Page 44 of Feathered Thief

Papa shook his head. “You? A young woman alone?”

“Yes. According to the king’s counselors, that one golden feather is a priceless treasure. King Gustik wants the whole bird now. The two princes haven’t returned, and today the counselors decided I’m the most likely person to succeed.”

“What nonsense!” Papa said. “What greed!”

“They’re providing everything I should need for this quest. You won’t believe this, but the king’s council offered me a squad of soldiers.”

“No!” Papa Hrabik sounded shocked.

“I turned them down.”

“I should think so! A young woman, traveling alone with all those men?” The lines on his forehead deepened.

“I’m tall and skinny; I can pass as a boy, I think.” She spoke quickly. “The king’s people gave me a map, money for food and lodging, and men’s travel clothing. I’m good with a bow, and I’m not too bad with a small sword since you trained me to defend myself. I promise I’ll seek magical help if I need it.”

“In these troubled times, few are willing to help a stranger.” Papa shook his head. “A pretty girl like you needs a bodyguard.”

“Pretty?” she echoed, her face growing warm. Papa had never mentioned her appearance before.

“Some can see through any disguise,” he said. “You’d best use your wits.”

She nodded. “My apple tree seemed pleased about my upcoming journey.”

Papa’s pale eyes studied her for a long minute, then he nodded. “Mama always knew this time would come, and she would never forgive me—I would never forgive myself!—if I didn’t go with you. I’ll be your manservant.”

Lenka’s eyes burned, and she swallowed hard. “You would leave the garden and this cottage and everything . . . for me?”

“Everything. It’s you I love, my girl, not a bunch of plants.”

So, it was settled, whether she agreed or not. And her heart felt so much lighter!

When she visited her tree one more time to explain about her quest, the tree exuded joy, not sadness.Find bird. Find you.

Maybe that really was her quest: to find herself.

A flash of her archery dream heated her cheeks. She was a fool to even think it, but just maybe she would findhimtoo.

Lenka and Papa Hrabik set out on foot early the next morning, carrying their packs, weapons, and a shared sense of adventure. How frightened she would have been to set off on her own! But with Papa walking alongside her like a faithful shepherd dog, she could let her spirit soar.

They passed farms and traveled through forests. When necessary, they stopped in villages, mostly to refill their waterskins at the village pumps. Unlike Lenka, Papa had a sense of direction, but he still asked questions to make sure of their path. When their provisions ran low, they purchased a pasty or a loaf. People were friendly enough and didn’t seem to see through Lenka’s disguise as a young nobleman. They had stopped at village inns the first two nights, but the human population thinned as their path climbed. Lenka was pretty sure she wouldn’t have survived in the mountains without Papa to build fires, snare game, discourage possible bandits with his brawn and intimidating glare, and otherwise live off the land.

Lenka wasn’t entirely useless: she shot several rabbits, a few squirrels, and a brace of partridges along the way. When rain plagued them, Papa somehow always found dry kindling to roast their wild game. They also picked a great many hedgerow blackberries, raspberries, and bilberries, and occasionally plums and cherries from abandoned orchards.

On the tenth day, after a long slog up a narrow road to the next village, they entered an inn and traded some field-dressed game for pasties and a fresh loaf of bread with butter—a welcome change to their diet.

With her height, her naturally low-pitched voice, the quality clothing, and her bow and quiver, Lenka passed as Lech Nowak, a young man of good family and modest means. Papa was “his” manservant. But sometimes she forgot to behave like a man of the world instead of a nervous girl. “Lech” received a few irritated looks, but mostly “he and his servant” avoided notice.

The days seemed to drag, and Lenka felt as if she might never be clean again. But one morning they entered yet another small village, and Papa asked a man, “How far are we from the border with Wroclaw?”

“I’d say not far enough,” he retorted.

“I have business there,” Lenka explained, trying to sound confident and male. “But I’m not altogether sure of the way.”

The man scowled. “At one time, the next village up the track marked the border.” He shook his head. “But few who go there come back. A curse has swallowed up the land. Year after year, foolish striplings like you trek into Wroclaw in hope of finding enchanted treasure and a princess to marry. Utter nonsense at best, and right deadly at worst.”

Lenka couldn’t disguise her surprise. Not even a month had passed since Prince Dominik set out. “How many years have people been treasure hunting?” She kept her voice low.

“I can’t say, exactly.” His brows rose in expectation.

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