Free Too Many Princes by Deby Fredericks Page B

commander of the palace guard and Pikarus's immediate superior. He was the only soldier present who didn't wear armor. Instead, he wore a full length robe, dark gray, with Tanixan styled shoulders. A highly ornamented sword was belted over it. Tarther had come to Crutham as Queen Alustra's liegeman, and made no secret that his loyalty was to her and her son, rather than to Crutham. Ignoring Brastigan and Lottres, Tarther nodded to Pikarus with a military jerk.
    “ You have your orders, ” he grated out. “ Fulfill them well, and your service will be rewarded. ”
    Pikarus saluted. “ Aye, Captain. ”
    “ Take good care of my brothers, Sergeant, ” Therula added.
    “ I will, your highness. ” Pikarus's voice gave no hint of his feelings now.
    “ And you, ” Therula's eyes strayed to Lottres, and then Brastigan. “ Guard each other well. ”
    Brastigan rolled his eyes and opened his mouth for some scornful reply, but Oskar must have realized people weren't looking at him, for he began to expound again.
    “ Great is the glory of Crutham! ” he declared. “ Great is the honor of her sons. Go forth, my good brothers, to seek your destiny. We shall remember you daily, and our every wish shall be for your speedy and safe return. ”
    Not to be outdone, Brastigan then cried, “ Come, my comrades! Mount your steeds! ”
    With a sweep, Brastigan turned his back on Oskar and Therula. He strode toward the two white chargers. Lottres hurried after. With a leap, Brastigan was in the saddle. He whipped out his sword and flourished its bright length over his head.
    Brastigan cried, “ The hour is at hand! Farewell, my noble brother! My sister, farewell! ”
    Therula did her best not to laugh at his outrageous showing off. Oskar wouldn't like it, she knew. Then, suddenly, it was very easy not to laugh. Pikarus delivered a smart salute, taking in Oskar, Tarther and Therula at once. Then he, too, went to take his place in line.
    All about Therula, there was a flurry of last kisses and murmured farewells. Some of the women were weeping now, the pregnant one especially. Therula concentrated on maintaining a facade of royal grace, even as she felt her heart tear in two.
    Therula and Pikarus had kept their feelings quiet, not out of shame but to protect him from the envy of others. However, they hadn't made the mistake of trying to hide it from her parents. Unferth made no secret, either, that he didn't want to see Therula leave, and Alustra, for all her pride, was still a woman. Therula knew she grieved that her older daughters had married so far away. This gave Therula and Pikarus a chance, however slight.
    Alustra herself had pointed out that a political alliance could be internal as well as external, and Pikarus's family, in Gerfalkan, had proven their loyalty to Crutham many times over. If Pikarus did well on this mission, Therula was sure her father would sanction their marriage.
    Even that left too many questions. Therula didn't believe the quest would be as simple as it sounded, and Pikarus was going to be right in the middle of it. Therula could only hope the fates would be kind and bring her beloved back soon.
    * * *
    Brastigan held Victory aloft until his shoulder started to throb, waiting for Lottres and the others to mount up. A casual glance through the thinning mist showed no one outside the immediate circle of onlookers. Brastigan hadn't expected Unferth to attend, but it would have been good to see Habrok or some of their other brothers.
    There was someone else he hadn't seen yet today—or something. Brastigan stood in the stirrups, frowning over Oskar's head. Where was the falcon? His restless gaze searched the castle roofs, but there wasn't a feather to be seen.
    Once Lottres and most of the soldiers were up, Brastigan flourished Victory once again. “ Now we shall ride, my valiant men! We shall never return until our deed is accomplished. Forward! ”
    Therula waved to them, smiling and yet serious. Tarther