L. Frank Baum - Oz 40

by Merry Go Round In Oz

  ” … trying to get to the throne room!” Sir Gauntlet was saying indignantly. “Matter of gravest importance! Fellow

  here’s been working magic on me! Bad manners! Crime, in fact!

  Fess shut his vizor and opened Sir Treves’s. “Sir, he says you’ve been working magic on him.”

  ”Why, my dear boy, I’ve been trying to convince the fellow I’ve never worked any magic in all my life, and don’t even know how! It’s not my fault he’s feeling poorly, I don’t feel very well myself today, and I’m very disappointed about the Tourney because I was just sure I could win this time … that is …well, never mind that, but-well I don’t feel good either!”

  “Of course not”’ Fess sighed, slamming Sir Greve’s vizor and opening Sir Gauntlet’s. “Sir, you’re mistaken. You haven’t heard the news, Everybody-”

  “Not mistaken at all! Never been tired in my’ life until today! Beastly business! Magic! Only -explanation! Dreadful-”

  Fess shut the rest off by dropping his vizor. “Please, listen to me, both of you! Everybody in the kingdom is tired. It’s because the last Circlet has been stolen!”

  The waving arms stopped in mid-gesture; both knights sat motionless. Cautiously, Fess raised both vizors. Sir Gauntlet’s proud, dark face was turned toward him in astonishment and consternation; Sir Treves’s round, cherubic one had gone deathly pale, and his innocent blue eyes seemed twice their normal size.

  “S-stolen, did you say?” he quavered.

  Fess explained, watching Sir Treves’s face in some alarm. It seemed impossible that he could get any paler, but he was doing so.

  “Waver drugged-Circlet gone …” the fat little knight whispered in horrified tones, and began to tremble so violently that all the sections of his armor jingled together musically.

  “Fellow’s going to faint!” exclaimed Sir Gauntlet, staring at him sympathetically. “Fetch water! Burn feathers under his nose! Courage, old boy, no need to take on so! National Disaster and all that, but not permanent! Assure you! Catch the thief myself! Bring him to justice and all that! Water, somebody! Here, here, old fellow, I apologize for what I said! Complete misunderstanding! Hadn’t heard the news!”

  By this time Fess had dashed to the ornamental fountain by the Grand Doorway and dashed back again with a vase of water, which he poured recklessly over Sir Greve’s pallid face. A moment later the little knight was being helped unsteadily to his feet by Sir Gauntlet, who pounded him clangingly on the back with a mailed hand and supported him, trailing drops of water, down the corridor toward the throne room.

  “Oh, Fess dear, I’ve thought of the song about Sir Gauntlet,” the Flittermouse squeaked. “Overnight, Can’t fight.

  “Don’t you think that’s rather good?”

  Since it was quite as good as most of the Flittermouse’s songs, Fess agreed unhesitatingly, and his little pet swelled into a small gray-blue puffball of pleasure on his shoulder as Fess got the

  servants on their feet and about their duties, and hurried after

  the two old enemies. He was still rather worried about Sir

  Treves, who seemed to be taking the Disaster harder than anybody.

  When he got back to the Throne Room, the Council of Courtiers had begun. King Herald was pounding feebly on the arm of the throne with his sceptre, Queen Farthingale was hold-in her ears as she always did, because she didn’t like the noise, and Pellets, the Privy Councilor, was shouting, “Come to order, Come to order, Come to order!”

  When all was quiet, the King put down his sceptre, folded his plump hands across his plumper middle, and said sadly, “There has been a-er-National Disaster-I’m afraid. Pellets, dear old thing, will you read the minutes of the last Council? Do we have any minutes of the last Council?” he added uncertainly.

  “We have minutes, Your Majesty,” Pellets sighed, “but they would stretch into hours if I were to read them all.”

  There were a few giggles at this, and King Herald, after a puzzled moment, laughed very hard indeed, saying, “Hours! Oh, very funny eh?” while looking anxiously from face to face to make sure he was laughing at the right thing.

  “Therefore,” Pellets continued when the commotion had died down, “I would suggest we dispense with the reading of the minutes and proceed directly to the announcements.”

