Howl of the Wolf (Heirs to the Throne Book 1) (24 page)

Dr. Alexander escaped his cluttered lab and walked through the garden to Krystal’s chair.  Maggie sat knitting next to her charge. 

Krystal beamed.  “Isn’t it wonderful, Alex!  Spring makes me feel so alive.  I can’t wait to enjoy the festival with music and merriment.”

“You can’t expect to attend!”

“But I feel wonderful!  I’ve carried the baby more than eight months, well past the danger of a miscarriage.  You can’t expect me to pine away in the tower while a festival beckons from below.”

“You can’t take risks!”  He sputtered, wringing his hands like a dish wife.

“Risks?  Everyone hovers around me, acting like I’m a delicate flower.  I can’t stand it!”  Seeing his back stiffen, Krystal realized a temper tantrum gained her no points.  Modulating her voice into a soothing tone, she said, “Alex, I’m fine.  If I feel the slightest tremor, you can whisk me back into that dank hall.  This festival celebrates the beginning of life, and it’s on my own doorstep, not halfway across the kingdom.”

Dr. Alexander frowned.  “I don’t like it!  You can stress yourself with too much activity.”

“Stress?  Sitting in the tower feeling self-pity and anger stresses me more than watching from a comfortable lounge.  Please Alex, I promise I’ll be good.”

Maggie stifled a giggle and the doctor arched an eyebrow.  “Since Maggie evidently agrees with you, I hold her personally responsible for your well-being!  You must see that Krystal remains immobile, avoids excitement, and alert me at any sign of discomfort.”

“Oh Maggie!”  Krystal clapped her hands like a little girl.  “He agreed!  Isn’t it wonderful?”  Krystal’s cheeks turned pink and her eyes sparkled.

Maggie clasped Krystal’s cold hand.  She said, “It’s all very exciting, but we should go inside.” 

Krystal frowned.  “I’d rather stay outside in this glorious sun.”

Maggie shrugged.  “I just thought you’d like to decide what to wear.” 

Krystal sighed and agreed to be dragged indoors. 

******

Trenton kept pace alongside a slow, heavily laden cart.  Sparks held her head low, stealing mouthfuls of grass, as Trenton talked to the young farmer driving the cart. 

“Spring festival at the castle is a good time for folks, ever so good this year,” the young man said.

Trenton eyed the wagon full of produce.  “Good crop?”

“Aye, a good harvest reaps rewards, especially without the Lord confiscating the best of the crop.  King Donovan has the right idea!  A man works harder when he profits by his own labor.” 

“See you at the festival, good journey.”  Trenton grinned, urging Sparks to pick up the pace as he examined the happy faces of other travelers.  Entering the festival grounds, it gave Trenton pleasure to find booths filled with fine goods for sale.  

When Donovan forced the Lords to levy taxes at a flat ten percent, his enemies sneered and predicted calamity.  The resulting abundance proved him right, allowing Lords to prosper by increased productivity.  How could the Lords complain when their income actually increased at the lower tax rate?  Given time, they would learn, given time. 

Trenton knew Donovan studied the theory of free enterprise from Earth’s history.  It worked beautifully until government demanded high taxes and massive regulations, killing incentive.  Learning from the mistakes of others, Donovan endorsed a free market on Drako.

Carrying a pack almost empty of pelts, Trenton fingered a pouch filled with coins.  He knew the value of the product he offered and got his price.

Trenton spotted a tailor’s emblem and stopped at a stall filled with fine garments.  The tailor eyed Trenton’s remaining pelts, fingering the soft fur.  The craftsman listened to Trenton, nodded, gathered the furs, and retreated to a cutting table in back.

The bathhouse was Trenton’s next stop.  Sparks might not mind a ripe scent, but he knew Maggie would take one sniff and screw up her face in disgust.  He allowed the barber to trim his full beard into a rakish style, admiring the result.  Maggie disliked rough texture against her soft cheek, but she understood his need for a disguise.  After all, Sir Hembly’s best men passed him through their lines without a second glance.

Trenton felt nervous.  He straightened his jersey, and viewed his image in the glass.  “Don’t know what she ever saw in you,” he muttered. 
Could I convince her to leave the castle?  I must try to find a baby to adopt.  

