Read Too Many Princes for Free Online

happening in Harburg—an attempt on his life, no less—and the old fool had to send him off on some idiot quest. Instead of defending himself, he'd be at the beck and call of... What? The Lady of Hawkwing House? He'd never heard of her, but the talking falcon alone made him wary. There was witchcraft at work, and that was bad news for sure.
    But he wasn't going to argue with some stupid bird. “ Come on, Pup. ” Brastigan turned to walk on, but at a reasonable pace, and he did his best not to shuffle like a sulky boy.
    “ Where are we going? ” Lottres asked patiently.
    “ To see Eben, remember? Before I lose the chance. Or, ” he mocked, “ get arrested for bearing naked steel in the castle. ” Tarther, the captain of the keep's guard, would love to have the chance, too.
    “ A wise choice, ” observed the falcon.
    He didn't want its advice. “ Why don't you go catch a mouse or something? ”
    The bird blinked at that. Had he annoyed it? Good.
    “ All right, Bras, ” Lottres agreed. No doubt he thought he should go with his brother and keep him out of trouble. “ But why are you so angry? ”
    “ Father always makes me mad, ” Brastigan growled with a renewed surge of irritation. How dare he, the old man... Just because he was king... Why did he have so many kids, if he didn't want them around?
    “ I know, ” Lottres answered. He sighed. “ Maybe I'm so used to being a disappointment to him, it just doesn't surprise me any more. ”
    “ That is untrue, ” the falcon told them.
    “ What do you know about it? ” Brastigan snarled.
    Archly, the great bird answered, “ I think I will go catch a mouse. ”
    “ Wait! ” cried Lottres, but it was already flapping away from his shoulder. It passed over the wall, from the shadows of the courtyard into the evening sunlight, and glided out of sight.
    Lottres turned to Brastigan, sighing again. Brastigan wished he would stop doing that.
    “ What did you do that for? ” The creature must have caught Lottres with its claws, for he rubbed his neck and winced.
    “ Because it isn't natural, ” Brastigan snapped. “ How can I talk to you with that thing listening to us? ”
    “ I wanted to hear what it was saying, ” his brother complained. “ The information could be useful. ”
    “ Or it could be feeding you a cock and bull story. Don't get sucked into this romantic garbage, Pup. Ancient pact, my eye! Sorcery is nothing but bad news to plain folks like us. ”
    “ Bras, ” Lottres began to argue, then stopped. “ It's only for a little while. We'll see what Lady Yriatt wants and be back before you know it. ”
    But Brastigan wasn't sure he wanted to return. Not after this.
    * * *
    Eben lived in the northernmost tower on the inner ward. It was the also highest, built more for spying out invaders than defense. Still, its slender column contained more private space than even the king and queen had. That in itself was odd, since Eben wasn't an official of the court. He was the king's close friend, however, and he had been there for so long that nobody questioned it any more.
    Like a good brother, Lottres trailed after Brastigan. He was left behind, as usual, but his mind was as much in a hurry as his legs, thinking about Eben and the falcon, and their quest.
    Brastigan might be too caught up in his temper to see the advantages, but Lottres wasn't. A talking falcon! It was the most exciting thing to happen in years—and they got to be part of it. Lottres looked forward to the brotherhood of the road, new places, thrilling exploits. He could have danced for joy, if his brother would just slow down a moment.
    Because he was good with numbers, Lottres spent his days in a fusty port office, calculating tariffs and the like. He never saw anything interesting, aside from the occasional transposed number. Lottres felt so bored and cooped-up, he was ready for any adventure. Even Brastigan felt the same way. He'd said it himself, “ Have you noticed how boring it