The Decoy Princess (23 page)

Last night had been miserable. Duncan hadn’t been at our abandoned camp. Alone and depressed, I had kept the horses plodding forward most of the night. There was no moon because of the clouds, making traveling difficult. I wasn’t willing to risk a fire when I stopped, and between the cold, the dirt, the misery of my dead parents, and waiting for Jeck to catch me up or the wolves to take me down, I hadn’t slept. Morning found me moving before the sun had risen. I was wretchedly tired, but I wouldn’t rest until a ship was carrying me across the bay.

I took a slow breath, letting my anxiety go as I brought the musty smell of hay and horses deep into me. I liked stables. I had often hidden in the palace livery to avoid my studies, until Kavenlow realized what I was doing and switched my lessons to horsemanship, pushing me so far into exhaustion that I would willingly sit with paper and ink the following day. Looking back, I realized he had been very good at such persuasion, invariably getting his way without calling upon my parents to force my obedience.

A memory swirled up unbidden, of Kavenlow squinting from the sun and smiling proudly the first time I made my pony jump a fence. I had been seven, and so full of myself one would think I’d jumped the cracks of hell. The stableman cleared his throat, and I brought myself back.

“Maybe you could help me,” I asked. “I’m trying to catch up with my father. Tall, gray-bearded man on horse? He’d be dressed well. It would have only been a day or so ago.”

“Haven’t seen him,” the man muttered, rubbing a filthy rag over my saddle.

“Thank you,” I said, edging away. “I may be back to buy food for my horses.”

“I’ll give it to you cheaper than the inns in town,” he said, his voice eager.

Nodding, I stepped from the still warmth of the stables into the late afternoon. Jeck’s horse pricked his ears, his eyes begging me to scratch the underside of his massive jaw. The silly beast stretched out his neck like an enormous cat, a low moan escaping him as my fingernails raked through his stiff hair. My hand pulled away with dust and sweat under my nails. I looked at them, sighing. I wanted nothing more than a good meal and a bath. But I didn’t think being on foot would slow Jeck appreciably, and I felt as if any moment a dart would find me.

Taking the two horses’ leads, I walked into town. The dock street was a dirt track, widening where thick wooden pilings jutted out into the bay and a scattering of ships rested. Barnacle encrusted fishing boats were pulled out onto the rocky beach. Most were empty and abandoned, having processed their haul already, but one latecomer was busy. A vicious flock of seagulls and crows circled and dived as the man threw out the offal of his catch. The harsh noise of the birds and the dog chasing them were loud. By the looks of it, the tide was almost in.

Jeck’s horse called out, startling me. Another answered him. My gaze went to the hard-packed yard of an inn, the Seasick Pony by the placard showing a wide-eyed, pathetic beast with green spittle coming from it. My heart gave a pound when I saw Pitch tethered outside.

“Pitch!” I cried, not caring that I was attracting stares as I jogged to her. The black gelding behind me was nearly as enthusiastic, neck arched and tail raised. “Oh, don’t you look fine,” I murmured as I tied Tuck and Jeck’s horse beside her.

A small stableboy with a broom taller than he was watched me suspiciously, and I took my hands off her. A flush of guilt for selling the saddle went through me when I saw that my gear was on Pitch, right beside Duncan’s. But if Pitch was outside, then Duncan was inside.

Leaving the three horses to their reunion, I eagerly stepped over the dice game on the front steps of the inn and entered. The room was stuffy and dim, noisy with too many men struggling to fit months of entertainment into days. My gaze roved over the throng, my eagerness dulling as the stares of the women grew hostile. Nervous, I checked my bedraggled topknot.

“Gone!” I heard a familiar voice moan, and I spun to the bar. “Vanished like a meat pie from a windowsill in spring.”

A smile pulled up the corners of my mouth as I found Duncan sprawled miserably across the counter, monopolizing the innkeeper. Not wanting to attract more attention by calling out to him, I edged through the tables with an intentness that would hopefully tell the watching eyes I had my own business to attend to.

“She was going to make me rich,” Duncan said as I gave a grasping sailor a nasty look and sidled out of his reach. “And now she’s gone. I looked for her. God knows I did, but I couldn’t find a trace.

Vanished like a punta in a whirl of wind.”

“Ah,” the innkeeper said. “Don’t chase the women that run from you, lad. You’ll find better. Have another ale?” It was clearly a well-practiced litany by his bored countenance.

