Unicorns? Get Real!

by Kathryn Lasky

  “What form.” They all turned around. It was the Duchess of Bagglesnort. Her mouth curled into a smirk. “Yes, Princess. What form!” and she rolled her eyes. A nervous silence fell upon the archery field.

  “Ah yes.” Master Hawkins spoke nervously. “She has perfect arm placement on the release.”

  Gundersnap knew exactly what the Snort thought of her form. She thought Gundersnap was too squat and too chubby, had too many spots on her face, and had hair the color of mud.

  “Ah, but it takes more than perfect arm placement,” the duchess continued. “What about chubby arms? Well, at least sleeves, yes, bell-shaped sleeves will do the trick,” the duchess said, casting a severe eye up and down Gundersnap. “Gundersnap missed an important makeup session in the Salon de Beauté. If anyone needs extra help, it is the Princess of Slobodkonia. She is not…er”—the duchess hesitated—“a natural beauty.”

  “Madame.” Gortle stepped up to the duchess. “I would like to suggest—”

  “Suggest what, little one?”

  Gundersnap’s color rose and her eyes began to burn. Gortle raised his hand slightly and gave a sign of caution to Gundernsap. But the duchess did not see this. “There are many kinds of form. This is an archery field. This is where Gundersnap excels.”

  “Yes, little man, do go on.”

  A silence suddenly engulfed the archery field. Gortle, with a barely discernible tick of his head and sliding his eyes toward the princess, indicated that perhaps the duchess might want to look to her left as the Princess of Slobodkonia raised her bow and notched an arrow. Although Gundersnap did not point the bow at the duchess, deadly glints sharp as arrows shot from her eyes. The duchess paled. Gundersnap wheeled about and sent the arrow flying toward the target. “Bull’s-eye!” All the princesses whooped.

  Chapter 12

  THE PRINCESS AND THE PIMPLE

  Despite the distractions of the preparations for the Full Moon Ball at Camp Burning Shield, Gundersnap had not stopped worrying about Menschmik. If anything, her worries had increased. How could she be consumed with such trifles as winning an archery contest, or such vanities as which crown jewels to wear with which ball gown, when her pony might lie dying on a distant battlefield? She almost resented the fact that her turretmates were so preoccupied with all the frivolous, pea-brained idiocy that seemed to accompany this venture to a stupid boys’ camp.

  “Gemluct fyrstucken grimpoken guzeiten phluglenspritz.” She was muttering soft curses to herself about this as she pawed distractedly through a small mountain of pearls that her maid had brought up for her to choose from when a shriek split the air. It came from Alicia’s chambers. Gundersnap, Kristen, and Myrella ran from their own chambers into Alicia’s. Alicia stood horrified in front of a mirror.

  “What is it, dear? What is it?” Lady Merry had managed to heave herself from her rocker and lumber into the chamber. “Goodness, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Not a ghost. A zit! I have a zit!”

  And indeed she did. A red pimple blossomed on the end of the lovely princess’s nose.

  “By the grace of Saint Clarice, she has abandoned me,” Alicia moaned.

  “Saint Clarice?” Kristen asked.

  “Patron saint of clear complexions,” Gilly answered as she came in with a pot in her hands. Alicia was known for her flawless complexion. She regarded any blemish with a horror usually reserved for leprosy or heart attacks.

  “Quick, Gilly, get the snails!”

  “The snails!” the other three princesses gasped. They all knew the sickening remedy to clear pimples and had vowed never to succumb to it.

  “Right here, Your Highness.” She lifted up the pot. “Had them ready in case of such an emergency.”

  “Eeew!” Kristen made a sound of disgust.

  “This is no time for squeamishness, Kristen. Snails and the salt are required. This is battle. Would a knight go without his armor?” Alicia challenged.

  “But squished snails,” Kristen said in a weak voice.

  It was well known that the very best treatment for pimples was snails squished up and mixed with salt, then applied to the face. It was a remedy far superior to the usual one of rose water mixed with lemon juice.

