Alex Bledsoe - The Sword-Edged blonde

Suddenly Rhiannon realized how she sounded, and nervously laughed. “I’m sorry, I can’t explain any of that. I must’ve been a horsewoman in my earlier life. Too bad I can’t remember it.” She smiled sheepishly and handed me Lola’s reins.

“Yeah, too bad,” Anders agreed. “Can we go now?”

I helped Rhiannon onto the saddle in front of me, both her legs hanging off the right side. She snuggled against my chest as we trotted off toward the road that connected Hyde Park with the royal forest.

It was late enough that the traffic was thin, and the alarm from the queen’s escape did not overtake us. I knew that once we reclaimed Pridiri, we could return to the city by the main gate and march right up to the castle door.

When we got within sight of Prince Pridiri’s hiding place, we hid off the trail in a thick grove of trees. Mosquitoes, drawn by our sweat and the blood splattered on Rhiannon, swarmed us. I pointed up the path ahead. “He’s in there.”

Rhiannon gasped. “ That’s who took him?”

“No. But that’s where he is.”

Anders looked skeptical. “You’re sure? I mean… ”

“I’m sure.”

“ Why? ” Rhiannon said, packing outrage and incomprehension into her whispered query.

I dismounted and handed the reins to Rhiannon. “Give me five minutes. Mike, if I haven’t signaled you by then, use your best judgment.”

I walked out of the woods and down the path to the cottage door. No lights showed behind any of the curtains. I knocked like I really meant business. “Hey! Open up!”

A lamp blazed in a window, and somewhere a baby started crying. I knocked again, and used the same voice that once sent tough mercenaries into battle. “No bullshit, open up! I mean it!”

The door opened, and royal game warden Terry Vint appeared. He held up the lamp to verify my identity. “Eddie?” he said sleepily. “What the hell-”

“I’m here for Pridiri, Terry,” I said. “His mom’s down the road, and she’ll be here in about five minutes. I don’t want any trouble.”

Shana Vint appeared behind him, holding a fidgety baby. Two other small children clung to her nightgown skirt. “Terry? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Terry said, but I saw the flash of genuine terror in his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Just tell me if I’ve got this right. The night Queen Rhiannon supposedly murdered her son, a scary blond guy showed up here with a baby. He figured one more face in this brood wouldn’t be noticed. He wouldn’t tell you who the baby was, but he told you to keep him, and threatened your own kids if you let anybody know. You’re a good judge of people, Terry, and you could tell he was for real. Once word got out of what happened at the castle, though, you knew who he’d given you. Hiding him right under the king’s nose was brilliant. When the crisis started, Phil had no spare time for hunting, so nobody came out here. And you kept quiet, just like you promised.”

Terry swallowed hard. “I couldn’t risk my family, Eddie,” he finally choked out.

“I know. And you were right, the guy would’ve killed any of your kids without blinking. But not anymore.”

“How do you know?”

“I was there.”

He absorbed this for a moment. Then he sighed, with both relief and apprehension, and motioned Shana forward.

She disengaged from her own brood and stepped to the door, holding the same fat, dark-haired baby I’d seen in her arms weeks before. Tears ran down her face. “He already feels like one of mine.”

“Eddie, man, damn. How’d you know? ” Terry asked.

“When I visited you, you told me you had five kids. Mentioned it a couple of times. I counted six, and since the baby doesn’t look a thing like either one of you, I could guess who he was.” Oh, if only I were so bright. It took weeks for that nagging detail to finally announce itself. But nobody else needed to know that.

Shana held Pridiri out to me. I shook my head, and whistled sharply to signal Anders. To Shana I said, “You can give him back to his mother.”

Rhiannon emerged from the woods like a ghost materializing from the darkness. Her pale skin and flaxen hair glowed bone-white in the moonlight. Shana gasped, for a moment actually convinced this was some ghoulish banshee. Then Anders appeared behind her, leading the horses. I stepped aside so Rhiannon could see her son.

With a cry she ran forward, practically knocked me over and took the baby from Shana. She swayed as she clutched him, murmuring, “Pridiri, Pridiri, my baby.” Terry and Shana slowly knelt, and gestured at the rest of their now-awakened clan to do the same.

Rhiannon spun in place, laughing and crying. Finally she stopped, saw the Vints on their knees and wiped at her tears. “I don’t know why you hid him from me, Terry,” she said, torn between relief and anger, “but thank you for at least keeping him safe.”

“They’re not the bad guys,” I said. “They’re victims just like you.”

Rhiannon and Shana exchanged a significant, probably mother-exclusive look. Then the queen smiled. “Then I thank you even more for caring enough to protect him. Please, stand up. Under the circumstances it seems silly to be formal.”

“Would you like to come in?” Shana said, reflexively polite before she could stop herself. The thought that the queen might accept the invitation visibly terrified her.

Rhiannon looked at me over Pridiri’s fuzzy head. “I’d really just like to go home now.”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

The city gates were guarded and blocked by the time we returned, but of course they let us through when they saw Rhiannon and Pridiri. After conferring with Anders, the royal guard sent a messenger to the king and cleared a path all the way through town from the gate straight to the castle door. Some of the big, burly soldiers even visibly cried as the queen and crown prince passed them.

Word spread through Arentia City like the spring flood through Neceda, and the streets filled with citizens anxious to witness Rhiannon’s triumphal return. By the time we reached the steps that led up to the king’s great hall, the cheering had grown so loud it blocked out all other sound, like storm waves crashing on a beach.

Phil, Wentrobe and a dozen castle guards waited at the top of the stairs as our horses stopped at the bottom. The doors to the great hall stood open behind them, and I saw pages frantically lighting the chandeliers. Phil wore his crown and royal cape, and as I dismounted and helped Rhiannon to the ground, he swept down to meet her. I took Lola’s reins and pulled her aside so nothing impeded this reunion. But when Phil at last stood before her, neither of them made any move. They faced each other in grim silence.

The cheers gradually faded as it dawned on the crowd that their king had imprisoned an innocent woman, who now stood ragged and filthy before him with the proof of her innocence squirming in her arms. Her feet were planted wide in a fighting stance, and I was near enough to see the fury blazing in her eyes.

Anders stood nearby, his hand casually on his sword hilt. We exchanged a guarded, uncertain look. Like everyone else, we wondered what Phil would do.

The king removed his crown and handed it to Anders. He draped his cape around Rhiannon’s shoulders. Formally, he knelt before her.

A gasp went through the crowd; the king of Arentia fell to his knees for no one.

Then Phil lowered himself all the way to the ground and publicly kissed his wife’s dirty feet.

I swear my hair blew back from the approving scream that erupted from the crowd. Phil stood and wrapped his family in a tight embrace. Our eyes met over the top of Rhiannon’s head and I saw the depths of his gratitude.