Fancy pants's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

The body was still on the porch when the second rider came. Fancy Pants heard the hooves before the dogs did. She stepped down into the yard with her hands empty and her hair loose in the wind. Thomas was already there, blade wiped, feet planted between her and the track. The rider was a herald, not a fighter. He wore a clean coat and a laird's badge on his chest. He looked at the dead man on the boards and did not dismount. He read from a folded paper without meeting anyone's eye. "By the word of Laird Thomas of this valley," he said, "the silver stag stays. Any who come to take him, or to ask his secret, will be put down as this one was. So it is decreed." He paused. He added, softer, "And any who object will be answered the same." Fancy Pants turned to Thomas. "You sent that." "I sent it this morning," Thomas said. "To every village your ride touched." "You made yourself the wall." "Aye." The ginger princess came out onto the porch. She had a cloth in her hand and blood on her sleeve from cleaning the boards. She looked at the herald until he lowered the paper. "Ride back," she said. "Tell them the decree stands. Then tell them the stag is gone by nightfall." The herald opened his mouth. He closed it. He turned his horse and went. Thomas did not move. "He stays. I said so." "You said so to keep her safe," the ginger princess said. She nodded at Fancy Pants. "He won't keep her safe. He'll bring a hundred more like that one." She pointed at the dead man without looking at him. "You can't kill a hundred." "I can." "You won't." Her voice stayed low. "Not for me. Not for her. I am asking." Fancy Pants stepped between them. She put her hand flat on Thomas's chest. His heart was going hard under her palm. "She's right," Fancy Pants said. "The decree keeps him here and buries us under bodies. I haven't asked the wish yet. If we die on this porch, no one asks it." Thomas looked past her at the pen. The silver stag stood at the slats, watching Fancy Pants the way it always did. Still. Waiting. "Where," Thomas said. One word. "Somewhere no village knows," Fancy Pants said. "I'll take him myself. He'll go for me." Thomas breathed out. He sheathed the blade. "Then the decree is a lie." "Let it be a lie," the ginger princess said. "Let them come here and find an empty pen." Fancy Pants walked to the gate. She lifted the latch. The stag stepped through and stopped at her shoulder, close enough to touch. She did not touch him yet. She looked back at the two of them, laird thomas stopped her, said the stag is secretly my son in animal form, a kiss from a proper princess will change him back to human, ginger princess kisses him on the nose and he transforms instantly to a handsome young man and the stag was never seen again, no need for people to come looking any longer, he’s gone.