The Sixth Strand

by Melissa McPhail

  But he’d never quite seen her like this. She was wearing a velvet gown whose color alternated between purple and a sort of eggplant. It made her brown eyes look almost violet.

  Her flaxen waves had been gathered into in an elaborate plait, the kind that probably took a gazillion hours to weave—thirteen hells, what a total pain it must’ve been to be a girl—but with her hair like that and her dress clinging to her slender curves...well, she looked really...nice.

  Ean shoved his hair out of his eyes. “He’s too old for her.”

  Creighton was gazing at the pair rather raptly. Ean had no doubt his blood-brother would’ve rather been staring at Katerine val Mallonwey, but she’d vanished somewhere with her mother. “Seventeen’s not so old,” Cray said dreamily.

  Ean gave him a sooty look.

  Creighton shook himself out of whatever dream he’d been in and focused on him. “Besides, you’re too young to marry.”

  “I don’t want to marry her, for Epiphany’s sake. I just want to kiss her.” Ean added pointedly, “We’re both thirteen. That’s not too young to kiss.”

  “True. Trell’s probably kissed her a bunch of times.”

  Ean shoved him.

  Creighton laughed and resettled himself cross-legged beside Ean, his sharp features focused on the current focus of Ean’s angst. “Ean...” Cray glanced his way wearing his I-really-think-you-need-to-listen-to-me expression, “you know you only like her so much now because she’s betrothed to Trell.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Admit it. You’re still smarting from the horse.”

  The truth of that hit like an arrow to his heart. Ean flung a deeply injured look at Cray. “Why did he make me train the horse if he was just going to give him to Trell?”

  “His Majesty never told you he was giving the horse to you.”

  “But then why did he have me train him?”

  Ean couldn’t let go of it. All those hours spent learning each other’s ways, developing a rapport, earning the Hallovian’s respect...the trust he’d seen in Caldar’s big brown eyes...and when all was said and done, what did his father do but give his horse to Trell!

  The chagrin choked him. The loss made him sick. He laid in bed every night unable to sleep for thinking about it.

  “Caldar should’ve been mine,” Ean said in a choked voice. “I trained him. He trusts me.”

  Creighton laid a hand on Ean’s arm. “How do you know Trell didn’t train your brother’s horse the same way? There must be some purpose in it. His Majesty never does things without good reason.”

  Ean glowered at him. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

  Creighton knuckled him in the shoulder. “No matter how questionable your motives or your logic?”

  “Exactly. That’s what blood brothers are for.”

  Creighton shook his head. “As your blood brother, it’s my responsibility to point out when you’re being an ass.”

  Ean’s eyes flew wide. “I’m being an ass?” He flung a hand at Trell, who was now firing off arrow after arrow into the red center of the bull’s eye to the accompaniment of Alyneri’s shy applause.

  Then he gave Creighton a pointed, care-to-reconsider-that-assessment? stare, grabbed his own bow and quiver and stormed off into the woods.

  Creighton caught up with him about five minutes later as Ean was jumping a path of rocks across a creek. “You have to admit your brother’s a good shot,” he called from the opposite bank.

  “I’m a good shot.”

  “I’m not saying you’re not, Ean.”

  “You weren’t saying I was.” He jumped to the next rock.

  Cray considered him for a moment. Then he said as he followed Ean across the creek, “You know, this reminds me of a story of Annwn.”

  “Annwn.” Ean glanced over his shoulder before jumping again. “As in the Extian Doors and the Returning and all that Agasi blarney?”

  Cray jumped to the stone Ean had just vacated. “You know the Returning isn’t myth.”

  “Whatever. Is that the Annwn you mean?”

  “Well, the name’s the same, but according to my mother’s people—they’re Hallovian, you may recall.” He knew full well that Ean did. “You know, where that horse you’re so enamored of came from? Anyway, Annwn is the name of the Otherworld in Hallovian legends.”

  Ean jumped to the opposite bank and turned to face him. “Okay, what about it?”

  Cray soon joined him. “There’s this story about the prince of Doved who changed places with the prince of Annwn for a year, each pretending to be the other.”

