Copyright J.B. Norman
“Captain Ratsumies,” Tancred says as the leader of the Four Horsemen of Castle Ansangaar eyes him appraisingly. “I was wondering if I could have a moment of Princess Tenebella’s time in private?”
“And what is the nature of this inquiry?” the Captain asks. “And why exactly must it be inquired privately. For, you see, as the captain of m’lady’s personal guard, were some presumptuous, frilly-sleeved upstart to cause harm to m’lady’s person or outrage her respectability in other way way, I would be honour-bound to exact a terrible vengeance.”
He touches the hilt of his sword.
“And, as it happens, I happen to be quite expert in novel ways of separating a man from his various appendages, up to and including his skin.”
“Wait,” Tancred says, eyeing the frilled cuffs of his shirt. “What’s wrong with my sleeves?”
He clears his throat.
“I can assure you on my honour that I have nothing but the utmost of noble intentions in regard to Princess Tenebella,” he continues. “In fact, I have a question to ask her about one of your hello Horsemen. And, frankly, it would be bemusing for any number of reasons to ask my question within earshot of the Horsemen.”
Captan Ratsumies sighs and rolls his eyes. “Powers, what’s Ralph down now?”
“Oh, I assure you, Captain,” Tancred says. “It’s nothing like that.”
“Very well,” the Captain declares with a nod. “I shall allow you the privilege of stepping into m’lady’s presence.”
Tancred takes a step forward.
“However,” Captain Ratsumies adds, holding up his hand to stop his. “Be aware that I reserve the right to chop your head off if m’lady feels in anyway threatened or dishonoured.”
“R-right,” Tancred mutters.
As Tancred steps into the room, Tenebella glances up from the ancient tome she’s been reading.
“I know you,” she mutters.
“Ah, yes,” Tancred says, with a bow. “Tancred Gildas Mallory Astolfo Ambrosius Winnifred Perceval Galahad Cervantes Orlando von Ivanhoe-Hauteburg, at you service. We met when you worked with the Lyte Brigade to sort out that… unpleasantness with King Guthrum’s ghost.”
“Yes, of course,” Tenebella mutters. “And you come once again, seeking my counsel.”
“Well,” Tancred admits. “Not so much counsel, as a question about your guard Gwaedbran.”
“Yes,” Tenebella declares pre-emptively. “My dear Gwaedbran is single. She enjoys knitting, chamomile tea, and long rides along the beach astride her battle boar.”
Tancred bashfully coughs into his elbow.
“Well, yes,” he stammers. “That is the nature of my inquiry. Allow me a minute, if I may, to recover from the fact that you’ve apparently read my mind.”
“I know all,” Tenebella declares.
Then, she breaks out into a smile.
“That was a joke. I am, however, quite attentive. It was not difficult to notice how you were constantly staring at her.”
She nods.
“Very well,” she declares. “I wish nothing but the best for my dear Gwaedbran. I shall offer you my assistance.”
“Thank you, Princess Tenebella, but that’s hardly — What are you doing?”
Tenebella reaches for little bell beside her and rings it.
“Gwaedbran,” she calls. “I have need of your presence. It seems you have a gentleman caller.”
“If you’ll excuse me,” Tancred mutters, blushing deeply and backing towards the door. “I do believe I’ll take Captain Ratsumies up on his offer to chop my head off…”
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