Page 39 of The Royal Curse

I shook my head, startled, and Fluffy shied as I tugged the reins a bit too hard.

“Yes,” I managed, and cleared my throat. “What?”

Andreas had turned his horse to face me, and the rest of our party had clumped together in a circle around us. “There’s a village half a mile down that track, according to this,” he said, and waved a hand at the signpost. “We’ll stop there for the night. Find the bridge in the morning. If it pleases you, Your Highness.”

Oh, thank the gods. “Yes,” I said, hoping I sounded decisive rather than pleading. “It’s too dark to go on.”And I’m too eager to bend over for you and beg. “Lead the way.”

Andreas nodded, turned his horse, and set off down the small side road that led away through the trees. I nudged Fluffy into a trot, biting my lip as my ass bounced up and down.

The way the branches encroached on the path made me wonder if we’d find anything at all besides more trees on this route, but sure enough, another turn brought us onto a village green, with a smithy to the right and the stable yard of an inn on our left. A boy ran out and called to us, taking Andreas’s reins and then mine, and a moment later we were all stamping our boots and shaking out our cloaks and coats, the men muttering appreciatively about the smell of stew and ale and oak branches on the two fires in the dining room.

A red-faced fellow with a bald head and an apron bustled up to us—clearly the landlord by his prosperous stomach, and clearly pleased to see a large party of well-heeled travelers by his wide smile.

“Drinks, supper, and rooms for the night?” he asked hopefully, bobbing something between a bow and a nod. “I’m afraid I won’t have enough rooms for all of you to have your own, but they’re comfortable to share! And there’s enough beef in the stew, my word on it!”

“We’ll manage,” Andreas said. “Your best room for my lord here, and we’ll split up the rest. And we’ll get cleaned up before supper, if you’d show us to our rooms first.”

The landlord started chatting away about the quality of his stew, but I hardly heard a word of it over the frantic pounding of my heart. I couldn’t ask Andreas to share a room with me. I could only hope he chose to do so on his own, or that the way they divided meant that he had to.

“We do have only four rooms open,” the landlord said as we turned down the corridor at the top of the stairs. “But large enough for three of your men to be comfortable—”

“That won’t be necessary,” Andreas cut in. “We’ll do two to a room. I’ll guard his lordship overnight.” Oh, thank the gods, and thank Andreas for being overly paranoid about my safety. My eyes fluttered shut in relief for a moment as I sent up a quick and silent prayer of gratitude to Ennolu, Dromos, or whoever else might be listening. They were assholes, but occasionally they came through. “We’ll want breakfast before dawn, if you please,” Andreas continued. “We’ll ride as soon as it’s light. Going north, if you have anything you can tell us about the road.”

“Making for the pass, then?” the landlord said. The pass? And then I realized he must mean the route across the mountains about another twenty miles north of the bridge.

He stopped at an open door, inside which I glimpsed a maid setting candles and another lighting the fire. Had they used magic to get here before us? Or perhaps they’d simply used another staircase from the kitchen when the innkeeper called out to them. Clearly, I needed sleep. Or coffee. Or…I didn’t know what.

“Your room will be ready in one moment, your lordship,” the landlord went on. “The road ought to be well enough, if muddy. Regarding the pass, it’s likely to be a bit snowed in right now. You’ll be waiting at the foot of it for a few days, I expect. Might want to stay here. Our cook’s better than at the Three Pines where you’d be stuck if you go that way, if I do say so. And there are some bandits about. Though your party’s well armed enough.”

“No,” Andreas said, “we’re going across the river. The ford at Perona’s not passable, and won’t be for weeks, they say. So we’re detouring to the north.”

The landlord stepped back to let the maids slip out of the room and down the corridor, and waved a genial hand. “After you, my lord and sir. And I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but you won’t be crossing the river at the bridge, either. The water’s three feet over the top of it. Has been since yesterday week.”

Andreas stopped and spun on his heel so abruptly that I’d have crashed into him if I hadn’t frozen in my tracks.

“What?” he demanded. “The bridge that’s seven miles away, by the sign at the crossroads? I had first-hand information that it was in good repair only yesterday.”

The landlord frowned and shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you about that, sir. I saw it for myself two days ago when I went to see my mother, whose cottage is only a hop and a skip up the hill from it, and the bridge watchman said as it’d been like that for days already. The bridge is good stone. Stood for a hundred years. It won’t wash out, but you can’t cross it until it’s dry, neither.”

My chest tightened painfully.

No ford. No bridge. No way over the river. For a moment I wondered wildly if I could wean myself off the potion again and use magic to get us across somehow.

But no, I’d spent too many years suppressing it, and I had to simply accept that I might never be capable of the magic other mages managed without difficulty. My attempt to light three candles at the same time hadn’t been particularly encouraging. I’d get us all killed.

Andreas’s troubled gaze flicked to me and lingered for a moment, dark and grim, before he looked back at the landlord. “You’re certain. You swear to me that you saw the bridge yourself?”

“On my soul and risking Ennolu’s wrath, sir! Couldn’t even see the tops of the railings for how high the river’s gone. I doubt you’ll be able to go that way for near as long as the ford’s going to be flooded.”

“Damn it,” Andreas muttered, and nodded tightly. “I’ll speak to you again this evening. Your—my lord? Come in and get warm and dry, will you?”

“Only while we talk about what’s to be done,” I said, and Andreas nodded again, turning to enter the bedroom.

The landlord retreated down the corridor, bowing and apologizing with all his might, promising to make my men comfortable. I wished I had the wherewithal to reassure him that we weren’t the sorts to take out our annoyance at the inconvenience on the hapless messenger, but it was all I could do not to burst into tears like a fool. My guards were waiting to go to their own rooms, all clustered on the stairs behind me and muttering about what we’d just heard, and I couldn’t possibly let them see how distressed this news had made me.

It took more effort than it had to ride all day simply to move my feet enough to walk over the threshold and into the room. And then Andreas shut the door behind me, and we were alone at last.

Chapter Fifteen

---