trilling call. Atop the creature's back, Svarezi quieted the beast with his riding crop.
"And what of my bride, my lord? What of my Mannicci bride?"
Courtiers stifled smiles behind gauntlets and poman-ders as they thought of the dreadful Ugo Svarezi falling in love. Prince Ricardo simply ordered himself more wine. "A marriage between your own house and the house of Mannicci is no longer at issue, Svarezi. The Sumbrians have too much confidence in their strength at arms to be bothered buying peace with a bride. Particularly to a man with such uncertain connections…"
Wrenching furiously at his reins, Svarezi sent his hip-pogriff clawing back to open ground. Without so much as a word, he raked spurs across the creature's hide and made the beast beat its way up into the sky.
Huge black wings spread their shadow across Colletro's nobility as Svarezi soared away.
From the back ranks of the Blade Captains, a furious youth brought his brass-colored horse prancing to the fore. Blade Captain Veltro's face had flushed red with fury under his scanty beard.
"My lord prince-I beg permission to fight him! Man to man-blood and honor!" Veltro half drew his sword. "He tasks us, my lord! He defies our honor, and he defies your name!"
Without turning to view the youthful cavalier, Prince Ricardo made a gentling motion with his hands.
"Peace. Peace. Do not let him goad you into giving him his pleasure."
The prince rested against the pommel of his war sad-dle and scanned the high horizon with his eyes.
"You must understand, my boy: There are certain crea-tures that only grow stronger as they feed on blood. Deny them their sustenance, and they must wither slowly away. But feed them what they want…"
The prince finally fixed the young nobleman with a quiet gaze.
"Feed them what they want, and they grow strong enough to hunt for more."
Veltro sat stiff upon his horse; beneath him, the animal tore at the rich turf with its hooves.
"And this-this animal. Will he not seek sustenance elsewhere, my liege?"
"Where?" Prince Ricardo smiled and opened out his hands to show the boy the open, empty world. "As long as we deny him, we have clipped his claws.
"Come, let us turn our attentions to more suitable mat-ters."
The valley's rich, cool afternoon promised a perfect chance to course for hares with the delegates from Sumbria. Turning their mounts toward the shadows of the hills, Colletro's leaders regained their peace of mind and filed quietly away.
High above, a piercing eagle shriek echoed out across the icy peaks. A small black speck of anger faded out against the clouds, and then was gone.
4
For Princess Miliana Mannicci, gaining access to the palace library was a process involving fiendish cunning, sly patience, and infinite subtlety.
Long days of practice were bearing fruit. Thus far, the girl had mastered (well, almost mastered) four whole spells. One of these seemed to allow her to store sounds inside a box; not a very useful skill, perhaps, but Miliana refused to be discouraged. For two whole hours late at night, she sat in her room and read aloud passages from Lady Zuggi's Primer of Basic Heraldry, including appendices on Charges, Countercharges, and Trends of Modern Times; a book so dull that the moths whirring about Miliana's candle seemed willing to hurtle themselves into the flame as their only means of escape. Finally reaching appendix three- just moments before she felt she'd suffer a lingering death from terminal boredom-the girl slammed shut her enchanted box and tied it shut with string. Locked inside was a monologue more powerful than a sleep spell, the per-fect weapon for the following day's campaign.
The next step required the nicest, most intricate manip-ulation. Miliana unpicked an old embroidery and restitched one heraldic banner in reverse-a change so subtle, so minor, and so utterly insignificant, that only a mindless pompous pedant would give the slightest care.
Miliana left the embroidery on the loom,
"And what of my bride, my lord? What of my Mannicci bride?"
Courtiers stifled smiles behind gauntlets and poman-ders as they thought of the dreadful Ugo Svarezi falling in love. Prince Ricardo simply ordered himself more wine. "A marriage between your own house and the house of Mannicci is no longer at issue, Svarezi. The Sumbrians have too much confidence in their strength at arms to be bothered buying peace with a bride. Particularly to a man with such uncertain connections…"
Wrenching furiously at his reins, Svarezi sent his hip-pogriff clawing back to open ground. Without so much as a word, he raked spurs across the creature's hide and made the beast beat its way up into the sky.
Huge black wings spread their shadow across Colletro's nobility as Svarezi soared away.
From the back ranks of the Blade Captains, a furious youth brought his brass-colored horse prancing to the fore. Blade Captain Veltro's face had flushed red with fury under his scanty beard.
"My lord prince-I beg permission to fight him! Man to man-blood and honor!" Veltro half drew his sword. "He tasks us, my lord! He defies our honor, and he defies your name!"
Without turning to view the youthful cavalier, Prince Ricardo made a gentling motion with his hands.
"Peace. Peace. Do not let him goad you into giving him his pleasure."
The prince rested against the pommel of his war sad-dle and scanned the high horizon with his eyes.
"You must understand, my boy: There are certain crea-tures that only grow stronger as they feed on blood. Deny them their sustenance, and they must wither slowly away. But feed them what they want…"
The prince finally fixed the young nobleman with a quiet gaze.
"Feed them what they want, and they grow strong enough to hunt for more."
Veltro sat stiff upon his horse; beneath him, the animal tore at the rich turf with its hooves.
"And this-this animal. Will he not seek sustenance elsewhere, my liege?"
"Where?" Prince Ricardo smiled and opened out his hands to show the boy the open, empty world. "As long as we deny him, we have clipped his claws.
"Come, let us turn our attentions to more suitable mat-ters."
The valley's rich, cool afternoon promised a perfect chance to course for hares with the delegates from Sumbria. Turning their mounts toward the shadows of the hills, Colletro's leaders regained their peace of mind and filed quietly away.
High above, a piercing eagle shriek echoed out across the icy peaks. A small black speck of anger faded out against the clouds, and then was gone.
4
For Princess Miliana Mannicci, gaining access to the palace library was a process involving fiendish cunning, sly patience, and infinite subtlety.
Long days of practice were bearing fruit. Thus far, the girl had mastered (well, almost mastered) four whole spells. One of these seemed to allow her to store sounds inside a box; not a very useful skill, perhaps, but Miliana refused to be discouraged. For two whole hours late at night, she sat in her room and read aloud passages from Lady Zuggi's Primer of Basic Heraldry, including appendices on Charges, Countercharges, and Trends of Modern Times; a book so dull that the moths whirring about Miliana's candle seemed willing to hurtle themselves into the flame as their only means of escape. Finally reaching appendix three- just moments before she felt she'd suffer a lingering death from terminal boredom-the girl slammed shut her enchanted box and tied it shut with string. Locked inside was a monologue more powerful than a sleep spell, the per-fect weapon for the following day's campaign.
The next step required the nicest, most intricate manip-ulation. Miliana unpicked an old embroidery and restitched one heraldic banner in reverse-a change so subtle, so minor, and so utterly insignificant, that only a mindless pompous pedant would give the slightest care.
Miliana left the embroidery on the loom,
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