Sparks galloped when she recognized castle turrets ahead.  Trenton let her go.  He missed Maggie, needed to see her as much as Sparks needed food.  The horse charged toward the stables, her short legs churning as turf flew.  Entering the king’s tower, the guard barred Trenton’s path until he offered the current password.  The guard peered curiously into his face and said, “Upon my word!  Is it Trenton under all that hair?” 

Trenton chuckled, clasping his old mate’s hand.  “Good disguise, eh?”

“Yeah!  Most don’t look past the surface to spy out an identity.”

Trenton climbed to the upper suites, following the musical sound of laughter.  Maggie sauntered comically around the room in a large dress made of golden satin.  The bulge at her belly made Trenton’s eyes widen.

“It’s Trenton!  Look at his face, Maggie.”  Krystal burst into uncontrollable giggles, pointing at the pillow that plopped on the floor at Maggie’s feet.  Maggie squealed and ran to Trenton.  Tripping on the train of her dress, she tumbled into Trenton’s outstretched arms.  The long sleeves hung three inches beyond her hands, looking like flippers, and stuffing popped out of the bodice. 

Trenton roared as they both landed in a heap on the floor.

“What’s this?”  Donovan heard the commotion and came running.  He looked perplexed to find wriggling bodies entwined in silk and Krystal trying to control her giggles.

Krystal said, “It was a choice scene, Donovan.  Maggie helped me choose a dress by modeling the ensemble fitted with pillows, and Trenton popped in just at the right moment.  One thing led to another.”  Laughter erupted again, Krystal’s cheeks flushed with merriment.

Donovan offered Trenton a hand.  “Trust you to add a comical note to the endeavor.”  He turned to Maggie.  “Should we hire Trenton as our court jester?”  Donovan stared at Trenton.  “What’s that on your face, man?”

“I thought I’d attract a pretty wench, sporting the latest style of face hair.”  Trenton cast a sidelong glance at Maggie.  She giggled—not the reaction he hoped for.  “It’s a disguise!  Those dimwitted soldiers the Lords hire can’t see beyond the hair.”

Donovan nodded.  “Get rid of it.  If anyone sees you looking like a woolly bear in my company, you won’t likely fool them when a disguise is important.”

Trenton rubbed his face.  “Hadn’t thought of that.”

“That’s why I’m king and you’re…I don’t quite know what you are…perhaps Maggie can clear up the mystery.”  He grinned at Maggie, moving his fingers in a scissors gesture.  “See to his face, will you?” 

“Aye, aye, sir!”  Maggie saluted and stepped out of Krystal’s dress.  “Come with me, my hairy one.”  She grabbed Trenton’s hand and dragged him into her room.               

“Blast you, Donovan!”  Trenton grumbled.

“What?”  Maggie’s dark eyes flashed with reproach.

“Does he always need to be right?  It took me weeks to grow this thing.”

“It makes you look like an old crag, and you know how I love the feel of a nice smooth chin.”  She spoke in a husky voice.  “Shall we denude you?”

“What do you have in mind, little girl?” 

Tilting her chin up, she said, “I’m big enough to handle the likes of you!” 

Trenton lifted her off the ground and planted a kiss on her ripe lips.  His weathered hands felt awkward stroking her through velvet.  She seemed so small, standing a full foot shorter than Trenton, like a porcelain doll.  He felt like a hulking brute.

“Don’t look at me like that.”  Her husky voice sounded strange coming from such a delicate looking creature.

“How am I looking at you, lass?”

“Like you’re afraid to touch me.  By now you should know I won’t break.” 

Trenton’s white teeth flashed behind a broad grin.  “I marvel at my tremendous luck.  You’re so beautiful, little one.  How could a mountain man like me ever capture a beauty like you?"

“Who said he did?”

“Oh?”

“Perhaps the girl caught the trapper.”  Her lips curled in an enticing smile as her small hand stroked his leather jersey.  “Why didn’t they keep zippers on this planet?  It would be so much easier for a lady to seduce her man.” She pushed him onto the mattress. 

