Harbor (On the Wind #3)

33. Orestes

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

ORESTES

I n the end, there was no choice about when we went back to the castle. The snow was indeed disappearing, a fact that seemed to lift a weight off my shoulders with every hour, but it was still nearly to our knees when we had to return, because we were out of food. It turned out that when both an enormous horse and two people were eating only oats, they went fast.

Tybalt tried to get me up on the thing’s back, but frankly, Biscuit and I were more suspicious of each other than I was of the snow. Yes, my feet were cold, but the snowshoes Tybalt had produced worked well enough, and I would survive the trek. They were cumbersome, sure, but at least my feet weren’t inside the frozen slush.

Really, the horse didn’t want to carry someone as big as me any more than I wanted to be on horseback.

It was a slow plod, but it was mostly downhill, so not too strenuous for any of us. The wound in my side hurt, but it was healing well, and I’d had a few days of rest to start the process. I’d been through worse, by far. The horse didn’t seem to love the amount of snow, but she also didn’t seem to struggle to plod her way through it. Tybalt on her back was a tiny added weight that she barely even seemed to notice.

It was funny, when I thought of it that way. An oversized beast of burden who seemed to adore Tybalt entirely, leaning against him and nuzzling him immediately when he’d come into the stables. It seemed Tybalt attracted a specific type of creature.

Absentmindedly, I reached out to pat the beast’s neck. She looked over at me, perhaps for the first time not wary of me, and I couldn’t help a smile. We were siblings in a way, me and the horse.

Tybalt leaned forward. “Do you want to ride? She likes you.”

I shook my head. “I like her too.” Running my hand along Biscuit’s flank, I looked up at Tybalt. He wouldn’t take the comparison well, likely. He’d be like Brett, thinking I was denigrating myself if I suggested I felt as though the horse and I were the same, so I dismissed the notion. “I’m too big to be riding on anyone’s back, but she’s a very nice animal.”

Tybalt’s eyes narrowed, more in confusion than annoyance, but he didn’t disagree. I was very large, after all. It was impossible to deny.

The trip took hours, out of the pass and down the mountainside. Tybalt had made a point of returning and checking the brigand’s body for any sign of why he’d tried to kill him, but the only things the man had been carrying on him were a bag of gold and his weapons.

Tybalt had insisted we bring the gold back, since there was no reason to let it go to waste. I’d thought that if that were the case, perhaps we should also take the weapons, but I also had little use for either a dagger or a sword so short it was little more than a dagger itself. I had insisted Tybalt should be armed, but my clever prince had answered that by pulling a knife from his belt. It was a hardy, utilitarian thing that looked more useful for skinning game than the more gaudy pieces the Urial court used as accessories. He’d taken it from the lodge, already having considered the possibility of another attack and preparing for it.

How anyone thought him less than incredible was beyond me, but I supposed I was little more than an enormous beast of burden, and we weren’t known for our cleverness.

The sun was high overhead when we reached the castle, and immediately, my hackles raised. It was like something from an awful fairy story. The gates were unmanned, and the courtyard empty. For a moment, I was worried that the people inside had been spirited away in the night, but then a servant darted through the yard carrying a stack of linens.

When we came to the stables, things seemed to be going on as usual there. The stable master smiled wide at Tybalt. “Your Highness! We were worried about the two of you. You’ve never been away so long before.”

Tybalt sighed as he slid off Biscuit’s back. “We stayed out too late the first night and decided to stay at the old hunting lodge. Then it snowed, and we were good and stuck.”

The stable master nodded, understanding, then he glanced at me in confusion. Clearly, I had not left with the prince and he well knew it, but he didn’t seem inclined to ask how we had ended up together.

On the other hand... Tybalt hadn’t said a word about the assassination attempt.

I was getting used to the strange Urial-ish urge to keep everything close to the chest, but that seemed a little much, even for Urial. Shouldn’t the people know that someone was trying to kill their prince? But no, Tybalt just smiled at the man as he passed Biscuit’s reins to him. “I’m terribly sorry, you know usually I’d stay to brush her down and feed her, but it’s been a long week. Could you possibly take care of her for me?”

Biscuit, seeming to sense that his time with Tybalt was coming to an end for the day, turned and leaned her head against him.

The stable master smiled and nodded. “Of course, my prince. She’ll be disappointed, of course, but she’ll survive. We’ll give her an extra apple for you.”

Tybalt smiled bright, reaching up to rub the sides of the horse’s head, then kissing her on the nose.

Biscuit seemed satisfied with that, allowing the man to lead her off.

Yes, the horse and I had quite a lot in common. I only hoped I’d never be given an extra apple in place of Tybalt’s personal attention.

“Oh, Highness,” the stable man said, before turning toward the paddocks. “I suppose... congratulations?”

Tybalt didn’t even hesitate, just smiled back and nodded. “Thank you.”

We turned to talk into the castle, and I leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Congratulations for what?”

“Not a clue,” he answered instantly, still smiling. The expression was fixed, though, like a face drawn on a piece of fruit. There was nothing of genuine emotion in it.

Unfortunately, we found out what the congratulations were for just a moment later, when we entered the great hall, right into a wedding.