See Chapter One for Disclaimers.

LEFT OF CENTER

Chapter Three

The first dim fingers of a pastel dawn had barely touched the horizon when a tattered beggar slipped out over the city's western gate. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have taken the chance of being seen by one of the more alert sentries. This time he had no choice, however. The Questors were leaving later in the day, and he had to be well ahead of them. There was too much hanging on this Quest for him to miss his mark at this stage of the game. He'd been waiting for far too long.

Only a stroke of good fortune had placed him in the dining hall when the King had announced the quest. It had given him two days to prepare, but it hadn't been nearly enough. Not with the Princess following them. Briefly, he wondered if the King knew what his young heir was up to. Somehow, he doubted it. He'd only overheard her plans by lurking outside her bedchamber. King Glaramon was far too ethical to do that.

It wasn't so much the Princess that worried him anyway, although she was a formidable foe. It was her lover that he was losing sleep over. The earnest little Feyl was a potentially insurmountable problem. He could smell the raw power in her. It was almost visible in its intensity, rolling off of her in suffocating waves. She was very much like her ancestor had been that one.

There was little use in dwelling on it now. He'd just have to deal with things as they happened. Nothing he could do at the moment would be of any use. Muttering to himself, Morro hurried down the road to the west. In spite of the rapidly lightening sky, no one saw him go.

Dari barely had time to choke down a slab of still-warm bread and a hunk of cheese before Del hauled her out of the kitchens. She went reluctantly, eyeing the fresh fruit on the counter with undisguised longing.

"C'mon! We've got to get going! We've got to move out ahead of Williard!" The Feyl woman's inhuman eyes glittered with undisguised impatience. "Why are you always so blasted slow?"

It was a familiar complaint, one Dari had heard all too often. It was becoming just a little bit tiresome. Could she help it if Del was always in a hurry? Looking down at the top of her irritable companion's head, Dari couldn't help but smile indulgently.

Despite her current exasperation with the little scribe, Dariellen adored Del. Right now, with her raven hair tightly braided and clad head to toe in russet leather, Del looked every inch the no-nonsense mountaineer. It was a dazzling contrast to her usual air of bemused distraction.

"Why the rush?" Dari asked mildly.

Golden eyes met green in a frustrated glare. "You know why Dari. It's the only way that that fool won't realize we're there. Besides, maybe it'll help us shake your more ardent fans."

As if to emphasize her point, a gleaming dagger sailed out of a nearby corridor and clattered into the wall several inches from Dari's head. Grimacing, the princess merely nodded at Del and continued down the hall. Even she had to admit that perpetually foiling their insultingly pathetic attempts was getting really old.

Larindel Feyl looked cautiously through the stable doors. There was nobody there. It was perfect for their purposes, so of course it angered Dari immediately. The stable boy was supposed to be with the horses all night, and yet the stable was empty. It took some doing to convince her they couldn't hunt him down and beat the tar out of him. Finally, she managed to get through to her and calm her down. Sometimes her lover's fiery temper was a real nuisance.

Once she was satisfied that Dari wasn't going to go haring off after the hapless stable hand, Del walked toward the back stall softly clicking her tongue. A soft whickering was the only answer as Wraith poked her narrow head out of her open stall. They'd tried putting a door on the stall numerous times, but the mare wouldn't tolerate it. She'd reduced more than one door to kindling before they'd quit trying. She'd never once wandered away or caused any problem after that.

The little buckskin was happy to see her, rubbing her shoulder with a bony cheek, looking impatiently for the bit of sweetcake she knew Del had brought her. It took only a few moments to saddle her and go looking for Dariellen. Still munching on her treat, Wraith followed contentedly at her heels.

Dari wasn't faring nearly as well. Specter was standing with his ears laid back and pawing the ground in front of him. He had backed his rump right into the corner of the stall, and refused to move despite the warrior's coaxing. The big grey gelding was at least as well trained as Wraith, but he hated being saddled. Unaccountably, he appeared to be particularly reluctant this morning. Sighing, Del realized she'd have to intervene if they were going to get out of there with any degree of speed. Dari was going to be extremely pissed.

