The Unhandsome Prince

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The Unhandsome Prince Page 20

by Moore, John


  And came face-to-face with Prince Kenny.

  Kenny raised an eyebrow. “Really, Hal. Have you decided to join in the looting? I’d have thought that beneath you.”

  Kenny was in his Guard uniform, with half a dozen of the Guards with him. They made for a menacing tableau. Unlike Jeff’s soldiers, who tended to be well disciplined and professional, the Royal Guards were considered by many to be little more than uniformed thugs. Certainly they were the better class of thug, and corruption in the corps was kept at a minor level, but Kenny’s friends did not shy from the use of excessive force. Or miss out on an opportunity to gratuitously break some heads.

  Hal looked down the street. He could see Jeff and Caroline, trying to get the carriage through a mass of people. He quickly looked away and shifted the wheel under his arm. “Just picking up some last-minute bargains, Kenny.

  Going out of business sales, and all that. Emily saw this spinning wheel in the shop window and had to have it.”

  “Oh?” Kenny looked at her quizzically. “I didn’t know sorceresses spun.”

  “Oh, I don’t,” said Emily. “But it was such a good price. Think of all the money I saved.”

  Rumpelstiltskin said nothing. He knew Prince Kenny was not like Prince Hal, and commoners did not initiate conversations with royalty.

  Kenny looked at the shop door. “Goldsmith,” he said. “And a moneylender?”

  Hal shrugged. “Most goldsmiths are.”

  “And a bookmaker?”

  “Most of the bookmakers are also moneylenders. As our family knows too well.”

  “Mmm,” said Kenny. He turned to his men. “Search the shop.”

  Jeff and Caroline were just a block away now. Hal stepped aside. The Guards pulled the door open just as a splintering crash came from the front. The shop filled with angry men.

  “Looters,” said Hal. “We ran into them at the front door.”

  “Are they?” said Kenny. He smiled thinly.

  “Aren’t you going to stop them?” said Emily. “They’re destroying that man’s shop.”

  “That man is a Jew and won’t be returning. But if he left behind any financial records pertaining to Dad’s debts, I want to make sure they’re destroyed. Get in there,” he told the Guards. “And make sure they do a good job.”

  The carriage was just down the street now. Kenny still hadn’t seen it. Hal said, “There’s nothing upstairs. I already looked.”

  “Yeah?” Kenny gave Hal a long stare. “I think I’ll check the upstairs myself.”

  He went inside. Hal grabbed Emily’s hand and tore off down the street. He reached the carriage, flung the door open, and tossed in the spinning wheel. He quickly helped Emily inside, just as Caroline and Jeff climbed down from the coachman’s seat. Hal pointed to the goldsmith’s shop. “Jeff, Kenny’s inside there with some Guards. I don’t know if he’s figured it out, but I don’t want to take any chances. Can you make sure he doesn’t follow us?”

  “No problem. I’ll keep him inside until you’re away. Where are you going?”

  “I’ll go with you,” said Caroline, climbing inside the coach. Hal was already on top. He snapped the reins, and the coach took off down the street, hell-bent for leather, pedestrians scattering before it, some barely escaping the iron-rimmed wheels.

  “Hal!” yelled Jeff. “Take it easy, for God’s sake!” and then, “Figured it out! Figured out what?”

  The coach took a corner on two wheels, throwing Emily into Caroline’s lap. Moments later the two were flung in the other direction, then back again. “Isn’t this great?” said Caroline. “I love taking a carriage ride in the country. It’s so relaxing.”

  “I quite agree,” said Emily, bouncing nearly to the ceiling. “The gentle swaying—oof—nearly puts me to sleep.”

  There was a rapping at the coach door, surprising both girls, since the vehicle was moving at top speed. Caroline pulled back the curtain. A set of fingers was curled over the sill. She leaned out, grabbed a small man by the shoulders, and hauled him in the window. He flattened out on one seat and looked up. “Miss Caroline?”

  “Rumpelstiltskin, you have a way of turning up at the oddest places.”

  “Yes, well I hope you don’t mind my inviting myself along for the ride. But it is my spinning wheel, after all.”

  “The more the merrier. Do you know what Prince Hal intends to do with this wheel?”

  “Nope. Do you know where he’s going?”