“No.” Duncan pulled his tankard close. “You don’t understand. I could look a lifetime and never find another like her. I didn’t even care her cooking was like the scrapings from under the stewpot and her tea was like rabbit piss.”

I grimaced, startled to find the innkeeper looking me over with a derisive interest. “Did she have curly brown hair to her waist with sticks and leaves in it?” he asked.

“Aye.” Duncan sighed, sounding angry. “Full of leaves and wickedly sharp darts. Damn it all to hell, it was perfect. Now I’m back to nothing.”

My hand went up to check my hair. I hadn’t brushed it in hours. I must look as if I had been pulled through a knothole backward.

“And was her dress too short?”

Duncan’s head bobbed. “God help me, but she had a red underskirt. I saw it when she was on horseback. And she rode like a man.” Hunched over the bar, he stared up at the innkeeper. “Like a man, I say!”

I frowned and tugged at my dress. How else could I ride if I didn’t have a proper saddle?

“And does she have a temper about her?” the innkeeper asked, looking from me long enough to spit on the floor.

“Slap your face as soon as give you the time of day,” he said morosely. “You sound as if you’ve seen her.”

The man shifted his eyes from me to Duncan. “She’s burning well standing behind you.”

Duncan spun so quickly, he nearly knocked his stool down. “Tess!” he cried, shock on his face as he rose. “You’re alive!” A score of unvoiced thoughts cascaded over him, too fast for me to recognize.

Then he settled on one, and beaming, came forward with his hands outstretched.

Alarmed, I held out my hands to keep him away. Duncan pushed them aside and gave me a hug that forced the air from my lungs. His stubble had turned into the beginnings of a nasty-looking brown and red beard, and it scraped my bruised forehead. “Stop!” I protested, unable to keep the grin from me. He had missed me. I didn’t think anyone, except Heather, had missed me before.

“You’re all right!” he said, smiling as he put me at arm’s length. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Embarrassed, I glanced over the room as the noise resumed. The innkeeper had made his escape to a table, but I couldn’t help notice he kept an eye on us.

“What happened?” Duncan asked, trying to lead me to his stool. “Who was that? How long were you standing there?” He frowned, reaching out to my head. “Hey. You’re hurt.”

“Don’t.” Flustered, I pulled away, and his frown deepened. “It’s just a bump.”

He took my shoulders and peered down at my scalp. His eyes hardened. “He hit you?”

I looked up, surprised at his anger. “Yes,” I said, “and tied me up and sat on me. But I got away—with your horse and his—so I guess we’re even.”

Hope lit Duncan’s eyes. “Tuck! Is he outside?” He strode out the door, and I stood for three heartbeats, unbelieving.
The man was as skittish as his horse
, I thought, decidedly put out. I followed him into the street, trying to scrape my dignity from the floor as I went.

Squinting in the brighter light, I found Duncan running his quick hands eagerly over Tuck. “Hey, boy,”

he said, his eyes alight with pleasure. “Look at you. Not a scratch. Stupid beast. It was only a tree.” He slapped Tuck’s neck fondly, and I sourly wondered if Duncan’s attempt to find me had been out of concern for me or his horse.

“Tess,” he said earnestly. “Thank you. I raised him up from a foal when he was born out of season and abandoned. I can’t imagine where I’d get another like him.”

“You’re welcome,” I said, forgiving him for leaving me standing alone in a tavern.

“What happened?” he said as I started to move his gear off Pitch and onto Tuck. “Who was that who grabbed you?” He leaned close until I could smell the smoke from the inn on him. “You stole his horse?”

he asked, clearly exasperated. “Tess, you’ve got to stop doing that.”

My anxiety flowed back. “I’ve got to go,” I said as I tied my pack onto the black gelding.

“Good idea.” He started to take his things off Pitch and put them on Tuck with an unhurried quickness. “Now for the third time, who was that? You think he’ll follow you?”

I started to help him, hesitating as I tried to decide what I should do with Jeck’s things. Now that I had mine back, it didn’t feel right to keep them. “Oh, he’s following me all right,” I said, feeling a pinch of urgency. “He’s a—” A new caution stopped me from saying player. “He’s the captain of King Edmund’s guard,” I whispered, not sure how much was lie and how much was truth. “It was luck that got me away, and he’s as angry as a stingray on a deck. I have to find a boat to take me across the bay. I’ve got to find Kavenlow.”

