Princess of the Wild Swans

by Diane Zahler

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Mistress Tuileach murmured.

  “We believe that it would be best if Princess Meriel were to go away to school.”

  I looked at Father, horrified.

  “Indeed,” Lady Orianna inserted smoothly, “I myself was schooled at Madame Clodagh’s School for Young Ladies of Nobility, and I know they would be honored to have you as a student. It is a beautiful place, on the coast in a very natural and isolated setting. Their instructors are of the highest quality. And there, my dear, you would learn all things necessary and appropriate to your rank.”

  No! No! I wanted to scream. I clapped a hand to my mouth to keep the words back, but Lady Orianna heard them as clearly as if I had shouted them aloud, and she smiled a terrible smile. She knew I could not protest, and that Father would take my silence for acceptance.

  I tried to catch Father’s eye. Surely he would not allow me to be sent away if he knew how I felt! But his expression was so complacent, his eyes so blank and dull. He could not see the distress written on my face at all. He was too deep in the queen’s thrall. It is not betrayal, I told myself. He cannot help it.

  I felt Mistress Tuileach’s light touch on my shoulder, and I held myself very still.

  “I shall get the princess’s belongings ready for travel,” Mistress Tuileach said. “When does she depart?”

  “Tomorrow,” Lady Orianna said lightly. “Parting will be difficult enough; it is best not to draw these things out. And your services, of course, will no longer be needed.”

  Mistress Tuileach bowed her head. She curtsied once more, her hand pushing me into a curtsy as well. And then we fled the throne room.

  Back in my bedchamber, I paced back and forth like a caged beast. What shall I do? I implored Mistress Tuileach. I cannot abandon my brothers. There is no one else to help them!

  “You must leave this place,” she answered as she pulled out two leather satchels from my closet.

  Yes, I realized. We will go to Riona and Liam. They will take us in.

  “The queen will search for you,” Mistress Tuileach warned.

  Their cottage is hidden, well off the main road, I told her. You and I will be safe there—for a time.

  “No, Princess, I cannot go with you,” Mistress Tuileach said gently. “I will go elsewhere, to throw her off the scent. She will expect us to be together, for I believe that she sees me truly now, and knows what I am.”

  Oh, Mistress Tuileach, I said mournfully. But I knew she was right. It was better for us both—and for my brothers, and Riona and Liam—if we were separated.

  We packed a satchel for each of us and hid them away, and then I spent the day sewing and sewing as Mistress Tuileach folded my clothes and placed them in great traveling trunks to be sent to the school where I would not follow. I thought regretfully of my brothers, waiting for me all day at the lake, and of Riona and Liam. They would wonder where I was, but I knew they would be wise enough to stay away from the castle.

  Do you think, I asked Mistress Tuileach as I stitched, that Lady Orianna really plans to send me to school, or does she intend to turn me into a bird as she did my brothers? Or something worse, perhaps—an eel? Or a horrid sightless mole?

  “I don’t know, Princess,” Mistress Tuileach admitted. “But I think it would not be a good idea to wait and find out.”

  When evening fell, we ate together in my bedchamber. Then I rolled up the shirts and pushed them and my pincushion and thimble into my satchel, and we crept out of the room and down the hall to Cullan’s bedchamber. I opened the window and pointed out the thick vine to Mistress Tuileach. She whispered, “Take care, child!” before I lowered myself, hand over hand, to the ground. Mistress Tuileach tossed the satchels to me; mine was light and I caught it handily, but hers knocked me right over.

  What do you have in there? I asked her, irritated, as I picked myself up.

  She gripped the vine and whispered back, “One cannot leave one’s favorite books, Princess!” The ivy swayed and she gasped as she climbed down the vine, inch by painful inch. At last she reached the bottom, where she stood motionless for a moment to regain her composure.

  “I am far too old for such goings-on,” she muttered, picking up her bag.

  You are not old in the least, I assured her. Indeed, in the cold moonlight—for the clouds had blown away—with her face flushed from exertion, she looked almost young and very nearly pretty.

