Free The Runaway Princess by Kate Coombs Page A

could only grit his teeth as the bandits disappeared down the slope with his beautiful gold.
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    Farther up the mountain, Bain watched with interest as a boy and a girl raced out of the cave, a baby dragon at their heels. Now they lunged for cover. “There was a dragon!” he said. “Or half a dragon.” Bain thought of catching up with them and taking the dragon, but he had more important matters to attend to. “Later,” he said amiably.
    Bain slipped into the cave. With his charcoal cloak and fog-colored britches, Prince Bain resembled the rocky walls just inside the cave. He hid in a deep alcove and readied his cloak. A moment later Vantor’s man thundered toward the mouth of the cave, looking rather singed. Prince Bain stepped out behind the man. In one swift move Bain wrapped the cloak about his head and arms. Horace struggled. “Do you want me to hit you with a rock?” the prince asked, pulling back on Horace’s elbows.
    Vantor’s servant stopped fighting, his body tense.
    â€œThat’s better,” Bain told him. He tied the man’s hands and feet and settled Horace just outside the cave. “Don’t go rolling off the mountain,” the prince advised. Horace’s curse was muffled by the cloak. Bain scoured
about to find a fallen tree branch and lit it with a flint from his pocket. He went into the cave with his makeshift torch, coming across Horace’s fallen lantern at the mouth of a side passage. “You see?” Bain said softly. “Good fortune.” He lit the lantern and walked deeper into the cave.

8
    â€œWELL?” THE KING PUT HIS FEET UP ON AN EMBROIDERED footstool and settled back to listen.
    â€œI’ve spoken to the remaining princes,” the prime minister told him.
    â€œâ€˜Remaining’? What’s happened?”
    Garald cleared his throat. “It appears the witch cast a spell on a number of our candidates.”
    â€œHmmph,” the king said. “Frogs, I imagine?”
    The prime minister nodded. “Most of the others spent all day searching for the dragon’s cave.”
    â€œNone of them found it?” the king asked incredulously.
    â€œNot that I’ve heard.”
    â€œGo on.”
    â€œPrince Vantor hasn’t returned yet. Perhaps he’s found the dragon and is on his way here even now—he seemed a likely sort,” Garald said hopefully.

    â€œPerhaps the dragon found him .” The king chortled. “And?”
    â€œThat’s about all. Those twin princes were last seen in a tavern. Bought everybody drinks, wanting to talk about the dragon.”
    â€œThere was a prince from the north, the one with all the fur,” the king mused.
    â€œFrog.”
    â€œAnd the short one with the red hair?”
    â€œFrog.”
    â€œWhat about the dark-haired lad? Bain, isn’t it?”
    Garald shook his head. “He’s still off somewhere.”
    The king creaked forward. “I want results, Garald. You do know that.”
    â€œYes, Your Majesty. Just give them a few more days!”
    â€œNot them. You. I’ll give you a few more days to sort out this mess.” The king pursed his lips, making his beard bristle. “I don’t think the neighbors will like hearing that their sons have been changed into amphibians.”
    â€œNo, Your Majesty,” Garald said faintly.
    King Stromgard went to the window and forced himself to look across the meadow at the tower, where candlelight illuminated the high window. “Do you suppose she’s all right up there?”
    â€œIt should be a pleasant interlude for her,” Garald reassured his monarch. “She gets the very same food that you and the queen eat. She also has plenty of books, embroidery, and a fine view of the castle.”

    â€œLet’s get this thing over with,” the king said, turning back to the prime minister.
    â€œYes, Sire. Will you excuse