Just as she was about to speak, she felt the unmistakable caress of velvety horse lips against her neck. Wraith had gotten her name from her ability to move without a sound. It allowed her to sneak up on people from behind, startling them. It was one of the buckskin's favorite tricks. Turning to pat the little horse affectionately, she whispered "How about it, girl? You want to talk to him or should I?"

To her amazement, Wraith bumped her out of the way with her nose and snorted at the big grey, stomping one foot for emphasis. Even more astoundingly, Specter instantly stopped pawing the ground. His ears swiveled toward her as she snorted yet again. Blowing air between his lips, making a sound that surely signified disgust, he walked forward to be saddled. This was definitely a new wrinkle.

Del was too dumbfounded to pay much attention as Dari saddled him. Something odd was definitely going on. Wraith had most definitely answered her request. That had never happened before. It left her with a very disquieting feeling. Still dwelling on the bizarre exhibition, she mounted up mechanically, and rode out behind Dari. They were on their way, and it was still barely past first light. They should be well ahead of Williard.

Much to Greanne's dismay, it had taken nearly two days to make ready for the trip. Two days that her family had spent beseeching her not to go. First, all seven of her older brothers had come; then her parents and two younger sisters. One by one, their pleas and threats had fallen on deaf ears. Even so, they had only stopped browbeating her when she mentioned the vision she had had of Williard's impending demise. No one balked the will of the Goddess. She had a sneaky habit of getting even when it was least expected.

As if the family drama weren't enough, Williard had complained and whined bitterly at every delay. His dictatorial pomposity had left Greanne scrambling to smooth a multitude of ruffled feathers in his wake. Even so, last night they had finished with their preparations. It was none too soon either. Even her patience with Will's petulance was wearing dangerously thin. In any case, today they were finally leaving.

At least they would be if Williard could ever decide what to wear, Greanne thought wryly. He had donned and discarded fully two dozen outfits since first light, and he showed no sign of being satisfied yet. Admittedly, watching him strip and dress had held a certain entertainment value at first. He was very easy on the eyes, after all. After a couple of hours of it though, even that small enjoyment had faded to a memory. Now, she just wished he'd hurry up so they could go.

It wasn't like she'd had any problems selecting her own attire. Choosing the tight black trousers, soft linen shirt, and a simple scarlet tunic that allowed her some comfort had been child's play. The only fly in the pudding was the mail shirt that the King's Seneschal had insisted a squire must wear. It was heavy and hot, shortening her already over-taxed patience considerably. At least the soft leather boots they had managed to find her were comfortable.

Too bad fashion decisions didn't come as quickly to the handsome smith. At last, Greanne could stand it no longer. She would play to his overweening ego if that's what it took to get him to make up his mind. One way or another, she was getting the Quest underway. There wasn't a damn thing wrong with the black leathers he was wearing at the moment, nor with the cape he was trying over it. There hadn't been a problem with any of them. Enough was enough.

Taking a deep breath, Greanne schooled herself to sound suitably awestruck. "Ooh! That one's exceptional Will! That bold red cape will look ever so elegant trailing behind you as we ride out the gate. We'll even match!" Smiling winningly, she clapped her hands delightedly. Conning seven older brothers had taught her very well. "We will be ever so striking on our white horses!"

Predictably, Williard struck a pose. "Do you really think so? I thought perhaps it was too plain." He turned before a sheet of burnished metal, looking at his reflection this way and that. "Perhaps simplicity is the answer after all." Greanne had to bite her tongue to keep from cheering out loud at the slow smile of self-satisfaction that crossed his face. He'd be mortally offended if he realized she'd manipulated him so surely.

After a seemingly interminable wait, he patted his blond locks fussily into place and turned toward the door. One look was all it took to see how fine he thought himself. As usual. Oh well, at least he was in a reasonably jovial frame of mind. He was completely intolerable when he sulked.

Gesturing boldly, he exclaimed "Destiny ho!" Without waiting for a reaction, he boldly threw open the doors and strode purposefully down the street. At least it would have appeared purposeful, if he hadn't stumbled on the threshold and nearly fallen. Shaking her head, Greanne followed him.