  As we headed toward the lane, a figure stepped out of the shadows, and I stopped, my heart beating wildly. The moonlight shone on the red jacket and gold epaulets of a guard, and for a moment I thought all was lost. Then I realized it was Ogan, and I breathed again.

  “Princess!” he said, very low. “I must tell you that you are in great danger.”

  Mistress Tuileach looked at me, and I said to her, We can trust him. He is one of ours.

  Mistress Tuileach spoke for me. “We know the queen’s intentions, young sir,” she said. “We are fleeing for our very lives.”

  “You do not know it all,” Ogan said softly. “I have overheard something.”

  “What is it?” Mistress Tuileach asked.

  He looked around nervously, then said, “The queen was speaking to one of her own men. I walked past with a company of guards, and she did not realize I wasn’t one of hers. I heard her say . . .” His voice, dismayed, trailed off.

  “Speak, boy!” Mistress Tuileach demanded in a low tone.

  “She described a pact she has made with the creatures of Faerie. She intends to have a son and put him on the throne. She did not say what would happen to the king, but I imagine . . .” Again he stopped speaking, and I began to tremble.

  “Go on,” Mistress Tuileach insisted.

  “Under her son’s reign, the doors between the lands below and our lands will be opened. All of Faerie will come aboveground, and they will rule us.”

  My eyes widened in alarm, and Mistress Tuileach gasped with shock.

  “Her guards know her wicked intention and will help her,” Ogan continued. “I think some of them are not even human. Princess, I fear she has killed your brothers, and will kill you as well if she can.”

  “Guard,” Mistress Tuileach told him, “the princes are not dead, and Princess Meriel is working to save them.”

  Ogan looked astonished, and Mistress Tuileach said, “I will not tell you more, for it is dangerous for you to have that knowledge. But your words help us, for now we know all. Before, we were not clear about her intention, and so we did not know the full danger. We are grateful to you.” Ogan bowed, and she went on, “If you dare to stay here, you must guard your thoughts around the queen, for she can hear them as clearly as if you speak them. Do not let her know what you know, if you value your life.”

  “If the princess needs me, I will be here,” he vowed. “If I can, I will be her ears inside the castle, and for her sake, I will take care.” I curtsied low to him, and he bowed again before turning back to the castle.

  At the first branch in the lane Mistress Tuileach and I parted. She hugged me hard and I wept a little, clutching her. “Do not despair, Princess,” she said tenderly. “I have the utmost confidence in you. And do not forget this: your love for your brothers is your greatest power.”

  I shall not forget, I promised her.

  “Until we meet again, then,” she said, and pressed a kiss on my brow. I watched her walk away until the night swallowed her up. Then I continued on my way.

  I was ever ready to leap off the lane into a ditch should anyone appear, but even with the moonlight it was dark and very cold, and all wise travelers were indoors by their fires. No one passed me as I walked, and I quickly reached Riona and Liam’s cottage. Liam opened the door to my soft knock, his expression greatly surprised. His hand was wrapped in a bandage.

  “Meriel!” he exclaimed, stepping aside to let me in. “Why are you out at this hour? And why did you not come to the lake today? We were worried—what’s happened?”

  I warmed my hands
by the fire as Riona brought me hot tea and bade me sit and be welcome. The rabbit hopped from his favorite nook and sat beside me. Numbly, I told of the queen’s plan to send me off to school, and then related what Ogan had overheard.

  “It all makes sense,” Riona murmured. “Even now, the doors between Faerie and our lands are opening. In town, the blacksmith said he’d seen a púca—do you know what that is?”

  It is a kind of ghost, isn’t it? I asked.

  “Yes, ghostlike and shape-shifting both. He saw it as a black horse with golden eyes. It frightened him terribly.”

  Liam added, “He said the púca tried to get him to ride it. If he had . . . well, we would not have seen him again.”

  And this is the queen’s doing?

  “I do not know,” Riona admitted. “But it seems that the world below is coming closer to us, and if she has sworn to open those doors . . .” She shuddered, and I did too.

  I cannot go back to the castle. I have nowhere else to go, I admitted. May I stay with you?

  “Of course you must stay here!” Riona assured me. “We can keep you hidden, for a time at least. But you cannot go out.”

