Summers at Castle Auburn Read Free Page A

“He—My father was a wonderful rider!” he exclaimed. “My father could outrace you any day of the week! He could ride any horse in the stable! Yes, and the wild stallions they brought in from Tregonia, my father could tame those in a day—”
    Kent came to his feet, giving my uncle a level look. “Jaxon was only teasing you,” Kent said, putting an arm briefly around his cousin’s shoulders. Bryan shook him off. “Everyone knows what a gifted rider your father was. Also a great hunter. And a swordsman. The horse was lunatic. Everyone said so.”
    â€œYes, and the head groom shot it that very afternoon,” Bryan said. “It deserved to die.”
    I hadn’t known this story. I felt sorry for the horse, but sorrier for Bryan, who still looked both angry and forlorn. I stepped closer to him, trying to think of some way to soothe him. “Are you much like your father, Bryan?” I asked. “You ride and hunt so well yourself. Do you resemble him? What was he like?”
    He turned to me eagerly, pushing back that deep red hair. “Yes, everyone says so, I look exactly as he did when he was my age. My fencing instructor also taught my father, and he says I hold my sword just the way my father did. He says I make the same mistakes, too—but they are not many!”
    Again, I caught that exchange of glances between Kent and my uncle, which annoyed me to no end. Did they have no conceptionof how hard it must be to be the young prince, trying to live up to the shadow of a dashing king, and watched on all sides for any sign of weakness or inability? I thought he should be encouraged, not baited. So as we mounted our horses again, I rode alongside Bryan for the next few hours, asking him questions and listening with unfeigned pleasure to his answers. I told myself that Elisandra would not mind; she had heard all his stories before, and she would want him to be happy on this ride. I knew that I had achieved the pinnacle of happiness myself.
    We took a longer break at noontime, though this rest passed without incident. By this time, we were within sight of the forest, the great dark cluster of woods that spread from the river in every direction.
    â€œSlower going once we’re in the forest,” Jaxon observed, bringing us all to a halt. “We’ll ride as far as we can, though we might get knocked about by a few low branches. Eventually we’ll have to walk.”
    â€œHow far in the forest before we reach the river?” Kent wanted to know.
    â€œThe rest of the day, I imagine, and we might not reach it by nightfall,” Jaxon said. “Best not to, in any case. You don’t want to be camping by the Faelyn River more than one night. Not in these woods.”
    â€œWhy not?” Bryan demanded.
    Jaxon gave him a sidelong look. “Aliora,” he said. “They’d steal you as soon as we would steal them.”
    Bryan sat up straighter on his horse, laying his hand upon his sword hilt. “I’m not afraid of a few scrawny aliora,” he said. “If one came to me in the middle of the night—”
    â€œShe wouldn’t try to win you away with brute force,” Jaxon said mildly. “She’d whisper in your ear—crazy things, lovely things—she’d paint you a picture of Alora so beautiful you would weep to be taken there. How many times have I woken in the middle of the night to see my hunting companions leaping to their feet, their faces covered with tears, and watched them go running across the Faelyn River no matter how I called to stop them? Charm and seductionare the weapons the aliora use on men. Your sword doesn’t stand a chance against them.”
    We were all mesmerized by now. “Have you ever had an aliora whisper in your ear, Uncle Jaxon?” I asked.
    He laughed. “Often and often. But I know how to protect myself. And as for letting one of them touch me—ah,