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34.1: LANDLUBBERS (part 1)

In which Rupert gets salty.

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"And now," announced Sir Faltar, "I give you Urchester!" He flung out his hand and narrowly missed swatting Juggalug out of the air.

Harriet gasped. She seemed to have been doing a lot of that recently, but she couldn't help it—Urchester was truly gasp-worthy. Never mind Barthane, never mind Pinwick, this was the kind of place she had always pictured while reading her books (and never mind what Rupert said about them). Bathed in the late afternoon sunlight, the city's white stone walls glowed a soft amber. Soldiers stood regally on guard atop the walls' crenellated heights, while from the city's towers orange-and-blue pennants fluttered theatrically in the breeze. Within the walls, slanted rooftops of red slate made a picturesque jumble down the hillside, punctuated by clocktowers, spires, and domes. Lower down, the city gave way to red-brick merchant houses and warehouses, and beyond that rose the masts and sails of ships docked in the city's harbour. Further still stretched the sparkling expanse of the sea.

"It's beautiful," Harriet breathed as Sir Faltar toed his steed forward. "Don't you think, Rupert?"

"Hm," said Rupert. He sounded a little disgruntled, though Harriet couldn't think why. Sir Faltar had been nothing but gracious about the extra addition to their party, as had his steed, who had been wonderfully patient given that there were now three persons seated on her back. Harriet was back in her seat in front of Sir Faltar, while Rupert had been squeezed in at the rear. Sure, there had been a few false starts with Rupert sliding off the horse's rump and onto the road, but overall Harriet thought they should be grateful Sir Faltar was still helping them at all. Besides, surely a few bruises would be a welcome reminder to Rupert that he had a body again.

(Rupert, as my readers might have guessed, did not share Harriet's gratitude. He had spent the last six hours clinging onto the knight's belt while gripping desperately with his knees to avoid being unseated again. And those falls had, if anything, made him faintly nostalgic for the days he had spent made of fluff rather than bones.)

As they approached the city gates, two liveried sentries stood aside for the knight and, behind them, another blew a trilling welcome on a bugle.

"Why thank you, my good men." Sir Faltar nodded back to them.

Harriet was impressed. "Do they do that for everyone?"

"Only for knights, fair lady."

Harriet coloured. "Oh. Of course."

('Only for knights, fair lady,' Rupert mimed behind Sir Faltar's back.)

"Now tell me," Sir Faltar said, "whence are we to look for your mother, Miss White? Did you have lodgings arranged?"

"Oh." Harriet was abruptly reminded of the story she'd told. "I, um... We were due to stay at—"

"Right here is fine," Rupert interrupted. "We can find her ourselves."

Sir Faltar slowed his horse. "Are you certain? I would much rather accompany you. Though Urchester is a fair city, it is not safe for a lady—especially one as fair as yourself—to be abroad alone."

Harriet coloured for a different reason this time.

"She won't be alone." Rupert sounded more than a little put out. "She'll be with me. And we'll manage quite well enough, thank you." There was a commotion at the rear end of the horse, followed by an 'oof'. Harriet realised it was Rupert dismounting. He appeared in her eyeline, brushing down his waistcoat. "We'll be fine," he said again, eyeing Harriet. "Won't we?"