***
Ackley tossed Ben’s weapons into a heap.
“This way,” Barlow said. “To the prince.”
Ben followed him to the largest tent, positioned in the center of the camp. Inside, the Boy King sat in a cushioned, gilded chair, his arms crossed, green cape trimmed with braid—not dyed but made of real gold thread.
“So, I have a visitor?” His voice was high—surprisingly boyish. “Interesting, since I’ve already received a message from the queen today.” He rose and strode over to a desk in the corner of the tent, picked up a rolled-up paper, and cast it to the ground with a flourish. “First an insult, a threat to war, even as I journey to the castle at the queen’s request. And now this—invasion. You are no messenger of the queen, are you?”
Ben bowed deeply, though it pained him to do it. “No, Your Highness.” He couldn’t let the Boy King think this was a gesture of war. “But I assure you, we’re not—”
“Spies? Assassins? I will find out who you are, and there will be war! Make no mistake about that. Thievery! Low-down thievery! That’s what she’s accused me of. How would I steal a unicorn out of her own stable, when I was five days’ travel away at the time, you tell me that!”
No doubt the queen thought it had been a professional hired by the ruler of Eastland, perhaps to diminish Westland’s forces and to bolster their own, or perhaps just to mock her. If the rumors, and the queen, were right, that meant that someone with access to the key to the passage, with knowledge of its location, had passed these on to Westland’s enemies. Someone had ventured all the way into the Earth Land in order to help provoke this war.
Reynald gestured for Ben to rise. He leaned in, just inches from Ben’s face. “Soon enough, I’ll prove myself against Westland’s riders. There will be none who can match me!”
“You are a champion of tournaments.” Though Ben would’ve resorted to flattery if that was what it took to get them out of here alive, his statement was true.
“I am a champion of nearly every test of skill! All but the battlefield.”
Reynald was too young for a real battle against men; he wasn’t much older than Ben. Was he foolish enough to try? Was his father weak enough to allow it? How many men and women, how many unicorns, would die for his desire to engineer his own honor?
Ben looked the Boy King in the eye. He was not going to let that happen. He was going to have to tell him exactly who he was.
***
Reynald drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, staring at Ben, now seated in the simpler cushioned chair the Boy King had offered him.
“Ben of the Island. I always hoped we would meet. I never supposed it would be under such…interesting circumstances. My men told me you arrived on a runty old horse. Quite a step down for the son of Darian. I suppose the two of you haven’t managed to rein in any of the wild savages on that island after all. So much for the mighty ambitions of Westland’s most ardent herders.”
“My unicorn,” Ben ground out the words, “was stolen. Perhaps you could tell me something about that.”
“How, in the name of all the unicorns, do you think I could know you were coming back to Westland and send someone to steal your unicorn as you journeyed?”
Ben laughed humorlessly. “You didn’t have to know any such thing, since Indy wasn’t stolen from Terracornus!”
“Your unicorn was stolen from the island? You’re suggesting I have a whole band of thieves, one of whom I had sail all the way to the Earth Land?”
Ben struggled to hide his surprise. Few Terracornians knew how to get to the Earth Land. Only a handful of Westlanders, as far as Ben knew. It was a relief to know the Eastlanders hadn’t figured it out. But if Reynald’s ignorance—and his surprise at hearing Indy was taken from the Earth Land—was genuine, then he couldn’t be behind the thefts. If not Reynald, then who?
Ben shrugged, hiding his true thoughts. “You’re a man of many resources.”
Reynald got up and paced across the tent. Abruptly, he spun on Ben. “No one knows you’re here. I could kill you right now, and no one would know. I ought to, for such baseless insults!”
Ben wanted to smack the smirk right off his face. Instead he stood and smiled back. “Do you really think I’d travel with just one companion? That no one knows I’m here?”
