The Camelot Spell - Laura Anne Gilman [19]
They had spent exactly the same amount of time grooming the night before. In fact, the squire had asked Newt’s opinion on a gash on his horse’s foreleg while he was checking for stones in…oh. That was the game, was it?
Newt pulled the gelding to the side of the narrow path and dismounted. He looped the reins over one arm as he bent down on the far side, his back to the creek, as though oblivious to anything except his horse.
He froze at a quiet crunching sound coming from somewhere in the stand of oak trees behind them.
There it was again, louder without the sound of hooves to mask it. They were definitely being followed! He glanced up at the squire, wondering if Gerard had heard it.
Gerard moved his beast forward a few steps, as though impatient to be on his way. “Fool of a horse-boy,” he said, the sneer evident in his voice. “Catch up with me when you’re done. And mind the mule doesn’t go lame as well with your inept handling.”
And with that he kicked his horse into a trot and moved down the path, around a bend, and out of sight.
Muttering under his breath, Newt pushed against his gelding until it lifted its front right leg enough so that any observer would see him check for the alleged stone lodged in the hoof.
“Easy, boy. Easy. Let me just see what’s ailing you, hey?” He kept up the soothing patter, hoping that the beast would hear only the familiar words, and not the nerves underlying them. He strained his ears for the sound of their unknown companion, or maybe the sound of Gerard doubling back to—
“Hai!” Gerard’s shout was followed by a loud, high-pitched yelp of outrage. Newt dropped the horse’s leg and the reins as well, and dashed to the other side of the animal in time to see two figures tumbling down the hill from the tree line. The gelding snorted nervously, and Newt reached back to catch at his mane, patting him soothingly while he watched the two scrabbling in a tangle of legs and arms.
Finally Gerard got the upper hand, reaching up to grab at his opponent’s face, which was covered by a close-fitting hood.
The hood came away in his hand, revealing a long red braid attached to a familiar head.
“Ailis?” Gerard sounded like he had swallowed a frog.
The servant girl rolled away from the squire, his grasp weakened by shock. Sitting back on her heels, she glared at him.
“What—what are you doing here?” Newt asked in disbelief.
Gerard slapped at the cloth of his trousers, trying to get the dirt out of them, and glared sourly back at the girl. “That’s the obvious part. She was following us. The real question is, how fast can she go home?”
“I’m not going back. You need me.”
“We do not.” Gerard looked stubborn enough to be part mule.
“Yes you do! Neither of you knows the first thing about Merlin.”
“And you do?” Disbelief colored the squire’s voice.
“More than you!” Ailis clearly wanted to say more but bit it back.
Despite himself, Newt was curious. Most of the girls he knew were quiet mice, their faces down-turned, their attention focused on their tasks. But this girl glared back at the squire as if she were his equal. She had stood up to them back in the banquet hall. She was different. Why?
“Witless servant,” Gerard muttered.
“Fool of a squire,” she returned.
“Might as well let her stay,” Newt said, already tired of watching the two of them spat like cats. He had a feeling he was going to regret this. “I suspect she’ll only follow anyway. And I’m a lousy cook, besides.”
“So. What’s the plan? We do have a plan, don’t we?” Ailis said.
Newt looked up from the roasted pigeon he was eating, his expression alertly curious. “I’ve been wondering that as well,” he admitted. “Not that a mere servant like myself—ourselves”—he made a mocking gesture toward Ailis—“need to know such things, when a mighty knight-in-training has it all in order.” Two days in Gerard’s company, and Newt had already figured out how far he could push the squire without rousing the other boy’s true anger. Mocking merely irritated him.
“Oh, stuff it,” Gerard said rudely, biting into his own roasted squab. “This is good,” he