The King's Daughters

by Nathalie Mallet

  "Because I am. I've watched you since you arrived at the castle, and you don't behave like the sort of man who tells. Plus, the king already knows about it. But you figured that out already."

  I nodded. "Why are you watching me? Am I that interesting?"

  "As a suitor for the king's daughter, you certainly are. Anything that may affect Sorvinka's future interests me. However, I must admit that my interest in you has waned."

  "Why?" I asked even though I had a strong feeling I wouldn't like the answer.

  "I greatly doubt the king will allow you to marry his daughter."

  I felt my stomach drop. "I suppose one of your sons would make a better suitor."

  "Absolutely!" The baron expelled a long breath. "Sadly, that's not likely to happen. Our king isn't known for his good decision-making skills." He waved a hand at the statue-filled room. "This proves it." He shook his head. "This was a terribly misguided decision."

  "I'm sure the king could be convinced to change his ruling."

  "I wouldn't presume to tell the king what to do, or try to influence his judgment one way or the other. It's not my place to advise him in politics. After all, I am but a humble soldier."

  Sure, the more mistakes the king makes, the better you look and the closer you get to the throne. I had to admit the baron's tactic was devilishly brilliant. It was also underhanded—I didn't care much for that aspect of it. I wondered how patient the man was. Did he covet the throne for himself or would he be satisfied by setting the stage for one of his sons. The baron's stony face gave me no hint of an answer either. Finding no other subject of conversation, I bid him good day and left.

  "Where are we going now?" Milo asked once we were in the corridor.

  "My rooms, where else."

  We were entering "Draft Alley," the corridor leading to my rooms, when a guard came running behind us with the news that someone outside the gate was asking for me. After a brief halt in my rooms to fetch our coats and hide the recipe book, Milo and I hurried to the gate.

  A young peasant boy wrapped in a thick sheep pelt, his head hidden under a black wool cap, awaited me. A look of extreme excitement illuminated his cold-reddened face.

  "Prince Amir, Dimitry sent me," the boy said, while dancing from foot to foot. "We caught it! The bear! We caught it in your trap."

  "When?" I asked.

  "Some time ago." The boy pointed in the direction of the village. "I came right away—on foot."

  On foot! That meant a fair amount of time had passed since the beast was caught. I stared at the snowy horizon. Perhaps if we hurried, there might still be a chance that we could see the animal alive.

  * * *

  We rode into the village at break-neck speed, me in the lead on my gray mare and Milo behind on a Sorvinkian bay horse with the peasant boy hooked to his back. I halted my horse in front of the temple's ruin and leapt down. The place was deserted. I had expected to see people around the area where we had dug the trap. I could see that the ground had been churned by a small army of feet, but there was no one near. I was walking toward the trap when Dimitry came out of his house. A group of men followed behind him.

  "I got your news, Dimitry," I shouted. "Where's the beast?"

  Dimity's expression turned as sour as a rotten turnip. "The cursed animal got out of the trap."

  I furrowed my brow. "How?"

  "It climbed out. The thing was twice the size of a normal bear. The trap wasn't deep enough to keep it in. Come see for yourself."

  I followed Dimitry to the edge of the trap. There was no need asking questions anyway. Claw marks told the story of the bear's escape. They were so clear that I could easily follow the animal's progress from the bottom of the trap right to its top. I then tracked the bear's steps to the altar. The snow all around the altar was flattened and speckled with red dots. Fresh blood by the look of it. Obliviously a battle had been waged here.

  "Dimitry, whose blood is this—the bear's?"

  The corners of Dimitry's lips dipped downward; he shook his head. "Ours. We tried to stop the beast, but the thing was too strong and too big. We couldn't hold it."

  Crouching beside the trap, I peered down at its black bottom. How could this creature climb out of this deep hole so easily? How tall was that monster? I felt the sudden impulse to climb down the trap and touch its bottom. I didn't know why I needed to do that, only that I had to do it. "Can I get a rope?" I asked.

  Dimitry snapped his fingers and within moments a rope was let down the side of the trap.

