The Lady and the Prince
Chapter 20

Nick and Elizabeth spent three nights with Duke Maximillian Aggradon before heading north. Nick had known Duke Maximillian as long as he could remember, and Winkershime agreed that the likelihood of the duke himself leaking information to Franck was remote indeed. So the valet did the spying among the servants, but came up with nothing. They spent their time socializing with the duke and his family and then moved on.

The Progress went north into Denland, and everyone immediately noticed a change for the worse. Duke Maximillian maintained his roads, but apparently Duke Quenton of Denland did not, at least not this road. The coaches had to slow down to avoid damage, and everyone inside was tossed about as the wheels hit ruts and potholes. Nick and Elizabeth got out and rode for the day, but Winkershime, Sylvie, Hal, and herald Norbert had no choice except to roll and jounce down the road.

The people were different too. No one cheered or waved at the Progress; they merely stood and stared at the unusual sight. In the first town, the herald went ahead and announced them, but the people’s reaction was the same until the wagons passed and small change was tossed to the crowd. It wasn’t the children who scrambled for the coins but the adults, and sometimes they fought viciously for a single penny. Nick and Elizabeth were horrified, and Nick resolved he would replace out what was wrong in this dukedom.

The houses and farms they passed were poorly maintained and some were even slovenly. Something was seriously amiss in Denland. The first night they stopped at an expensive inn and Sylvie immediately discovered both fleas in the beds and rats in the walls. Nick and Elizabeth quickly abandoned the building and had camp moved a short distance away and tents set up for those who usually stayed indoors.

Even though the tents were large and rugs put down over the dirt floor, they weren’t all that comfortable compared to what they were used to. The nights were quite chilly now as fall approached, and they only had cots and small fold-up tables and chairs. Iron tripods held braziers with hot coals for a limited amount of warmth. But everyone considered the accommodations a step up from the inn.

The second night they stayed at the home of Baroness Carlotta, the childless widow of a minor nobleman. Her house was large and clean at least, although the furnishings were worn and the servants few. They were met at the door by an overwhelmed butler, who explained the baroness was old and ill and couldn’t leave her bed.

They paid a courtesy call on her in her bedroom, and Elizabeth realized Carlotta’s illness was quite serious but not catching. It was just the failing health of old age. Everyone was polite, but the visit was very short as the baroness fell asleep after a few minutes. Dinner was passable, although it was just Nick and Elizabeth at the table. There was no point in straining the household’s limited resources trying to feed the Progress; everyone else ate the provisions they carried.

“What will happen when she dies?” Elizabeth asked.

“The title reverts to the Crown, the land and house will be administered by Duke Quenton until such time we choose to ennoble someone and grant them the barony.”

“It’s sad to die alone and childless.”

“It is, although Winkershime told me she actually had three children, but only one made it to adulthood. He never married but sickened and died years ago. But whatever her state is now, remember she is a baroness. She did marry and have children, and she had wealth, power, and responsibility, far more than most women. So there were good times for her too.”

“I suppose. I just hope that when I’m old I have children and grandchildren, brothers, nieces and nephews, and my husband around me.”

“I’ll do my best to see to it that you get your wish, but you have to promise me that you’ll be there when I get old too, with our strong sons and beautiful daughters and a wild pack of grandchildren.”

“I promise, except for the wild pack. I hope our grandchildren are better behaved than that.”

“Okay, but only most of the time. Once in a while, they get to be a wild pack.”

Elizabeth laughed. “All right, once a month they can howl at the moon if they wish as long as they’re healthy and happy.”

“Done. Moon-howling, it is.”

The following day the Progress reached Duke Quenton’s castle. It was perched high on a cliff overlooking the ocean with a long slope to a valley with a small natural harbor and a thriving port town. The roads in the area were well-maintained, and the people in the town responded more normally to the Progress. They waved at the parade, and it was mostly the children and a few beggars scrambling for the largesse.

Duke Quenton met them in the entryway. He was an average-looking young man of average height and weight. Elizabeth thought he looked more like a shopkeeper than a duke, and Nick realized the fellow could pass unnoticed anywhere. Too bad he wasn’t one of Nick’s spies.

