Jack Frost: King of Thieves

CHAPTER XXXIX: A Dance

He and his riders reached the outskirts of Dorfeld just as night fell. Stars spread across the velvet blue sky, from the darkness of the east toward the waning fiery glow at the western horizon. From the rise where they halted their mounts, he could see a bonfire burning at the edge of a broad field. People converged on the blaze from other fields, and from the town at the base of the hill—it seemed that some sort of celebration was just beginning.

Good. That would give him the opportunity to approach unseen. Dymas Phrygias twisted around in his saddle to face the leader of the small escort that had ridden north with him.

"Wait for me here," he said.

The man nodded. Phrygias rode alone toward the fire."

* * *

As he and Elsa returned to Darlington Manor from the forest, Jack managed to shoot and kill a wild boar. That boar now turned on a spit over a great bed of coals not far from a blazing bonfire. Sinbad turned several birds, including Jack's pheasants, on small spits nearby. Villagers had brought cheeses and breads, greens and roots, mead and wine. King Hans wouldn't have thought much of the feast they were preparing, but in his brief time here, Jack had yet to see the people of Dorfled this excited. Everywhere he looked, people grinned and laughed. Jack could see, though, that Elsa had been right the other day. There were few young men left in the town and fewer boys.

Peter had brought his flute and was playing a tune. Jack saw Friar North and Ester approaching, each carrying stone jars, and Ester rolling a keg in front of him with one foot. When they finally reached the fires, North sat down behind Peter and took up a double-sided drum.

Ester hefted the keg. "Come, Peter," he said. "I'll get them drinking if you'll get them dancing."

Peter smiled and began to play a lively old drinking song. The friar beat the drum in time, and around them, people began to clap their hands. Jack wondered when they had last enjoyed such an evening in this town.

Jack had joined Sir Sandy, who sat bathed in the glow of the bonfire, a huge grin on his lined face, one hand slapping his thigh in time with the music.

"Music. Laughter. The crackle of a bonfire." He paused, sniffing the air. "And a roasting pig!" he said, delighted. "That unmistakable sound of people about to eat." He turned his grin on Jack. "You have returned life to us."

"And the fields planted."

Jack looked up to see that Elsa had emerged from the darkness to stand with them. She held out a hand to him.

"As lord and mistress, it is expected that we dance," she said. "They will wait until we do."

Jack looked over to where Peter and the friar were playing. The townspeople were milling around the musicians and clapping, but they had yet to start dancing. And, in fact, many of the villagers kept glancing toward the two of them, clearly waiting. It would still take him some time to get used to being lord of the manor.

He looked up at Elsa once more, took her offered hand, and let her lead him over to the bonfire and the musicians. Her hand felt warm in his and he was conscious suddenly of the firelight shimmering in her hair. He sensed that every pair of eyes was trained on them, but he didn't care. In that moment, all that seemed to matter was the music and the fire and the woman beside him.

Elsa took hold of his other hand, nodded to him once, and they began to dance.

Nobody appeared to have noticed the sheriff as he rode up to the field, dismounted, and approached the fire. He had gotten himself a tankard of ale, but still, no one spoke to him. Now, watching through the flames as Overland and Lady Elsa danced in the firelight, he raised his cup, trying to join the spirit of the evening.

"Well," he said, "here's to..." He trailed off. No one seemed to hear him. They didn't even seem to know he was there. He lowered his cup slowly, the smile he had fixed on his lips giving way to a scowl. Grumbling to himself, he took another drink and watched.

Ester had the keg tapped and was filling cups and tankards as quickly as they were handed to him, and occasionally draining and refilling his own.

Peter had finished his first song and was playing another one, as North continued to beat on the tabor drum, occasionally taking time out to drink his honey mead. Sinbad began to sing.

If I were a minstrel,
I'd sing you six love songs,
To the whole world of the love that we share...

Jack had never thought much of Sinbad's singing voice, but tonight he sounded sweeter than usual. Although that might have had more to do with the woman dancing with Jack, than with anything Sinbad had done to improve his singing.

Once he got started, Jack realised that he liked dancing more than he thought. Then again, that might have been Elsa's doing, too. The townspeople around them had joined in the dancing almost as soon as Jack and Elsa began. They laughed and clapped hands, and shouted greetings to Sir Jackson and Lady Elsa as they spun past. Jack barely noticed them.

He did spot the Sheriff of Dorfled lurking at the edge of the firelight, a tankard in one hand and a piece of roasted fowl in the other. The sheriff appeared to be watching them dance. Jack thought that the man looked covetously at Elsa, but that might have been a trick of the light, or of his own imagination. A moment later, the sheriff turned and walked away, melting into the darkness. And good riddance to him.

Sinbad sang on.

If I were a merchant,
I'd bring you six diamonds,
With six blood red roses for my love to wear...

Jack had his arm around Elsa's waist, and her arm was around his. Her eyes shone brightly with the flames, and her colour was high. A smile touched her lips as she met his gaze. He smiled in return. Her eyes held his for another beat of North's drum and then she looked away self-consciously. Jack felt others watching them. They were supposed to be husband and wife, and just then he felt very much like they were. Did Elsa as well? Was it too soon for her?"

But I am a simple man,
A poor common farmer,
So take my six ribbons to tie back your hair.

She leant closer to him, her body moving in concert with his, her hair close enough that he could smell rosemary and lavender. She looked up into his eyes again, then lowered her gaze, smiling still, moving her head closer to his neck.

Jack leant in once more, inhaling, hoping to catch the scent of her hair again. As he did, though, he spotted something in the distance, near to the edge of Graywood.

At first, he thought it another trick of the light. The glow of the bonfire barely reached that far. His sight was keen; he doubted that many others would have noticed. Sinbad perhaps, and Peter. But they were busy with their music.

Elsa noticed the line of his gaze and shot him a questioning look. Still, he watched the fields nearest the wood. It seemed that a deer had stepped out from the trees. But it wasn't a deer. Other animals followed. A badger, a wolf, a bear, a fox. And still more came. A line of them. Jim and his boys had come forth from the wood. They didn't approach the fire but remained where they were, watching.