Royal Quarry by Charlotte Rahn-Lee Read Free Book Online

Albert reached back a hand and grabbed onto Manning. He held onto him as the hounds came bounding into the clearing, excited by the blood, and let go only as the first people arrived, because it would never do to be seen clinging to his bodyguard.
    There were a lot of them, some on horseback, some on foot a little ways behind. Mostly they were wearing blue. He didn’t understand why their clothing looked so familiar. Shouldn’t Charles’ servants be in red? And then he heard a familiar voice.
    “ You shot that ?” The incredulous question came from a young man on horseback, his gold-embroidered jacket making him stand out against the trees. Albert laughed out loud. It was his cousin. It was his goddamn cousin Godfried. They were not in Morania at all. Manning had taken him home.
    “Yes!” Albert lied, a grin spreading over his face. “I did!”
     
     
    A LBERT was feeling less jovial some two hours later, standing in a stately anteroom, waiting to be admitted to his father’s presence. The giddy strangeness of finding himself at home had worn off, and even Godfried’s consternation and ill-concealed jealousy failed to raise his spirits as fatigue took over. He’d ridden one of the horses back to the castle, escorted by some of the hunting party. He was thankful for the mount as his whole body ached, but he knew very well that his adventure was not yet over: he would have to go see his father. The servants had entirely taken over the further dressing and transporting of his supposed kill, so he’d had nothing to distract him from the prospect of this impending interview as he took the last, small leg of his journey home.
    What was the most troubling to him was that he had completely lost track of Manning. In all the bustle that accompanied the arrival of the hunting party, the man who had been his constant companion for the past four days, who had disobeyed his command to bring him home, had vanished. Albert had been handed off into the care of other servants; now he was somebody else’s problem. Washed, pampered and dressed, waiting for his father to admit him, he could think of nothing he wanted more than Manning’s presence. Instead there were six other of his father’s guard to keep him company: two at each door, and an extra pair against the wall for good measure. Albert found himself scanning their faces, although he knew that none of them was the one he sought. Where was Manning? Was he in trouble? Had he run away? Was he being tortured by the king now? Was that what his father was so occupied with that Albert must wait in this damn anteroom?
    When Albert was finally ushered into the receiving room, he was relieved to see no evidence of any such scene. Edward was standing beside his chair, casting an eye over some papers in his hand. He barely seemed to notice his son’s arrival. Albert knew that this nonchalance was affected, put on in the morning like his purple robe, some aspect of majesty meant to set you at ease, or unnerve you, depending on your character. To Albert, everything about his father was unnerving.
    “I hear I am to congratulate you,” said the king, finally glancing up from his papers.
    “Sir,” replied Albert, as noncommittally as he could manage. His father’s conversation was full of traps.
    “I haven’t seen the animal myself, but I am told it is nearly sixty stone and with a set of antlers that should make any huntsman proud.”
    A long silence followed this pronouncement as Edward waited for his son to accept the compliment, but Albert said nothing.
    “Have I been misinformed?” asked the king.
    “It was a large deer,” said Albert. His palms were sweating, and he hoped his father couldn’t tell how dry his mouth felt.
    “Tell me how you came across it.”
    Albert knew that his only chance of protecting Manning was to make it sound as if the man had done everything he could to carry out his mission but that Albert had thwarted him. Of course, the most important thing