CHAPTER 35 The Pounce Protectorate

Henrietta

I walked steadily until just about noon before I came across anyone else on the road, and then a trickle turned into a flood of travelers heading down the Great Road.

So far, I'd seen a family of field mice wearing tiny straw hats riding a small wagon pulled by a lizard, a lone wolfman who looked at me with suspicion, a caravan train of three carriages carrying ten lizardkin and cages filled with livestock, and an elf walking and reading a book at the same time.

We had a few half elves in Drendil. Sumbria was ruled by elves, but I'd never visited their courts. My parents enjoyed attending their royal gala every year while I challenged the Dungeon Valley Crest. I'd met a few elves on delegation to Peldeep, but they were all stoic political figureheads. This was the first elf around my age I had come across.

She wore long pants with a half skirt cut like a leaf over her right leg, and a leather protective chest plate over a loose shirt. Her brown hair was in an elaborate set of braids, and she had darker green skin than the half elves I'd met before. A delicate circlet perched on her brow.

I veered to the opposite side of the road so I wouldn't startle her, but I needn't have bothered; she kept her head in her book the entire time. She appeared shortsighted and had it up to her nose so she could read the words.

Did elves not have glasses?

Hubert was just a normal construct most of the time, flitting about overhead, and only rejoined me when Keith used him as an intermediary.

It was mid-afternoon, and I was halfway between the castle and the dwarves when I met with trouble.

"Here, you!" A beastkin in a helmet and leather gambeson marched over to me from a group of combatants I assumed were headed to the battlefield.

"Yes?" I tensed. I'd only seen a handful of humans since entering the forest, and I was surprised people didn't call spy anytime they saw me.

The beastkin—I couldn't tell what kind, since his ears and tail were hidden by armor—loomed over me. "Are you Princess Henrietta of Drendil?"

I wasn't expecting that. I repeated, more tentatively, "Yes?"

He turned to his compatriots and hollered, "IT'S HER!"

Suddenly, I was surrounded by enthusiastic beastkin.

"Did you really defeat the Dark Lord in single combat?"

"What level Strength do you have?"

"When's the wedding?"

"Have you fought Rufus yet?"

When they first approached, I had immediately taken a guard position so I could escape before the eggs became compromised … but it was quickly apparent the group were more interested in gossip than fighting.

A midsize beastkin who came up to my shoulders did a cartwheel over the group and landed with a flourish in front of me.

His voice carried over. "Alright, you lot, back it up."

There was a bit of grumbling, but everyone complied. The man was a calico catkin with three tufts pointing off each ear. He wore a casual white shirt under an embossed silk and leather vest, and his dark-brown pants tucked neatly into knee-high boots. Two knives and a short rapier hung off his belt. He wore a very fashionable hat; it even had a small collection of feathers. He purred his Rs subtly.

The catkin bowed eloquently, taking off his hat as he did so. "Princess Henrietta, it is an honorrr to meet you." He gave the motley crew behind him a hard stare until most of them realized he expected them to bow as well. Then he smiled back at me. "What brings Yourrr Highness this way?"

"Greetings and well met." I lifted the crate holding the eggs. "I'm delivering these on diplomatic business for Ke—His Royal Viciousness."

He bowed again. "Where are my manners! I am Alistair, and this is my adventuring party, the Pounce Protectorate."

"Adventuring?"

"Why, yes!" Alistair exclaimed. "There are three dungeons in the Dark Enchanted Forest, and so we have a very active adventuring guild."

"THREE?" How had I never heard of this? How had this never come up? "Where are they?"

"The Hollow Gorge and Deep Shoals Dungeons are in Gren's Keep terrritory; Green Oak is beside the elven capital," Alistair kindly explained. "We don't offer access to adventurers from other kingdoms because they are only accessed through our home cities … and you know how people get with the Dark Enchanted Forest. I shouldn't say that's always the case, though; Grand Duchess Calisto sometimes sends us a batch of herrr adventurers to help train them up."

"Excuse me, Miss—Ah, Your Highness," the first beastkin who'd approached me earlier spoke up. "Is it true what the rumors say?"

Alistair tutted at the man. "You shouldn't believe in rrrumors, Cory."

I cleared my throat. "Well, I challenged King Keith …" All eyes looked at me expectantly. "… Just not to a duel," I admitted. "I was technically sent to kill him."

"Rrreally?" Alistair cocked an eyebrow. "And did you?"

"Kill him? Of course not! He's the Dark Lord."

The Pounce Protectorate nodded knowingly. Alistair cocked his head. "So did he kill you?"

"No," I replied. "His necromancer was still on holiday."

More nods of understanding. Alistair gave me an appraising look and concluded, "Alright. Thank you, Princess. Shall we see you at the upcoming battle?"

"Of course." The fact that he hadn't pressed for more information made me relax my shoulders. "Does that mean I'm almost at the turnoff for Gren's Keep?"

I peeked down the road, but only saw more woodland and overhanging tree branches.

"Sorry, Princess, but our city is closerrr to the western borderrr." Alistair frowned, considering. "If you walk there at yourrr current pace, it'll take you almost two full days just to rrreach the connection at the Great Road, and then it's another half day's walk."

"I see." Perhaps it was worth running to the dwarves just so I would have the time for a visit to the beastmen capital. "Thank you, Alistair. I think I'll stop by on my way back. There should be enough time to spend a day or two in Gren's Keep before the war."

"If you hurry." Alistair nodded. "While visiting Gren's Keep, be sure to swing by the Damp Gizzard. Despite the name, it's a local favorite. We are heading there ourselves."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"One last thing." Alistair leaned in and asked, "How good are you at rrriddles?"

"Fair."

The catkin smiled and tipped his hat. "Then you should be alright. Farewell, Princess. It was lovely to make yourrr acquaintance."

The rest of the Pounce Protectorate seemed disappointed that our conversation had ended without more juicy gossip about Keith or myself, or Keith and myself … but I ignored their puppy-dog eyes and continued on my way with a polite goodbye.

With newfound purpose, I clutched the crate more securely and kicked off, activating [Quick Step].