Chapter 7

“I’m fairly sure when Master Lasser assigned my quest, this is not what he had in mind.” Prince Orin surveyed the chaotic castle courtyard with dismay. Every able bodied courtier in Galadin had volunteered to assist Orin in his quest, and his mother had said yes to all of them.
“There’s only twelve of them,” she replied as she oversaw the packing of Orin’s horse, Mary.
“And each of those twelve is bringing along a squire and servant. That’s thirty six, not counting the four brothers that have tagged along. And don’t forget the cook. He has a staff of five!”
“You want to have food to eat, don’t you?”
“What were my cooking lessons for then?”
“You can’t be expected to cook for all of them, though, when you’re questing.”
“I’d rather quest by myself.”
“Out of the question.”
“How about only six lordlings then?”
“Six? So how am I to tell six expectant fathers that my son is being selfish and only wants to take six and leave the rest behind?”
Prince Orin surveyed the forty six men who were busy rolling and stuffing things into various saddle bags. A pair of noblemen debated whether to bring their lutes or their flutes. Their squires were passing around a parchment of betting statistics. A fight had broken out near the drawbridge where a squire had tried to secret his belongings onto the chef’s wagon when his lord told him the saddle bags were full. It was, overall, a very merry mood.
“Impossible,” Orin said, defeated. He looked at his mother. “But must I take Mary.”
“She’s a good strong horse with a steady temperament. You don’t need anything flashy.” Her gaze wandered over to Sir Bontin whose horse, Demon, was covered in shiny bits of armor. He had already bitten three people this morning.
“Now Orin,” Deseda began in a voice that signaled a lecture to Orin. “You’re going to be extremely careful. You can’t be a king, if you’re a dead prince.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“What do you do if you see a dragon?”
“Kill it before it kills me?”
“That was not the answer I was looking for.”
“Run away and hide?”
“Exactly. Let them get eaten.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“I do love you, you know.”
Prince Orin overcame his embarrassment and hugged his mom in full view of the court. No one was really paying attention. He stood back and held him mom at arm’s length. She might have been considered pretty as a baker’s wife, but as a king she was simply plain and worn. The lines of worry had burrowed themselves into her face, and black hair was peppered with gray.
“Nothing’s going to happen to me. What could happen with such an entourage?”
Brother Valdin crossed over to them. He and Mouth were half of the brothers that were tagging along. The other two were Gap, a healer, and Melbun, a newly minted scribe fresh from Ladona Monastery intent on capturing the entire adventure for posterity.
“I believe we should be leaving shortly. Orin will of course lead the way,” Valdin said. “Which way are we going?” The smug look on Valdin’s face was enough to tell Orin where his money lay on the squire’s betting sheets. Brother Valdin wanted him to fall flat on his face and not get up again.
“We’re going...” Prince Orin extended his arm and spun around until his stomach flopped. He stopped and stared as his arm pointed northeast. “That way.”
“They are welcome to join me on my quest.” Orin mounted Mary in a smooth practiced hop.
Blowing a goodbye kiss to his mother, Orin nudged Mary into a trot and headed west. He didn’t turn once to see if his entourage followed.
“They’d just better learn how to keep up.”