He received them correctly but coolly. Nick and Elizabeth returned cordial greetings, but as soon as he politely could, Duke Quenton turned them over to his seneschal who showed them their rooms and went to get the rest of the party settled.

Elizabeth wasn’t at all pleased with the arrangements. She and Nick had been given rooms in different wings of the castle, nowhere near each other. She walked all the way to Nick’s room while Sylvie unpacked.

“Nick, do you have any idea why our rooms are so far apart?” she asked as soon as Winkershime had admitted her.

“I don’t know. Maybe it just suits Duke Quenton’s sense of propriety. We’re not married yet, so housing us far apart is just his way of ensuring decorum is maintained. However”—Nick walked over and kissed her lightly—“I think he doesn’t understand how easy it is to walk from room to room anyway.”

Elizabeth chuckled but asked Winkershime, who was also unpacking, “Aren’t you supposed to be chaperoning us?”

“Me, my lady? My goodness, no. I am the prince’s valet. It’s my duty to assist him in his endeavors, whatever their ends. Your Highness, the seneschal gave me the agenda for the next three days. Would you like to peruse it?”

Nick took it, read it, and passed it to Elizabeth. She read it and asked no one in particular, “Am I invited to these things too?”

“It appears not all of them,” Nick said. “Tonight I meet with the duke, town leaders, and the local gentry to discuss customs duties and import/export fees. I guess even up here they’ve heard I’m Head of Commerce. Sounds deadly dull anyway. Tomorrow I’m supposed to go hunting with the duke and his knights for deer and boar, hardly an activity for a lady. I suppose you can join us for dinner to eat the kill. The following day is a jousting tournament, everyone will be invited to watch that. I’m to present the awards, and then there’s a celebration to toast and fete the participants and winners, which sounds like a drinking party. If it is, you’d better not go. Drunken knights aren’t very polite.”

“It sounds to me like Duke Quenton needs to get married, have children, and settle down,” Elizabeth said a little peevishly.

“He was engaged two years ago before his father died, but when he became the Duke of Denland he broke it off and just started doing what he wanted, which apparently doesn’t include taking much care of his dukedom,” Nick responded with a frown.

Windershime said, “Perhaps Your Highness could give him a suggestion or two?”

Nick made a sour face. “He’s six or seven years older than I am, and he’s been a duke longer than I’ve been an adult. I doubt he will listen to me. I can give him commands, but at present I don’t have any way to enforce them. Considering the situation with Franck, I’d rather not alienate him.”

“It is a puzzle, isn’t it Your Highness?” Winkershime commented blandly.

Elizabeth looked back and forth between the two. Was Nick’s valet telling him what to do? There was a definite subtext to their words, but the prince didn’t seem to resent it at all.

Nick sighed. “I’ll see what I can do. Maybe I can slip in some stories about growing up and taking on responsibilities. I do have some experience at that.”

Elizabeth could see Winkershime suppressing a smile. “Yes, Your Highness, you certainly do have some limited experience. By the way, have you gotten through the latest set of dispatches?”

“No, but if Elizabeth goes away until dinner, I can probably get to the last twenty pages before we eat.”

“Oh great, not only am I going to have nothing to do and no one to do it with, but now you’re tossing me out too.” She gave him a quick kiss and said, “Come get me for dinner,” on her way out.

Nick did fetch Elizabeth for dinner, escorting her to a large well-appointed dining hall. There were just the three of them at a huge table—the duke at the head, Nick on his right, and Elizabeth across from him on the duke’s left. The meal was decent but hasty. Duke Quenton ate quickly, talking exclusively to Nick and ignoring Elizabeth. The young prince tried to include her by changing the topic from trade to almost anything else, but the duke went right back to telling Nick about how duties, fees, and tariffs were affecting Denland, the town of Denland below, and the Duke of Denland in particular. It made for an unpleasant meal in spite of the good food.

Immediately afterward there was a servant waiting with the duke’s fur-trimmed cloak, and Winkershime appeared with an apologetic look on his face to provide Nick’s plain gray one. Nick was hustled into the duke’s coach, and they road down to a brightly lit large building in the town below.

