“Please, sir,” she said, her voice raw and hoarse, “might I sit a spell by your fire?”
He eyed her. Rain, coming heavier now, dripped down her face and off her chin, plastering her long hair to her shoulders. But part of an ugly red scab on her neck still showed. Her skin was white as a ghost’s, her eyes wide and frightened. But as he looked into those eyes a moment longer, he drew back behind his door. “Eh, git ’long wit yer,” he growled. “Dars talk o’ dragons abroad, en I b’ain’t takin’ no risks. Git, yer hear? No dawdlin’.”
“Please, sir – ”
He slammed the door in her face, shutting out her glimpse of warmth.
Wet and miserable, she sank to her knees on the doorstep, leaning her forehead against the soggy wood. “Please!” She raised a fist and pounded. “Do I look like a dragon? Please, just for a moment!”
“Git, I said!” the innkeeper called from the other side and refused to answer her again.
She turned and pressed her back against the door, drew up her knees, and wrapped her arms around them. Maybe her fire would drown and she would just die?
How long she sat, she couldn’t say, but she was startled from a half sleep by the sound of hooves. Looking up, she saw a company of twenty-some horsemen squelch into town. Their bridles and gear were all blue and silver, and one of them wore a cloak with the royal insignia of Beauclair emblazoned on the back.
The company pulled up before the inn, and stableboys darted out to take the horses while the men dismounted. The sullen and soggy leader stumped to the inn door, nearly stepping on Una before he noticed her.
“Out of my way, girl,” he growled, nudging her none too gently aside with his boot, then pounded on the inn door. “Ho, innkeeper! Open for your prince!”
“Prince Gervais!” she cried, scrambling to her feet. “Gervais!”
The prince took no notice of her. The door swung open, and the grizzled innkeeper bowed until his head nearly touched his knees. “Yer Highness is most welcome,” he said, ushering the prince in by the fire. “Oh that yer would grace my ’umble ’stablishment! I b’ain’t able to ’spress the honor – ”
“Spiced cider. Now,” the prince said, flinging aside his wet cloak and holding out his hands to the flames. His company gathered around him. Unnoticed, Una slipped in with them, lingering in a shadowed corner of the room.
“And may I ’quire,” the innkeeper said as he and his servants carried in twenty-odd mugs of hot cider for the prince and his men, “what brings Yer Highness to these ’umble barts? May I venture dat ye is aimin’ for Parumvir to hunt deh dragon ’bout which we’ve heard tell?”
The prince took a long draft from his mug before answering, “You guess well, old man. Such indeed is my intent.” He leaned forward, closer to the fire, gazed into its depths, and muttered, “I intend to collect that bounty money; heaven help me if I don’t!”
One of Gervais’s men pulled his chair up beside the prince and spoke in a low voice. Standing near in the shadows, Una heard each word.
“Your Highness.”
“What?”
“We cannot go on,” the man said. “You know that.”
“Yes, we can.”
“Your Highness, please. It is yet a full day’s journey to Parumvir, many more till we’ll reach the capital. By all accounts the king has fled his own city, and the Duke of Shippening has taken up residence. For all we know the dragon won’t be there when we arrive; perhaps he was never there at all.”
“Oh, he’s there all right,” Gervais said. “I know it. He’s got to be.”
“Your Highness – ”
“Have you any idea what the bounty on a dragon’s head is?” Gervais snapped. “More than you’ll ever see in a lifetime!”
“Only if you succeed in killing the beast.”
The prince growled something indecipherable. His man shook his head. “Give it up, Your Highness. You knew it was a fool’s errand when you first heard of it two days ago.”
“I need that bounty, Andre,” Gervais said. “It’s that or the widow.”
“Then go back to the widow before she chooses one of her other ten suitors. You could still win her, even after leaving abruptly as you did. But not if you continue this chase any longer.”
Gervais growled again, but his man pressed his case. “You know what she said. She will choose a new husband on the eve of her birthday. You have only three days, but you could yet win her if you return now. You are the favorite.”
“Lucky me.”
“You’ll not find the dragon in that time, prince, and even if you do, you’ll still have to face its fire.”
“I’d rather that than the widow.”
“The widow is a guarantee.” The man took Gervais’s arm and shook it. “All your debts paid! Is that not worth something?”
The prince sank his head into his hand, slumping deep in his chair. “If only I’d succeeded with that princess in Parumvir.”