The Royal Companion

by Tanya Bird

  He would take her apart any way he could. ‘I am afraid the horse holds all the talent. Kadmus is a spectator in every sense.’ Her eyes flicked past him in search for Tyron.

  ‘In that case, I must see this horse of his. I am in need of a new mount.’

  She pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, thinking. Thankfully, Tyron arrived and placed a hand on Pandarus’s shoulder.

  ‘Apparently Leksi is entering,’ he said, eyes only on Pandarus. ‘He has a new horse. Come join me for a laugh at his expense.’

  Pandarus did not take his eyes off Aldara. She did not dare look at Tyron.

  ‘No,’ he replied. ‘Aldara’s brother is here. Did you know she has a brother?’

  Tyron glanced at her. He knew of her brother. ‘She is not an orphan. I assumed she had family. What of it?’

  Pandarus took on a lighter tone. ‘Well, he has a horse here I am going to take a look at.’

  Aldara shook her head, but Tyron spoke before she could say anything further.

  ‘A farm horse? What on earth for?’

  It was no good. Aldara could see he was enjoying himself far too much and there was no way out of it now. To make matters worse, her brother was visible across the field, standing with some men from her village. Pandarus called his squire over and instructed him to fetch Kadmus.

  ‘Would the two of you care to join me?’ Pandarus asked, walking ahead of them.

  The three of them stepped down onto the wet grass and watched the conversation from a distance. They all saw Kadmus’ reluctance and confusion at the request, but soon the mare was trotting towards them, her tail lifted slightly and muscles toned from farm work. Her condition was immaculate. Aldara imagined Kadmus taking extra care with her that morning knowing she would be at the tournament. When they were close enough, Aldara heard a small whinny of recognition from Loda. That also did not go unnoticed by Pandarus.

  Kadmus lowered his head. ‘My lords,’ he said before looking to Aldara. ‘Sister,’ he added quietly.

  ‘Good day, Kadmus,’ she said. Her voice was barely audible, but she remained composed, because she had to. ‘Prince Pandarus was interested in viewing Loda. It seems there is a shortage of working horses at Archdale,’ she added in a light tone.

  ‘I am quite sure she is useless on your farm,’ Pandarus replied as he walked around her. ‘I see her as a hunter.’

  Kadmus looked at Aldara, confused. He was trying to read her wishes.

  Aldara tried again. ‘She is far too spirited for hunting, my lord. You would be greatly disappointed with her.’

  There was no way she could bear Pandarus on her horse, but Pandarus did not care about her wishes. He had had enough of the polite banter. Enough of her.

  ‘How much for the mare?’ he asked Kadmus.

  ‘Brother, you do not need another hunting horse,’ Tyron said.

  Kadmus spoke up then. ‘I apologise, my lord, but the mare is not for sale. She is needed on the farm.’

  Aldara blinked with relief.

  ‘Everything has a price,’ Pandarus insisted. ‘Right, Aldara?’

  ‘Not everything, my lord,’ she said, looking away for a moment.

  ‘Tell you what,’ said Pandarus. ‘I will race you for her.’

  Kadmus studied his sister, noting her panicked expression. ‘In the flag race, my lord? I have not raced before, nor has the mare.’

  Pandarus placed a hand on Loda, who stirred beneath his touch. ‘If you win, you keep her, and I will give you the mare’s worth in silver. If I win, I will buy the mare from you at a fair price. Either way, you get paid.’

  Tyron interrupted. ‘Perhaps we should make it a fairer race. I will ride on behalf of Kadmus. There will be no honour in beating an inexperienced farmhand on his workhorse,’ he added.

  Pandarus thought the suggestion over for a moment. ‘You would race on behalf of a stranger you have just met? Very noble, brother, even for you.’

  Kadmus was about to decline the offer, but a gentle shake of the head from Aldara quietened him. Pandarus sent word to the timekeeper, and the challenge was announced to the spectators. Two princes had never competed against one another in the history of the tournament. The excitement moved over the crowd like a wave.

  ‘Have the mare paraded while we prepare,’ Pandarus said to Kadmus.

  He glanced at Aldara one last time before leaving them. Tyron went to follow after him, and Aldara placed her hand on his arm. He stopped and looked at her.