  As nauseating as the remedy was, the four princesses watched with rapt attention when Gilly poured salt into several snail shells, which encouraged the creatures to come out. With a pin she dragged them the rest of the way and then began to expertly mash them up with a bit more salt until they were a fine paste.

  “Poor snails.” Myrella sighed.

  “They don’t have a brain,” Gundersnap said. “No nerves. Very low engineering in terms of the animal kingdom. A step above algae.”

  With a small spatula, Gilly began to apply the snail mash to the end of Alicia’s nose.

  “How long does she have to wear that stuff?” Kristen asked.

  “As long as it takes!” Alicia replied firmly. “Please send my regrets to the Great Hall tonight and tell them I shall not be dining, due to a temporary indisposition.”

  “What’s an indisposition?” Myrella asked.

  “In this case, a zit,” Alicia replied. Holding her head as if it were in a vice, she made her way to her bed, where she carefully lay down. She was as still as one of the reclining statues on a coffin in a royal burial chapel. She closed her eyes. “Do not disturb me.”

  Gundersnap rolled her eyes and once more thought how stupid all this was. Well, she for one was not going to submit herself a moment longer to the giddy foolishness that permeated the entire castle. She too planned to send her regrets to the Great Hall, but for other reasons: a visit to Berwynna was in order.

  Chapter 13

  JUST ME?

  Luckily there was an almost full moon, and the Forest of Chimes with its glass bells twinkled brightly. It was easy for Gundersnap to find her way to the place where she had last seen Berwynna. She would do as she had previously—stand, wait quietly—then, if Berwynna did not at first appear, think a slightly insulting thought. Insults always brought Berwynna out. It seemed as if several minutes had passed, and so far there was no sign of the little old woman who claimed to be Merlin’s sister but apparently was not nearly as good a magician.

  “Don’t even go there!” The snarl set the chimes to tinkling as Berwynna once again seemed to emerge from the bark of the tree. She was wearing her moss tutu this time, and on her feet she had odd-looking shoes that curled up at the toes into points, with an acorn stuck on the tip of each point. Her hair was its usual mess, caught up in a spider’s web, and there were a half a dozen spiders creeping around in it. This time on her shoulder a blue jay perched.

  “Go where?” Gundersnap replied.

  “You-know-who.”

  “No, I don’t know who.” She paused briefly. “Oh, your brother Merlin!”

  “Oh yes, him.” Berwynna’s eyes bugged out a bit as she said “him.”

  Gundersnap understood that Berwynna was very sensitive about her brother and his fame. It had been stupid to compare them.

  “Yes, very stupid indeed!” Berwynna said.

  Blast! For just a moment, Gundersnap had forgotten that Berwynna could read minds.

  “Oh yes, I can! One cannot compare Merlin’s and my magic. Merlin is becoming a cultish figure…cheap commercialization…mass-market magic. I practice a more elegant, upscale, high-end kind of magic.” She looked slyly at the princess. “So what do you want?”

  “I need to know more. I cannot continue to sew. I had to stop. Maybe it’s a unicorn, but it could be something else.” Once again Berwynna stepped closer and rose onto her tiptoes. The bells, the moon, the stars reflected in her strange eyes.

  “Behold the gleaming unicorn

  With its ivory spiraling horn.

  The bloodied and the lame do kneel,

  Yet none but true hearts does it heal.

  Is it pony? Is it horse?

  What magic happens at its source?

  Some are born. Yet
some are made,

  And some are torn from warfare’s blade.

  So be you strong of heart and mind,

  And the mystery shall unwind.

  And that is all I’ll tell you now.”

  Princess Gundersnap clamped her lips into a firm line. She dared not ask for more. She knew Berwynna would not tell her another thing.

  “Thank you for what you have told me,” Gundersnap replied. “I’d better go back.”

  As she made her way back to the castle, she pondered on the words “be you strong of heart and mind.” What did that mean exactly? Be brave? Be loyal? Be of your own heart and mind? Believe in yourself? But what was her self? Her self had been made by her mother. Was there any little part that was just her own? Just me? thought Gundersnap with great wonder now. Just me!

