wanted to ask what you would have me do.”

A sick feeling settles in my stomach. It’s never been up to me to decide a punishment.

I think on it. “Send them to your mountains to mine for that ore you speak of. They were lazy and greedy and chose thievery instead of honest work. I can think of no better punishment than a life of hard manual labor. Death is too easy for them.”

“I will ask your father. Ultimately he will make the final decision.”

I think of Marigold, still fighting off the effects of the poison. “Oh, and Lord Rigel? Give them each a good dose of maid-of-the-shadows and see how they like it.”

He smiles at that.