  ‘Your horse will not win against his,’ she said.

  Her touch was light, yet her hand anchored him. ‘I’m quite aware of that,’ he replied. ‘I will borrow Leksi’s.’

  She retracted her hand. ‘Thank you,’ she said, exhaling. ‘I am so sorry.’

  ‘Don’t thank me yet.’

  He walked away without a backward glance. Loda was unsaddled, cleaned up, and led out onto the field by a groom. The applause unsettled her, and her handler was struggling to keep hold of her. This increased the excitement of the crowd, if that was possible. Aldara re-entered the berfrois and held on to a table, trying to keep herself steady. Hali rushed up next to her, asking questions she could not process. All she could do was watch her overwhelmed mare, panicking in the hands of a stranger.

  ‘If Pandarus wins, Loda will become meat for his hunting dogs,’ Aldara said. ‘He has no other use for her. It’s all about winning.’

  ‘The tournament?’ Hali asked, confused.

  ‘Not just the tournament.’ Her eyes remained on Loda.

  ‘For God’s sake, let him have the horse,’ Hali pleaded, finally understanding. ‘Let him have this small win now. Then perhaps he will move on.’

  But it was not a small win. It was another part of her he would own.

  When the trumpet sounded, Hali forced Aldara into a nearby seat. An unmasked Pandarus appeared near the timekeeper on a magnificent chestnut gelding. Hali shook her head, confused.

  ‘Why has he taken his mask off? I thought the point was to conceal your identity.’

  Aldara could barely look at him. ‘Because it’s now a race between two princes, and he wants everyone to know who they are watching.’

  The horn sounded, and the gelding leapt forward without delay. Pandarus manoeuvred the horse around each flag like a snake moving through dense forest. It was almost effortless. Aldara was not surprised when he finished the race with the best time of the day. The crowd erupted into applause, and she was forced to slap her hands together in an awkward rhythm as she tried to clap for him. Hali was a little more believable, but only a little.

  Tyron rode up to the timekeeper on Leksi’s brown mare. He was masked, but he fooled no one. The horn sounded, and Tyron swept forward with incredible ease, handling the unfamiliar horse with no difficulty. At the third flag, the timekeeper raised his arm, confirming Tyron was ahead of the best time. He gained a little more with each flag, and Aldara sat forward in her chair, her hope growing with each flag returned to the barrel. But when he approached the last flag, the mare’s back legs slipped out from beneath her. There was a collective intake of breath from the spectators as they watched the mare go down onto her hind legs. Tyron was an experienced enough rider to prevent her from going over onto her side. In a few motions they were upright again and finishing the turn. The gallop to the finish was fast, but it was not enough to make up the time lost because of the stumble.

  Aldara felt her stomach twist as she watched the still timekeeper. His arm did not move. Pandarus had won. Only just, but it did not matter by how much. Loda was his, and her brother would return to the farm with only the silver pieces in his pocket. Apparently there was nothing Pandarus could not have. She watched him return to the timekeeper among deafening applause. He even moved closer to the berfrois so he could witness her misery. Aldara stood and applauded. She had no idea how she was doing it. Hali beamed and cheered while Aldara tried not to be sick.

  ‘Does your brother have any other representative riders who wa
nt a go?’ he shouted to Aldara. ‘Unless you have another challenger, I think I will take the mare back to the castle and see what she is made of.’

  Aldara stopped applauding. She stilled for a moment as her mind continued to run. She raised her arm to gain his attention, and when he looked at her, she shouted, ‘I will challenge you.’

  No one heard her except for Pandarus. The smirk fell from his face as he registered what she had said.

  ‘I challenge you for the mare, my lord,’ she repeated louder, so that the timekeeper could hear her.

  Hali grabbed her arm. ‘What are you doing?’ she whispered, pulling her back from the edge.

  The crowd quietened, trying to listen to the exchange. Aldara pulled her arm free and stepped forward again. ‘If you win, she is yours at no cost. If I win, she is mine to do with as I please. No money will be exchanged.’

