and now he was suddenly aware of the contact, and her soft, warm appeal. A protective, masculine feeling welled up inside him, and he started to step toward her.
As if sensing his mood change, Carline retreated. For all her courtly ways and education, she was still a girl of fifteen and was disturbed by the rush of emotions she had experienced when he had held her. She took refuge in the one thing she knew well, her role as Princess of the castle. Trying to sound commanding, she said, ‘I am glad to see you are unhurt, boy.’ Pug winced visibly at that. She struggled to regain her aristocratic bearing, but her red nose and tearstained face undermined her attempt. ‘Find my horse, and we shall return to the keep.’
Pug felt as if his nerves were raw. Keeping tight control over his voice, he said, ‘I’m sorry, Your Highness, but the horses have run off. I’m afraid we’ll have to walk.’
Carline felt abused and mistreated. It was not Pug’s fault any of the afternoon’s events had taken place, but her often-indulged temper seized on the handiest available object. ‘Walk! I can’t walk all the way to the keep,’ she snapped, looking at Pug as if he were supposed to do something about this matter at once and without question.
Pug felt all the anger, confusion, hurt, and frustration of the day surge up within him. ‘Then you can bloody well sit here until they notice you’re missing and send someone to fetch you.’ He was now shouting. ‘I figure that will be about two hours after sunset.’
Carline stepped back, her face ashen, looking as if she’d been slapped. Her lower lip trembled, and she seemed on the verge of tears again. ‘I will not be spoken to in that manner, boy.’
Pug’s eyes grew large, and he stepped toward her, gesturing with the wine bottle. ‘I nearly got myself killed trying to keep you alive,’ he shouted. ‘Do I hear one word of thanks? No! All I hear is a whining complaint that you can’t walk back to the castle. We of the keep may be lowborn, but at least we have enough manners to thank someone when it’s deserved.’ As he spoke, he could feel the anger flooding out of him. ‘You can stay here if you like, but I’m going …’ He suddenly realized that he was standing with the bottle raised high overhead, in a ridiculous pose. The Princess’s eyes were on the loaf of bread, and he realized that he was holding it at his belt, thumb hooked in a loop, which only added to the awkward appearance. He sputtered for a moment, then felt his anger evaporate and lowered the bottle. The Princess looked at him, her large eyes peeking over her fists, which she held before her face. Pug started to say something, thinking she was afraid of him, when he saw she was laughing. It was a musical sound, warm and unmocking. ‘I’m sorry, Pug,’ she said, ‘but you look so silly standing there like that. You look like one of those awful statues they erect in Krondor, with bottle held high instead of a sword.’
Pug shook his head. ‘I’m the one who’s sorry, Your Highness. I had no right to yell at you that way. Please forgive me.’
Her expression abruptly changed to one of concern. ‘No, Pug. You had every right to say what you did. I really do owe you my life, and I’ve acted horribly.’ She stepped closer to him and placed a hand on his arm. ‘Thank you.’
Pug was overcome by the sight of her face. Any resolutions to rid himself of his boyhood fantasies about her were now carried away on the sea breeze. The marvelous fact of his using magic was replaced by more urgent and basic considerations. He started to reach for her; then the reality of her station intruded, and he presented the bottle to her. ‘Wine?’
She laughed, sensing his sudden shift in thought. They were both wrung out and a little giddy from the ordeal, but she still held on to her wits and understood the effect she was having on him. With a nod she took the bottle and sipped. Recovering a shred of poise, Pug said, ‘We’d better hurry. We might make the keep by nightfall.’
She nodded, keeping her eyes upon him, and smiled. Pug was feeling uncomfortable under her gaze and turned toward the way to the keep. ‘Well, then. We’d best be off.’
She fell into step beside him. After a moment she asked, ‘May I have some bread too, Pug?’
Pug had run the distance between the bluffs and the keep many times before, but the Princess was unused to walking such distances, and her soft riding boots were ill suited to such an undertaking. When they came into view of the castle, she had one arm draped over Pug’s shoulder and was limping badly.
A shout went up from the gate tower, and guards came running toward them. After them came the Lady Marna, the girl’s governess, her red dress pulled up before her as she sprinted toward the Princess. Although twice the size of court ladies – and a few of the guards as well – she outdistanced them all. She was coming on like a she-bear whose cub was being attacked. Her great bosom heaved with the effort as she reached the slight girl and grasped her in a hug that threatened to engulf Carline completely. Soon the ladies of the court were gathered around the Princess, overwhelming her with questions. Before the din subsided, Lady Marna turned and fell on Pug like the sow bear she resembled. ‘How dare you allow the Princess to come to such a state! Limping in, dress all torn and dirty. I’ll see you whipped from one end of the keep to the other. Before I have done with you, you’ll wish you’d never seen the light of day.’ Backing away before the onslaught, Pug was overwhelmed by confusion, unable to get a word in. Sensing that somehow Pug was responsible for the Princess’s condition, one of the guards stepped up and seized him by the arm.
‘Leave him alone!’
Silence descended as Carline forced her way between the governess and Pug. Small fists struck at the guard as he let go of Pug and fell back with a look of astonishment on his face. ‘He saved my life! He almost got killed saving me.’ Tears were running down her face. ‘He’s done nothing wrong. And I won’t have any of you bullying him.’ The crowd closed in around them, regarding Pug with newfound respect. Hushed voices sounded from all sides, and one of the guards ran to carry the news to the castle. The Princess placed her arm around Pug’s shoulder once more and started toward the gate. The crowd parted, and the two weary travelers could see the torches and lanterns being lit on the wall.
By the time they had reached the courtyard gate, the Princess had consented to let two of her ladies help her, much to Pug’s relief. He could not have believed that such a slight girl could become such a burden. The Duke hurried out to her, having been told of Carline’s return. He embraced his daughter, then started to speak with her. Pug lost sight of them as curious, questioning onlookers surrounded him. He tried to push his way toward the magician’s tower, but the press of people held him back.
‘Is there no work to be done?’ a voice roared.
Heads turned to see Swordmaster Fannon, followed closely by Tomas. All the keep folk quickly retired, leaving Pug standing before Fannon, Tomas, and those of the Duke’s court with rank enough to ignore Fannon’s remark. Pug could see the Princess talking to her father, Lyam, Arutha, and Squire Roland. Fannon said, ‘What happened, boy?’
Pug tried to speak, but stopped when he saw the Duke and his sons approaching. Kulgan came hurrying behind the Duke, having been alerted by the general commotion in the courtyard. All bowed to the Duke when he approached, and Pug saw Carline break free of Roland’s solicitations and follow her father, to stand at Pug’s side. Lady Mama threw a besieged look heavenward, and Roland followed the girl, an open expression of surprise upon his face. When the Princess took Pug’s hand in her own, Roland’s expression changed to one of black-humored jealousy.
The Duke said, ‘My daughter has said some very remarkable things about you, boy. I would like to hear your account.’ Pug felt suddenly self-conscious and gently disengaged his hand from Carline’s. He recounted the events of the day, with Carline enthusiastically adding embellishments. Between the two