There were two dozen men waiting for them in a room full of tables and chairs. The duke strode to the head table with Nick, and they seated themselves. Duke Quenton opened the meeting.

“As I have promised, I have brought Prince Nicholas here to hear your grievances. As you know, he is the very youngest son of the king and also the Head of Commerce. I’m sure he is eager to learn about how commerce functions in the real world from those with experience and wisdom on the subject. I will start with the question of why I cannot set the import/export duties for Denland since I am here and know much more about trade here than anyone in Londinum.”

Nick kept his temper and answered the duke’s question, which was actually more of an argument. It was followed by a similar question from the town mayor, and he and the duke spent most of the evening taking turns badgering Nick with a few inputs from others in the room.

The prince soon realized he had made a mistake coming here with Duke Quenton. He had trusted the duke to set up a civil, respectful meeting; that had been mistake number one. Mistake number two was coming in the duke’s carriage. Nick couldn’t leave until the duke left, unless he wanted to walk back to the castle. Well, perhaps he could replace a way to leave.

Nick put up with it for about an hour and a half and then blew up. “That’s enough! Anglia’s laws are for everyone, and everyone must obey them, including the laws of commerce. Duke Quenton, I am leaving now and taking your carriage. You may come with me if you wish.” Or walk back yourself, you impudent son of a…

Duke Quenton said with false surprise, “Why of course, Your Highness, if you wish to leave so soon. We didn’t realize you would be so easily upset by a few questions, but perhaps you are tired after riding in your coach this morning. Gentlemen, I’m very sorry, but the prince wishes to leave now, so the remainder of your questions must go unanswered.”

Nick fumed silently through the carriage ride back and stalked off as soon as the carriage rolled to a stop at the castle. He stormed into his room and tossed his cloak at Winkershime, who made a one-handed grab to catch it. The young prince kicked off his shoes and sat stiffly in a large stuffed armchair and brooded.

Winkershime didn’t know what to make of Nick’s behavior, other than he was in a very bad mood. The valet hung up the cloak, picked up the shoes, and silently placed a pair of slippers near Nick’s feet. He left the prince alone for a while.

Winkershime peeked in occasionally. When he saw Nick had shifted his position sideways in the chair with his legs over one arm and his head resting on the other, the valet went back into the room.

“I take it the meeting didn’t go well, Your Highness?”

“You take it right. It wasn’t a meeting, it was a trap. They just wanted to badger me into agreeing with what they wanted, which was to throw out all the national laws and just let Duke Quenton do as he pleases.”

“That does sound unpleasant. I take it you don’t feel up to doing any spying tonight?”

“I know Denland is one of our targets, but I don’t think I can concentrate very well right now. Could we do it tomorrow?”

“Of course, Your Highness. And the third night after a drinking party, everyone will be sleeping very soundly, so if you don’t indulge too much…”

“That would be an ideal time for digging around. All right, tomorrow I’ll do his office. The following night I should be able to go into the duke’s bedroom or pretty much anywhere I want.”

“Very good, Your Highness. Tomorrow morning is the hunting party. I will lay out appropriate clothing tonight. Um, you are aware that boar hunting is done with spears and can be quite dangerous?”

“So I’ve been told, but I’ve never hunted boar. I’ll push for deer on the pretext I prefer venison, but we’ll have to go after whatever we replace.”

“Boar spears are often made out of iron or steel.”

“Are they?”

“Yes, but sometimes very solid wood with metal tip and crosspiece. The crosspiece is to keep an impaled boar from pushing its way up the spear and savaging the hunter on the other end. Nasty beasts, Your Highness.”

“I see. Thank you, Winkershime. Anything else?”

“Horses not trained for boar often want very much to leave the area when they scent one.”

“Smart animals.”

“In their own way, Your Highness. Good night.”

“Good night, Ralph.” Winkershime pretended he didn’t hear the overfamiliarity.

Nick was up and dressed early the next morning. Upon entering the dining room, he found the room filled with men in hunting clothes helping themselves to a buffet of sausages, eggs, ham, smoked fish, bread, rolls, butter, and three kinds of jam with hot tea and cider. He filled a plate and sat next to the duke who was shoveling in food like he hadn’t just eaten the night before.

