The Vixen Trials

The Prince and the Picnic

"No girl of sense drinks so much
blood on a first date."

Dakkoul

It felt mean to shake Malek awake, but it had to be done. Dakkoul helped him get up and dressed. All the while his stomach curled with foreboding. Too much rested on this picnic with the Prince. What would happen to Keilah if she failed to charm him and get into the Vixen Trials? Could the Prince even be trusted?

The anxiety made him gruff with Malek. "I know you're weak right now, too weak for this, but you've got to find the strength to walk to the stables and get on your horse. I can't help you if people are watching." The last thing he wanted was to be forced to follow Lord Rustavan's instructions about discipling a sick slave.

Malek's legs were wobbling even as his chin rose. "I can do it." He took one step and sunk to the ground.

Dakkoul gritted his teeth, grabbed his arm and pulled him out into the hallway. Only Pipsqueak was there on his knees cleaning the floor. He looked up, his usual grin absent.

"Help Malek to his horse," Dakkoul snapped and Pipsqueak sprang to his feet.

Soon they were all gathered at the gate. Lady Keilah in a red cloak. Jalen rode just behind her. Lady Silsa was beside her with an elaborate hairdo on a horse bedecked with ribbons. Her three attendants rode on matching white horses. Right at the back was Alyssia on a pony and Malek leaning on the neck of his horse. At least this time he wouldn't be galloping ahead. Surrounding them all was a contingent of soldiers.

An unsmiling Lord Rustavan waved them off. The soldiers led the way, clearing a path for them through the market, through the gates and out into the countryside fresh with morning dew, the colors vivid and lovely.

Lady Silsa turned out to be a very confident, but sometimes sloppy horsewoman who dropped her reins, got her foot out of the stirrups but still liked the occasional mad gallop. Mostly though she pulled her horse close to Dakkoul's, batting her eyelids in his direction while she talked of the most inconsequential things.

It was all Dakkoul could do to keep up his end of the conversation. He could not escape the nagging fear that this picnic was a mistake. The Prince had as good as promised to kill him and had openly shown his revulsion for his owners. Why was he taking Keilah to him now, innocent Keilah who full of excitement and anticipation with no idea of the terrible risk she was now undertaking? Would the Prince even be there when they arrived or would it just be soldiers waiting to dispatch them all?

"Yes I do like the way you've weaved that ribbon through your braid," he made himself say to Silsa. Keilah rode up with a smile.

"How interested you are in hair fashions, Hattavah! Do you admire mine too? Alyssia has improved it, don't you think?"

He stared at Keilah's simple top knot uncertainly. A joke, surely. He'd done a better job.

"It looks good," he lied.

"No it doesn't," Silsa shrieked. "I told her to do something more elaborate like my beaded net."

"I wanted the Prince to see me as I am, a simple village girl," Keilah said firmly.

Something within him lightened at those words.

They rode up to the woods. Being around trees usually relaxed him, but not today. Dakkoul watched the occasional tiny red bird darting between the dark green leaves and wished he could turn back.