  “Nope,” said Emily.

  “In that case,” said Caroline, settling back into a seat cushion, “we’ll have to wait and find out. Does anyone have a story to pass the time?”

  “Sure,” said Rumpelstiltskin. “Whan that Aprille, with hise shoures soote . . .”

  “I’ve heard that one,” said Emily.

  “Wait!” said Caroline. She yanked back the curtain and looked out the window again. “I remember this. This is the road we came in on. Are we going back to Ripplebrook?”

  It appeared so, but there was no discerning Hal’s intent. The girls could do nothing but wait, while the horses’ rapid pace ate up the miles, covering in an hour a distance that previously had taken them half a day to walk. At this pace the horses didn’t last long, but Hal stopped at a military outpost at the base of the foothills and demanded another team. The soldiers were in no position to refuse a prince, particularly one who was wild-eyed and spattered with blood, for the strain of pulling a six-horse hitch had opened up the hole in his arm. Caroline sought to dress his wound, and Emily to question him about their destination, but Hal just shook them off and climbed back up to the driver’s seat. There was no choice but to get back in the coach and go along.

  But when, an hour later, the coach turned off the road and followed a narrow track into the hills, Caroline was able to say, “I know where we’re going. This is the way to that tower.”

  “Where the girl with the long hair was?”

  “Right. Rapunzel. We’ll have to get out and walk pretty soon.”

  She was right. A few minutes later the coach stopped and Hal appeared at the door. It took some work to get it open, for they were hemmed in by saplings, and Rumpelstiltskin had to help shove from the inside. Hal leaned in and shouldered the spinning wheel. He looked pale and feverish.

  “Are you taking that to the tower?” asked Emily.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “No.” He disappeared into the undergrowth.

  Emily and Caroline exchanged glances. “Go with him,” Caroline said finally. “I’ll take care of the horses, then I’ll follow you.”

  Emily nodded. The sun was setting, and the forest had already grown dark enough for fireflies to start flashing. With the dim light and the thick woods she couldn’t see Hal, but she could hear him crashing through the brush, and the trail he made was easy to follow. Rumpelstiltskin stayed behind her.

  Hal got to the tower well ahead of them. The black column looked strange even during the day, but silhouetted against the setting sun it seemed even more mysterious. Hal kicked aside the blanket over the door, entered, and set the wheel unevenly on the floor. It fell over with a clatter. Rapunzel, sitting on a pile of cushions, looked up. “Prince Hal, what a pleasant surprise! I was just brushing my hair. You know, I really think these silver-chased brushes are—”

  “Stow it, Rapunzel.” Hal dropped into another chair. “I don’t want to hear it.” He was very pale now, and his hair was wet with perspiration. He waited while Emily and Rumpelstiltskin entered. “Just tell me where the red mercury is.”

  Rapunzel opened her mouth, then closed it without saying anything. She stood up and went to a sideboard, her long hair dragging behind her, and poured some water into a basin. Hal watched her. She came back with a sponge and a towel and knelt beside him. “You don’t look well at all, Your Highness. You’d better let me tie up that arm.”

  Hal pointed at the wall with his other arm. “Loose bricks.” He kicked at the floor. “Loose
tiles. I couldn’t figure out why you didn’t want to leave after I got you out of the tower.”

  Rapunzel had rolled up Hal’s sleeve and sponged away some of the blood. She carefully avoided meeting his eyes. “I’m afraid you’ve lost me, Your Highness.”

  “And all those holes outside. I should have figured it out right away.”

  “Excuse me, Your Highness,” said Rumpelstiltskin. “Of course, it’s perfectly obvious to me what you’re talking about. Yes sir, just as plain as the nose on your face. But, uh, maybe you want to explain, purely for the benefit of Miss Emily, what this is all about?”

  Hal took the towel from Rapunzel and wrapped it around his arm. “Emily explained it all to me,” he said.

  “I did?”

  “The Law of Similarity, she called it. If you want to use magic to change something into gold, it has to resemble gold to start with. Like brass. Not just any brass, but virgin brass. A particular alloy that exactly matches the color of pure gold. Or flax, harvested when just the right shade, unretted to retain its color. Ever looked at gold? Really looked at it?”

  “Not nearly often enough,” said Rumpelstiltskin.