“Do you want it to be easy to seduce a man?”

“I married you didn’t I?”  Her kiss lingered on his lips and he knew she’d missed him. 

“What a lucky bloke I am!”  Trenton said.

“You won’t get lucky until we get rid of this!”  Maggie tugged on his beard and moved away from the bed.  “Now where did I stash my scissors?”

******

Jarrack arrived outside the castle walls, followed by his men.  They had abandoned traditional robes to avoid attention, but Jarrack stiffened as Bryant walked across the compound in their direction.  Bryant paused to greet friends in a nearby booth, and Jarrack’s group disappeared behind a wagon loaded with trade goods.

He absorbed every detail of Donovan’s strength and sent men to snoop around the festival grounds.  Donovan was a fool!  He allowed easy access to his stronghold, unaware that opposition to his changes grew stronger.  Disgruntled Lords eagerly joined Jarrack’s conspiracy.  He tallied his strength, knowing he’d soon have sufficient power to crush Donovan.  “Stay in your cozy castle, secure in an idyllic life,” he muttered.  “The ax will fall before you see it hanging over your neck.

******

The next morning looked bright and cheerful.  Dr. Alexander scrutinized every detail before he allowed Krystal to sit in the royal pavilion, decorated with choice cuttings of exotic plants.  Krystal could enjoy the festivities without moving from her lounge.  A gentle breeze carried enticing smells of delicate perfumes and mouth-watering dishes, but Alex stationed servants to fetch anything the queen might want.

People stopped to greet their beautiful queen.  Guild masters presented her with gifts, examples of their best wares, and she felt overwhelmed by their generosity.  Her honest pleasure endeared her to each craftsman.

Before pregnancy bound Krystal to Havenshire, she spurned the cloistered life of the average aristocrat.  The royal couple often road through the countryside and stopped to buy local crafts in person.  A visit from the queen improved a merchant’s business for weeks, as people thronged his shop to hear about her visit.  Krystal’s lovely face and musical voice captured hearts.  Young boys fell in love and young girls tried to copy her appearance.  People grieved over the queen’s sorrow when she lost a baby, and optimism soared at the prospect of this impending birth.

Dr. Alexander watched his patient with misgivings.  He monitored Krystal nervously.  His skill with natural medicines improved over the past three years, but childbirth presented too many variables.  What should he expect next?

Krystal laughed when an acrobat pretended to trip but bounced up to give her a flower pulled from thin air.  She clapped enthusiastically and the doctor relaxed.  Nothing seemed amiss and the festivities might be more beneficial than any natural concoction.  He wandered through booths but kept a small piece of his attention on her canopy.

******

Donovan bargained with a horse trainer to buy a string of prized animals.  Pleased with the purchase, he summoned Andrew.  The boy stood a foot taller than last year, could almost look Donovan straight in the eye. 

“Make a note to rotate the stock in the mountain pastures.  These beasts are in top form, I believe the high country has much to offer.”

Andrew grinned.  “Haven’t I been telling you that?”

Donovan clapped Andrew on the shoulder.  “So you have son but adults take persuasion.  I admit you were right.  See to it for me will you?”

“With pleasure, sire.” 

Andrew worked magic with his horses and someday Donovan would make him head groomsman.  He watched Andrew examine the new horses.  “These are the best of the lot.” 

“I’m glad you approve.”  The boy blushed and Donovan added, “I plan to improve my breeding program with good stock for the new men.”

“New men?”

“Hush!  I don’t want it nosed about.  Some Lords have become too chummy with Jarrack, and I smell a plot.  I’m initiating plans of my own, but keep the knowledge between us.”

“I won’t breathe a word, sire.”  Andrew’s voice betrayed awe and respect. 

Donovan disliked adulation, but it felt good to be a hero in the boy’s eyes.  “Let’s start back.  Take the horses to my paddocks and get them settled.  I’ll stop by later.”  He sauntered into the royal pavilion, filled with happiness.  

Krystal looked too pale.  With concern in his voice, Donovan announced, “I must ask everyone to excuse us while we dine.  Please accept our invitation to return after the queen has rested.”  No one objected and word quickly spread to leave the royal couple to themselves.