  They started off through the forest side by side. Ean adjusted his quiver, which he had slung diagonally across his chest, and glanced to his friend. “Changed places how? Did they look alike?”

  “The faery prince of Annwn—his name was Arathan—used his magic to make the peoples of each land think they were looking at their own prince.” Cray picked up a branch and started stripping the dead leaves from it while they walked. “Anyway, the prince of Doved—his name was Padryn—earned Arathan’s trust because the whole time he was pretending to be him, he didn’t sleep with his wife.”

  Ean gave him a screwy look. “How are you reminded of that story?”

  “Because Arathan gave Padryn a magic horse to thank him.”

  “Ah.” Ean rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. The horse’s name was Caldar.”

  Creighton grinned.

  The prince looked him over narrowly. “How is this supposed to make me feel better?”

  “Dunno.” Creighton shrugged. “I just like the story.”

  Trudging moodily across the carpet of leaves, Ean pulled an arrow from his quiver and plucked at the fletching. Spring was still new enough in the trees that the sun came pouring down on them between the branches. It would be many months before the canopy was so full that Ean could walk there in constant shadow, and by then, Trell would be gone to the south, to M’Nador, to fulfill the diplomatic role he’d trained for all his life.

  As they walked on in silence, passing beyond the boundaries of their usual haunts, Ean brooded on everything Creighton had said.

  In truth, he didn’t begrudge his brother the gift of Caldar. He just...well, if he was being perfectly honest with himself...he just wished that Alyneri might’ve looked at him the way she’d been looking at Trell.

  A loud rustling ahead froze both boys. Ean’s hand slowly went for his bow...

  But it was only Katerine val Mallonwey and her mother, the Lady Fallon, who practically fell out of a copse of saplings, tripping and tugging at their skirts. The matching color of the ladies’ auburn hair was unmistakable, even from a distance.

  Katerine and her mother appeared flushed, and they clutched at each other’s arms. Both seemed very out of place, stumbling across the forest’s crude carpet in courtly slippers meant for gardens and ballrooms.

  The duchess was the first to lay her eyes upon the boys. “Thank Epiphany!” Relief fairly exploded out of her. She took her daughter’s hand and moved decorously towards Ean. “I feared we’d become lost. Your Highness has truly come to our rescue. I was beginning to suspect some feral creature was following us.”

  Ean bowed politely to the ladies. “Your Grace, Lady Katerine.”

  “Prince Ean,” the latter said with a demure smile, though her green eyes never left Creighton’s face. His blood-brother beamed.

  Ean surreptitiously elbowed him, whereupon Cray recovered himself and murmured bashful greetings to the Lady Fallon before going wordless again staring at Katerine.

  Lady Fallon meanwhile glanced around nervously. “Your Highness...I wonder if you and Lord Khelspath might escort us back to the others?” She eyed the arrow still clenched in Ean’s fist. “That is, if it wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience.”

  Ean gave her a little bow. “It would be our pleasure, Your Grace.” He turned and motioned them off.

  They hadn’t gone far when Ean noticed Cray angling him a half-smile
. “What?” he whispered, though he knew well enough what his blood-brother was smirking about. He added plaintively under his breath, “Trell’s not the only one who knows proper etiquette with ladies of the court.”

  A grinning Creighton whispered back, “A first-rate courtier, you are.”

  In truth, Ean wasn’t sure he was doing this escort business exactly right. Technically, he thought he and Creighton were supposed to each have a lady on their arm, but Katerine and her mother were still clutching to each other, and Ean didn’t think breaking them up would be the prudent approach.

  He made a mental note to ask his chivalry instructor what would be the proper etiquette when you met frightened ladies in the forest? Maybe he was supposed to have a horse.

  He couldn’t take them back the way he and Creighton had come, because the ladies would never be able to navigate the stream. Ean accordingly went a different direction that he thought would get them there...only they hit a ravine cutting through the trail and had to change course around it, which put them heading west instead of south.

