to the shrubbery-hidden stream. I managed one glimpse of Jewel, who wept in sheer rage as she stalked between two big fellows in ill-fitting blue tunics.
I resisted as best I could, but it made absolutely no difference. I berated myself for refusing Maxl’s offers to share his lessons in sword fighting because it cut into my music time.
All right then, if you can’t fight, scream. I drew in my breath but one of the fellows in the blue tunics said in an embarrassed half-command, half-apology, “If you yell, we have to gag you.”
I still couldn’t believe it was really happening. The familiar garden, the nodding roses, the smell of jasmine, made the crunching martial footsteps, the subdued clink of chain mail absurd.
My thoughts raced around inside my head like frightened mice, squeaking: Not again! Not again! Not again!
And then we stopped.
Jewel gasped.
There, leaning against an oak tree, sword point resting on the ground, was Jason Szinzar.
Chapter Ten
“Clean job, boys,” he said to the fellows in blue. And to Jewel, “It’s been a long time, little sister.”
Jewel stomped around in a circle. “How dare you! Oh, how I loathe you! Curse you! Norsunder take you!”
Several of the guards looked away, their expressions wooden. The biggest one blushed to the tips of his ears as he caught hold of Jewel again.
Jason gave her one sardonic glance, then saluted me with his sword. “We meet again.” Was he trying not to laugh?
Since I couldn’t think of an insult vast enough to express my irritation, I glared.
“You notice,” Jewel snarled over her shoulder to me, while doing her best to wrench free, “the rotten coward slunk about here and didn’t even have to listen to the poems.”
“Perfidious,” I declared.
“Let’s go.” Jason waved a hand and turned away. He was! He really was on the verge of laughter. And so were some of his men.
I glowered at his back, not believing what was about to happen.
But it did.
They ringed us so there was no chance of running (not that I could have run far or fast in that fragile gown) and someone came forward with lengths of cotton fabric and huge, heavy woolen army cloaks. Despite our efforts, Jewel and I had cloth wrapped round our faces as gags, sashes round our wrists, and the rest of us swathed tightly in those cloaks. When we had been wrapped like rugs, we were picked up and carried. It was hot and breathless inside that cocoon, making it impossible to struggle any longer.
We were deposited in something that was soon shaking and rumbling.
I suspect the binding and the cloaks were mostly to keep us busy. Jason, unlike Jaim, knew what he was about when he wanted to make off with a pair of princesses.
When we had fought our way free of the cloaks and gags, gasping and sweaty, it was to discover that we were in a chaise. The windows had been wedged shut and the door locked from without. From the rocking, I was certain that four, perhaps six horses pulled it.
Peering at the narrow windows showed outriders still wearing Lygieran blue. No one would stop us. I was angry—and amazed at the sheer effrontery, so audacious it was going to be successful.
“Here, help me get these knots undone,” I said to Jewel, who wept in passionate fury. Her breath shuddered as she endeavored valiantly to suppress her tears, and we sat back to back.
We wasted a lot of time getting the sashes loose, and then we wasted more time trying to pry the windows open. At last we sank back, exhausted, angry, and I have to admit, afraid.
“Spaquel set us up,” I said. “For Jason? I do not understand. Something’s missing, I feel sure.”
“Yes! His head! Or will be, when I get free and find myself a nice, big sword. Argh!”
“Spaquel or your brother?”
“Both! But especially Spaquel!” Jewel struck her fist against the cushioned seat. “That’s another thing that makes me desperate. I thought I was so clever in flirting with him, and he was intending this outrage
I resisted as best I could, but it made absolutely no difference. I berated myself for refusing Maxl’s offers to share his lessons in sword fighting because it cut into my music time.
All right then, if you can’t fight, scream. I drew in my breath but one of the fellows in the blue tunics said in an embarrassed half-command, half-apology, “If you yell, we have to gag you.”
I still couldn’t believe it was really happening. The familiar garden, the nodding roses, the smell of jasmine, made the crunching martial footsteps, the subdued clink of chain mail absurd.
My thoughts raced around inside my head like frightened mice, squeaking: Not again! Not again! Not again!
And then we stopped.
Jewel gasped.
There, leaning against an oak tree, sword point resting on the ground, was Jason Szinzar.
Chapter Ten
“Clean job, boys,” he said to the fellows in blue. And to Jewel, “It’s been a long time, little sister.”
Jewel stomped around in a circle. “How dare you! Oh, how I loathe you! Curse you! Norsunder take you!”
Several of the guards looked away, their expressions wooden. The biggest one blushed to the tips of his ears as he caught hold of Jewel again.
Jason gave her one sardonic glance, then saluted me with his sword. “We meet again.” Was he trying not to laugh?
Since I couldn’t think of an insult vast enough to express my irritation, I glared.
“You notice,” Jewel snarled over her shoulder to me, while doing her best to wrench free, “the rotten coward slunk about here and didn’t even have to listen to the poems.”
“Perfidious,” I declared.
“Let’s go.” Jason waved a hand and turned away. He was! He really was on the verge of laughter. And so were some of his men.
I glowered at his back, not believing what was about to happen.
But it did.
They ringed us so there was no chance of running (not that I could have run far or fast in that fragile gown) and someone came forward with lengths of cotton fabric and huge, heavy woolen army cloaks. Despite our efforts, Jewel and I had cloth wrapped round our faces as gags, sashes round our wrists, and the rest of us swathed tightly in those cloaks. When we had been wrapped like rugs, we were picked up and carried. It was hot and breathless inside that cocoon, making it impossible to struggle any longer.
We were deposited in something that was soon shaking and rumbling.
I suspect the binding and the cloaks were mostly to keep us busy. Jason, unlike Jaim, knew what he was about when he wanted to make off with a pair of princesses.
When we had fought our way free of the cloaks and gags, gasping and sweaty, it was to discover that we were in a chaise. The windows had been wedged shut and the door locked from without. From the rocking, I was certain that four, perhaps six horses pulled it.
Peering at the narrow windows showed outriders still wearing Lygieran blue. No one would stop us. I was angry—and amazed at the sheer effrontery, so audacious it was going to be successful.
“Here, help me get these knots undone,” I said to Jewel, who wept in passionate fury. Her breath shuddered as she endeavored valiantly to suppress her tears, and we sat back to back.
We wasted a lot of time getting the sashes loose, and then we wasted more time trying to pry the windows open. At last we sank back, exhausted, angry, and I have to admit, afraid.
“Spaquel set us up,” I said. “For Jason? I do not understand. Something’s missing, I feel sure.”
“Yes! His head! Or will be, when I get free and find myself a nice, big sword. Argh!”
“Spaquel or your brother?”
“Both! But especially Spaquel!” Jewel struck her fist against the cushioned seat. “That’s another thing that makes me desperate. I thought I was so clever in flirting with him, and he was intending this outrage
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