The little clearing was just the way Morro remembered it. Even though it was just a few minutes ride from the edge of the woods, it was heavily treed around the edges. A jumble of broken rocks pushed up through the earth like fractured bones, partially blocking the road that ran through. It was the perfect place to stage his little 'surprise'. It had better be. Getting here well ahead of the smith had been an arduous run at his age, and the princess and her lover had already passed him an hour or so ago.

Smiling grimly, the old beggar placed his fingers between his teeth and whistled three shrill notes. Immediately, a group of manlike shadow-figures coalesced from nothingness to stand before him. It was crude magic at best, but he had no time for the niceties if he was going to be ready. Besides, there was no one there to impress.

They rode through the gate to the sweet golden sound of trumpets. Williard was certain no hero had ever had a grander send off. All the pomp and flourish had been his for the asking. The crowd had practically swooned at his feet; they were so taken with his bold appearance. At last, he was on his path to greatness. A simple quest and everything he dreamed of would be his. He could taste his victory as surely as if it were already his.

Beaming with pride, he motioned his faithful squire to precede him down the western road.

Greanne was thoroughly miserable. Perspiration burned like acid as it trickled between her breasts. Williard had fussed and primped until it was nearly midday. As a result, the summer sun beat down on their heads relentlessly while the King held them motionless before castle. The obligatory inspirational speech droned on and on.

Sitting in the heat like that had emphasized the discomfort of the mail, making it seem to grow heavier by the second. To make matters worse, Williard seemed oblivious to any discomfort, grinning like a madman while even some of the most determined spectators fainted from the sweltering heat.

The only saving grace of the whole ordeal was that the crown princess was markedly absent. Greanne was at least spared the indignity of having her rival witness how she was simmering in her own stinging sweat. She held tightly to the thought that Williard would at least be forced to see how little the Princess cared, now that she hadn't even bothered to see him off. It was the only thing that kept her from bolting for the nearest patch of shade.

Finally the lengthy ceremonies were over and they were on the road. She felt her spirits rise a notch as they left the city behind them. At last, they were away from everyone and on their own. Maybe she could even use the time alone with Williard to her advantage. Just maybe. Smiling slightly, she led off down the road.

It had been a beautifully cool morning when Del and Dari set out. The air was fresh and clean, redolent with the scent of wildflowers. The steady hum of insects played an interesting counterpoint to the melody of birdsong as they had ridden leisurely along the western road. It had been a soothing balm after the weird incident in the stable.

She and Dari had passed the time in idyllic silence for a couple of hours. It was the kind of comfortable quietude that they had always enjoyed together. There hadn't even been the slightest sign of the usual ineffectual assassins to mar the peace. The only other person they had seen had been a rather decrepit looking beggar, and they'd left him behind ages ago.

Now, the sun had clawed its way higher up the sky, and the heat of the day had begun to show its teeth. As they first rode under the canopy of the forest, she turned to Dari. "Where do you want to wait for them?"

"Hadn't actually given it much thought." was the laconic reply. "Seems to me there's a nice little clearing about an hour's ride from here. It's far enough off the road for us to stay out of sight, but we should still be able to hear them. Would that work?"

Del sighed heavily. Typical half thought out Dari planning. "You're absolutely certain we won't miss them?"

Dariellen drew herself up to her full height and pretended regal offense. "I just said so didn't I? Do you dare question your future Queen?"

Del laughed at the posturing, holding both hands up as if to fend her off. "Oh, never. Not me. I was just checking. Do you think we'll have to wait long?"

"Not if that fool blacksmith has his way. I'm sure he was eager to be gone at the crack of dawn, the way he's been champing at the bit the last two days. Besides, I'm sure we can find a way to amuse ourselves." The warrior waggled her elegantly arched eyebrows suggestively.

"True enough. We'd better get ourselves settled then. Lead on, oh future sovereign."

Laughing, Dari urged her horse into a trot. Specter snorted in protest, but obeyed nonetheless.

Grinning from ear to ear, Del followed suit. She'd always liked Dari in this mood. At least this quest promised to be fun.

(c) M.C. Sak 2000

Back *** To be continued