Ben watched Reynald’s doubt grow. He would never guess that only an old herder knew where Ben was, and that even he had no idea exactly where Indy’s scent had led him. The Boy King couldn’t risk it. If word got out that he’d killed Ben on Westland soil, Reynald would never make it out of the country alive. He’d get the war he seemed to crave, but he’d be in his grave, and it would be his uncle fighting for glory instead, and no doubt taking the crown from the grieving King of Eastland.
“I’m on my way to the castle right now. It’s a surprise. I’d appreciate your keeping our little run-in quiet. Your men don’t need to know who I am either.”
“Why should I care about that? And why exactly are you here? Dressed like that?”
“I didn’t want to draw attention to myself.” Reynald snorted a laugh, but Ben ignored it. “I’ve been tracking a stolen unicorn. If the subject comes up, I’d hate to have to tell the queen his scent led me to you.”
Anger and fear flashed in Reynald’s eyes. Maybe Ben had played his cards right. Maybe Reynald wasn’t quite ready to declare war. At least, not until he was safely out of Westland.
Chapter 14
Twig blinked at the midday sunlight. The forest opened up to a grassy expanse. Emmie darted out of the trees and into the open sky. In the distance, atop a lone hill, the castle loomed. Its banners rippled, flamelike red and yellow, against a bright blue sky. A broad road led through the open grass to a dark circle of stone around the base of the hill—a massive wall. Behind the wall, chimneys puffed with smoke and the peaks of roofs formed zigzaggy rings.
Ben had cleared things up with the Eastlanders, and they’d served Twig and Ben a nice meal while Rain Cloud rested and Wonder recovered her senses. Then they’d headed out on their own and journeyed through the night, only stopping to doze for an hour or two.
“Herder’s Fort.” Ben nodded at the castle. “That’s what it was called before it was a city, what it was called for hundreds of years. Now the fort is a true castle, and it’s called Royal City. Come on. To the road.” Ben’s words were tight and tense.
With every one of Wonder’s hoofsteps on the good, firm ground, Twig imagined the muck sucking hungrily at Indy’s feet. Hold on, Indy. Please be safe. Let us find you safe.
As they neared the road, blobs of color slowly moving toward the wall sharpened and became groups of people, some driving large, sturdy, ox-driven carts, others riding donkeys, more straggling on foot.
“Are they all going to the castle?”
Ben pointed at a purple blur in the distance. “That banner above the main gate means it’s a tournament day. They’re headed to the competition grounds to watch the unicorns and their riders.”
“Ben, Merrill told me Wonder chose me to be her rider because she trusted me. What about those riders? What about all the unicorns here and in Eastland?”
“There are other ways. Ways to break them.” Ben ducked his face downward. He rode briskly onto the road, into the stream of people.
Twig bit back the rest of her questions. As they neared the wall, the stream of travelers slowed to a standstill and formed a line on each side of the gate, where a couple guards stood, looking people over, occasionally questioning, then giving a nod toward the gate. Their swords were sheathed at their hips, but each of them held a long, heavy stick in his hand.
They approached a guard, and his stick swung down, right between Twig and Ben, right in front of Wonder. Wonder snorted and tried to lunge, but Twig sternly held her back.
“Hold on there,” the guard said in a low voice.
Ben said, “She’s with me.”
The guard held the stick steady right in front of Twig. He gestured at Ben. Ben held an empty hand out and brought Rain Cloud closer to him. He tipped his head up and looked the man right in his face. An expression of recognition and surprise washed over the guard. He made a stuttering attempt at movement, but Ben whispered something that stopped him.
The guard hesitated, then nodded and withdrew his stick. Wonder stuck her nose up in the air as if to say, Ha! So there. Twig hurried her through the gate with Ben. “What just happened?”
“I got you through the gate, that’s what happened. Just be quiet and come on. He knows my face, from a long time ago. He thinks I’m going to see the queen.”
“Aren’t we?”
“We’re going to take that map.”
“Do you mean we’re going to steal it?”
With a snap of the reins, Ben turned away. “Yah, Rain Cloud. Let’s go!”