“Us.” Duncan pushed Tuck’s bony head out of the way to see me. “You have to find a boat to take
us
across the bay.”

His stance was determined as he squinted in the sun at me. Though as tall as Jeck, he lacked the captain’s bulk, replacing it with a lanky quickness. His hand was still swollen from the dart that had nearly killed him, and it made him look vulnerable in my eyes. “Duncan,” I protested softly, “this isn’t one of your schemes. He’s not going to stop until he finds me. I know I promised I’d give you anything for helping me get past the gates, but a week of my time is going to get you killed.”

“You got away,” he said just shy of belligerent. “How bad can he be?”

A sigh escaped me. I looked down the street, worried. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Beat me with a dead carp, Tess. I believed you when you first told me! That’s why I say you should keep running. He’ll stop if you go far enough. I should know.” He grimaced, looking angry at some past injustice.

My attention followed his to the light foot traffic. My pulse increased. Jeck was out there. He was getting close. I could feel it. “I can take care of myself,” I said.

“I know you can. That’s one of the things I like about you.”

Shock struck through me, jerking my eyes to his. We were caught between two horses, closer than proper decorum allowed, hidden from casual eyes. I swallowed, unable to find the will to pull from his grip as he took my hands and exerted a soft, subtle pull.
He liked me
?

“Work with me,” he said softly, making my heart pound. “Say you will. I’m looking farther ahead than you, and Tess, I know you feel like you owe them something, but there’s nothing left for you in the capital. Nothing. Come with me… and I promise I can have you living like a princess again in three years.”

I tried to swallow, finding my throat too dry to manage it. “Duncan…”

His long face turned pained. “I thought I lost you, Tess. Just…”

My breath caught.
He thought he lost me
? Suddenly frightened, I tugged from his grip.

Duncan stiffened as my hands slipped from his. “I’m sorry,” he said, ducking his head. “I didn’t mean how that sounded. It’s just that…”

I forced myself to smile up at him, my hours spent in diplomatic conversation coming to the forefront.

“It’s just that you want to make lots of money,” I said, the stupider part of me hoping that he had meant it exactly how it sounded.
I was an idiot; but at least I knew it
.

His breath escaped him in a relieved, half laugh. “Yeah,” he said. “You got me there.”

Relieved that we had sidestepped whatever he had almost said, I ran my gaze from his grease-stained hat to his squalid, worn boots. What was in between was unkempt and coarse. But his words still resonated in my mind. He cared about me, Jeck frightened me, and I needed a friend. I didn’t care if his motives were a little skewed.
Or were they
?

“I have to find Kavenlow,” I said softly. “He can pay you back for what I took from you in the inn.

And if he doesn’t, he can get it for you.” I felt embarrassed as I looked up, knowing Duncan heard the unspoken
please stay with me
in my words.

“Kavenlow, huh,” Duncan said. Lips pressing together for an instant, he licked his thumb and stuck it out. My thumb was in motion before I knew it. Jerking to a halt, I watched his eyes as I finished the motion to lick it and press it to his thumb, sealing our bargain. I wondered if he put the same weight as I did on the silly bond. “Fine.” He was scanning the street again, shifting back to put space between us.

The rims of his ears were red. “I’ll stay with you until I get paid.”

“If you’d rather, you can take one of the black horses,” guilt prompted me to say.

He shook his head with a nervous smile. “I’d sooner sleep in a chu pit than take one of those horses.

They’re stolen, remember?” Then he paused, frowning as he looked them over. “Where’s the saddle?”

Seventeen

I flushed and dropped my eyes. “I sold it,” I admitted. “For ship fare.”

His long, stubbly face suddenly empty of emotion, he moved to shield me from anyone passing by.

“How much did you get?” he asked as his shadow fell over me.

Wondering why he wasn’t angry for me having sold a saddle he had considered his, no matter how loosely, I handed him the impromptu bag. He unfolded it in his cupped hand, his head bowed over it:

“Chu,” he breathed in admiration. “You all got this? For that saddle?”

My smile turned relieved. “I know how to bargain.”

“Huh,” he grunted, and my eyebrows rose as he handed it back to me. “Nicely done.”

I looked askance at him. “I thought you’d be angry.”