chapter FIFTY-TWO
CUNNING AND FOLLY
‘You should have let the dogs loose! My father puts vixens in their cages when they are puppies, so they learn to like the taste. You should see what they do with them!’
The same angry rant, every time they stopped for a break. The Snow-White apple had made Louis even more unpredictable – or was it the toad spawn? If it hadn’t been for Lelou, the princeling would have killed Reckless as soon as Nerron led him out of the stable. The future King of Lotharaine really was as stupid as he looked. No, Nerron, much stupider.
‘Foxes are smarter than dogs.’ The Waterman was sitting in the grass, examining his injured foot. He had smeared on it some ointment that he’d found in the Witch’s house, and now the scaly skin around the wound had turned as white as a mushroom.
‘You’re treating that filthy swine like a raw egg!’ Louis rammed his sword so hard into the flame that the sparks singed Nerron’s skin. ‘He’s been giving us the runaround for weeks. Have you already forgotten everything you learnt as my father’s bodyguard?’ he barked at Eaumbre. ‘He has you treat prisoners who think they’re smarter than him very differently.’
Eaumbre pulled the boot over his injured foot.
‘Fetch him!’ Louis ordered.
The Waterman got up quietly, but Nerron stood in his way.
‘He’s my prisoner.’
‘Really? Since when?’ Louis got up. He was swaying a little, but the arrogance on his face was truly regal. Every evening, Eaumbre tied Reckless to one of the carriage wheels. Nerron liked to picture swapping him for Louis and letting the horses have the whip.
The Waterman pushed past him and hobbled to the carriage.
Reckless was still pale from the Witch’s bloodletting, and the Bluebeard had cut a few bloody patterns into his soft skin, but his face still had the same infuriatingly fearless expression it had worn when he faced the wolves.
He even offered his tied hands to Nerron. ‘The Waterman ties the ropes so tight that my fingers are dying off. How about you take these off me? I’m not planning on running.’
‘And why not?’ Louis wiped some grease from his mouth with his velvet sleeve. The dog man had shot two rabbits, and Louis had eaten them both himself. ‘You know what my father does to spies from Albion?’
Reckless shot an amused glance at Nerron. His eyes were asking, Really? A spy? You owe me, Goyl.
‘Oh that . . . that’s just a sideline,’ he said out loud. ‘I’m actually a treasure hunter, like the Goyl. And I’m afraid we’ll have to join forces for this hunt. You have the head and the hand. I have the heart. And if that’s not enough, then ask the Dwarfs whether they know where Guismond’s body is.’
Oh, the cunning dog.
It took Louis a few seconds to comprehend what Reckless was saying. He was now swaying so much that he nearly fell into the fire as he staggered towards him. Lelou fed him toad spawn thrice daily (the Waterman was often gone hours to find it), but the effect always wore off towards the evening. And the princely breath again smelled of elven dust as well.
‘You obviously forget who you’re talking to!’ Louis tried very hard to sound menacing.
Reckless gave the hint of a bow. ‘Louis of Lotharaine. I worked for your father, but you probably don’t remember. He needed an antidote to a love potion. Your cousin was the perpetrator, and you were the victim. Didn’t she turn you into a frog?’
‘That story was spread by my father’s enemies.’ Louis nearly swallowed his tongue with rage. ‘I was against leaving your friend with the Witch. You would have called the vixen back if the Waterman had cut off your fingers one by one.’
‘My prince!’ Nerron wasn’t sure whether Lelou’s voice sounded indignant or impressed.
Louis paid no attention to him. ‘Call her back,’ he panted. ‘Now! Or I’ll order the Waterman to cut off your fingers. My father usually has them start with the thumbs.’
He nodded at the Waterman. Eaumbre’s scaly face didn’t show what he thought of the order, but he did draw his knife.
‘Call her back? How am I supposed to do that?’ Reckless asked. ‘Fox is probably miles ahead of us. Her paws are faster than your golden carriage. She’ll be waiting for me by the Dead City. Ask the Goyl. I’m certain the crossbow is there. And I bet you the heart that without me and the Goyl, you won’t survive more than three steps in those ruins.’
Louis’s face turned as white as curdled milk.
‘Forget his fingers,’ he barked at the Waterman. ‘Cut his throat!’
Eaumbre hesitated. But then he put his knife to Reckless’s throat.
Enough. Nerron grabbed Louis and pulled him away.
‘Aren’t you listening?’ he hissed. ‘He doesn’t just have the heart! He also has Guismond’s body. What good do you think the hand and the head are without it? Kill him, fine, but then you explain to your father why we couldn’t find the crossbow.’
Louis stared at him as though he was going to cut off Nerron’s fingers next. Not so easy with a Goyl, princeling. ‘He insulted me. I want to see him dead. Now!’
The Waterman was looking at them, his knife still on Reckless’s throat. In times of emergency, Nerron’s mother used to pray to some mysterious Queen who lived in a copper mountain and wore a dress of malachite. Nerron would have loved to ask her to put just a grain of reason into the crown prince’s head, but salvation already came scurrying to Louis’s side in the shape of Lelou.
‘My prince!’ he whispered with an appeasing smile. ‘I’m afraid the Goyl is right. From time to time, even your father has to collaborate with his enemies. You can still kill Reckless later.’
Louis frowned (it was touching how humans’ skin creased up when they tried to think) and gave their prisoner a menacing look.
‘Fine. Keep him alive for now!’ he ordered the Waterman. ‘But tighten those ropes.’