  Pandarus laughed loudly. The spectators joined him. Aldara was too scared to look away from him for fear of what, or who, she might see. Perhaps Kadmus and Tyron were laughing along with them. The confused Companions looked between themselves as if they had missed something. Hali stood frozen next to her. The rest of the royal family watched on quietly.

  ‘You arrived in a wagon,’ Pandarus said loudly. ‘Do you plan on unhitching one of the horses? Or shall I organise a driver to trot you around the field?’ Laughter rolled across the crowd, which only encouraged him. ‘This is quite different from the chicken races you held on your farm. You will actually require a horse.’

  ‘I will ride the prize,’ Aldara responded calmly. ‘You wanted to see what she was made of.’ The crowd cheered with approval. ‘Then perhaps after I win, we can all stand around listening to more of your jokes, my lord.’

  His eyes narrowed on her ‘Saddle the mare,’ he shouted to a nearby groom.

  ‘No need,’ she responded. ‘Saddles are just extra weight.’ She said it loud enough for the crowd to hear. They cheered her insanity.

  As she turned around, Hali grabbed her arm again. ‘Have you lost your mind? You will get yourself killed. And even if you survive the race, Pandarus will strangle you in your sleep.’

  Aldara was already exiting the berfrois. ‘I will be fine,’ she said, the adrenaline and terror moving like waves through her.

  Hali followed her. ‘Bareback, in a dress? What are you even thinking?’

  Aldara kept walking. ‘That I can’t afford the extra weight of the saddle. I have enough disadvantages.’

  Tyron and Kadmus were waiting with Loda. Aldara kept her eyes on the mare. ‘You should see your face,’ she said to Kadmus. She was not brave enough to look at Tyron’s.

  Hali rushed up to Prince Tyron. ‘Please, my lord, tell her she cannot do it.’

  Tyron did not need prompting from anyone. He stepped in front of her. ‘It’s too dangerous, and you cannot win.’ He spoke as if that were the end of the conversation.

  She looked at him then. ‘My lord, unless you are forbidding me, in which case I will be forced to obey you, then I would like to try.’

  Kadmus spoke up. ‘My lord, she may not be able to win, but she will have no trouble finishing.’ All eyes went to him. ‘She rarely used a saddle on the farm. It will not be a disadvantage.’

  Tyron turned back to her. ‘Do you understand what you are doing?’

  ‘Yes. I have not stopped watching since my arrival here.’

  He shook his head. ‘I’m not talking about the tournament. I’m talking about the dangerous enemy you are making.’

  ‘The one you said would pose no threat?’ He continued to look at her. ‘It’s only an issue if I win, and you have declared it impossible.’

  He stepped aside so she could pass and then made a step with his hands to help her mount. She did not need the help, but she stepped onto his hands, anyway. As she mounted, her dress slid up, gathering about her thighs. Tyron tried not to stare at the milky, bare legs wrapped around the mare while Aldara took off all of her jewellery and anything that could distract, slow, or injure her during the race. She even took off her shoes, handing everything to Hali, who was looking at her as though she were riding to her death.

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ Tyron asked for the last time.

  ‘I have nothing else to lose at this point.’

  He shook his head. ‘I disagree, but here we are. Take a wider turn at the seventh flag. There is a lot of clay in the soil and the mare will slip if you take it too closely. And I don’t need to warn you about the final flag.’

  ‘No. Thank you.’

  He gave the mare a quick pat before turning around and walking off towards the berfrois.

  ‘Don’t die,’ Hali said, pretending to be furious. She fought back tears as she followed Tyron.

  Aldara glanced at Kadmus, who said nothing. Loda stepped sideways as excitement built in the crowd. Kadmus kept hold of her, walking them up to the timekeeper. He squeezed Aldara’s bare foot before leaving her. She was trembling as she mapped out her surroundings and tried to look only at the flags in front of her. She did not want to see the disapproving faces watching her from the berfrois or the laughing faces in the crowd.

  Tyron knew his brother saw through his neutral expression, so he made a point of seating himself as far away from him as possible. It was not far enough from Cora though. She took a last-minute seat right next to him without saying a word. The anxious tap of his foot drew her attention. He immediately stilled it, keeping his eyes ahead. The sound of the trumpet caused him to stand involuntarily, drawing the attention of his entire family.

