Mellors didn’t bother with answering the man. He just looked at me, eyes narrowed and said, “Who is this?”
“Our father sent him. We haven’t spoken to Dad for some time and he was concerned. He came to see how we were.”
“Ah yes, your father. Lord McKinnon or was it King Pendragon?” Mellors asked.
“McKinnon and you’d do well to keep a civil tongue in your head,” McQuade said.
“Really? And you and what army will make sure I do? If you’re a man of the house of McKinnon, then I expect you to act as such in the presence of the prince. You will be silent and servile, am I clear?” Mellors asked, his lips curled back, revealing his very sharp fangs. I held my breath as McQuade closed the gap between the both of them, staring straight into the yellow eyes of the wolf man, then smirking and moving away. “Quite an interesting choice of manservant your father chose to send,” Mellors said to me. “Keep him in line, or I will.”
“So, we need to get dressed in these?” Tess asked with a nervous smile, moving to take the pile of clothes gingerly from the wolf man’s grip, having to tug a little to get them out from between his claws. Mellors’ eyes finally dropped from watching McQuade walk away, letting the clothes fall from his grip.
“Fifteen minutes,” Mellors said, “or you’ll be leaving without breakfast.” He left the room with a slam of the door.
“Can you look after Gabe again?” I asked Natty.
“But, what if—?”
“I need someone who can care for him,” I said in a low murmur, “and someone who can protect him when I can’t. We’ll have McQuade and Flea. We should be fine.”
We weren’t fine. “Today we’re going to visit the great tomb of Lord Donaltson,” Prince Damon said as we came down to breakfast. “It’s one of the few nearly intact examples of Brigintinian architecture in the country. Quite remarkable.”
“Oh, that sounds lovely,” Tess said, real pleasure flushing her cheeks.
“Yes, it’s also the site of a particularly virulent nest of harpies. Disgusting beasts and beyond time for a cull. We will visit a historic site and do a spot of hunting. It will be a capital day.”
“Hunting?” I asked, feeling the food I’d been eating roil inside my belly.
“Yes, the lads brought in some of the new-fangled crossbows last night. Positively itching to try them!”
“We’re going to kill . . . harpies?” Tess asked, putting her spoon down into her bowl of cereal.
“Yes, and don’t feel sorry for the horrid beasts. They are putrid things. One scratch and you’ll be septic within days and we wouldn’t want that.” The prince’s eyes swept over us lazily, then down to the plate in front of him and back again. “You can leave your men here, wouldn’t want to bore them, standing around and watching.”
“I’ve a mind to give bow hunting a go myself,” Knox said from where he stood behind our chairs. “I’m a pretty good shot. Are we talking recurve or compound crossbows? I’ve got a sweet set-up at home, a custom-built rifle crossbow, accurate to eighty yards. Brings down white-tailed deer nice and clean. With your permission, of course, Your Highness.”
“Well, if you insist. . . .” Tess and I both nodded our heads vehemently. “Oh, very well. Mellors, ask the stable master to bring one of the carts around for the help,” the prince said with a flip of his hand.
“I need to stay with the ladies,” Knox insisted. “I was supposed to travel with them, but the naughty minxes took off on their own, they were so keen to make your acquaintance.”
“Well, then have the royal carriage brought around. Men, you’re with me,” the prince said, getting to his feet, the furry officers dropping their breakfasts and following hard on his heels as he exited the room.
“Crossbows are good,” Knox said, eyeing the open doorway, pitching his voice low. “I’d prefer some AKs or some C4, but it’s better than nothing. We've gotta cut the head off this rattlesnake. One headshot to His Highness there, and usually the operation falls apart.”
Or everyone else just gets really, really angry, I thought. “Are you sure about this? Natty and Gabe are going to be back here, vulnerable. We can’t afford to jeopardise them in any way.”
“I’ve stood up to bullies like this before. Half of the power they have over you is fear. You think they’re going to hurt you; you think they’re going to rape you, hurt your friends, so you can’t do anything to piss them off. This way, I take the risk, you can distance yourself from me if that’s what it takes.”
I had a bad feeling we would have to do just that. We rode in silence. The prince was wedged in beside us, refusing to go in the other carriage with his men, which left us facing Knox. The prince started the journey quite jauntily, discussing with enthusiasm his plans for the harpies but that died away in the face of our combined silence. I just stared at the slatted blinds that covered the windows, watching the light flicker through it as we travelled. “We’re here, finally,” the prince said as the vehicle drew to a halt. He shot me a quick glare, jerking his gaze to Tess. I straightened, plastering a smile on my face.
“C’mon, Tess,” I said, “you’ve always wanted to get your Katniss on and now’s your chance.”
“Yes, of course,” she said and took the prince’s hand as he helped her out.
The ruins were beautiful. Massive hewn blocks of stone that were covered in sweeping carvings, depicting animals and plants I’d never seen before. Tess and I moved towards them automatically, no more able to resist their allure than an insect could bright lights. “Oh, my . . .,” Tess said, tracing a finger down the side of one beast. He’d been carved like a combination of a stag and a tree, the branches a huge array growing from his head like a rack of horns. We were tiny by comparison, forced to crane our necks upwards to see the entire artwork.
“Look at this detail,” I said, running my hand along the bas-relief of its fetlock, the veins and sinews carved into the grey stone.
“God, it’s like he could step out from the carving and walk free. Is he a god, or some kind of ancient wildlife?”