  At least he could easily navigate by the angle of the sun. Yet too soon, he felt, it was falling on its arc and casting long rays through the trees. The ladies were all atwitter about the golden light and how everything looked so lovely and gilded. Ean wasn’t feeling the love for the forest just then.

  “Where in Tiern’aval are we?” Creighton whispered in Ean’s ear. “Aren’t we going the wrong direction?”

  “Well, it’s not the right one.” Ean eyed the ravine they were skirting. It seemed to go on endlessly in both directions.

  Forever after, he couldn’t figure out how Katerine managed to trip in such a spectacular fashion as to dump herself precisely into the ravine, but the next thing he knew, she was screaming, rolling and sliding down the steep-sided incline amid an avalanche of dry leaves and scrub.

  The boys went in after her while her mother shouted her name from above.

  At the bottom, Creighton helped Katerine to her feet. She had leaves in her hair but didn’t seem to be bleeding anywhere. That was the first thing you were supposed to check for. And broken bones.

  “Is anything broken?” Ean affected the concerned expression his mother always used after she’d caught him doing something particularly foolhardy and dangerous.

  Katerine looked dazed as she brushed at her dress. “I...I don’t think so.”

  Cray pulled a leaf out of her dark red hair with painstaking care.

  She turned large green eyes to meet his. “My ankle hurts.”

  That’s when they heard the growl.

  Katerine spun and simultaneously cried out as her ankle gave under her weight. Creighton barely caught her before she fell. He said something under his breath that he was not ever supposed to say in front of a lady.

  And the mountain lion moved out of the underbrush, baring her teeth.

  Katerine screamed.

  Lady Fallon screamed.

  The cat’s growl accelerated into a roar. It flattened its ears against its head, and those terrible teeth shone all too plainly.

  “Move back—slowly.” Ean grabbed Katerine around the waist because she was absolutely frozen, staring at the huge cat. She whimpered as she began limping off with him.

  “By the Lady, that thing is big.” Creighton’s eyes were fair saucers, staring at it.

  On the ravine rim, the Lady Fallon was still screaming.

  Ean shot her a tense look. “My lady, please!” His own heart was beating fast. One wrong move, and the cat would be on them like as to a hare.

  The mountain lion snarled again, more fiercely than before, and they froze. It seemed that any move they made only increased the cat’s agitation.

  “It must be a female protecting her cubs.” Creighton turned Ean an uneasy look.

  Running afoul of a mother protecting her cubs was just about the worst-case scenario for a wild animal encounter.

  Katerine was still whimpering. Creighton wrapped his arm around her shoulders and leaned to whisper to Ean, “We need to scare her off.”

  Ean looked incredulously at him. “Using what? Your terrible sense of humor?”

  “Shoot an arrow at her.”

  “Are you out of your mind?”

  “No! You can’t!” Katerine gasped, suddenly surprisingly lucid.

  “She’s right. I can’t.” He flicked a heated look between Creighton and Katerine.

  Creighton held his gaze. “We have to scare her off, Ean.”

  Kat clutched at Ean’s arm. “What if you hit her?”

  “Ean’s a good shot. He won’t hit her.” Creighton looked pointedly back to him, trying to seem calm and composed, but Ean could tell he was just as scared. “Just...put it at her feet. You know...cover our egress.”

  They’d played at escape scenarios plenty of times in their adventuring, but this was real, and the big cat was looking more enraged with every passing second.

  Ean met Creighton’s gaze. “It might just anger her more.”

  “Do you have a better idea?” he whispered hotly.

  Ean looked back to the huge cat, who was still snarling and baring her teeth at them. His heart was racing. Any more nerves and he wouldn’t be able to hold his bow still. “Fine. Get behind me.”

  He slowly nocked arrow to bow to the accompanying snarl-growl of the mother cat. He could feel the blood pounding in his temples and a sick unease in his stomach, but at least his hand didn’t shake as he took aim.

  “Come on, Katerine,” Creighton whispered behind him. Ean sensed them moving off.

  He aimed a foot in front of the mother cat and slightly left to be sure he didn’t hit her. Here goes nothing...

