There were no—human—servants in Rakastava. King Conall himself raised the lid of a serving dish and offered Dennis a slice of savory meatloaf. It was the first meat Dennis had eaten since leaving home. It smelled delicious, and the taste was wonderful and intriguing—
But he wasn’t quite sure that it was meat after all.
No matter. It was good, and so were the vegetables on the platter beside it… Though these vegetables weren’t anything he’d eaten before, either, and they had a curious uniformity instead of the layering of garden truck Dennis had eaten at home.
“I wonder, Prince Dennis,” said Conall with a casualness that could only be deliberate. “There’s no question of you being a burden on us here, of course. But if it would make you more comfortable during your stay at Rakastava—”
Aria made a muffled sound and looked down at her plate, though she didn’t lift the forkful of loaf to her lips.
“Yes, go ahead,” Dennis asked, feeling his body tense.
He’d belted the sword on over his fine new clothing, less because of expected need than because he was afraid it might vanish into the floor the way his tattered garments had if he left it. Now he was glad of its awkward weight.
“I was thinking,” Conall continued. “A bold lad like you with a fine sword, well—”
Gannon was chuckling behind the king’s leonine head.
“You see, we keep a herd of cows here in Rakastava. Not for our own use, but for trade with the, ah, local people.”
“The lizardmen?” asked Dennis. “I hadn’t expected that. There aren’t any trails leading to Rakastava—quite unusual, you know.”
He grimaced internally, knowing that he was emphasizing his status as the only expert on the jungle in the room—in order to keep from open embarrassment at his lack of sophistication in the ways of this wonderful place.
“That is,” he amended for his conscience’ sake, “no trails by the way I came.”
“Well, we do some trading,” Conall continued, looking more worried than Dennis’ mild comment seemed to call for. “Well. In any case, we have a herd that we like to pasture outside the walls. But, ah, none of us here are really comfortable in the—”
Conall’s face grew pale as he remembered something beyond what was before him in the room. “None of us feel comfortable outside Rakastava, that is. If you think you’d be able to do this, Prince Dennis, lead the herd to its pastures…?”
“Of course,” the youth said. “For that matter, I can milk them, if you’d like me to. We had some goats in Emath, though cows only rarely for the problem of fodder.”
There was a catch, but no one in Rakastava was going to tell him what it was. He’d learn for himself.
Between Aria’s warmth close to his right elbow, and Gannon smirking from beyond the king, there was no way Dennis was going to permit himself to sound frightened.
“Fine, then, that’s settled,” said Conall. The older man seemed relaxed for the first time since Dennis had seen him. “First thing in the morning, then. Perhaps my daughter will point you on the way?” He leaned forward to look at Aria.
“I will not,” said the princess toward her plate of food.
“I’ll be the boy’s guide, then,” said Gannon. “First thing in the morning, princeling.”
“I’ll be ready,” said Dennis.
For anything, his mind added and his eyes promised.
CHAPTER 29
The wall opened into a door. Dawnlight beyond looked like a curtain in contrast to the pure radiance from the walls of the cow byre. The cows began to lurch forward in the one-at-a-time, dominoes-falling, manner of their kind.
“Well, there’s your trail,” Gannon said. His voice sounded thick, because he was holding a handkerchief over his nose and mouth. “Just follow it. I’m getting out of this stinking place.”
The large, low room in which the cows were stabled was as clean as every other part of Rakastava, though the odor of the animals permeated the air. Dennis blinked at the King’s Champion, trying to decide whether the man was serious or just flaunting his “greater culture.”
Gannon certainly didn’t look well; but the dinner of the night before was turning into a morose drinking party when Dennis left it to sleep away the weariness of the jungle. Perhaps the smell of living things turned Gannon’s stomach, but the cloyingly sweet wine the champion slurped down might have more bearing on the way he felt now.