below. One wore a tunic of deep russet, another pale yellow with a surcoat of bright green. Some wore purple sashes, and others crimson hose. Despite the bright colors, these were elegant and finely made garments, with nothing loud or gaudy about them. There were eleven riders with the Queen, all similar in appearance, tall, youthful, and lithe in movement.
The Queen turned from the Duke and said something in her musical language. The elf steeds reared in salute, then ran through the gate, past the surprised onlookers. The Duke ushered his guests inside, and soon the crowd drifted away. Tomas and Pug sat quietly in the rain.
Tomas said, ‘If I live to be a hundred, I don’t think that I’ll ever see her like.’
Pug was surprised, for his friend rarely showed such feelings. He had a brief impulse to chide Tomas over his boyish infatuation, but something about his companion’s expression made that seem inappropriate. ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘we’re getting drenched.’
Tomas followed Pug from the wagon. Pug said, ‘You had better change into some dry clothing, and see if you can borrow a dry tabard.’
Tomas said, ‘Why?’
With an evil grin, Pug said, ‘Oh? Didn’t I tell you? The Duke wants you to dine with the court. He wants you to tell the Elf Queen what you saw on the ship.’
Tomas looked as if he were going to break down and run. ‘Me? Dine in the great hall?’ His face went white. ‘Talk? To the Queen?’
Pug laughed with glee. ‘It’s easy. You open your mouth and words come out.’
Tomas swung a roundhouse at Pug, who ducked under the blow, grabbing his friend from behind when he spun completely around. Pug had strength in his arms even if he lacked Tomas’s size, and he easily picked his larger friend off the ground. Tomas struggled, and soon they were laughing uncontrollably. ‘Pug, put me down.’
‘Not until you calm down.’
‘I’m all right.’
Pug put him down. ‘What brought that on?’
‘Your smug manner, and not telling me until the last minute.’
‘All right. So I’m sorry I waited to tell you. Now what’s the rest of it?’
Tomas looked uncomfortable, more than was reasonable from the rain. ‘I don’t know how to eat with quality folk. I’m afraid I’ll do something stupid.’
‘It’s easy. Just watch me and do what I do. Hold the fork in your left hand and cut with the knife. Don’t drink from the bowls of water; they’re to wash with, and use them a lot, because your hands will get greasy from the rib bones. And make sure you toss the bones over your shoulder to the dogs, and not on the floor in front of the Duke’s table. And don’t wipe your mouth on your sleeves, use the tablecloth, that’s what it’s for.’
They walked toward the soldiers’ commons, with Pug giving his friend instruction on the finer points of court manners. Tomas was impressed at the wealth of Pug’s knowledge.
Tomas vacillated between looking sick and pained. Each time someone regarded him, he felt as if he had been found guilty of the most grievous breach of etiquette and looked sick. Whenever his gaze wandered to the head table and he caught sight of the Elf Queen, his stomach tied up in knots and he looked pained.
Pug had arranged for Tomas to sit next to him at one of the more removed tables from the Duke’s. Pug’s usual place was at Lord Borric’s table, next to the Princess. He was glad for this chance to be away from her, for she still showed displeasure with him. Usually she chatted with him about the thousand little bits of gossip the ladies of the court found so interesting, but last night she had pointedly ignored him, lavishing all her attention on a surprised and obviously pleased Roland. Pug found his own reaction puzzling, relief mixed with a large dose of irritation. While he felt relieved to be free of her wrath, he found Roland’s fawning upon her a bothersome itch he couldn’t scratch.
Pug had been troubled by Roland’s hostility toward him of late, poorly hidden behind stiff manners. He had never been as close to Roland as Tomas had, but they had never before had cause to be angry with one another. Roland had always been one of the crowd of boys Pug’s age. He had never hidden behind his rank when he had cause to be at odds with the common boys, always standing ready to settle the matter in whatever way proved necessary. And already being an experienced fighter when he arrived in Crydee, his differences soon were settled peacefully as often as not. Now there was this dark tension between Pug and Roland, and Pug found himself wishing he was Tomas’s equal in fighting; Tomas was the only boy Roland was unable to best with fists, their one encounter ending quickly with Roland receiving a sound thumping. For as certain as the sun was rising in the morning, Pug knew a confrontation with the hotheaded young Squire was quickly approaching. He dreaded it, but knew once it came, he’d feel relief.
Pug glanced at Tomas, finding his friend lost in his own discomfort. Pug returned his attention to Carline. He felt overwhelmed by the Princess, but her allure was tempered by a strange discomfort he felt whenever she was near. As beautiful as he found her – her black locks and blue eyes igniting some very uncomfortable flames of imagination – the images were always somehow hollow, colorless at heart, lacking the amber-and-rose glow such daydreams had possessed when Carline had been a distant, unapproachable, and unknown figure. Observing her closely for even as short a time as he had recently made such idealized musing impossible. She was proving herself to be just too complicated to fit into simple daydreams. On the whole he found the question of the Princess troublesome, but seeing her with Roland made him forget his internal conflicts over her, as a less intellectual, more basic emotion came to the fore. He was becoming jealous.
Pug sighed, shaking his head as he thought about his own misery at this moment, ignoring Tomas’s. At least, thought Pug, I’m not alone. To Roland’s obvious discomfort, Carline was deeply involved at the moment in conversation with Prince Calin of Elvandar, son of Aglaranna. The Prince seemed to be the same age as Arutha, or Lyam, but then so did his mother, who appeared to be in her early twenties. All the elves, except the Queen’s seniormost adviser, Tathar, were quite young looking, and Tathar looked no older than the Duke.
When the meal was over, most of the Duke’s court retired. The Duke rose and offered his arm to Aglaranna and led those who had been ordered to attend them to his council chamber.
For the third time in two days, the boys found themselves in the Duke’s council chamber. Pug was more relaxed about being there than before, thanks in part to the large meal, but Tomas seemed more disturbed than ever. If the taller boy had spent the hour before dinner staring at the Elf Queen, in these close quarters he seemed to be looking everywhere but in her direction. Pug thought Aglaranna noticed Tomas’s behavior and smiled slightly, but he couldn’t be sure.
The two elves who came with the Queen, Calin and Tathar, went at once to the side table that held the bowl and the artifacts taken from the Tsurani soldier. They examined them closely, fascinated by every detail.
The Duke called the meeting to order, and the two elves came to chairs on either side of the Queen. Pug and Tomas stood by the door as usual.
The Duke said, ‘We have told you what has occurred as well as we know, and now you have seen proof with your own eyes. If you think it would be helpful, the boys can recount the events on the ship.’
The Queen inclined her head, but it was Tathar who spoke. ‘I would like to hear the story firsthand, Your Grace.’
Borric