  “Yes,” the King said quickly. “Oh, yes, I daresay you’re right. Announcements, eh? National Disaster, you mean.

  “Oh, I do wish they would get on with it,” Fess whispered to the Flittermouse.

  While King Herald was bumbling his way through an explanation of the catastrophe-an explanation greatly lengthened by interruptions from the Queen and Prince, and greatly complicated by many references to oatmeal-Fess craned his neck to see if Sir Treves was feeling any better. To his surprise, he could not see Sir Treves at all. A quick glance around the room revealed the missing knight stealthily creeping out the door. Puzzled, Fess started to follow him, then changed his mind because the King at that moment completed his explanations and the throne room began to buzz with talk and ring with cries.

  “Arrest the thief!” exclaimed somebody fiercely.

  “Send him to the Sandbar Sinister!” cried somebody else.

  “No, no, I have it! Find him. Then arrest him!” put in a third voice in a burst of inspiration.

  “Blow the trumpets first,” protested Lady Mace. “Nothing can be done until the trumpets are blown.”

  “But Grandma, what good will the trumpets do?” Lady Annelet objected.

  “It is the proper First Step,” retorted her grandmother severely.

  “Let’s organize an army,” one of the knights said enthusiastically.

  ”That’s against the law,” Peliets told him. “No armies, no wars allowed. Only jousting tourneys.”

  Sir Gauntlet, with some difficulty, raised his sword and waved it feebly. “I will challenge this evildoer to a joust!” he

  shouted.

  “Oh, that’s a splendid idea!” cried several people.

  “Very satisfactory,” agreed Lady Mace. “Trumpets are always blown before a joust.”

  “But Grandma,” began Lady Annelet.

  “I say, could someone take a message to the thief, telling him of Sir Gauntlet’s challenge?” the King inquired hopefully. “That would be just the thing, you know. Eh?”

  “Oh, yes!” the Queen said. “I love a joust!”

  “But Cousin Farthingale,” began Lady Annelet.

  “Hush, Annelet,” said her grandmother. “Say Queen Farthingale

  in Court.”

  ”But Grandma, what good will a joust-” “Hush, Annelet!”

  Just when Fess was beginning to despair of anything sensible being said or done, Prince Rules arose from his throne, held up his hand for silence, and announced, “I have decided what to do in the National Emergency.”

  Fess eyed him dubiously. In appearance, Prince Rules was everything a prince should be. He was handsome, with his blue-black hair, his aloof blue eyes, his slim figure and proud carriage. And though he was a bit condescending in manner, and much deferred to, he was never unpleasant and not really spoiled. He was a fine prince-but of course, he was not very bright. And, as of this morning, he was not very strong, either.

  “What have you decided, dear?” said the queen.

  “I have decided that I, myself, will go and find the Circlet,” the Prince replied. “In fact, I’ll find the other two Circlets too. I am ready to wander all over Oz-all over the world-to find them. I am the Prince, and I will save my kingdom. I shall leave tomorrow.

  There was stunned silence for a moment.

  “Oh, but I say, dear boy,” quavered the King. “All over Oz? I mean to say, out of the kingdom?”

  “The Circlets are not in the kingdom,” Gules said simply. “Or we would have found them long ago. My mind is quite made up. I shall ride my Steed, and Fess the page shall go with me. I must avenge Halidom! Besides,” Rules added suddenly,

  in quite a diff
erent tone, “I want to do something great, Papa! It’s so boring here at the palace. I want to be a famous knight, and if I find the Circlets, I’ll be the most famous knight there ever was!”

  “Oh, Gules, good for you?’ breathed Lady Annelet: “Can I go too?”

  “OF COURSE YOU MAY NOT, ANNELET!” said Lady Mace in a terrible voice. “MOST improper. You will stay safely at home, and knit comforters and things, while your Brave Prince fares forth into the Unknown World. Hooray for Prince Rules!”

  “Hooray! HOORAY!” shouted everybody.

  “Hooray,” Fess said, feeling more dubious than ever.

  “Fess, dear, are we really going with him?” squeaked the Flittermouse, bouncing excitedly up and down. “Oh, are we,

  really?”