  No, I said to her regretfully. I cannot see my brothers, and you should not either, for the queen knows you.

  “I can visit them,” Liam pointed out. “She doesn’t know me. I’ll go to the lake each day and tell them how you fare, and I can report on them to you.” I turned grateful eyes to him, and he gave me his quick sweet grin. I was growing very fond of that grin.

  “Let me bring your bag upstairs,” he said. “Riona can show you where you’ll stay.”

  I rose, and we climbed the narrow staircase to the floor above, low ceilinged under the slanted roof. There were three closed doors at the top of the stair, two that I guessed opened to Liam’s and their mother’s rooms and one that Riona opened to reveal her bedchamber.

  “We will have to share,” Riona said apologetically. I gazed around at the tiny space. A white-painted iron bedstead stood before the window, and there was room only for a simple oak chest and a little table besides. I thought of my own bedchamber, enormous compared to this. For a moment I wondered why they did not put me in their mother’s room, giving me some privacy. Then I realized that sharing the little room with Riona would be a hundred times nicer than being alone in the other room, and a thousand times nicer than being in my own lonely bedchamber, with the queen lurking downstairs and only Mistress Tuileach for company.

  This will be very cozy, I said with approval. Liam grinned again, setting my satchel atop the wooden chest.

  “We’ll leave you to get settled,” Riona said. “Come down when you are ready; I’ve made some soup.”

  They clattered down the stairs, and I unpacked my few belongings, glad that I had brought so little. Even so, my silver comb and mirror looked gaudy atop the little table, and I pushed them into the chest with my extra overdress. As I laid my nightdress on the bed, I heard the sound of footsteps outside, and my heart leaped. The bedchamber was under the eaves in the front of the cottage, so its window looked out on the path that led to the front door. I squeezed by the bed, and standing to the side so I could not be seen from without, I peered through the window.

  A woman was coming up the path. In the moonlight I could see that she was cloaked, but her hood was pulled up against the cold, so I could not make out her face. I sagged against the wall in terror. Had Lady Orianna learned of my disappearance already? How could she have found me so quickly?

  There was a pounding at the front door, and I bit down on my knuckle to keep from crying out. Liam’s boots were loud as he walked across the front room, and quick as a flash I dove beneath the iron bedstand. Then I remembered my satchel holding the nettle shirts, open on top of the chest, and I scrambled back out to grab it. I pushed my nightdress inside as well. Clutching the satchel to me, I scurried back under the bed. A sudden movement at my feet made me gasp, and the stoat slithered up to settle itself beside me, its black eyes gazing into mine. There we waited, the stoat and I, my heart hammering in my ears, as I heard Liam open the door.

  9

  The Fire:

  And What Was Destroyed

  Mother!” Liam cried from downstairs, his voice joyful, and I heard Riona echo him: “Mother! You’ve returned!”

  I lay limp with relief on the dusty floor beneath the bed. I could not move. The rush of fear and then its disappearance had left me utterly weakened. Even when I heard Liam dash up the staircase and open the door to the bedchamber, I could not stir.

  “Meriel?” he said, confused when he did not see me. Then he bent down, and his face came into view.

  “What on earth are you doing?” he asked, his blue eyes amused. “Is this a time for hide-and-seek?”

  I scowled at him, willing my trembling limbs to push me out. Then I saw understanding in his face.

  “Ah,” he said in sympathy. “You thought it was the queen. No wonder you were frightened! But it is just our mother, home at last, kicking at the door because she had no hand free to open it.”

  I was not frightened in the least, I retorted crossly, my pride giving me the strength to crawl from my hiding place. I stirred up dust as I moved, and it made me sneeze violently. The stoat sneezed as well, and Liam started to laugh as I struggled to stand. “We are not the best housekeepers,” he admitted. “Especially when Mother is away.”

  I ignored him as I brushed the dust from my skirt, trying to preserve what remained of my dignity. When the stoat and I both sneezed again, though, I started to laugh with Liam, keeping my giggles silent as my shoulders heaved. It felt so good to be merry, after all the days of work and worry!