  Losing no time, I grabbed the rope and began my descent to the bottom of the trap. I reached the end of the rope quickly enough and my feet made contact with the ground again. It was cold and dark within the trap, far more than I imagined it would be.

  Dimitry's head appeared over the trap's edge. "Do you smell it?"

  "Smell what?"

  "The bear odor."

  I took a deep breath. I caught the scent of dirt, snow, and blood, nothing else. I raised my face to Dimitry. "There is none."

  "I know." Dimitry's face took on an air of worry. "A horse always smells like horses. A sheep like sheep. But a bear with no smell . . . I don't care for that."

  "We believe it may be a trained bear. Could that affect its odor?"

  "Maybe. I know nothing about trained bears. The wild ones are the only kind I know."

  Nodding, I brought my attention to the dirt walls surrounding me. Why did I have the urge to come here? I asked myself. The urge to step where the beast had stepped.

  Seeking one paw print after another, I began stepping into them. Slowly, I traveled along the trap in a circle and back to my starting point. Then the bear had climbed out on the left side. I inspected the dirt wall closely.

  "Oh," I blew, placing my hand in a long scratch mark in the frozen dirt. His first attempt had failed. "He fell down."

  I looked at the ground where the bear had tumbled, and frowned. I thought I saw something shiny in the dirt. Kneeling down on that spot, I began sifting through the soil. Soon my fingers met with something hard. I brought the small pebble up to my eyes and stared at it in disbelief. Resting in the palm of my hand wasn't a pebble, but one of Thalia's blue diamond earrings. The ones I had given her as a gift. Why is this here? Has the beast eaten Thalia, and for some reason the earring stayed caught in its jaw . . . until the bear fell down, jarring it loose? This was a dreadful thought. A more optimistic one came to my mind soon after. Maybe Thalia attached her earring to the bear, to its collar perhaps, in hope it would lead someone back to her.

  I closed my fist around the earring. No matter how much I wanted to believe this, I just couldn't fathom how someone could attach an earring to a bear—trained or not—without being mauled to death. That was a stupid idea. What then? What is the earring doing here? Unable to come up with a plausible explanation for the earring's presence in this hole, I climbed out of the trap feeling more confused than when I'd gotten in.

  Chapter Seventeen

  After discovering the earring in the bear trap, Milo and I returned to the castle. This time we successfully made it to my rooms without disturbance. I spent most of that night and part of the following morning studying Isabo's recipe book. By noon it had become obvious to me that this book was nothing more than a volume of remedies. Although I was disappointed not to have found any spell in it to prove her guilt, I had to admit that Isabo was a very gifted healer and an expert potion-maker. I wondered where she had learned her craft. Moreover, I now questioned her implication in these crimes. Was she really guilty? Doubts riddled me to the point of driving me mad.

  What if the queen's death was due to the fact that Isabo wasn't there to provide her with a tonic, and not the other way around? But if Isabo isn't guilty, who is then? And what about the princesses' kidnappings? Isabo was seen leading the bear, so she has to be guilty. Then why heal the queen? That doesn't make sense. So many questions, so many strange events, this entire affair seemed unsolvable. I didn't know what to think anymor
e.

  I stared at the window. The bright midday light made its colored glass sparkle like jewels. Today was the queen's funeral, which meant that Isabo's time was numbered. I had two days at best to find out if she was guilty or innocent. But first, I had the solemn duty to attend the queen's funeral.

  * * *

  Even though dozens of people surrounded me, I felt alone and depressed. Funerals had that effect on me. Also, I believed that my state of mind was made worse by the fact that Eva was so close and yet so far from me.

  Draped in a dark fur cap, Eva clutched her father's arm as they both solemnly walked behind the black troika carrying the queen's casket. I wished I could have held Eva's hand, supported her in this painful time. Sadly this wasn't permitted. I'll have to wait, I thought, watching the royal family—now reduced to only two people, Lars still being bedridden—enter the stone crypt to bid the queen a last farewell. According to Sorvinkian tradition, only they were allowed in. So I and the rest of the mourners just stood by, waiting for them to exit this small, stone building. Although most Sorvinkians were buried, I was told that noble families often opted for crypts as their last resting places because in winter the frozen ground hindered one's burial. This was why Sorvinkian cemeteries were made up of a combination of tombstones and crypts. This cemetery, situated on the north side of the castle and near the forest, was no exception. I cast an eye down. The nearby headstone was too close to me for my taste and I quickly walked away from it. I strongly disliked this place. There was something in the air here, a presence, an unnatural one at that, not truly dead like a ghost, yet not really alive either. Whatever it was, its essence made me jittery.

