to the queen’s marriage yourself, even though you did tell Paul a woman like her deserves her happiness. I would have thought you’d love it: after else, who else could plan the wedding but you?”
“Surely, as I told you the other night, in the case of a widow-” the chaplain began, but I ignored him.
“Well,” Maria began, confused now and not wanting to meet my eyes, “I did hope to reassure the boy. And normally I
The chaplain cleared his throat meaningfully.
“But in the last few weeks I have come to think about it differently,” Maria continued resolutely. “The chaplain has made it clear to me that, at a certain age, only a
“Are you going to join the Nunnery of Yurt, then, my lady?” I asked in mock surprise.
“Of course not!” she replied in real surprise. “I’ve never married-at least not
I moved in rapidly with my real question. “Aren’t you worried that if Vincent
Her brow crinkled in distress and her blue eyes widened. “When I mentioned that- When I repeated what Vincent had told us- I hope you realize, Wizard, I never meant you!”
“Yes, yes, I realize that now,” I said in reassurance. No question then that the prince of Caelrhon was behind this oblique attack on wizardry, and not the priests as the school had thought. Regretfully, I gave up my suspicions of the chaplain. I would have to telephone the school and also have a long chat with Vincent; my dislike for him now felt entirely justified.
But would Zahlfast have been so insistent that priests were seeking to destroy wizardry only on the basis of some foolish statements made by the younger son of the king of Caelrhon?
I looked up to see someone riding toward us. It was Paul. “Back so soon?” I asked.
His expression was radiant, almost as though he had had a religious vision. The stallion snorted and tossed his head as Paul reined in and dismounted.
“I’m almost frightened of him,” he said. “I’ve never seen a horse this good. Walk with me; I want to cool him down.”
I nodded to the Lady Maria and the chaplain; I wasn’t sure Paul even realized they were there. Maria, recovering quickly from her distress, said to the chaplain, “Don’t tell me you put the chess pieces away already. We still have time for another game before lunch.”
“He’s as fast as the wind,” said Paul, “probably faster. He jumps like a dream-and I really mean a dream, one of those where you feel yourself floating effortlessly through the air.”
I nodded, knowing what he meant. I still intermittently hoped, usually when half asleep, that flying could be like that instead of a lot of hard work.
“I know he’d be willing to run all day-look at him now, still ready to go. But he never fights the bit, takes commands almost before I give them. I can’t do any more now.”
We continued our circuit in silence for a moment. Paul was breathing much harder than the horse.
“Do you remember me asking about fairyland?” he said suddenly. “It was years ago. My nurse told me about a place where you could go and see the fairies, and I asked you how to get there.”
“And what did I say?”
“You gave me a very good answer. You said that there was indeed a land of wild magic thousands of miles away, but that if I wanted fairyland, the real fairyland where lights glitter, the trees are covered with gold and flowers, and dreams come true, I would have to find it here in Yurt.”
I couldn’t answer, being much too embarrassed that I had ever been that sententious.
“When I was young, of course,” Paul continued, “I took your advice literally. I kept on peeking out my window at night, hoping to see the fairy lights, and when I walked in the woods I went quietly so that I might surprise them. Then as I got older, I thought I understood what you really meant. But now Vincent gave me this stallion, and it’s as though I finally found fairyland after all. This horse is like something I looked for when I was six, that I’d long since realized was only a metaphor, but suddenly it’s here.”
I glanced sideways at his shining eyes, decided it would be completely inadequate to agree that this was indeed a fine stallion, and remained silent.
We walked on slowly for another minute, then Paul turned toward me, really looking at me for the first time this morning. “You know what I like about you, Wizard?” he said with a grin. “You’re the best person to talk to I’ve ever known.”
“I’m sorry you never had more boys your own age here,” I said. “Then you might have had more people to talk to.” If this stallion stepped in a rabbit hole and broke its leg, Paul might never recover.
“Oh, I’ve missed them sometimes,” said Paul. “But I know why it’s been like this. ‘Only a count’s or duke’s son is fit to be raised with a future king,’ as I’ve heard often enough. Neither of Yurt’s counts had sons old enough to start knighthood training with me, and the duchess only has daughters. I guess I could have gone to live at the royal court of a larger kingdom, but I never wanted to and Mother didn’t want me to go, especially after Father died. Besides, first I had my nurse to talk to, then my tutor, and all the time you!”
I felt depressed at this enormous responsibility I had apparently had without even realizing it. We finished circling the castle and returned to the chess players by the gate. The Lady Maria had already captured several of the chaplain’s pawns and both his bishops.
The stallion shook his head, ringing the bells on the bridle. Paul laughed suddenly. “He knows he’s a real horse, not just a vision, and he knows he can run a lot farther today!” I gave the prince a boost, and he scrambled up into the saddle and sat for a moment, silhouetted above me against the sky. “I’ll be back later!”
He touched his heels to the stallion’s flanks and was off, down the field and across the meadows, sailing effortlessly over the hedges until horse and rider disappeared into the distance.
V
I was waiting by the gates at the end of the afternoon when Vincent and the queen returned from hawking. Paul had finally come in an hour earlier, looking transformed, as though beyond happiness. It was a relief in a way to see that the engaged couple were merely extremely happy.
“You missed some good hunting,” said Vincent, swinging down from the castle gelding he had been riding, the game bag in his hand. “We’ll have geese for dinner tomorrow. You know,” he added to the queen with a smile, “I can’t even begin to tell you how much better it is to be here than at home.”
“How nice,” I said, not interested either in Vincent or in geese. “My lady,” to the queen, “I need to talk to you. Now. It’s about Paul.”
“Of course,” she said, naturally surprised. “Give me ten minutes.”
While I waited for her I wondered what I was actually going to tell her, since I wasn’t sure I trusted myself to speak coherently. I intended to have a long talk with Vincent tomorrow, so I need not bother her yet with his perverse views of wizardry. But I did feel a need to warn her that Paul had been bewitched by a horse, but there was also much more. What I really wanted to say was that she couldn’t marry Vincent under any circumstances but that I couldn’t explain why.
The queen came back out, still wearing her riding habit. “Can we go somewhere to speak privately?” I asked.
A vision of being invited to her personal chambers flashed through my mind, but instead she said, “I’ve been riding all day and feel a little stiff. Let’s go for a walk until dinner.”
She went first, holding the narrow train of her habit looped over one arm, the polished leather of her boots brushing through the sun-warmed grass. She sang softly as she walked, and our shadows stretched out long behind us. I had a new vision, of sinking into the grass with her in my arms, but while it was fairly easy to imagine myself kissing her, it was much harder to imagine her kissing me back.
She paused half a mile from the castle. Swallows swooped across the meadow, passing close to us as they