  The sound of the horn scared both Aldara and Loda and delayed their take off. Aldara weaved one hand through Loda’s mane and loosened the reins so the mare had freedom of her head. She rode with her legs, the way her father had taught her. ‘Bridles are just accessories for good riders on well-trained horses,’ he had told her. They had broken her together using traditional methods, but they soon realised bridles were handy for stopping her.

  Once they were moving, Aldara worked at regaining the time lost from the delayed start. They moved around the first flag, collecting it in one sweeping motion. One thing Aldara had not counted on was the heavy weight of the flag itself. It threw her balance considerably and caused Loda to circle more than was necessary. She knew she did not have time for delays and made a point of shifting her body weight for the next flag. With each flag retrieved she became more efficient.

  The crowd grew excited as they noticed her improvement. At the halfway point she glanced at the timekeeper, whose arm remained down by his side. They would need to be faster. Loda’s speed was all she had. Cheers of support reached her across the field as she increased speed again. With three flags remaining, she tried not to look at the motionless timekeeper. The field was a soggy mess with muddy holes that swallowed Loda’s hooves. The faster they moved, the more mud was sprayed into the air, covering her face and body. She could not afford the distraction of wiping it from her eyes, so she blinked through it. At the final flag, she took a risk and leaned in further to tighten the turn. She had to trust that Loda’s sure-footedness would be enough to keep them upright. The mare’s body moved close to the ground while her legs stretched out, trying to push off an impossible surface. As she finished the turn, Aldara saw out of the corner of her eye the timekeeper’s arm fly up into the air. The roar of the crowd confirmed it. She pulled the flag from the ground as though it weighed nothing, and dug her heels into Loda’s sides. The mare’s stride lengthened beneath them as she returned to an upright position. The gallop to the finishing point was just a few moments of pounding heart and hooves.

  Aldara’s body was flush against the mare as she heaved the flag into the barrel. Her head turned to the timekeeper as she tried to slow the mare. It took her half the length of the field to stop her. Loda’s neck was foaming with sweat and her breaths came in heaves. Aldara’s eyes remained on the timekeeper, disbelieving. The crowd had erupted. She tore the mask from her face and wiped at the mud in her eyes with the
back of her hand. She saw then the timekeeper standing with his arm as straight as an arrow in the air. The fastest time recorded for the day. She looked over at the royal berfrois where Pandarus was sitting motionless with his arms crossed in front of him and his jaw set. That is what confirmed she had actually won. She slid her hands down Loda’s steaming neck and buried her face in the mare’s mane. Kadmus appeared next to her, a gleaming smile on his face.

  ‘You have ruined what appears to be a very expensive dress. You should see yourself right now. Why did no one else finish with a face full of mud?’

  Aldara lifted her eyes to him. ‘Because they did not win,’ she said, smiling. Her leg swung over Loda’s rump, but before her feet touched the ground, she felt hands on her waist, catching her weight and easing her to the ground. She knew it was Tyron without turning around.

  ‘Congratulations,’ he said. ‘You have a new enemy.’ When she turned to face him, his hands slid around her waist before dropping to his sides. He reached for the shoes and cloak Pero was holding next to him. ‘Hali wanted me to give you these.’ He handed the shoes to her one at a time, and when she had finished putting them on, he held the cloak open for her. She turned again, and he slid it over her shoulders. He took her hand, then faced her to the crowd. When he lifted her hand into the air, the roar was deafening. A royal Companion had just won the flag tournament against Syrasan’s princes and knights.

  When Aldara looked again at the royal berfrois, Pandarus was gone. The king and queen were clapping politely, but their faces were blank. Princess Cora sat still, watching with her hands folded in her lap. Aldara had shown up her brothers in front of Syrasan’s most important people. Tyron was right—there would be fallout from it. She had placed a target on herself.

  ‘Take Loda and leave,’ she said to Kadmus. ‘Before Prince Pandarus changes his mind.’

  She ran a dirty hand down the mare’s shoulder. Kadmus nodded, but when he tried to take the mare, Tyron placed a hand on her. He turned and spoke to Pero.

  ‘Organise an escort home for Kadmus. The mare will come to Archdale.’