  In desperate need of distraction, I studied the other mourners assembled in the cemetery. I spotted Diego standing a few paces ahead of me. He looked so different in those dark brown clothes. Gone were the lace and bright colors he usually favored. I almost missed his exuberant flamboyance. Beside him was Countess Ivana dressed in a simple marine gown with a long gray cape thrown over her shoulders. She was as beautiful as ever. Her only artifices were the four raindrop pins she wore in memory of her mother. I smiled. Ivana was remarkable. Few women of her rank and beauty would wear such trinkets.

  Motion coming from the crypt caught my attention. Shadows were stirring near the entrance. Then the king and Eva stepped into the daylight. His eyes puffy and reddened, the king walked in front. He bore the tortured expression of one who just had his heart wrenched out. As for Eva, her face remained hidden under a veil of black lace; therefore I couldn't see her tears. But I had no trouble hearing her quiet sobbing though. It was then that I became aware of a strange, new sound mixed with the loud crying of the mourners.

  Tilting my head to the side, I listened attentively and tried to isolate this new sound from the ambient noises. Ah, there it was again. The sound was like a sort of grumbling . . . or more exactly growling. And . . . and it came from the edge of the nearby forest. I scrutinized the area. At first, I saw nothing but trees, bushes, and boulders. Then the big brown boulder on the left moved. I gasped. That wasn't a boulder. It was a bear, a huge brown bear, running straight toward us.

  My head spun in the direction of the small group of people the bear seemed to be aiming for. The king and Eva were at its center. Ivana and Diego were there also.

  "Run! Hide!" I shouted. "Move, get out of the way!"

  Instead of sending people running, my warning produced the opposite effect. They all froze in place and stared at me with bemused looks on their faces.

  I opened my coat and pulled out my sword, which brought appalled exclamations from the crowd of mourners. Weapons had been prohibited from this ceremony. But I had felt compelled to bring mine anyway—being unarmed always unnerved me.

  The king was furious. Fists closed and lips thinned, he glared at me through narrowed eyes. "Prince Amir, you have now committed an offense that I cannot overlook. For this—"

  "AAAHH! A BEAR!" rose from the back of the assembly. Screams and yells followed as people began running in all directions in panic.

  Struck in the chest by the fleeing mob, I fell to the ground, and I would've been trampled to death if not for the headstone that protected me. Huddled against the worn, pitted granite block, I waited for the horde of runners to thin. When it did, and I finally was able to rise up, I saw that the bear was already in the cemetery. Worse yet, this raging mass of shaggy brown fur was rapidly approaching the royal group, which had been pushed to the back of the cemetery by the fleeing mob.

  Petrified, the king just stood there with wide-opened eyes, staring at the irate animal. Then patting his side, he began a frantic search of himself—for a weapon, I presumed. Without further delay, I ran toward them.

  Meanwhile the bear was rapidly closing the gap separating it from the group. I stared at the king standing in front of the women like a target. Brave but useless, I thought and ran faster.

  As the bear reached the group, Countess Ivana, seized by panic or imbued with heroism, dashed past the king and ran madly through the cemetery's central alley.

  Attracted by this fleeing prey, the bear changed course and chased after her. I immediately pursued them. With a glance behind me, I saw the king embracing Eva and, to my consternation, Diego running away.

  "Coward," I hissed, and returned to my pursuit. There was no time to waste. The beast was almost on Ivana. I tried running faster but the deep, wet snow slowed me down.

  I looked ahead and saw that Ivana had reached a crypt. She tried entering it, but the door was locked. When she turned around the bear was right in front of her. The giant beast rose up on its hind legs. Growling ferociously, it then leaned forward.