  Finally Liam wiped his eyes and bent to pick up the stoat, which was grooming the dust off its shiny fur. “Come down and meet Mother,” he said, placing the stoat on his shoulder. “She knows all about you and is very eager to make your acquaintance.”

  Knows all about me? How? I asked him, following him down the narrow stair.

  “Well, she’s a witch, Meriel,” he pointed out, and I had to suppress another laugh.

  In the main room, Liam and Riona’s mother was bustling about, plumping up a cushion here, straightening a curtain there. She stopped when she saw me and came forward to take my hands in hers. She was a short, round woman with the same dark curls and azure eyes as her children. Her dress, like her daughter’s, was undyed linen, and she wore a string of aromatic herbs around her neck. The pockets of her apron were stuffed with dried plants, and a lovely scent of sage and lavender rose from her. Her cheeks were red from the cold, but her hands were warm, and her greeting was warmer still.

  “Princess Meriel, welcome to our home!” she exclaimed. “I am Brigh, the mother of these two wild things.” She motioned to Riona and Liam, who made faces of embarrassment. “Your Highness, I met your governess on the road to Corbrack. We had a quick cup of tea at an inn there, and spoke of your troubles.” She turned my palms upward and looked at their ruddy roughness. I saw great sympathy in her expression. “How you have struggled, poor dear!”

  Is Mistress Tuileach well? I asked her silently, and she heard me clearly.

  “Yes, child, she is well enough, but worried for you. I had not known her before, but—well, like recognizes like, you know!” She beamed at me and went on, “When she learned who I was, she told me all. Oh, your task is formidable, my dear! And you keep at it, though I can see it has caused you much suffering.”

  I pulled back my hands and shrugged. It has not been so bad, I said.

  “Ah, your governess said you were brave! She told me of the queen and her enchantment, and her fearsome plan. I had already heard of the lady Orianna. Your stepmother is legendary in our circles—this is not her first wicked act!”

  No? I said with great interest. What else has she done?

  Brigh pulled me to the chairs by the crackling fire, and we sat. Liam brought me my sewing, and I began stitching. Liam and Riona sprawled on the rug beside us, and the rabbit hopp
ed around them.

  “Well,” Brigh said, “she was thwarted in love, they say. This was very long ago, for she is far older than she looks! So are we all, we witches.” Her eyes twinkled. “The unlucky prince who did not choose her for a wife—no one knows just what became of him. The stories say that she placed him on an enchanted isle, where he wanders to this day weeping for her and calling out her name. It is clear she is a woman who is dangerous to cross!”

  I shuddered to imagine the poor prince, pacing his lonely island and calling hopelessly for Lady Orianna. Will she find me here? I asked nervously, stitching away.

  “I can help protect you, I think,” said Brigh. “You are safer here than most other places, at any rate.”

  That was not especially comforting to hear, but I was distracted from my worries by the sight of the rabbit nose to nose with a small cat face that peeked out from beneath Brigh’s skirts.

  Is that one of yours? I asked Liam. He shook his head.

  “I help the wild animals,” he said. “A cat is a pet—or a familiar. And a terrible cliché in this household. Really, Mother!”

  Brigh smiled, reaching down to lift the cat—no more than a kitten, really—into her lap. “Ah, but this one was wounded. A thorn in its paw, like the lion that Androcles found. I couldn’t leave it to suffer, could I?” She leaned toward me and said in a confidential tone, “My son will not name any of his animals, for he says they all have their own forest or meadow names, and it is not our place to give them new ones. But I have named them all.” She pointed to each in turn. “The rabbit is Coinin, the stoat I call Easog, the thrush is Molach, and Madame Crow is Macha. But my cat, dear tabby, is just called Catkin.” The kitten meowed as if replying, and I wondered if it actually was a familiar, a witch’s helper, rather than just an ordinary cat.

  We talked, and I sewed until I was too tired to see my stitches. I had now finished two of the five shirts, and I held them up to admire my work. Liam snorted at the first. It had one sleeve considerably longer than the other and barely looked like clothing at all, but the second was better—quite recognizably a shirt.