dragon archives 04 - dance with a dragon

by Linda K Hopkins

  “Who’s it from?” Kathleen asked eagerly.

  “I don’t know,” Anna said, turning the note over and studying the back. “It doesn’t say.” She nodded at Betsy, who quickly exited the room.

  “It must be from the prince,” Kathleen said.

  “The prince? It doesn’t seem like the kind of thing he would do. And why would he send me a gift?”

  “Well, who else? I saw him talking to you when we were in the city. In fact, he barely left your side. And wasn’t he with you when you were admiring the birds at the market?”

  “He only walked with me because the queen was giving her attention to Master Brant. And Master Brant saw me admiring the birds, too.”

  “Yes, but why would he give you a gift? Everyone knows he’s pursuing Mistress Jane.”

  Anna turned in surprise. “He is?”

  “Of course. Why, Blanche was telling me just the other day how Jane has resisted all his advances thus far, but he still keeps dangling after her. She also says …” Kathleen’s voice trailed away, and she dropped her gaze to the hands in her lap.

  “Yes?” Anna said. “What else does Blanche say?”

  “Nothing,” Kathleen said. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Kathleen?”

  Kathleen looked up. “Blanche says it won’t be long before you are in the prince’s bed, if you are not already,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “Pray, forgive me, Anna. I know it’s not true. At least … I think … it’s not true, is it?”

  “Of course not! I have no interest in the prince whatsoever.”

  “Oh. It’s just …”

  “Just what?”

  “He does seem to give you more attention than other ladies.”

  “Only because he finds it amusing when I speak my mind!”

  Kathleen dropped her gaze, and Anna reached for her hand. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I don’t mean to sound so cross.”

  Kathleen nodded and the subject was dropped, but Anna could not get Kathleen’s words out of her mind. Later that day, she pulled Blanche aside.

  “What rumors have you been spreading about me?” she said.

  “What do you mean?” Blanche’s eyes widened in surprise as she gazed at Anna.

  “About me and the prince.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  “Did you not tell Kathleen that I would soon be sleeping with him?”

  “Certainly not!” Blanche took Anna’s hands in her own. “We may have our differences, but I would never say such things. Kathleen must have misheard.”

  Anna pulled her hands free. “How could she have misheard?”

  “I told her that the prince seemed to like you. Maybe she leapt to conclusions.”

  Anna stared at Blanche. “Very well,” she finally said. “But do not talk about me with others.”

  Blanche nodded. “I won’t. I swear.” As Anna turned away, Blanche caught her by the arm. “I did hear that the prince sent you a pair of canaries.”

  “The note wasn’t signed, so I cannot say who sent it.”

  “Well, who else could it be?” Blanche said, echoing Kathleen’s words. “He was with you when you were admiring the birds at the market.”

  “I suppose so,” Anna said. “It just doesn’t seem like something he would do.”

  “Well I have no doubts at all,” Blanche said. “I am quite convinced that our handsome prince sent it to you, and is intent on pursuing you.”

  As Anna fell asleep that night, she wondered about it again. Her mind refused to accept Rupert as the giver – it was just too out of character – but who else? Not Max, certainly. The queen? But why would she favor Anna with such a gift? It did not make sense. She was still puzzling over it when she drifted off to sleep, with the sound of rain tapping against the shutters.

  She awoke early, startled by the call of an owl as it flew past the window. No-one else had been disturbed, however, and the only other sound was the gentle lull of soft snores and heavy breathing. She lay back on the mattress, but the fright had chased away her sleep. It was still dark outside, but Anna could see the faint stain of light on the horizon through the window. The warm cocoon of blankets kept her curled up for a little longer, until finally she pushed them aside, and pulling on a pair of boots, quietly crept from the room. The rain had turned to snow during the night, and the landscape was blanketed in white. The air was cold, and Anna pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders as she stepped outside. There was a large fire burning in the center of the courtyard, with a few people huddled around for warmth. They glanced at her as she walked past, but she did not pause. Skirting the gardens, she took the path that led to the wilderness. On the horizon the light was no more than a smudge behind the gray, looming clouds, but it was enough for her to pick her way through the dead blades of grass, which were damp from snow and rain. They brushed against her cloak as she walked, leaving trails and muddying her hem, but she took no notice. She breathed in the bracing air, and watched as her breath formed little clouds of mist that hung in the air for a moment before dispersing.

  High above she could hear the discordant cries of geese as they flew overhead, chased away by the cold weather that had arrived overnight. She watched as they passed in their ‘V’ formation, one side longer than the other. From the end of the shorter arm, a goose pulled out of the line, and flying heavily, pushed ahead of the rest until it reached the front of the formation, taking the place of the leader. The replaced goose fell back, slowing down as the other birds pulled ahead, then headed towards the back of the line. It never made it, however. As Anna watched, the goose suddenly quivered and started falling towards the earth, slowly at first, then gathering speed as it dropped lower. It had been brought down by an arrow – she could see the shaft sticking through its neck – and picking up her skirts, she started to run in the direction of the falling bird. She could not have explained what impulse propelled her forward – perhaps it was seeing a winged creature being felled from the sky, or maybe it was just that the early morning peace seemed shattered by the act of violence. She was not unused to seeing animals die – it was a part of life, after all. But something had touched her, and she started to run.