  "Aiii!" Ivana screamed.

  The bear was about to tear poor Ivana to pieces, when a tall silhouette with long flowing black locks burst out from behind the crypt and pushed Ivana out of harm's way.

  "Diego!" I shouted. The dark-haired prince had not run away as I had believed, but had taken the side alley where the snow wasn't as deep. Because of this clever move he'd reached Ivana first. As I stared at my friend bravely facing the enraged beast, a terrible reality dawned on me. Diego was unarmed, hence defenseless against the bear's attack.

  Brandishing my sword, I ran as fast as my legs could manage in this snow. But I knew it wouldn't be fast enough. There was no way I could get to the bear in time to save Diego. The beast was already lunging toward him.

  To my astonishment, the bear didn't maul Diego. Lowering itself down on all fours, the bear stuck its long muzzle in Diego's hair and ran its big black nose along his cheek and neck. Diego cringed as the animal sniffed him thoroughly. The bear then backed away, as if confused by something. Well, Diego's perfume was, to say the least, distracting. For an animal, with a sense of smell as acute as a bear's, it was probably off-putting, if not downright repulsive.

  During that time, Ivana had managed to crawl amidst a cluster of tombs. She gripped one of the weather-beaten headstones to pull herself to her feet. A piece of it broke off and fell down with a clunking noise.

  The bear's head swung toward the noise. The beast's muzzle wrinkled, exposing long, murderous teeth. By then I had reached my friends and was able to step in front of Ivana.

  With it small round ears pinned back, the bear stood up on its hind legs again. Almost twice my height, the beast towered over me while growling loudly.

  I thrust my sword forward, aiming for the bear's exposed belly, but fell short of hitting the target. To strike the beast, I needed to move closer to it. In fact, I literally needed to walk into its clutches. For the first time in my life, I wished I had another kind of weapon in my hand instead of my trusty rapier. A pike would have been perfect. I shook myself—wishing was useless; I would have to make due with the rapier. Perhaps I could attack low, as I usually did when fighting taller opponents.

  Without further thinking, I rolled left of the bear, rose up, and aimed a blow at his hind leg. My sword bit deep into the bear's flesh, leaving a blood
y gash across its thick brown fur. The bear roared in pain, pivoted, and swiped my sword right out of my hand with its giant paw.

  The impact knocked me flat on the ground, and before I could rise again, the bear was on me.

  I was raising my arms in front of me, in a pitiful attempt to protect my face from the incoming fangs, when an arrow pierced the bear's chest. The animal jerked backward. A second arrow sunk deep in its shoulder while a third one plunged into its neck. The beast let out a gasp of agony, then dropped dead beside me.

  Still in shock, I remained sprawled beside the animal. From the corner of my eye, I saw Khuan and Lilloh, the barbarian warriors, approach with caution. They both had their bowstrings drawn ready to send more arrows into the bear . . . in case it wasn't dead.

  Meanwhile Diego had made his way to Ivana, who was curled up against the broken headstone, crying hysterically. Placing an arm around the countess's waist, Diego helped her stand. Turning to me he called, "Amir, are you hurt?"

  I sat up. "No. I'm fine, just . . . just shaken."

  Diego breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. I'm glad." On this, he gently led Ivana out of the cemetery.

  The sound of a whispered discussion in a foreign tongue brought my attention back to my saviors. Khuan and Lilloh had made their way to the bear. I watched Lilloh give her bow to Khuan and kneel beside the animal. She closed her eyes, and her lips began moving, mouthing silent words, as if she were praying. Once she was done, she bowed her head. Opening her eyes, Lilloh then touched the bear's fur. A startled yelp escaped her mouth and she rapidly recoiled from the beast. I watched an expression of disbelief twist her small exotic features. Swallowing hard, she touched the animal again. This time her hands went to the bear's broad forehead. A barely inaudible whimper filtered through Lilloh's lips. It was so faint I believed that if I had been a step further away, it would have escaped my knowledge. But the horrified look now drawn on her face couldn't be missed though.

  "What's wrong?" I asked.