Too Many Princes by Deby Fredericks Page A

had once told Brastigan that Sillets had invaded Urland because its attempts to conquer Crutham kept failing. The invasion of Urland had had a much more satisfactory result for Sillets, though it took ten years to finish. Since then the northern border had been quiet. Perhaps a bit too quiet, one might think.
    Logically, Hawkwing House must be somewhere along the Silletsian border. Wonderful. The talking falcon would fit right in with the dragons, griffins, and other fell beasts he heard rumor of. And he was supposed to lead a band of men into that? With a sketched map and a bird for a guide?
    True, no one had said he was in charge, but Pikarus would follow military order, and that meant he wouldn't issue commands to a royal prince. Brastigan was the elder of the two princes, not to mention Lottres's lack of field experience. That left it to him. He was beginning to think ten men might not be enough. The lofty peaks, and the dragons, formed a protective barrier, it was true, but who knew what might be lurking in those mountains—and beyond, in Sillets, where black magic was said to reign?
    In the quiet room, the rattle of the door knob sounded abnormally loud. Brastigan heard Lottres's sudden catch of breath. His heart was already thumping at the sound of a tread he hadn't heard for years and yet recognized instantly. By force of will, he kept his eyes focused on the flames crackling behind the fireplace grate.
    “ Father, ” Lottres said, surprised.
    “ Good evening, Father, ” Therula said tranquilly. “ I was wondering where you were. ”
    Brastigan bit his tongue to keep back harsh words. What did the old man want here? Wasn't it enough he was sending them off to nowhere?
    Unferth was saying, “ I meant to be here sooner. ” It wasn't his usual tone of voice, the public proclamation that commanded immediate obedience. Despite himself, Brastigan looked around to see Unferth bend and kiss the top of Therula’s head. His stomach clenched at the sight. “ I was wondering where you were? ” So this was another plot, and Therula had contrived to bring them here. Was Cliodora part of it, too?
    Therula must have guessed his thought. “ Don't look at me like that, ” she said coolly. Her needle flashed as she sewed.
    “ Fine, ” Brastigan said between his teeth.
    The old man was gazing at them with an expression Brastigan didn't recognize. Lottres stood up. Brastigan looked back at the fire, unable to believe the gall of the man. First banishing them, and now sneaking in to see them. He heard the rustle of fabric and slap of hands as Unferth embraced Lottres.
    It seemed the old man regarded Brastigan for a while before sighing. Then, to his infinite annoyance, the king came and sat down beside him.
    “ Well, lad. ” Unferth laid a broad hand on Brastigan's knee. “ You're taking this personally, aren't you? ”
    “ Shouldn't I? ” Brastigan wanted to knock the offending hand away, but he couldn't seem to move.
    “ No, of course not, ” Lottres answered. Brastigan glared at him. “ Affairs of state aren't personal. If Father believes we're the best suited for whatever the noble lady wants, then I will do my best. ”
    Unferth and Therula seemed to exchange a glance, and the king said, “ Well, son, it isn't quite like that, either. ”
    “ See? ” Brastigan growled with bitter triumph. “ It's all a scheme. I knew it. You just want to get rid of us. ” Unable to sit still any longer, he jumped up and began to prowl the room with fierce energy.
    “ Bras, ” Lottres protested. “ Stop it! ”
    And Therula chided, “ Brastigan, that tongue of yours will get you in real trouble one day. ”
    Unferth hadn't yet answered, and Brastigan saw that he was sitting still, eyes closed. Then his shoulders gave a jerk, and he made a noise that Brastigan had never heard before. It took a moment to recognize that the old man was laughing. Hearty guffaws shook his fat belly, his whiskers swayed, and he leaned back on