Page 33 of Pippa of Lauramore
“What is the castle like?” I ask, wondering what my future holds.
“It’s not as fine as your palace,” he says. “We have no golden accents or large windows, but it is beautiful in its own right. It’s stone with the usual buttresses and towers.”
“It sounds lovely,” I say, and I mean it. I’m sure I will be very happy there.
He’s quiet, and it looks like he’s lost in thought. “If I win?—”
“When you win,” I interrupt.
He grins and shakes his head. “IfI win, you will stay aprincess. Will you miss the chance of being a queen? I am second born.”
“I don’t care about any of that. There’s a lot of pressure placed on queens-to-be. So much is expected of Leonora.”
I meet his eyes, and it looks like he’s struggling for words. Finally, he says, “We’re simple people, as you’ve probably heard.”
It’s unusual for great warriors, artists, or scholars to come from Glendon. They are a farming kingdom and mostly self-sufficient. They are known for their kindness and not for their grandeur. Glendon hosts no great tournaments, festivals, or feasts. Or at least they haven’t in years.
I toss my hair over my shoulder. “You’re afraid I will be bored there.”
He sighs and then nods. “You are bright, beautiful…vibrant. I feel like I will be trapping an exotic bird in a plain cage. As much as I want to keep her, is it really fair to the bird?”
“You are kind. I would rather be a bird in a plain cage with a kind keeper than a bird in a large and beautiful garden with a cold master.”
He’s about to answer but is interrupted by a guttural grunt in front of us. We both whip forward. The grim boar’s near a mud hole. Instead of fighting, it runs when it sees us.
I kick my horse, and we race after the pig, Archer in the lead and Galinor at the back. I dart past trees and jump over rocks; we crash through streams and thick brush.
It’s exhilarating, this mad dash. I had no idea. No wonder my brothers look forward to hunts like they do.
Finally, the grim boar stops and makes to charge us.
Archer’s on the ground a second before Galinor, but my prince is right behind him. My hand shakes while I fumble for my arrows. I take aim, but I’m not sure I can make the shot without hitting one of the men.
Archer has a hunting spear, and he’s faring better than Galinor with his sword. Every time Galinor attacks, the boar makes to gore him with his tusks, and the prince must pull back.
Willowisp dances under me, spooked by the squealing beast. It’s as big as the one that attacked Rigel, if not a little larger. The mare lets out a frightened neigh, startling the boar. It darts around Galinor and charges at me.
“Around the tree! Bring him back this way!” Archer yells.
I kick Willowisp and yank her around the large pine. The great tree shudders as the boar smacks it with his tusks, only narrowly missing us. We race forward. Archer has already drawn his bow and takes aim. The boar chases us, grunting and squealing like a demon creature.
The arrow flies, and the sounds of the chase cease. Archer runs past us, spear at the ready. I turn just as he plunges the spear into the pig’s chest. Galinor is behind him, and he too sticks the boar with his sword, though it’s clear to see Archer already killed it.
Galinor stares at the dead beast, looking a little shocked, but Archer ignores the boar and runs right for me. He holds out his arms, and I fall off my horse and into him. I struggle to catch my breath as he holds metightly, running his hand down my hair, assuring himself I’m still in one piece. “Are you all right?”
I nod and put a hand on my chest. My heart races, and despite my deep breaths, it won’t slow down. Once I finally catch my breath, I laugh.
“I thought I was going to die!” I say, and I can’t hide my glee.
Archer takes a deep breath and allows himself a small chuckle. “I think I just about died when it charged you. Do you know what your father would do to me?”
We’re laughing together, and then I feel Galinor’s eyes on us. Slowly, feeling oddly guilty, I step from Archer’s arms.
“You’ve killed your first grim boar,” I say, trying to be as easy with the prince as I just was with Archer.
He shakes his head. “Archer killed it.”
I glance at the boar, and I know he’s right. Archer’s arrow went straight through the creature’s eye and into its brain. It was most likely dying before he stabbed it with the spear. It was certainly dead by the time Galinor reached it.