  She heard a dog barking, and then the sound of voices. In the low light she could make out the forms of three men, and recognized Rupert amongst the group. She was panting as she reached them, and Rupert turned to look at her in surprise. In one hand he held a bow, and in the other, the lifeless form of the goose Anna had seen falling, the arrow still pierced through its neck. The ground at Rupert’s feet was stained red with blood, while a dog sniffed and whined, jumping from time to time at the dead bird which dangled above its nose.

  “Anna,” Rupert said dryly. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “Why did you shoot that goose?” she said. Rupert’s expression narrowed.

  “Do you think I have to explain my actions to you?” he said.

  “Well …” She glanced at the two men standing behind him. She recognized them from the time he had been hunting with the falcon. One of the men was clutching a brown hessian sack, and he stared at her in disbelief, while the other man smiled slyly. Rupert dropped the bird on the ground and stalked towards her.

  “I do not need to explain myself to anyone, least of all you,” he said.

  Anna stared back at him for a long moment, then glanced at the other men. She took a step backwards. “Of course, Your Highness,” she said.

  “Now go,” he said. He turned his back to her and picked up the goose as she slowly walked backwards away from the men. She did not go far, but stopped next to a tree to watch. With a quick motion, Rupert pulled the arrow out of the dead bird, then dropped it in the sack that the man held open. A quiver of arrows was slung over Rupert’s back, and reaching over his shoulder, he pulled another one out, glancing up at the sky as he did so. The geese were gone, of course, but something else had caught his eye. F
ollowing the direction of his gaze, Anna looked up and saw a creature circling in the sky high overhead, a mere blot against the clouds.

  “What’s that?” Rupert asked.

  One of the men shrugged. “It is too far to tell, Your Highness,” he said. “Perhaps a crane.”

  “Let’s find out,” Rupert said. He lifted his bow to his shoulder, and notched the arrow. Looking up again, Anna saw that the creature was circling lower and lower. The light was still too dim to make out what it was, but as she watched, she saw a glint of light reflecting from its back.

  “No,” she whispered. “Get away from here.” Had the creature heard her? It continued to circle around. “No,” she said, “he’s going to shoot.” Rupert pulled the bow taut against his shoulder, and she drew in a breath as he released it, sending it straight towards the creature. “No!” she screamed. She saw Rupert turn towards her with a start, but a moment later he was turning back to the creature in the sky. Anna could no longer see the arrow, but surely it must have hit its mark by now. “Max,” she whispered. She saw Rupert pointing at the creature, which circled around one more time, then turned in the direction of the river and disappeared from view. Anna watched the place where he had disappeared, willing him to come back, hoping he would stay away. Her heart was racing in her chest, and her mouth felt as dry as sand. Inside her boots her feet were numb, but she barely noticed.

  She stayed there for a long time, staring at the sky, but Max did not reappear. What had he been thinking, flying above the prince while he hunted? Surely he had seen the danger! When it became clear that his target had escaped, Rupert and his men moved away without another glance in her direction, heading towards the forest, but she gave them no heed. Had Max been injured? She had no way of knowing, but the thought of him dying, or dead, made her stomach twist into knots. The sun had risen behind the clouds, a dull, milky light, by the time Anna finally made her way back to the palace, dragging her feet slowly through the snow. Her boots were coated in a thick layer of mud, and she could no longer feel her fingers.

  She was nearly at the courtyard when a young boy ran up to her. A thick mop of dirty blond hair fell over his forehead, and his cheeks were red from the cold. In his hand he held a long package, which he shoved towards her.

  “I was told to give you this, Mistress,” he said. She looked down at the package in his small hands, and slowly took it from him. It was long, narrow, and very light. The boy spun on his heel and started running back across the courtyard.

  “Wait,” she called after him. “Who gave it to you?”

  “A man,” he replied, shouting over his shoulder. “He gave me a ha’penny to give it to you.”

  Anna looked at the package again. Wrapped in thick oilcloth and bound with twine, there was nothing to indicate what it was or who it was from. Walking over to a low wall that ran along the edge of the courtyard, Anna sat down and examined the package a little closer. The twine had been knotted, but although the knot was not tight, Anna’s fingers were cold, and she fumbled for a few moments in frustration until she used her teeth to loosen the binding. She eased the string off the package, and pulling it open, stared down at the arrow that lay within. Its shaft was slightly bent, and one of the striped feathers had been broken. It had an iron arrowhead, about three inches long, but when Anna ran her finger over it, she saw that the tip of the metal had been bent, folded over like a piece of paper. She lifted the arrow and turned it over in her hand; it was then that she saw the small piece of paper rolled tightly around the shaft. Pulling it loose, she placed the arrow on the wall and opened the note. ‘A mere arrow is useless against a beast,’ it read. It took another two readings before the meaning sunk into her frozen mind, and then she smiled. Of course, she should have known that!