Twig’s stomach tightened. Wonder sensed it and neighed her concern. “It’s all right, girl. It’s going to be all right.” Twig stroked her neck as they followed Ben.
The road circled around the interior of the city wall, past the stone-walled shops that lined it and to a large expanse of lawn where dingy tents were pitched.
Beyond the scattered gray-white tents was a tighter, neater circle of larger tents, their fabric dyed a more respectable tawny color. And past those, the tops of bigger, brighter tents—red and blue and gold and green points—stuck up like the angles of cut gems.
“Those are the tents of the prize riders, the ones who are competing today.”
The crowd thickened with each layer of tents Twig and Ben worked their way through, until it became an unmoving mass that formed around some spectacle Twig couldn’t quite see. Ben dismounted, and Twig did the same. She gave Wonder a short lead. All along one side, elevated on an elaborately painted wooden platform, were seats. Twig strained to get a better look at who was sitting there. She bumped right into a young woman, hurrying by with a barefoot little child clinging to her back.
“Sorry,” Twig mumbled.
The child crinkled his nose at her and the woman gave Twig a perplexed look.
A greasy man shoved a greasier leg of what looked like a bird right in Twig’s face. “Five coppers! Only five coppers.”
It smelled good, and Twig’s stomach growled, but the grimy fingers grasping it were enough to convince her to refuse, even if she’d had five coppers—whatever those were.
“Um, no thanks.”
Again, she got a strange look in return.
Ben motioned her away. “Your accent, Twig. Don’t talk to anyone. You sound like a foreigner, but you’re dressed as a royal messenger.”
“Sorry. Shouldn’t we be heading for the castle?” she whispered.
“We are. We just need a safe place to leave these two while we get that map.”
“I can’t leave Wonder here! Can’t you get the map by yourself?”
“I cannot leave you out here. Don’t worry. Merrill’s nephew, Pete, is here. He’ll keep an eye on them. We just have to find him.”
“Why didn’t you have Emmie send him a message?”
“It would’ve drawn too much attention at the castle, and the message could’ve ended up in the wrong hands.”
“Where’d Emmie go, anyway?” Twig scanned the sky until she saw the familiar bright green blur of wings. Emmie settled atop the highest of the wooden platforms, a square-walled red tent in the center of the two largest enclosures.
Ben stiffened. “There’s the queen, watching the tournament. This is just a warm-up before Prince Reynald’s arrival. She’ll put on an even bigger show for her guests. One that shows off the skill of her riders, the quality of her unicorns.”
Though the long side of the red, tentlike viewing platform was open, from her angle, Twig could catch only glimpses of the brightly clothed figures inside.
“Here.” Ben shoved Rain Cloud’s lead into her hands. “I see Pete. I’ll be right back.”
Ben strode toward the gem-colored tents. Twig stood there and wondered if she should follow him whether he liked it or not. She was just about to run after him when a tall young man wearing a bright red uniform stepped in front of him. On their journey here, Ben had explained to her that these men were royal guards. He’d told her to avoid them, and now he’d been stopped by one of them.
Ben pointed, and the guard looked right at Twig. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and tried not to look guilty. The guard began working his way away from the tents. Ben waved Twig over, then began following the guard at a distance. Twig tried to read his face for signs of warning. She didn’t know what else to do, so she ran to Ben, bringing the pony and the unicorn with her at a trot, hoping they weren’t caught.
“Slow down,” Ben whispered. “Just look casual.”
“What are we doing?”
“That’s Pete.” Ben nodded at the guard, who was moving briskly through the crowd, out of the tournament grounds. “He’s going to slip Wonder and Rain Cloud into the messengers’ stables.”
“Merrill’s nephew is a royal guard? But, Ben, how do you know whose side he’s on?”
“I know Pete. Don’t worry. Not everyone around the queen is willing to turn me—or any unicorns—in.”
He took Rain Cloud’s lead, grabbed Twig’s sleeve, and tugged her along with him.
