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often discussed Greek philosophy or Latin literature far into the night. “I’m not of a mind to get pulled into my mother’s toils this afternoon. What say you to going straight to the stable and riding off before anyone knows what we’re about?”
    â€œI’d say that’s a good plan,” Benno agreed readily, as he would agree with almost anything Siegfried suggested by way of amusement. “Will you ride your black today or the bay?”
    â€œThe bay, I think; he’s the better jumper.” Siegfried was looking forward to a good, challenging ride over rough ground; for some reason, he’d been suffering from a growing discontent since late spring, and he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling except when he was doing something active. Music made him melancholy, he was dissatisfied with his own attempts at poetry, and the books he used to love left him feeling stale and flat. He wanted something, but he didn’t know what it was.
    A good war, maybe, is what I need; a fight worthy of a man. Not that I’m likely to get one. No evil sorcerers about, and no one threatening to lay siege to us. Much as he loved his mother, there was no denying the fact that her court was that of a woman—slow, sleepy, and dull. Peace was all very well for old men and females, but a young man needed something to get his blood stirred up.
    He and Benno strolled across the yard to the stable, leaving his squires still picking up his arms and armor for cleaning. His shirt stuck to his back, and he couldn’t wait to be mounted and out of the still air within the castle grounds. There was no breeze to cool him here in the courtyard, and he ran his hand through his sweat-matted hair to get it out of his face as he entered the shadows of the stable. A groom hurried to meet them, but Siegfried passed him by, too eager to wait for his beast to be brought to him.
    Benno ordered his dun hunter saddled; Siegfried himself saw to the harnessing of his bay, throwing blanket and saddle over the strong back, then tightening the girth as a stable boy got the bridle onto the beast’s head and the bit into his teeth. Siegfried took over fastening the throat and cheek straps, then led the bay out into the sunlight. The horse was calm, but fresh and eager to be out of the stable; good omens for a fine ride. He mounted up and checked the stirrups and seat of the saddle as Benno’s horse was brought, and as his friend took his own seat, the servant arrived with their provisions. They each took a flask and a packet of bread and cheese and stowed them in their saddlebags, and Benno’s squire brought their bows and quivers. As he waited for Benno to arrange his weapons to his liking, he felt that stale, flat feeling come over him again.
    What is wrong with me? Why does nothing satisfy me anymore?
    A minute later, Siegfried looked up at the blue sky above the castle towers, and felt his heart lift a little at the prospect of an afternoon of freedom. He spurred his horse forward and trotted out into the forest, Benno a pace behind. If a gallop through wild woods couldn’t cure him, at least for an afternoon he could forget his discontent.

CHAPTER THREE
    N OW that the new one—Katerina was her name, apparently—had resigned herself to her situation and had joined the activities of the flock, Odile could go back to her own concerns, relying entirely on the Silent Ones to oversee the swan-maidens. The Silent Ones had always served as spies on the maidens when von Rothbart didn’t need them; they were perfect for the task, after all. Although they could not interfere effectively if something were to go wrong, and could not report what they observed to her (although they could communicate with von Rothbart directly), they could get her attention when something was wrong. With her father gone nearly every night, the Silent Ones had no need to hover over him, waiting on his whims. Odile left half