Minstrel's Serenade. Aubrie Dionne

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СКАЧАТЬ ruffled the boy’s hair, threading out the needles with his awkward sausage-thick fingers, better for wielding a weapon than a gentle caress. Then he swiped his own neck. “Where does a boy your age learn such language?” If he’d spoken that curse in his house, his father would have stuffed soap in his mouth.

      Nip shrugged. “Pill.”

      Bron raised an eyebrow in question.

      “My older brother.”

      “Of course.” No other name would complement Nip’s so well. Bron wondered where potty-mouthed Pill was now then remembered the blackened village they’d left behind. He thought of Hule and thanked Helena his brother lived safely in Oaten’s Dell, looking after their aging parents. Fate had been kind to Bron, and he should be more thankful instead of dwelling on unattainable quests.

      Nip tugged on Bron’s pinky finger. “Are you thinking about the princess?”

      Bron blinked and straightened as if Nip had splashed cold water up his nose. “Why do you ask?”

      “Because you have the same expression on your face Pa had when Ma was angry with him and he couldn’t do anything about it.”

      Nip’s comment amused him. Bron’s lips curved into a smile. “Do you think the princess is angry with me?”

      Nip shrugged and picked at a splinter in his sword. “Like Pa used to say.” His little voice grew grumbly, as if mimicking an older man’s. “If she wasn’t mad sometimes, she wouldn’t care.”

      “Care about what?” The conversation had shifted into strange territory and an uneasy feeling crawled across Bron’s shoulders.

      Nip flicked the splinter into the trees. “’Bout you.”

      Chapter 7

      Horn of the Undead

      Day gave way to shadowy twilight, and the forest grew dark with lurking threats.

      Danika’s horse heaved underneath her. Although the minstrels had lent her a fine stead, the stallion slowed with fatigue. Valorian’s horse slackened as well, struggling to keep pace in the patches of filtering moonlight. Even Nip’s horse dragged its hooves and he had hardly ridden the beast all day.

      Surely, whoever followed them couldn’t have tracked them this far. Even so, staying to fight would give their horses much needed rest. Either way they’d have to confront their pursuers. Running made Danika feel like a fugitive. She pulled back on the reins as they broke through into a clearing where the white moon illuminated the glade. “Enough.”

      Valorian followed her lead. He jumped from his horse and offered the stallion water from his sheepskin.

      Danika sniffed and pulled up by his side. “The air smells clear.”

      He held the sheepskin to her horse’s steaming muzzle. “You forget we are upwind.”

      Valorian slid his hand into a secret pocket in his vest and brought out a dagger with an ivory hilt carved with the same spirals that decorated his lute. He handed her the silvery blade. “Be careful.”

      She had her long sword, but she wasn’t about to refuse another weapon. “Thank you.” Danika slipped the blade into her boot. Why would a minstrel carry such a weapon? She thought music was all they needed for protection.

      Bron caught up and the carriage rumbled to a halt. He leapt from his seat as if he’d awaited this moment all day.

      Danika rushed to him, drawn to his strength. “Are they gone?”

      A flock of starlings took flight from the forest behind them. All eyes turned toward the darkness between the trees. Bron shrugged. “Better to be safe than slayed. We’ll set up a perimeter defense using the carriage and the bags of rice.”

      Valorian lit torches as Bron stacked the bags against the carriage on either side. Danika grabbed Nip’s sword as he swung the blade at the low-hanging branch of a tree. “Get in the carriage and stay there until morning.”

      “I want to fight.” Nip pouted with his lower lip jutting out. He looked so adorable, she had a hard time saying no.

      “We need to keep you safe so you can lead us to Darkenbite. Remember, you’re our guide.”

      “I cannot leave Thunderhooves unguarded.” Nip struggled to cross his arms and hold his sword.

      Danika furrowed her brow. “Who?”

      “The boy’s horse.” Bron unsheathed his claymore and swung the blade in an arc over his head, stretching his muscles.

      “I named him myself.” Nip stared at her as if she would deny him the ridiculous name. She almost did. He hadn’t spent more than half the day on the saddle before he lost interest and wanted to fiddle with his sword. Now he’d give his life for the beast? More likely he used the horse as an excuse.

      Danika smoothed the wild hair on the boy’s head. “Thunderhooves will be fine with the other horses. This is no place for a little boy, no matter how courageous.”

      Nip bit his lip. “I’m strong enough.”

      “Yes, you most definitely are.” Valorian handed Nip a pendant with an emerald framed in gold. The stone caught the firelight of the torches, sparkling. “Here. You stay in the carriage and keep this safe from robbers.”

      Nip’s eyes widened. “What is it?”

      Valorian smiled. “On the back is the royal crest of the House of Song, a lyrebird. The insignia proves I’m their prince and the rightful heir.”

      “Whoa!” Nip held the amulet close to his heart. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep it safe.” He ran to the carriage and shut the door.

      “You have a kind way with children.” Danika gave a gentle smile.

      Valorian brought out his lute and grinned. “If only my charms worked on Bron.”

      Primal hoots from the forest stifled Danika’s laugh before the sound left her throat. Bron aimed the tip of his sword into the shadows. “Let them come.”

      Beside her, Valorian breathed deeply. He strummed an open chord on his lute, opened his mouth and sang. His honeyed tenor voice echoed through the woods, challenging the darkness with light.

      “Who so thrives to hunt this night

      Rest your wearied souls.

      For a sweet languor

      In the eve’s stillness

      Lingers to console.”

      She drew out her long sword, a miniature replica of her father’s blade with the silver pommel formed in a lion’s head and three rubies lodged in the hilt. Her blade wasn’t as thick as the late king’s, but the lighter bulk allowed her swift movement for quick, superficial cuts. As Bron had taught her, she needed all her weight behind her to lodge the tip through a man’s heart.

      Hulky СКАЧАТЬ