Page 84 of The Sun King's Noon

“Yes, Master Clemens,” the children grumbled.

Master Clemens closed his eyes and opened them again after seeming to count in his head. He clapped Richard’s shoulder. “They’re yours. May the gods help you.”

As the man limped away, Richard regarded the children. “Good morn. I am glad to make your acquaintance. I expect we shall get on well together.”

The triplets sniggered and nudged at each other. Jeya rolled her eyes. Daisy tugged his sleeve.

“It’s rough,” she announced.

Richard smiled down at her. “Yes. It is wool?—”

“We don’t need you,” Jeya cut in.

“We ain’t babies,” said one triplet.

“You’ll only slow us down,” said another.

“We go where we want,” said the third.

“That all remains to be seen.” Richard clasped his hands behind his back. “Now, you may begin by telling me which of you is Pip, which is Puck, and which is Penn.”

Three identical grins widened, and Richard had a sinking feeling it was to be a long day.

* * *

Richard soon discoveredthat the children had launched a coordinated campaign against him.

Once the procession resumed after the breakfast halt, the triplets scattered like marbles. They vanished beneath wagons, reappeared atop, swarmed up the sides of the dogs’ cart and made the animals bark ceaselessly until the dog-keeper roared her displeasure. Whenever Richard turned to count heads, hefound at most two of them. The third was always elsewhere—up a tree at the verge of the road, hanging by his knees from a wagon’s tailgate, crouched in the grass examining a beetle, sprinting ahead to pelt the clown with acorns.

Daisy, at least, was content to walk at Richard’s side, her hand curled into his. She showed no inclination to release him, and though her grip was sticky with honey residue, Richard found himself reminded of Briony and held her hand all the tighter.

Jeya walked twenty paces behind them. Whenever Richard slowed for her to catch up, she slowed hers to match. She was clever enough not to disobey directly, choosing instead to direct the triplets’ chaos with subtle nods and signals. At the sight of Richard’s frown, she only smirked and continued to twirl her makeshift sword.

A born general, Richard thought grimly as he retrieved Puck from trying to climb the bear. He lugged the giggling boy under an arm and cursed on seeing Penn was about to yank a horse’s tail at the procession’s front. Thankfully, Kaelen—who was training nearby with Boris—also noticed and caught the boy in time.

“Yours, I believe,” Kaelen said cheerfully, slotting Penn under Richard’s other arm.

“Thank you,” Richard gritted out, sweat beading his brow. He realised he’d let go of Daisy’s hand and looked wildly about.

“Behind you,” Kaelen said.

Richard turned and found Daisy standing quietly by his knee, her fingers clutching his trouser leg.

“Do you need help?” Kaelen asked. “I could ask Boris for a break?—”

“They are only children.” Richard gave the boys under his arms a shake that only made them giggle harder. “I have it handled. My siblings were worse.”

It was a lie. While Elara, Corwin and Briony had enjoyed their mischief as children, it only ever took a sharp word and a glare for them to at least pretend to behave. But this unruly lot?—

Discipline.Richard huffed a breath and turned to try to spot Pip and Jeya. There was no discipline. Whatever did parents teach their children these days?

He recalled then that the triplets and Jeya, in fact, had no parents, and guilt seeped in.

Kaelen’s expression was an infuriating mix of amused dubiousness. “Are you sure?—”

“Quite sure,” Richard snarled, and with as much dignity as he could muster with two boys under his arms, stalked away.

By teatime, he had been sent on three false pursuits, made to search an empty hay wagon, and informed with total seriousness by Pip that Daisy had been traded to a passing shepherd for a turnip. He’d scrambled through the crowd and found the little girl sitting next to the clown, feeding crusts to a dog.