Read Online A True Princess by Diane Zahler - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Diane Zahler
Tags: Ages 8 & Up
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listened again. The hoofbeats were closer, and we could hear the baying of hounds. Nearer and nearer, louder and louder the hoofbeats rang, and now sounded a horn so deep and loud that it seemed to rattle the trees and shake the very ground we stood upon.
Swiftly the nisse turned and ran until he found a copse of trees standing close together, and we followed him. He urged us into the center of the thicket. “Sit, cover your ears and eyes, and do not look, no matter what,” he warned us. We crouched together and pulled our cloaks over our eyes.
“But what is it?” I whispered before I put my hands over my ears.
“It is Odin’s Hunt, of course,” the nisse replied shortly. “Now be quiet—and do not look!”
I fought the overpowering urge to look. I do not know whether it was the magic of the Hunt that tugged at me, or whether it was simply being told we could not look that made me long to uncover my eyes. As the Hunt came ever closer, the sound of the horn called to me, even through my hands pressed hard against my ears. Join us! it seemed to sing, and the hounds bayed, Join us! Join us! as the riders thundered past. I squeezed my eyes shut and huddled against Karina as the ground beneath us shook. On and on it went, and I tried to guess how many riders, how many horses and hounds made up the Hunt. Dozens, scores, a hundred?
At last the sounds faded into the distance, and we dared to uncover our ears and push back our hoods. I opened my eyes to see the nisse sitting cross-legged beside us, puffing on his long-stemmed pipe.
“Odin’s Hunt,” I said with apprehension, remembering what we had heard from the lords we had met at the inn. “Does this mean we are going to die?”
“You didn’t look, did you?” the nisse asked. We shook our heads. “Then you’ll live, most likely. But there will be a change.”
I remembered the blue lord’s words— ah, then everything was changed —and the terrible sadness in his voice. “What kind of change?” I asked uneasily.
“Oh, stop your chattering,” the nisse snapped, his moment of patience over. He tapped out his pipe and rose. “Come along. We’re almost there.”
Almost there! The words galvanized us, and we jumped up as well, eager to find the end of Bitra Forest. I looked around as we left the thicket and saw that there were no hoofprints, no disturbance in the dirt, no sign at all that Odin’s Hunt had passed by.
We followed the nisse, and as we did the trees gradually began to thin. At first it was barely noticeable, but then the air became a little brighter, a little fresher. I saw a shaft of sunlight fall to the ground and we moved faster, pushing through underbrush. Finally, we saw an end to it. The trees simply stopped. Beyond them stretched a green field sprinkled with flowers, and far in the distance were snow-tipped peaks: the Hamarr Mountains that I had heard marked the far edge of the North Kingdoms.
We stood at the edge of the wood, oddly reluctant to move from the trees and onto the field. After having been so long sheltered under the giant evergreens, we felt we would be unprotected, too visible, without them. As we paused, unwilling to start across the field, the nisse bowed extravagantly and tipped his red cap to us. Then he turned and walked back into the forest. We stared after him in consternation.
“Wait!” I called at last. “Where are you going?”
The nisse turned back, rolling his eyes at the question. “Home,” he replied curtly.
“But . . . where do we go next?” Karina pleaded.
“That depends. Where do you want to go?”
“To the palace of Dalir,” I replied.
The nisse pointed straight ahead, across the field. “That way,” he said. “It’s in Gilsa Town.”
“Well,” Karina said, “we are very grateful to you for your aid. Are you sure you won’t go on with us?”
“Now, why would I do that?” the nisse snapped. “You’re safely out of the forest, and I’m needed at the farm. Who’s to
Swiftly the nisse turned and ran until he found a copse of trees standing close together, and we followed him. He urged us into the center of the thicket. “Sit, cover your ears and eyes, and do not look, no matter what,” he warned us. We crouched together and pulled our cloaks over our eyes.
“But what is it?” I whispered before I put my hands over my ears.
“It is Odin’s Hunt, of course,” the nisse replied shortly. “Now be quiet—and do not look!”
I fought the overpowering urge to look. I do not know whether it was the magic of the Hunt that tugged at me, or whether it was simply being told we could not look that made me long to uncover my eyes. As the Hunt came ever closer, the sound of the horn called to me, even through my hands pressed hard against my ears. Join us! it seemed to sing, and the hounds bayed, Join us! Join us! as the riders thundered past. I squeezed my eyes shut and huddled against Karina as the ground beneath us shook. On and on it went, and I tried to guess how many riders, how many horses and hounds made up the Hunt. Dozens, scores, a hundred?
At last the sounds faded into the distance, and we dared to uncover our ears and push back our hoods. I opened my eyes to see the nisse sitting cross-legged beside us, puffing on his long-stemmed pipe.
“Odin’s Hunt,” I said with apprehension, remembering what we had heard from the lords we had met at the inn. “Does this mean we are going to die?”
“You didn’t look, did you?” the nisse asked. We shook our heads. “Then you’ll live, most likely. But there will be a change.”
I remembered the blue lord’s words— ah, then everything was changed —and the terrible sadness in his voice. “What kind of change?” I asked uneasily.
“Oh, stop your chattering,” the nisse snapped, his moment of patience over. He tapped out his pipe and rose. “Come along. We’re almost there.”
Almost there! The words galvanized us, and we jumped up as well, eager to find the end of Bitra Forest. I looked around as we left the thicket and saw that there were no hoofprints, no disturbance in the dirt, no sign at all that Odin’s Hunt had passed by.
We followed the nisse, and as we did the trees gradually began to thin. At first it was barely noticeable, but then the air became a little brighter, a little fresher. I saw a shaft of sunlight fall to the ground and we moved faster, pushing through underbrush. Finally, we saw an end to it. The trees simply stopped. Beyond them stretched a green field sprinkled with flowers, and far in the distance were snow-tipped peaks: the Hamarr Mountains that I had heard marked the far edge of the North Kingdoms.
We stood at the edge of the wood, oddly reluctant to move from the trees and onto the field. After having been so long sheltered under the giant evergreens, we felt we would be unprotected, too visible, without them. As we paused, unwilling to start across the field, the nisse bowed extravagantly and tipped his red cap to us. Then he turned and walked back into the forest. We stared after him in consternation.
“Wait!” I called at last. “Where are you going?”
The nisse turned back, rolling his eyes at the question. “Home,” he replied curtly.
“But . . . where do we go next?” Karina pleaded.
“That depends. Where do you want to go?”
“To the palace of Dalir,” I replied.
The nisse pointed straight ahead, across the field. “That way,” he said. “It’s in Gilsa Town.”
“Well,” Karina said, “we are very grateful to you for your aid. Are you sure you won’t go on with us?”
“Now, why would I do that?” the nisse snapped. “You’re safely out of the forest, and I’m needed at the farm. Who’s to
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