Knight's Prize by Sarah McKerrigan Read Free Book Online Page A

and
bundles across the hall, climbing up the tower stairs, descending to the
storerooms below.
    "Preparations
for the wedding feast," Miriel explained, as they passed a pair of maids
polishing the oak trestle tables with rags and a pot of beeswax.
    Rand
nodded. The ceremony in two days might prove fortuitous indeed. What thief
could resist lightening the purses of departing wedding guests, who were likely
to be suffering from the groggy aftereffects of their merrymaking? If Rand
kept a close watch on the woods the morn after the feast, he was sure to catch
the robber.
    "You
can keep your things here," Miriel told him, opening a large oak chest
along the wall that was filled with several similar satchels.
    As
Rand dropped his belongings inside, a young lad approached and bobbed his head.
"My lady, the wine's arrived from the monastery, but Cook says it's
short."
    "Short?
How short?"
    The
lad screwed up his face, trying to remember. "Twoscore?"
    Miriel
gasped. "Twoscore? Are you sure? 'Tis only half what I asked for."
    "Aye,
twoscore short."
    While
Miriel chewed at her lip, considering what to do, another servant came up, an
old woman with a face like a dried apple.
    "That
God-cursed spice monger," she groused. "He's wantin' more coin for
his goods now."
    Miriel
furrowed her brows. "Well, he can't have more
coin."
    "That's
what I told him."
    "And?"
    "He
says it cost him more this time, on account of his ship was attacked by
miscreants."
    "That's
not my concern."
    The
wrinkled old woman shrugged, and Miriel clenched her teeth in frustration.
    Then
a couple approached, a stout woman looking smug as she
hauled up a stick of a man who worried his doffed hat in his hands.
    "'Go
ahead," the woman said, "tell the lady what ye've done."
    "Beggin'
yer pardon, m'lady," he said, "but one of the
hounds got loose and... and..."
    The
woman crossed her arms over her generous chest. "Pissed all over the table
linens, he did."
    "He
didn't mean to," the man argued. "Besides, what were they doin',
hangin' up on the bushes?"
    "They
were airin', ye big dolt."
    Miriel
held up her hand for silence, then turned to Rand. "I'm sorry."
    "You
have your hands full."
    "I'm
in charge of the castle accounts," she explained. "I'm likely to be
quite busy over the next two days with the wedding preparations."
    "Anything
I can do to help?"
    "Not
really. Unless you'd like to interrogate the hounds."
    He
grinned at her dry wit. "'Tis such lovely weather, my love, I think I'll
take a stroll about the countryside, get to know your magnificent
Rivenloch." Taking a few things from his satchel, he nodded to the others,
excusing himself from their company, but not before hearing the stout woman
echo in wonder, "My love?"
    Rand
smiled to himself. He couldn't believe his good fortune. Not only had he
managed to secure an excuse for being at Rivenloch, an excuse that was young
and desirable and lovely to look upon, but it seemed the lass was too
preoccupied to pay him much mind, which meant he had the freedom to track the
outlaw at his leisure.
    He
wasted no time. Armed with his sword, a pair of daggers, and the shackles, and
taking along his silver in order to remove temptation from that overcurious
Miriel, he set out to explore the forest on foot.
    The
woods of Rivenloch were beautiful in a fey, wild way. Moss covered the stones
and the trunks of
the sycamores
and cedars, muffling the sounds of his footfalls as he searched along the
leafy path. Beside him, fern fronds bowed under the weight of
dragonflies, and over-bead, rust-colored squirrels leaped from branch to branch
with cheeks full of acorns. Toadstools clustered like bald-pated old men at the
foot of ancient oaks. The mist had all but vanished, and here and there, where
shafts of sunlight shot to the ground, a lizard or a mouse might pause in its
scurrying to soak up the precious warm rays.
    'Twas
the kind of place one could imagine inhabited by all sorts of magical woodland
creatures—mischievous sprites and