Free Wood Nymph and the Cranky Saint- Wizard of Yurt - 2 by C. Dale Brittain, Brittain Page B

waiting to hear
    from the bishop. He had hoped that an answer to his message of the preceding day would be here when we reached the royal castle yesterday, but no pigeons had arrived. The cathedral had never put in a telephone, probably afraid that to do so would be a concession to the forces of institutionalized wizardry, and Joachim could do nothing but mutter about pigeons being lost or caught by hawks—al of which was quite possible—before going up to bed early.
    Perhaps the most cheerful person in the castle was Gwen, the assistant cook. She and I had been friends since I first arrived in Yurt, when she was stil a kitchen maid. Not only was she glad the royal family was safe, she was pleased that they were at least temporarily out of the way. She ana her husband, who played in the castle’s brass choir, were the only people in Yurt who did not consider the baby prince the most important person in the kingdom. That honor they gave to their own baby daughter.

    “I think she’s going to start crawling soon,” Gwen said to me. Her daughter was lying on a rug on the flagstone floor of the great hal. “Look at her kicking!” The little girl, four months younger than the royal prince, was indeed kicking with great enthusiasm and pride of accomplishment.
    I sat down on the floor next to her and patted her on her diapered bottom. She gave me a wide, toothless smile. “I nke baby girls,” I said to Gwen. “She’s so ful of energy; are you sure she isn’t going to get into trouble once she starts moving around?”
    Little Gwennie grabbed the hem of my trouser leg and tried to pul it toward her mouth. Gwen disengaged her. “There is a lot she could crawl into in the kitchens—they’re much more dangerous than anything the little prince is likely to get into,” she added pointedly.
    We were interrupted at this point by Dominic coming toward us. I frequently had the uncomfortable feeling that, despite bis silence and apparent slowness, he saw and recognized every one of my inadequacies—and probably a lot of inadequacies I didn’t even have. But he was also capable of surprising me by speaking to me on occasion as though he had no doubts of my competence.
    “It sounds as if the count and the duchess are having a great deal of trouble in their neighborhood these days,” he said as I scrambled to my feet, “what with treat horned rabbits and a troublesome nymph.” I ad, of course, given him a sketch of our trip as soon as we returned. From the stony look I had received then, I was rather surprised now much of it he’d understood, even though he didn’t now mention the people trying to restrict access to the holy relics. “Do you think it would help if I rode over to that side of the kingdom tomorrow with a few knights?”
    “Not for several days, anyway,” I said. “Brute force won’t be any good against the nymph. If any of our knights are good trackers, however, I m sure the duchess would appreciate their help tracking the horned rabbits.”
    Dominic considered, as though wondering again why his uncle the king had even taken me on in the first place. “And are you doing anything about these strange events?”
    “I’m checking what my books of magic have to say about such things,” I said with dignity. Since I had been meaning to get to my books very soon, I didn’t feel this was too great a prevarication.
    Unexpectedly, Dominic’s frown turned into a smile. “It was good to hear the royal family is wel,” he said, “especialy the little prince.” I agreed wholeheartedly, although somewhat surprised, since Joachim had felt Dominic might be jealous.
    “His hair is so light blond it’s almost white,” continued Dominic with a sentimental smile. “They tel me mine was just the same color when I was his age. Tel me, Wizard,” with a sudden sharp look, “have you ever thought of getting married?”
    “Me? Of course not,’ I said, startled by this sudden change of subject. “Wizards never