“Eat up,” the duke said. “We’ll probably be gone all day, so fill up now and take plenty of water along.” There were general grunts of assent from some of the other fifteen or twenty men in the room, who were also busily eating. Nick went to work on the food; this was one activity he was good at.

After everyone had finished, gathered their gear, and mounted up, the duke led them along the cliff away from the town and then turned inland to a heavily forested area. Nick had his bow, but he saw that many of the men carried short heavy spears with crosspieces too. He was relieved to see most had wooden rather than metal shafts, so if he had to borrow one, he just needed to be careful who he asked.

They rode slowly and quietly through the woods—as quietly as that many men and horses could be. They came to the edge of a blowdown and saw the antlers of a buck sticking up out of the long grass, moving as the recumbent animal turned his head. The horsemen surged forward, and suddenly a dozen deer that had bedded in the soft grass erupted and ran in every direction, leaping over the dead tree trunks.

The hunters scattered after the deer. Nick took off after a medium-sized buck—not as impressive as one with a big rack, but younger and better eating. The duke followed him, but Falcon leapt across the dead trees nearly as easily as the deer, and Nick was in the lead as they followed the animal back into the forest.

The deer slowed, dodged, sped up, and then slowed again. Nick got close enough for a shot and fired an arrow. It hit the shoulder; a few inches back and it would have been a quick kill, but the buck was bleeding heavily, and Nick knew it couldn’t go far. He slowed Falcon and kept the animal in sight with the duke just behind him.

The deer finally went down. Nick dismounted and approached cautiously, not sure if the buck was dead. Nick heard the duke walk up behind him and started to turn to ask if he had a knife to finish and dress the deer, but there was a sudden sharp impact on the side of his head, a burst of pain, and then blackness.

Elizabeth was bored. After breakfast she explored the castle, but if there was a library she couldn’t replace it. She asked a servant but only got a blank look in return. The hunting party would be gone all day, and there were no Denland women for her to socialize with. In desperation, she gathered up Sylvie, ordered the small carriage, and went into the town to shop.

It was more or less an overgrown fishing village, however the shops did carry things imported from other countries. Fashions there were hopelessly unfashionable, but she found several bolts of nice material and purchased them. Unfortunately, she had shopped the entire town by noon. She and her maid lunched at a decent tearoom, made sure her guard escort ate well too, and then went back to the castle.

In the afternoon Elizabeth took out her stitching and went to work. She liked doing it, and she had learned new stitches and improved quite a bit from when she had used her skills to sew up ripped seams and darn socks. She had gotten used to more exciting activities though, and now sitting alone making pretty patterns on a shirt for Nick wasn’t all that interesting.

She was relieved when she heard the hunting party return in late afternoon, although it turned out to be only half of it. When the group had separated only some of the hunters had found their way back to some of the others. She went down to see if Nick was there and what the hunters had gotten.

The duke had a nice medium-sized buck, and two others had good-sized does. The duke just nodded to her though and went off in a hurry. Nick wasn’t with this group, so she went to a sitting room with a window that looked out down the cliff where she could see the hunters straggle in. Long after everyone else had arrived, Nick was still missing. Elizabeth went to check with Winkershime; perhaps Nick had come in from another direction.

But the valet hadn’t seen him either, and the sun was nearing the horizon. Elizabeth went to tell the duke, and Winkershime hurried to the guard encampment to alert the guard captain. The captain sent out search parties immediately, but Elizabeth had a difficult time replaceing Duke Quenton.

Finally, she almost ran into him in a hallway. The duke was still dressed in his dirty hunting clothes, which seemed odd to her, but she dismissed it as the behavior of an unmarried man who wasn’t quite as adult as he should be.

“Duke Quenton, I’ve been looking for you. Prince Nicholas has not returned from the hunt. He doesn’t know the area; he could be lost or injured.”

“Perhaps he’s just reluctant to return empty-handed, or he could be lost, certainly. It’s easy to get turned around if you don’t know woodcraft. I’ll send out my foresters to look for him. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.”