  The arrow twanged into the earth exactly where he’d expected it to. The cat hissed and swatted it with razor claws, and it flew askew.

  She hunkered into a tighter crouch and roared again, even louder.

  Further behind Ean, Katerine whimpered against Creighton’s shoulder.

  Ean shakily lowered his bow. They couldn’t run, as the cat would certainly chase. Kat was in no condition to run anyway. On the hillside, Lady Fallon was alternating between blubbering and shouting desperately for help.

  Ean was feeling a faint sense of panic not at all assisted by the hysterical duchess when the thunder of hooves answered prayers he hadn’t even formed yet.

  Suddenly, Trell stormed Caldar down into the ravine with Alyneri clutching close to him. The duchess’s wailing changed abruptly to cries of encouragement.

  Trell heeled Caldar in a charge at the mountain lion, shouting and waving his sword. Ean was sure the horse would buck, but—Epiphany bless him—the brave animal charged right at the mother cat.

  She swiped once and snarled, then turned tail and vanished back into the thicket.

  Lady Fallon gave a cry of relief and sagged against a tree.

  The resulting silence felt achingly loud by comparison.

  Trell pranced Caldar back and forth a few more times to be sure the cat wasn’t planning to charge out again. Then he sheathed his sword and trotted Caldar over to where Ean stood with the others. His expression revealed care and concern, and no small measure of relief. “Are you three all right?”

  “Kat hurt her ankle,” Creighton said faintly. They were all shaken, all relieved, all awed by the spectacle of Ean’s older brother intimidating a mountain lion back into its den.

  Trell dismounted and then helped Alyneri do the same. For the first time, Ean noticed that his brother was nearly as tall as Sebastian had been before he left. How could he not have noticed that before?

  Alyneri went straight to Kat while Trell approached Ean.

  “What about you, Ean?” Trell bent his head to meet his gaze. “Are you all right?”

  Ean nodded. Why did he feel more disturbed at seeing the concern in his brother’s eyes than he had at staring down a lion?

  Trell took his arm in a strong grip. “That was incredibly brave.”

  Ean finally found his voice
. “What are you doing here? I mean—” it hadn’t sounded as grateful as he felt. “How did you—”

  “I noticed you two leaving.” His grey eyes lifted to include Creighton. “When you stayed gone for a while...” a smile hinted on his lips, “well, suffice it to say, I thought I ought to check on you.”

  He didn’t say it, but Ean saw it in his eyes. They were both thinking the same thing: if Sebastian had been there, he would’ve been the one coming in search, the one to save them from their mutual misadventures.

  But Sebastian was gone. They only had each other now.

  Ean threw his arms around his older brother. Trell hugged him tightly back.

  Alyneri came up to them, suddenly seeming possessed of far more than thirteen years. Sometimes she seemed so mature that Ean didn’t even know how to talk to her. Like right then—she was all business. She always got that way when she was doing anything with her talent.

  “My mother should see to Kat’s ankle as soon as possible, Your Highness,” Alyneri advised Trell. Then she smiled bashfully at Ean, like she hadn’t just ordered his princely brother like some lackey.

  “Right.” Trell made a quick assessment of the scene. “Ean, you take Kat back to the others on Caldar—he knows you best. Creighton and I will escort Alyneri and the duchess on foot.”

  Suddenly Ean didn’t begrudge his brother anything, not even his horse. “No...it should be you who rides him. He’s yours now, and you...” Ean glanced to the others, “you saved us.”

  Trell smiled. “I would’ve ended up in the soup if you hadn’t trained Caldar so well. Did you see him charge right at that cat?”

  Ean turned an admiring smile at Caldar. “Yeah. I saw him.”

  The Hallovian snorted and tossed his mane.

  Trell stroked the horse’s neck. “I’ve never seen a horse prouder to be what he is.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled.

  Then he focused a caring look on Alyneri. “Are you sure you’re fine to walk?”

  “I’m sure Prince Ean and Lord Khelspath will take good care of me in Your Highness’s stead.” Alyneri glanced shyly to Ean again, though her tone had sounded certain.

  “Fair enough. Well then, Kat? Shall we?”