  “Most people think of it as yellow, but it really isn’t. It’s more like a light brown, with reddish highlights. In fact,” and now he slid his hand under Rapunzel’s chin and tilted her head so that she was looking directly at him, “it’s exactly the color of your hair.”

  The room was silent. Emily lit a candle. Everyone, including Rapunzel herself, looked at her hair, the unending waves spread over the floor and draped over the furniture, reflecting a soft, golden glow.

  “Torricelli was a mysterious man,” said the Prince. “It took me a long time to figure out what he was doing.

  Why did he kidnap Rapunzel to begin with? Sure, she’s very pretty . . .”

  “Thank you,” said Rapunzel.

  “. . . so I thought what any man would think.”

  “No!” said Rapunzel. “Nothing like that happened!”

  “No, of course not. He had to keep your virtue intact until the time came to spin the gold. That’s one of the requirements for the spell, right? An exchange of magical power.”

  Rapunzel said nothing. Emily nodded. So did Rumpelstiltskin.

  “And in the meantime he wanted you growing as much hair as possible. The more hair, the more gold. He farmed out construction of the spinning wheel to a cabinetmaker.”

  “That was me,” said Rumpelstiltskin.

  “And he purchased a philosopher’s stone from another magician. Probably he didn’t know how to make it himself. But he knew Amanda—he was going to take her daughter as his apprentice. So he placed an order for her to make some stone. I expect she did not know about the kidnapping.”

  “I’m sure she didn’t,” said Emily. “Or she’d never have apprenticed me to him.”

  “Torricelli made the red mercury himself,” continued Hal. He looked at Rapunzel. “He told you all about it, I’m sure. Guys just can’t resist trying to impress pretty girls with their cleverness. Look at me—I’m doing it right now.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rapunzel said evenly.

  “But he didn’t tell you everything. He didn’t tell you who he bought the spinning wheel from, or the philosopher’s stone. So after I killed Torricelli, you decided not to go home right away. Your only chance for getting the gold was to hope that the sellers would deliver the wheel and the stone here. You kept your hair long and waited.” Hal shrugged. “And here we all are.”

  “Wait,” said Rumpelstiltskin. “How do you know he made his own red mercury? Maybe he ordered out for that also.”

  “He made it,” said Hal firmly. “He told her. And he hid it in this tower.” He kicked at the floor again. “Loose tiles. Loose bricks.” He pointed to Rapunzel. “You tore this place up, looking for it. You took up the floors, knocked holes in the walls. You even dug around outside. The holes are still there. So, did you find it or didn’t you?”

  Rapunzel remained silent. Emily looked from one person to the other and, after a long wait, finally broke the silence. “Hal,” she said gently, “you’re hurt, and you’re bleeding, and you look feverish, and I don’t doubt that you’re light-headed also. You need to rest. There’s no red mercury here. If you were thinking clearly, you’d see that your theory is just based on coincidence and imagination. I don’t think you realize just how absurd it all sounds ...”

  “How do I know you have the philosopher’s stone?” interrupted Rapunzel.

  “Emily has it. She can show it to you right now.”

  Rapunzel held out her hand. “Let’s see it.”

  Emily hesitated, then dug the leather pouch out of her handbag. The milky white stone dropped into Rapunzel’s palm. The girl looked at it carefully, then closed her fingers around it. “How do I know this is really a philosopher’s stone?”

  “Oh, for goodness sake.” Emily was exasperated now. “Why would we lie about it now? What does it look like?”

  “I’ve never seen a philosopher’s stone, so I wouldn’t know,” said Rapunzel stiffly. “Although this is what Torricelli said it would look like,” she admitted. “However, all knowledge is subjective, and even though this looks like a philosopher’s stone, can I really trust the evidence of my senses? When it comes right down to it, there’s no proof that an objective reality actually exists at all . . .”

  “You’re talking epistemology,” said Hal. “How much more proof do you need?”

  “Ah.” Rapunzel opened her hand and glared at the stone. “So I am. Very well.” She gave the stone back to Emily, then rose and went to a cupboard. The top shelf appeared to be filled with bottles of shampoo and conditioner. From it she took a small glass cylinder, which she brought back and set on the table by the candle. Emily picked it up and tilted it. The liquid inside flowed like quicksilver, but had a distinct reddish tinge.