  “Of course,” Fess sighed.

  He admired the Prince’s bravery very much indeed, but he had the gravest doubts about the Prince’s ability to find the ring or do anything else. Somebody would have to go with him-to look after him, and find food for him, and prevent him bungling everything-and probably to find the Circlets for him as well.

  “Oh, yes, we’ll go,” Fess said.

  “A person could make up a little song about that!” the Flittermouse said earnestly.

  Chapter 6

  AS SOON as it was known throughout the palace that Fess was going on a journey, all the palace animals wanted to go along. This was impossible, of course, but Fess had great difficulty in convincing them of it. Processions of greyhounds and talbots and little kanets followed him around, crying piteously at the thought of being separated from him for so much as a day; gloom settled over the stables, and the Queen’s Paifrey had to be given hartshorn and water; only the Waver could say nothing about the matter, since he was still asleep.

  “But I can’t take you all.” Fess told them. “You’ll be much better off here, anyway, and Barry is going to feed you while I’m gone. Go along now, I have lots to do. As for you,” he added severely to Fred, who was unmercifully lording it over the other horses, “Behave yourself and go get your hooves polished. You can’t go either unless you quit making everybody else feel bad.”

  Subdued by this threat, Fred went away with Bodkin, and Fess finally managed to escape from the other animals and hurry to the flower garden. In the excitement he had never brought the Unicorn her breakfast. She ate only flowers, and preferred, for her first meal, a dainty basket of trefoils and cinquefoils, with the dew still on them. It was late in the day for dew now, but he gathered the trefoils and cinquefoils, sprinkled a little cold water over them, and went quickly through the ornamental gate into

  the special little garden where the Unicorn lived. She was awaiting him patiently, arching her snow-white neck to rub her long,

  mother-of-pearl horn against a pear tree, and although she was as shy and aloof as ever, she did not seem tired.

  “Thank goodness!” Fess exclaimed when she assured him in her soft voice that she felt quite as usual.

  “Nothing is ever wrong with me, you know,” she added, reaching gracefully for a trefoil.

  “That’s true,” Fess said thoughtfully. The Unicorn was no ordinary animal, but the National Emblem, whose image figured on the Great Seal of Halidom. She was the only known

  creature of her kind, and Fess suspected she was a fairy animal, since she had been given to the first Herald of Halidom by the fairy Lurline in ancient days. Probably nothing ever could be wrong with such a creature. “I guess the Circlet has no power over you,” he said when he had told her about the Disaster. “I’m all right too, because I’m from Troth.”

  “I’m glad,” the Unicorn said gently. “As you know, I don’t care much for the others anyway-except the ladies, of course. Males are usually so rough and boisterous! Except you. I’m devoted to you.”

  Fess thanked her, and asked solicitously if her citrophilous were crisp enough, but his mind was on preparations for the journey, and he soon excused himself, explaining that he had much to do.

  “Oh, take me with you!” the Unicorn begged, pawing wistfully with her golden hoof. “I’m so bored these days, with never a pageant to appear in, and never an artist asking me to pose for a royal crest! Really, nothing is as it used to be in Halidom! I feel I’ve lost caste. What distinction is there in being the Emblem of such a run-down kingdom? Selling bulbs and tree-shoots for a living! Why, it’s In Trade! I don’t even have any Attendant Maidens nowadays, and nobody’s woven a daisy chain for my neck in I don’t know when!”

  Fess promised he would weave her one as soon as he came back to Halidom, but explained that he couldn’t take her with him.

  At least, the only one known in Halidom and Troth. There are other unicorns in Oz, as all scholars of Ozology know. But I’m not a bit sure they were fairy unicorns, are you?

  Tears welled up in her long-lashed golden eyes. “But I can’t endure not to be with you,” she said in a trembling voice. “I don’t want Barry to bring my breakfast! I don’t like boys-ex-CET you. I don’t like this garden any more. I don’t like Halidom, either! I’ll be lonesome.”

  “Now, please don’t cry. I’ll come back as soon as I possibly can,” Fess assured her, and hurried away, leaving her sniffing gently and toying with her trefoils.