  When Gundersnap returned to the South Turret, again time had turned funny tricks. Though she had left at dinner and this time felt she had only been gone perhaps an hour at the most, the clock was beginning to chime midnight. Earlier she had made a lumpy arrangement of pillows in her bed that more or less resembled her—a squat princess sleeping on her side with her face toward the wall. By the time the tenth bell struck, Gundersnap had replaced the pillows with herself and, even though she had vowed to stay awake and repeat the odd rhyme Berwynna had spoken, by the sound of the twelfth chime the Princess of Slobodkonia was fast asleep.

  Chapter 14

  SILK

  “You went to see her again?” Alicia asked, examining her nose in the mirror. “What did she say?”

  “Alicia, if you don’t stop looking at that ferstucken zit of yours which is almost gone, I’m not going to tell anyone anything. I’m sick to death of all this fuss over a ball.”

  “A ball and tournaments,” Kristen added. “Yeah, cut it out, Alicia. Menschmik’s life is much more important than your dumb zit.”

  Alicia looked stricken. “You’re right. It’s just…it’s just well, I’ve never had a pimple before and—”

  “That is the most pathetic excuse ever!” Kristen exploded. “Well, the rest of us have. So count it as an educational experience, an experiment in democracy.”

  “The D word!” Alicia nearly leaped out of her kirtle.

  “Democracy?” whispered Gundersnap. In the empress’s court, any child was spanked who said the D word.

  Kristen just sighed mightily. “Now Gundersnap, what did Berwynna say? Just get on with it. Forget I said anything about the D word.”

  Gundersnap recited the odd poem of Berwynna’s. “It’s that bloody part that makes me really scared.”

  “Say that part again,” Myrella asked.

  “The bloodied and the lame do kneel / Yet none but true hearts does it heal.’”

  “It’s like someone’s going to get hurt, isn’t it?” Gundersnap stuck her bottom lip out. It trembled a bit. She looked as if she were on the brink of tears. “You think my unicorn is all right?” Gundersnap said suddenly. “Oh no, I don’t want to have to worry about him, too!”

  Five minutes later the four princesses ran into the stable where the unicorn was kept. He stood in the middle of an immaculate stall that was lined not with hay but moss the princesses had all gathered in the Forest of Chimes. He seemed perfectly fine and whinnied when he saw the princesses.

  It was the tradition that whoever caught the unicorn was the one to name the creature. So far Gundersnap hadn’t any ideas. Alicia and Kristen had discussed between themselves what name she might pick. They hoped it would not be one of those harsh Slobo words.

  “He is so lovely, Gundersnap,” Alicia was saying. “May I pet him?”

  “Sure,” she replied. Upon seeing Gundersnap, the unicorn had trotted right up to her. She dropped to her knees, and the unicorn folded his legs and settled on the moss. Then gently he put his head in her lap while she fed him. It was enchanting to watch the two of them together. Gundersnap, who was usually so plain, suddenly seemed radiant.

  “He’s is so silky. What will you call him?” Alicia said, stroking his shoulder.

  Gundersnap looked up, her eyes absolutely dancing. “That’s it. I shall call him Silk.”

  “Totally ice!” Kristen exclaimed, and clapped her hands together.

  “It’s the perfect name,” said Alicia.

  “Gundersnap,” Kristen said, “what did it say in that unicorn book you were reading the other day about how you can tell how old they are by their horn or something?”

  “Yes, the spirals—you count them.”

  “Like tree rings?” Myrella asked.

  “Not exactly. Because it’s not one spiral for each year, but one for every five years.”

  “And when are they in their prime?” Kristen asked.

  “Between forty and sixty years old,” Gundersnap replied.

  “That seems old,” Alicia said. “Horses don’t live that long.”

  “Oh, but unicorns do,” Gundersnap replied. “They live well over one hundred years.”

  “Let’s count Silk’s spirals,” Myrella suggested.

  The princesses began counting together: “One—two—three—four—five—six—seven…” They paused. “And a half?” Gundersnap looked up, for as they came to the last spiral, it seemed as if it had just begun to emerge from the unicorn’s forehead.

  “Can we round up?” Kristen asked.

