Scorpion Mountain by John A. Flanagan Page A

and strained at the leash until Stig allowed her to advance a few steps to greet the princess. He noticed that one of her companions dropped a hand to his sword hilt as the dog came closer. Then the guard saw the massive tail wagging and relaxed.
    â€œHullo, beautiful!” said Cassandra. She stretched out a hand to Kloof, knuckles upward, and let the dog sniff it. She was so petite that Kloof’s head came up past her waist. Kloof sniffed, then allowed the woman to fondle her chin and ears and the ruff at her neck. The huge dog closed her eyes with pleasure at the touch and sank to her haunches.
    Cassandra looked up at Stig, smiling. “Why, she’s just a big old friendly pussy cat, isn’t she?”
    Stig inclined his head. “If she likes you. If not, she’s a big old rampaging monster.”
    Cassandra wiped her hand on her tights and held it out to Stig. “We haven’t met. I’m Cassandra.”
    He shook hands with her and grinned. “I’m Stig. I’m the first mate of the
Heron.
”
    Cassandra nodded and turned to Thorn. “And you must be the famous and redoubtable Thorn.”
    Thorn grinned easily. “I can’t deny it,” he said. He wasn’t sure what
redoubtable
meant but it was coupled with famous so he thought it must be good.
    Cassandra turned to Lydia. “Morning, Lydia.” She nodded at the dart quiver slung over the dark-haired girl’s shoulder. “Can’t wait to see that in action.”
    Lydia nodded, a little more deeply than she might have normally. It was her concession to a curtsy. “Morning, Princess,” she said.
    Cassandra smiled, waving the formality aside. “Please. Call me Cassandra. Or better still, Cassie,” she said. “After all, we’re hunting partners.” Her gaze fell on Ulf and Wulf and her eyebrows went up. “And I’ve heard of you two. All the servants are talking about you.”
    The twins regarded her, their mouths slightly open. She was beautiful, they thought. Small, with a neat figure and blond hair that came down to shoulder length. But, above all, her face was alight with the joy of living, and the sheer pleasure of being out in the sunshine on a pleasant day like this. Ulf and Wulf were smitten. All thoughts of the practical jokes they had planned to play on the Araluen princess were forgotten. They stared at her in mute admiration.
    She stepped forward, prompting them. “And you are . . . ?” she said to Ulf.
    He shook his head. “Ulf,” he finally managed to mutter incoherently.
    Cassandra inclined her head to one side, puzzled. “I beg your pardon?” she asked. It sounded to her as if the Skandian had something caught in his throat. But Ulf continued to gape at her like a love-struck schoolboy.
    Finally, Thorn explained. “That’s his name. Ulf.”
    Cassandra made a small moue with her mouth. “Remarkable,” she said, then turned to Wulf. “And what do I call you?”
    Wulf was a little more composed than his brother had been. After all, he was expecting the question.
    â€œI’m Wulf, your highsomeness,” he said, confusing the correct term of address for a princess.
    Cassandra affected not to notice. “Ulf and Wulf?”
    They both nodded dumbly, their eyes fixed on her. She grinned and added, “And are you two related by any chance?”
    They both snot sniggered with delight and nodded enthusiastically. Cassandra turned to the other three Herons and grinned at them.
    â€œOh, these two are fun!” she said. “Can I keep them?” She was taken aback by the instant chorus of assent from Thorn, Stig and Lydia.
    â€œPlease!” they all said at once, and even Kloof joined in, barking. Ulf and Wulf looked at their friends, insulted. But then they turned their adoring gazes back to Cassandra and the goofy smiles reappeared on their faces.
    â€œWell,” said Cassandra,