Elizabeth didn’t care much for the duke’s lack of concern, but she knew the guard would be searching fervently until they found their prince. The captain was responsible for Nick’s safety, and he wouldn’t be a captain very long if anything bad happened to his charge. Besides, the guards liked Nick.

It slowly got dark. The duke’s foresters reported in first that they hadn’t found anything. There were many sets of tracks from the hunting party, and they hadn’t had enough time to sort them out and follow all of them.

The guards came back in groups of five, the way they had been sent out. Eight groups had gone out, only a few guards staying in camp in case there was some threat to Elizabeth too. She counted them as they came back, tired and disappointed with failure. The seventh and eighth groups came in together. They hadn’t quite failed; they had found Falcon and brought him in and reported in hushed tones that near where they had found the prince’s horse they had also found a blood trail to a place where a great deal of blood and gore had stained the ground.

“But Nick wasn’t there?” The guards turned with a guilty look. They hadn’t known she was there and would have reported the situation to her far more delicately.

“No, Lady Elizabeth,” one of the sergeants said. “We searched the area until it was too dark to see. We’ll go back at first light and keep looking until we replace him.”

“You couldn’t take torches and go out now? There are wild animals…”

“I’m sorry, my lady, but we wouldn’t be able to see anything much by torchlight. Tramping around, we could obliterate signs that might lead us to him. Dawn is the only sensible option.”

I don’t want sensible, I want Nick, Elizabeth thought, but she nodded her understanding of the man’s words. She turned and almost bumped into Winkershime. He looked terribly distressed, but stepped aside politely for her to pass him. Instead she took his arm and walked with him.

“Winkershime, what are his chances? No, don’t tell me pretty lies. I need to know the truth.”

The valet took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Very slim, if he’s injured badly. If the blood wasn’t his though, then he may manage quite well. And from the guards’ descriptions, I would say it’s nearly impossible that all the blood was the prince’s. He wouldn’t have been able to go anywhere in that condition.”

“If he lost that much blood, he would be dead, is what you’re trying to say.”

“Yes, but they didn’t replace his body, which means the blood wasn’t his and he’s alive. I don’t understand why he left Falcon though. It troubles me deeply I cannot fathom a situation in which he would go off into the woods and leave his horse and bow.”

“They found his bow too?”

“Yes, it was just lying on the ground near the blood. It makes me think he used it to shoot an animal, but then what? There was no animal there. Just blood, the bow, and a short distance away, his horse.”

They reached Elizabeth’s room. “It really doesn’t make any sense, does it? So there’s hope yet. If we could only figure out what happened, perhaps we would have an idea where to look for him.”

“Agreed, my lady. I will think long and hard on it, and in the morning I will go out and look at the site myself. If you have any ideas, tell me, please, no matter what time it is.”

“I will, Winkershime, if you promise to do the same.”

“I do promise, Lady Elizabeth. Keep up your hopes, Prince Nicholas is a clever, determined young man. He hasn’t much experience at living rough, but Prince Richard did take him out a time or two and taught him a great deal about how to survive. If there’s any chance at all, we will be seeing him alive and well tomorrow.”

“Thank you, it helps to hear that.”

“Sleep if you can, my lady. Tomorrow is likely to be a long day.”

Elizabeth didn’t think she would sleep much, but she did. She woke to the predawn lightening of the darkness, rose, and dressed in riding clothes. She was going out to look too; no more waiting around for the men to come back and report.

The castle halls were still deserted, but she could hear noises from outside. The Progress camp was up and breakfasting, so she went out and got in line for food. Someone put a hand on her elbow, and Winkershime took her out of line and sat her on one of a pair of folding chairs and told her to wait there. Elizabeth was surprised at how he looked, not at all like a valet but more like a soldier in civilian dress.

In a moment he returned with bowls of porridge and mugs of tea, and they ate together in silence. Two guards rode up with Elizabeth’s gelding and another horse as they finished their breakfasts. As they mounted, the prince’s valet explained that the two guards were among those who had found Falcon yesterday and would take them to the spot, and no one would interfere with the area until they were done there.

