Silverthorn (Riftware Sage Book 2)

Jimmy faltered a half-step. It had never occurred to him that Arutha wouldn’t tell Anita of the assassin, but now he realized he hadn’t. Of course, Jimmy thought to himself, he wouldn’t needlessly throw a pall over the wedding. Quickly he recovered his poise. “It was more an accident than anything. His Highness never said anything about looking for me.”

 

 

“You’ll not know how Arutha and I worried about you all the time after we left Krondor. Last we saw you, you were fleeing across the docks from Guy’s men. We had no word of you. We passed through Krondor so quickly on our way to Lyam’s coronation, we had no way to discover what had happened to you. Lyam sent warrants pardoning Trevor Hull and his men and giving them a commission for helping us, but no one knew what became of Jimmy. I didn’t think he would make you a squire just yet, but I knew he had plans for you.”

 

Jimmy felt genuinely moved. This revelation added double meaning to Arutha’s remark before that he liked to think they were already friends.

 

Anita halted their walk, indicating a door. “I am to stand for a fitting. My wedding gown arrived from Rillanon this morning.” She leaned over and kissed him lightly upon the cheek. “Now I must go.”

 

Jimmy fought down strange, and frighteningly strong, emotions. “Highness . . . I am also glad to be here. We shall have a grand time.”

 

She laughed and passed through the door with her ladies, the guards taking up position outside. Jimmy waited until the door was closed, then walked away whistling a light tune. He reflected upon the last few weeks of his life and judged himself happy, despite assassins and tight boots.

 

Rounding a corner into a less frequented hallway, Jimmy halted. His dagger was instantly in his hand as he stood regarding a gleaming pair of eyes in the half-shadows before him. Then with a snuffling sound the owner of those nearly glowing red eyes ambled out. Covered in green scales, the creature bulked about the size of a small hound. His head resembled an alligator’s, with a rounded snout, and large wings were folded across his back. A long, sinuous neck allowed the creature to look backward past an equally long tail as a young voice shouted from behind, “Fantus!”

 

A small boy, no more than six years old, came dashing forward to throw his arms around the creature’s neck. He looked up at Jimmy with serious dark eyes and said, “He won’t hurt you, sir.”

 

Jimmy suddenly felt awkward holding his dagger and quickly put it away. The creature was obviously a pet, albeit an unusual sort. “What did you call it . . . ?”

 

“Him? Fantus. He’s my friend and he’s very smart. He knows lots of things. “

 

“I guess he does,” agreed Jimmy, still uncomfortable under the creature’s gaze. “What is he?”

 

The boy looked at Jimmy as if he were the living incarnation of ignorance, but said, “A firedrake. We just got here, and he followed from home. He can fly, you know.” Jimmy only nodded. “We have to get back. Momma will be angry if we’re not in our room.” Pulling the creature around, the boy led him away without another word.

 

Jimmy didn’t move for a full minute, then looked around as if seeking someone to validate the vision he had witnessed. Shrugging off his astonishment, the boy thief continued walking along. After a little while he could hear the sound of lute strings being plucked.

 

Jimmy left the hallway and entered a large garden, where Laurie was tuning his lute. The boy sat upon the edge of a planter, crossing his feet under him, and said, “For a minstrel, you’re a sorry sight.”

 

“I’m a sorry sort of minstrel.” Laurie did look less than his usual spirited self. He fiddled with his lute strings and began a solemn tune.

 

After a few minutes Jimmy said, “Enough of this dirge, singer. This is supposed to be a time of cheer. What’s gotten you so long in the face?”

 

Laurie sighed, his head cocked to one side. “You’re a bit young to understand—”

 

“Ha! Try me,” interrupted Jimmy.

 

Laurie put up his lute. “It’s the Princess Carline.”

 

“Still wants to marry you, huh?”

 

Laurie’s jaw dropped. “How . . .?”

 

Jimmy laughed. “You’ve been around nobles too long, singer. I’m new to all this. I still know how to talk to servants. More important, I know how to listen. Those maids from Rillanon were fit to bust to tell the maids here all about you and Princess Carline. You’re quite an item.”

 

Laurie seemed unamused by Jimmy’s mirth. “I suppose you’ve heard the whole tale?”

 

Jimmy took on an indifferent manner. “The Princess is a prize, but I grew up in a whorehouse, so my views on women are less . . . idealized.” As he thought of Anita, his voice dropped a little. “Still, I must admit princesses seem different from the rest. “

 

“Nice that you noticed,” Laurie commented dryly.

 

“Well, I’ll say this: your Princess is the finest-looking woman I’ve seen and I’ve seen a lot of them, including your better-paid courtesans, and some of them are pretty special. Most men I know would sell their darling mothers to get her attention. So then, what’s your problem?”

 

Laurie looked at the boy for a minute. “My problem is this business of being a noble.”