Children of Enchantment Read Free Page A

way they all are, even my Brand. Why do you suppose our high and mighty lady is so out of
     sorts? It’s been weeks since she’s had word from the King. Never you mind. Your prince will come home, and when he does, everything
     will be just fine.”
    “But, Jaboa—” Peregrine turned to face the older woman “—what if she sends me away like—“
    “Oh, child, don’t believe those tales.”
    “But it’s not a tale, Jaboa, you know it isn’t. She could send me away—me and my baby, both. What if she convinces the King
     to marry me off before Roderic comes home? Then we might never see—“
    “Don’t you think he’d come looking for you? And the baby? He’s none too fond of her. You know that as well as I.”
    “But he doesn’t know, you see. I wasn’t sure—before he left. So I didn’t tell him about the baby. And now—“
    Jaboa’s faded blue eyes were soft with sympathy, and Peregrine remembered that, throughout the years, the maintenance of Meriga’s
     fragile peace required Brand’s absence from Ahga far more often than his presence. “And now Roderic has other things to think
     about. But, really, you mustn’t fret. Brand will bring him home. I promise.” She gave Peregrine’s hand another gentle squeeze.
     “Now come along. It’s getting much too cold out here.”
    Peregrine met Jaboa’s eyes and was startled to see the merry expression.
    “Besides,” Jaboa said, leaning forward to whisper in Peregrine’s ear, even though no one was about, “you don’t want to miss
     the surprise we’ve brewed for my lady. Old Mag put—“
    Sudden shouts drowned out the secret. Peregrine looked up and frowned. In the outer ward, men were calling for grooms, for
     a doctor, and before she could move, a horse and rider burst through the opened gate which led into the outer ward, followed
     by at least half a dozen of the guards on duty.
    The rider slid off the horse and stumbled as his leather boots slipped in the snow. A groom dashed forward to catch the animal’s
     bridle. Blood-streaked foam flecked the horse’s mouth, as it shied and tried to rear, slipping and sliding on the snow-slick
     cobbles. With a curse, the man waved away the others who offered aid or escort, and Peregrine saw that he wore the uniform
     of the King’s Guard. The lower half of his face was obscured by a matted beard, and his hair was plastered against his skull.
     His cloak was torn and splattered with mud, and he looked as if he had been in the saddle for many days.
    He staggered toward them, ignoring the guards who called for the sergeant of the watch.
    “Lord Phineas,” the man cried, his face red and raw with windburn. Peregrine glanced at Jaboa. Was the man insane?
    “Take me—Lord Phineas—at once,” panted the soldier. “Take me, lady—must speak with him—“
    Peregrine’s heart seemed to stop in her chest. Was it Roderic? Was the messenger from him? She sprang to the door. “Come,
     soldier. I’ll take you there myself.”
    “But—” began Jaboa. One look from Peregrine stopped her protest. “I’ll—I’ll just let Gartred know a messenger’s come.”
    Peregrine caught at the soldier’s arm as he heaved himself up the shallow steps, breathing hard, snow frosting his brows and
     beard. “Please, just tell me, is it the Prince? Does he live?”
    The man paused, narrowing his eyes as if he’d not quite understood. “The Prince? I know nothing of the Prince, lady. It’s
     the King. King Abelard has disappeared.”

Chapter Two

    Janry, 75th Year in the Reign of the Ridenau Kings (2747 Muten Old Calendar)
    “L ost? My father is lost?” The parchment scroll fell to the floor unheeded as Roderic Ridenau, eighteen-year-old heir to the
     throne of Meriga, stared at the messenger in disbelief. An unruly shock of light brown hair, silky as a tassel of wheat, fell
     across his forehead, and he swiped it back automatically. “Phineas expects me to believe that the King has just