  “Well, let’s just say he’s between thirty-five and forty,” Gundersnap replied.

  “In other words, almost in his prime,” Alicia added.

  Just then the trumpets sounded to call them to the Great Hall for dinner. The four princesses each gave Silk a hug and then left the stables. But Gundersnap was troubled. She had hoped to find at least part of the answer to Berwynna’s riddle in Silk’s stall—but she had learned nothing. She was relieved that Silk was safe and sound, but someone was in terrible danger. She feared it was Menschmik, and that perhaps it was too late for her to do anything. Maybe we must go back to the tapestry? But when would there be time? Tomorrow they would be going to Burning Shield.

  Chapter 15

  THE SNORT MAKES A GRAVE MISTAKE

  There was eel pie for dinner that night, a favorite with Gundersnap but not with Alicia.

  “I just can’t stand the way their little heads poke out of the crust, with those beady eyes. It’s like being watched while you eat,” Princess Alicia complained to Princess Myrella of the Marsh Kingdoms.

  “But,” replied Princess Myrella, “someone is always watching you when you eat as it is, Princess Alicia.”

  “That’s true, but it’s not usually the thing you are eating. An eel—ick!”

  “I myself do not care for eels,” the Duchess of Bagglesnort said in that oozy voice she often used. It gave the four princesses a dreadful feeling. The Snort was going to say something awful, probably to Myrella. It was as if the duchess couldn’t help herself—although this was no excuse. “Just mean,” Alicia had said once, “mean right down to her supposedly royal bones.” There were rumors that the duchess had bought her title—if only they could prove it!

  But it was worse than Alicia or any of them could have imagined. For the Duchess of Bagglesnort had suddenly risen from her seat. Actually it seemed as if she had coiled up, and her eyes began to glitter. She looked like a snake ready to strike.

  “But I am sure our little Princess Myrella probably loves them dearly—eats them, swims with them and who knows, might even dance with them.” She paused, as if she had said something terribly clever. But no one laughed. “Oh, I have a marvelous idea for a little amusement. Why not a charming dance between our little froggy princess and the tiny Slobo dwarf?”

  Dead silence. Had not the Snort learned her lesson on the archery field?

  No one dared look at Gundersnap. Would she explode? Would she seize the sword that was mounted on the wall near her chair and slice off the duchess’s head?

  Then, before anyone could say or do anything, the Snort picked Gortle up from where he sat next to Princess Gundersnap and b
egan jiggling him as she walked toward Myrella.

  Princess Gundersnap made a spectacular leap right onto the tabletop and roared in a terrifying and deep voice, “PUT HIM DOWN THIS INSTANT IF YOU WANT TO KEEP YOUR HEAD ON YOUR SHOULDERS.” She had pulled the sword from the wall.

  The Princess of Slobodkonia’s hot voice could have blistered the paint right off the Snort’s face. “Don’t you ever, I repeat, ever, touch Gortle again.” The Camp Mistress, Queen Mother Adelia Elsinore Louisa, hurried to the table and stood by watching silently. The duchess glanced toward her, a beseeching look in her eyes, as if she hoped the Queen Mum would come to her rescue. She waited for her to scold this rude princess. But the Camp Mistress remained silent.

  “I meant no harm,” the Snort stammered. She saw something that truly frightened her in Princess Gundersnap’s eyes.

  “You mean nothing ever.” The princess’s words fell like cold stones, one by one. “You are nothing. Nothing but a painted shell. A complete twit.”

  “That will be enough, Princess Gundersnap,” the Camp Mistress said. And that was all that was said. Gundersnap was not scolded or punished, much to the Snort’s dismay.

  Chapter 16

  OFF TO BURNING SHIELD

  “So you say we are not permitted to wear our hair powdered until we are at least thirteen?” Alicia was asking Princess Parisiana as they rode in the nearly mile-long procession that wound around the lake to Camp Burning Shield on the other side.

  “Yes, and here I am just two months short of my thirteenth birthday. It provokes me to no end. In the court of Chantillip, we permit eight-year-old girls to powder their hair.”