But there was a more interesting game going on. Several women, young and not so young, stood, rather than sitting, by themselves. These ladies were dancing a very different sort of dance among clusters of men—young and not so young—who were competing for their attentions. Those who were not part of those clusters appeared to be very much engrossed in the little dramas being played out before them.

Kordas started when someone touched his elbow.

He turned to find himself looking into the eyes of the Prince who had sat across from him. “Pardon. Did I startle you, Valdemar?” the young man asked. The polite tone seemed genuine.

“A trifle, your Highness,” he replied. “I was taking in the view, and engrossed in the music. My little Duchy is too small to have such gatherings every night. And we are rather too backwater as well. Our days begin early and end early, and our entertainments are generally simpler.”

The Prince smiled thinly. “So it seems,” he said in neutral tones. “I was wondering; was that story you told about mounting all the Knights of the Realm on Valdemar Chargers a true one?”

Careful. “It’s family legend, Highness,” he said. “I can’t speak for how true it is. Although I could verify it if I had access to our records. We keep very careful records.”

“Apparently, if you know the pedigree even of horses that have been bred when out of your hands.” There didn’t seem to be any irony in the Prince’s statement. “I wonder, would it be possible to secure an entire year’s—would you call it a ‘crop’?—of Chargers at once?”

“This year’s Chargers, no, I regret to say,” he replied, trying to convey a genuine regret. “And the ones born this year won’t be released for a while regardless. We hold them until they are four years old, and send them out fully trained, so that they are up to bearing the weight of a fully armored knight, and so that we know when they leave our hands they are battle ready. About half of our Chargers for this year have been sent out already, and most of the rest are spoken for. You could secure the current three-year-olds, however, to be delivered in a year.”

The Prince smiled again, this time with satisfaction. “That would suit me perfectly well. Even the two-year-olds would do. We will speak later, Valdemar.”

He bowed deeply, as was proper. “I am at your service, your Highness,” he said, and the Prince nodded and slipped away.

What the hell was that about? Why would anyone want a full year’s worth of Chargers?

Well . . . moot question. Because it wasn’t going to happen. If all went well, by the time the snow fell, he and his and all of his horses would be long gone.

—