  “You forgot to close the gate,” squeaked the Flittermouse, who had been chasing butterflies in the outer garden and now swooped back to Fess’s shoulder.

  “Never mind, one of the gardeners will do it,” Fess said breathlessly. “Flitter, go to the Blue smith’s shop behind the stables, quickly-and don’t let the dogs see you, or the horses either.

  You’ll find Bodkin there, seeing to Fred’s hooves. Tell him I said to take Fred to the woods west of the palace and tie him there, saddled and bridled, as soon as the sun goes down. Do you understand? And don’t let anyone else hear what you say!” The Flittermouse swooped away on soundless wings, and

  Fess went in search of Prince Rules, whom he found in his dress-in-chamber, trying to decide whether to wear his blue cape with the white crest, or his white cape with the blue crest.

  “The blue cape won’t show the dirt so quickly,” Fess told him.

  “Oh, do you think we’ll get dirty?” Gules said interestedly. He had never been dirty in his life, and thought it sounded quite dashing.

  “I’m almost sure of it,” Fess sighed. “Prince Rules, I think we’d better sneak away tonight, in secret, instead of waiting until tomorrow. We’re going to have all the dogs and horses following us if we don’ t.

  “Very well,” said Rules, more interested than ever. “But how can we arrange-”

  “I’ll arrange it all. I’m going now to have the cook make sandwiches for us. If you’ll be ready by sundown, I’ll do the rest.

  The Prince agreed graciously to this, and shortly after sundown, when the blue Munchkin evening settled down over Pax-on-Argent, Fess, Rules and the Flittermouse stole quietly out of the palace by a side door, slipped along the shadowed High Road to the woods, and found Fred waiting impatiently for them in a little clearing.

  “High time!” he whinnied impatiently. “I really cannot understand, Your Highness, why we must sneak about like this, when-”

  “Hush! We’re leaving secretly!” the Prince whispered.

  “Secretly? But what about our Sendoff? What about the Procession? This is a Quest, isn’t it? Then what about-”

  “Hush!” the Prince repeated, stamping his foot. “Behave or I won’t let you go. Now, hold still, Fred.”

  “Federigo,” the Steed corrected him sulkily, but he stood still while Fess strapped the lunchbasket to his back. A moment later Rules swung into the saddle and the little party started off through the woods.

  “Where are we heading, Fess dear?” squeaked the Flittermouse cheerfully.

  “West,” Fess said. “To the gate in the Crenelated Wall. It’s the easiest way out of Halidom.”

  “And after we’re out of Halidom, then what?”

  “Then we’ll see,” Fess said une
asily. He had no more idea than the Flittermouse where to look for the Circlets, and it was obvious the question had not yet entered the Prince’s mind. When it did, he would be puzzled and interested for a moment, then he would graciously leave the matter up to Fess. Everything was going to be up to Fess-he knew it very well. “I’ll just have to do the best I can,” he thought as he trudged through the dark forest in Fred’s wake.

  It was easier going once they were through the woods, and even easier when the moon came up. The countryside lay blue and silver in the pale light, with the towers of a castle rising

  here and there in the distance, and the mulberry orchards dark

  on the hillsides. Halidom did not look shabby and down-at-the-

  heel at night, it looked perfectly beautiful-and comfortingly

  familiar. Fess wondered, with an odd little lump in his throat,

  when he would see it again, and tried not to think about the unknown

  lands beyond the Crenelated Wall.

  Since the others of the party were not much given to thinking, they were perfectly cheerful. Prince Rules rocked to and

  fro in the saddle, half asleep. Fred plodded along drowsily but willingly, snatching a bite of grass now and then. The Flittermouse, who could see perfectly at night, left Fess’s shoulder frequently to chase moths or swoop among the silvery weeds at the roadside, humming his latest little song. It was the one about Prince Rules riding forth into the world to save Halidom, and it went

  “Donned his helm, Left the realm.”

  Or sometimes it changed to:

  “Carried his mace To another place.”

  Fess praised both versions absently, but his mind was elsewhere. In spite of Fred’s tiredness and weakness, which made