Wonder began to toss her head and snort, kicking up dust and clumps of trampled grass, drawing stares. Twig tried to calm her, but she leaped so suddenly, so high, Twig launched up in the air, then thumped down and skidded across her belly, right into a wooden fence. Wonder’s lead bit into Twig’s hand, but she refused to let go. She coughed out a mouthful of dust.
Right on the other side of the fence, just inches from Twig’s nose, a hoof flew, kicking a new cloud of dust right into her face. Twig yelped, then choked. Rain Cloud neighed at Wonder, and the tension on her lead eased. Ben grabbed Twig by the collar and pulled her up.
As she stood, the crowd roared. At her? No—at the competition area inside the fence. There was a snap-crash, then a unicorn bolted past. Jagged splinters of brightly painted wood protruded from his horn. It looked as though they were jousting, only instead of the riders holding lances, they bore only shields, while the unicorns’ horns were fitted with lancelike wooden extensions. The horn’s brilliant natural spiral was visible only in the glimpses between the black leather straps that held the remains of the false point in place. The unicorn nimbly dodged first the fallen body of his rider, then the wooden obstacle—similar to the jumps in modern horse races—that had been placed in his path.
Unicorns fighting. That’s what had set Wonder off. Rain Cloud nipped a warning at Wonder to stay out of it, then pawed at the ground, looking from Ben to Twig. Get us out of here, that look said.
“It’s all right, you two,” Ben told the animals. “We’ll be on our way now.”
He offered a fold of his tunic to Twig. He pointed at her face. Twig stood there, motionless, staring at the dry, broken ground on the other side of the barrier. There was blood in that dust.
The victorious pair danced around their remaining obstacles, to the finish line. The unicorn raised a pair of hooves, painted to match his rider’s colors, and his rider held on tight with one hand and pumped the other up in a fist of mail before the crowd.
Ben wiped the dirt from Twig’s face himself. Twig wanted to hide her face in his tunic, to shield her eyes forever from the violent spectacle. She caught Ben’s arm as he pulled away.
“Does Indy know how to do that? What if the unicorn thief still has him? Is he going to—”
“That’s how it is when men use unicorns to fight their battles. And even this is just a game, nothing compared to real battle. I don’t think a thief would take him into the Death Swamp. Indy must’ve gotten away. Eith
er way, we have to find him, fast.”
Twig reached for Wonder’s horn cap. It was still in place—for now. She could feel the pressure of Wonder’s horn underneath it, making the metal bulge. She slipped her arm around Wonder’s neck and whispered calmly.
Twig looked up at Ben. “We’ll find Indy.”
Ben just nodded. “We’d better catch up with Pete.”
***
Pete had Merrill’s eyes. Eyes that tempted Twig to trust him. But this was her Wonder Light, her unicorn.
And Ben’s unicorn was still missing, probably trapped in the Death Swamp. Twig took a deep breath and handed Wonder over to Pete. She tossed her head at him and bared her teeth.
But Rain Cloud had already decided Pete knew how to behave himself around animals. He whickered at Wonder, calming her down.
“Just make sure you keep them together,” Twig said.
“I’ll take good care of these two. They’ll be right here waiting for you.” Pete closed the stall door. The pony and the unicorn were together, in the back of the half-empty messengers’ stable.
“We won’t be long,” Ben said. “Come on, Twig. We’d better go. They just announced the final joust. The queen always hosts a banquet after the tournament. The kitchen will be busy right now. That’s where we’re going to try to get in, while they’re distracted and preoccupied with the preparations.”
Twig’s stomach growled, and she wrapped her arms around it. “Will we get to eat at this banquet?”
Ben rolled his eyes at Twig.
“Could be it’s not such a bad idea, going to that banquet,” Pete said hopefully.
Ben shook his head. “Not you too. We’re not going to any banquet. I’m here for a map, not to play diplomat.”
Chapter 15
Twig followed close behind Ben. He wove expertly through the narrow streets, into an alley piled high along both sides with barrels and crates. Shouts and smells billowed from an open doorway—bread and spices, meat and garbage, laughter and scolding.
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