They galloped along the cliff top and then turned into the woods without slowing down. Elizabeth was very glad she was a competent rider now; she needed to be included in the search. When they reached the blowdown area, the guards slowed down to a walk and explained how the hunting party had split up there, two sets of hoof prints leading to where they had found Falcon.

When they reached that place, they all dismounted. One of the guards stayed with the horses, the second led them to the blood trail and the area where flies gathered over dried blood and undefined lumps of something. Unfortunately, any areas that were bare of vegetation had been walked on by so many people and horses there was no way to deduce anything by footprints.

Winkershime said, “There was someone with the prince, but whoever it was left on his horse since only one horse was found. Or someone found Falcon and this place later, but left without taking the prince’s horse or reporting it. Either way says treachery to me.”

“But that doesn’t tell us where Nick is now.”

“Two men came on two horses. Both men left, but only one horse left. Therefore I think both men left on one horse, and the prince wouldn’t have voluntarily left Falcon.”

“So you think he was forced in some way?”

“Perhaps, but that doesn’t explain the missing animal. Something was killed here, there are entrails.”

“You think the blood is from an animal?” asked Elizabeth eagerly with relief in her voice.

“A deer very likely, since Prince Nicholas had his bow in hand before he dropped it. If he wounded it and trailed it until it went down, then he would have killed it there,” Winkershine said, pointing at the most bloody spot. “He dropped his bow to finish the animal off, perhaps, although he rarely carries a knife, so perhaps not. But how did one horse carry two men and a deer? And why was Falcon left behind?”

“Because everyone who knows Nick would recognize Falcon.”

“I think you’re right, Lady Elizabeth. But it still makes no sense because the prince wasn’t brought back to the castle where someone would recognize his horse. Do we know who brought back the deer?”

The guard answered, “Duke Quenton, Sir Mallory, and Sir Evans.”

Winkershime just shook his head a little. “There’s no reason for any of them to assail the prince for a deer, is there? It’s not like there’s some fantastic prize involved. But someone else who needed the venison badly might have. Recall how desperate some of those poor people seemed a village or two back. If such a person saw a lone man with a deer, he might attack and take the meat. There’s only one problem with that theory.”

“If the assailant was so poor, he wouldn’t have been riding a horse,” Elizabeth concluded.

“Precisely. The other hunters with the prince had no motive to attack him. They didn’t know him except by his title. The duke just met him yesterday, and while he may have dragged Prince Nicholas to an annoying meeting, that’s hardly in the same class as a physical assault. Someone hearing the hunt may have followed and attacked, but what was the motive? We’ve established that a man wealthy enough to own a horse isn’t going to be driven to violence for deer meat.”

“Perhaps the attacker was an anarchist?”

Winkershime just looked perplexed. “I suppose that’s as good a motive as any, except that an anarchist wouldn’t have kidnapped the prince, unless we’re to get a ransom demand. But again, why leave Falcon? How would a passing anarchist even know Prince Nicholas was a prince? He wasn’t dressed any differently than the other hunters. I’m sorry, Lady Elizabeth, I simply can’t make any sense out of it.”

Elizabeth had tears in her eyes. She said, “Neither can I. What do we do now?”

“Call in the general search again. I’ll tell the captain to do a thorough check of the woods and any nearby buildings. If we don’t replace him there, then search the town, local farms, everything. We’ll keep looking until we replace him.”

“Winkershime?” Elizabeth put her hand on his arm. “If Nick is…is dead, he could be buried out here.”

The valet put his hand over hers. “The guard has already been looking for freshly turned earth, and they haven’t found any. Don’t give up. Never give up. Just wait, he’ll probably saunter in with a big grin on his face just in time for a meal. He’s like that, you know, he does things like that.” Elizabeth could tell he was trying to convince himself as much as her.

“Yes, he does, doesn’t he?” she said, trying to sound like she believed it would happen.

“Let’s go back to the castle now and let the guard do its work.”

“The Progress isn’t going to leave here, not until we replace him no matter how long it takes,” Elizabeth stated emphatically.

“That’s right. We stay until we replace him no matter how long it takes.”