Iylaine discovers the art of blackmail

Iylaine ran for the stables. She had made up her mind. It had taken a good, long cry, curled up in a shadowy alcove in the great hall, but she knew now what she would do.

There was one person in the valley who loved elves. There was one person in the valley who loved her. She would go to him. That was all.

She would make him keep her with him, over at the new castle. He had told her that he had a snug little room to sleep in, with a lonely bed. Well, he wouldn’t be lonely any more. It didn’t matter that there were no other children to play with. She would have her Da.

He had shown her where the new castle lay. He had shown her the tall hill on the horizon, with its profile like a man’s head and shoulder. It would be easy to find.

And she had slyly asked a guard how many hours remained until sundown. The guard had said four or so—and her Da had said it was only three hours by horse. She would see him before supper, and they would eat together. Perhaps he would hold her in his lap as he used to do when she was smaller.

It remained only to find a way to get her pony saddled and ready. She didn’t know how to do it herself. She would have to find a groom who would not ask too many questions.

She thought it would be easy if only she could find Wulsy. Wulsy was nice. He didn’t seem to mind that she was an elf, even after his friend was attacked by one. None of the other grooms liked to see her around the horses.

Just then she thought she heard Wulsy’s wife. She had a most peculiar laugh—His Grace said that it sounded like a donkey that had swallowed a goat that had swallowed a frog that had swallowed a pin. But Wulsy’s wife made the best pies. She was nice too. And if she was here, then Wulsy was too.

She followed the sound of the braying-​baaing-​croaking to the door of a store room. She heard a man’s voice too. She thought Wulsy must have been inside with his wife.

She pushed the door open.

Wulsy was inside kissing his wife.

Well, she thought, that was inconvenient. Adults were always kissing one another for no good reason—especially the Duke and Duchess. And they didn’t like to be disturbed. But she had to hurry if she wanted to beat the sundown.

“Excuse me,” she said in her politest voice.

Wulsy’s wife shrieked. Iylaine was surprised to see that the front of her dress was open—and yet she did not think Wulsy and his wife had any babies—and certainly none in the room.

“What?” Wulsy said, clearly annoyed, or perhaps a little frightened. Only…

“You’re not Wulsy!” Iylaine cried.

“No, I guess I’m not! Get in here, kid,” he said, pulling her inside. “What’s this about?”

“I was looking for Wulsy,” she said, glancing at Wulsy’s wife. “I guess you’re not Wulsy’s wife any more, or what?”

“Get rid of her,” Wulsy’s wife muttered, tying up her dress.

“What do you want?” the man asked. It was Olaf, another groom. But she didn’t like him very much.

“I want Wulsy to saddle Blackie for me. Where is he?”

“I don’t know where he is,” Olaf said nervously.

“Do it for her,” Wulsy’s wife said. “Hurry up.”

“I want Wulsy to do it,” Iylaine said.

“Wulsy isn’t here, Baby,” Olaf said. His voice was suddenly kind, but his smile was not so nice. “Why don’t I do it for you?”

Iylaine scuffed her toe in the straw. “Well, I don’t know…”

“I’ll do it for you right away, honey, if you promise not to tell anyone you saw us here. Will you promise?”

Perhaps this was better, Iylaine thought. If Olaf didn’t want her to tell anyone what she had seen, then he would not be likely to tell anyone that seen her and saddled her pony.

“I suppose that would be acceptable,” she said airily. “I shan’t say anything, but you must hurry.”