  She remained sitting on the wall until the cold seeped through her clothes. Tucking the note into her bodice with fingers that were turning blue, she wrapped the arrow in the cloth once more, and carefully hid it in the folds of her gown. She had just risen to her feet when she heard a voice calling her name, and turned to see Frank heading her way.

  “I have been sent to look for you,” he said. “The other ladies are concerned you were abducted during the night. I told them I doubted that, since you are too wily to allow someone to make off with you, but they insisted I search the grounds for your dead and lifeless body.”

  “Well, here I am, quite safe and sound,” she said. She turned towards the palace entrance and he fell in step next to her.

  “I know the way. No need to accompany me.”

  “Oh, I know you know the way,” he said. “I’m just wondering what you are up to. Perhaps you are a spy.”

  “A spy?” Anna laughed. “What a ludicrous idea. I went for a walk.”

  Frank grunted. “Ladies do not go for walks when it is this cold,” he said.

  “Don’t you know,” Anna replied, sweeping past him, “I am not a lady!”

  Chapter 24

  The colder temperatures remained, along with a mixture of rain, sleet, and snow, which made the surrounding countryside bleak and drear. The damp found its way into every corner of the palace, settling into the quilts, worming through garments, and shrouding the rugs placed on the cold, stone floors. Fires were lit in every room, their blazing heat creating a small circle of warmth that drew people around in a huddle.

  But the cold did not dampen the spirits of those who lived and worked within the walls of the palace, for Christmastide was fast approaching, bringing with it plans for feasting and music, dances and plays. The courtyard was a hive of activity as entertainers came and went – mummers and musicians, actors, jugglers, and jesters. Children ran through the corridors, their squealing laughter and noisy games adding to the cacophony. The royal children joined in the games, until they were dragged away by a disapproving nurse, back to their lessons. At every meal the great hall was packed with people seeking shelter from the cold and warm food in their bellies, conversation and laughter rising above them all and drifting to the rafters. The king and queen presided over the meals from their table on the dais, and laughed as uproariously as the common folk on the floor. Different entertainments were offered every evening after dinner – a yarn from a traveling storyteller; a conjuror who made items appear out of the air; a haunting tale sung in verse. And when no entertainment had been planned, the tables were pushed away for an impromptu dance.

  There was only one thing that disturbed Anna’s peace in these happy and busy days. Max was a frequent visitor at the palace, and a favorite amongst the woman at court. Despite Kathleen’s assertion that he was pursuing Mistress Jane, there was nothing in his manner to suggest that he held her in any special regard. In fact, it seemed that all that was needed to engage his attention was a swish of a skirt. He smiled at every woman who passed his way, and offered his hand for every dance. When his eye caught Anna’s, he would smile in a friendly manner, and nod his head, but then turn to the next woman with a smile equally as warm. Of course, Anna knew that she had lost any chance of engaging Max’s heart – the fact that he had stayed away for so long confirmed that – but she had hoped he would give her a little more regard than the other women at court. They were related by marriage, were they not? But he did not speak to her beyond a few words of greeting, and did not seek out her company. In fact, apart from those few polite words, he ignored her completely. And so she ignored him too – as much as she was able. She maintained her distance when the tables were pushed aside for a dance, and took her place on benches far away from where he sat. And when she was near him, she steeled her heart against the man whose memory lay deep in the recesses of her soul.

  It had been another gray day, but tonight there was to be a special treat. A monk had arrived at court that morning, and he had in his possession a copy of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. The story of the strange knight who challenged one of King Arthur’s men to deliver a felling blow to his neck was not unfamiliar amongst well-learned people, but few had heard the orig
inal tale. And tonight, after supper, Friar James would read his precious manuscript in the great hall. The monk had been given a place of honor at the raised table, and ale had flowed freely into his cup all evening. Beside him sat Rupert, who listened resignedly as the man attempted to engage him in animated conversation, crumbs flying from his mouth as he punctuated his sentences with a fat fist clutched around a shank of lamb, the other clutching a hunk of bread.

  Anna watched in delighted amusement as Rupert leaned a few inches away from the spray of food and ale, a look of distaste souring his expression. His eyes roved the hall, then stopped when they reached her. She looked away, turning to hear what Kathleen was saying, but something drew her eyes back to the prince. He was watching her thoughtfully, his eyes narrowed, and when his gaze caught hers, he stared at her for a long moment before turning away. Anna glanced down at her hands. There had been something disconcerting in his look, as though he were a hunter, and she, the prey.

  The remains of the dinner were cleared away, and there was a scraping of chairs and benches as people settled down to enjoy their evening’s entertainment. A high stool had been placed at one end of the dais, where Friar James would sit and tell his tale, while the king and queen remained at the table. The two younger children were in the nursery, but Prince John had been given permission to join the adults in the hall and listen to the story. He sat beside his father, glowing with excitement as the monk prepared to tell his tale. Anna sat near the dais, and when Rupert rose to his feet she glanced up, her eye drawn to the movement. He stepped from the platform and bent over Blanche, whispering something in her ear. Her eyes flew to Anna for the briefest moment as he spoke, and she nodded. Anna watched curiously. There was something strange about Blanche’s expression. She wondered what it could mean, then pushed the matter from her mind as the monk began his tale.