  “Where was it?” asked Hal.

  “In the teapot. I knew it was magic because it was in a crystal vial.”

  “All right.” Hal looked at Emily. “Does this need any incantations or hand-waving done over it?”

  “No, not to my knowledge. All the magic is in the spinning wheel.”

  “Good. Rumpelstiltskin, you say this thing works at night?”

  “Midnight to dawn is what Torricelli mentioned to me.”

  “That will be magic time, not clock time,” said Emily. “Midnight is halfway between dusk and dawn.”

  “Okay then. That gives us a couple of hours to, um,” Hal looked at Rapunzel and cleared his throat. “To take care of this, ah, loss-of-virginity thing.”

  This came out somewhat flatter than he intended. There was an uneasy silence and an exchange of glances from everyone in the room. Rapunzel was still kneeling near the table. “Excuse me, Your Highness, was that last bit directed at me?”

  “Yes,” said Hal.

  “I see. And who are you proposing that I should give myself up to?”

  Hal cleared his throat and jerked a thumb at his chest.

  “I see. Well, I’m sorry, Your Highness. No offense is intended, but you are simply not my type.”

  “Say what?” said Hal.

  “I’m not ready for this. I suggest you leave the stone and wheel with me, and when the circumstances are appropriate I will send you your share of the gold.”

  “If you’re joking,” said Hal, “we don’t have time for it.”

  “I’m not joking. Now go away. I have my standards.”

  “Lower them. Think of the gold.”

  “Ooh Hal,” murmured Emily. “Bad move.”

  Rapunzel stood up, her fists clenched. “How dare you! I don’t know what kind of shiksas you’ve been dating, your Highness, but don’t expect the same behavior from me! I am not going to give myself up for a little gold ...”

  “Shiksas?” said Rumpelstiltskin.

  “Or a lot of gold, or any amount of gold and I will decide when I am ready to do
it and who I will do it with. Now get out!”

  She reached down to pick up the vial of red mercury. There was a quiet hiss and a thunk and the point of Hal’s sword entered the wood just next to her fingers. She looked up into Hal’s eyes. There was no anger in them, no flare of danger. They were just very, very tired. Rapunzel felt a sudden icy needle of fear penetrate her heart. She looked back down at the table and slowly drew her hand away from the vial.

  “Rapunzel, listen,” said Hal, and his voice was absolutely calm, perfectly pleasant, but somehow that seemed to make it threatening. “I know you’re a nice girl. I don’t know who came up with this nice-girls-don’t, bad-girls-do idea, or why there’s never a bad girl around when you need one. I’m sorry this has to be you. But it has to be done.”

  “Hal!” said Emily.

  “There is more at stake here than you realize. We need that gold, and we need it tonight.”

  “Hal, stop talking like this,” said Emily. “Can’t you see she’s afraid of you? You can’t pressure a girl like this. It’s like rape.”

  “When a commoner does it, it’s rape. When royalty does it, it’s seduction.”

  “Damn you, Hal!”

  Rapunzel stood up slowly. Her eyes were level with Hal’s. The Prince was leaning forward on his sword. Emily suddenly realized that he hadn’t drawn the sword to be threatening. He was using it to support his weight. She crossed the room and stood beside Rapunzel. “Hal, you can’t do this. This isn’t right. And aren’t you forgetting that you’re engaged to Caroline? You can do it with her.”

  Hal shook his head. “Too much of an unknown. You don’t know what kind of spell Torricelli put on that wheel. He set it up intending to use Rapunzel. It might work with Caroline. Hell, it will probably work with Caroline. But it will definitely work with Rapunzel. Isn’t that right?”

  Emily gritted her teeth, but nodded. She felt a shiver of fear herself, brought on by a sudden flash of insight. She understood now why Hal’s father sent him on the tough missions. It wasn’t just a matter of image. Beneath Hal’s dweebish surface was a core of iron, hard and cold.

  “Then we go with Rapunzel.” His voice became even quieter, almost a whisper. “We have one shot at this, and we can’t afford to take a chance. I really am sorry, Rapunzel. I wish there was time to ride back to Melinower and find a handsome guy for you. But there isn’t. You’ll just have to grit your teeth and bear it.”

 

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