Fantasy Kingdom XXI

by Lisa Anne Nisula

  There was a light splash as Katrine reached the water.

  “I’ve got her!” Katrine called.

  “Gently now, on three.” Melissina counted them down, then the four men started to pull, the blacksmith calling out “Heave-ho. Heave-ho,” keeping them in sync.

  The instant Elsbeth was visible, Marina leaned over the edge and caught hold of her. Charles and Phichorian guided Katrine’s shoulders so she wouldn’t bump against the sides, then helped her to sit on the edge of the well again. The blacksmith dropped his hold on the rope and lifted Katrine to the ground before untying her.

  Elsbeth was being smothered by her mother but managed to catch a glimpse of Melissina over her mother’s shoulder. She started to squirm until her mother let her go so she could run to the princess.

  Melissina saw what was coming and knelt to be at the girl’s level.

  “Are you the princess?” Elsbeth whispered the words like she didn’t dare speak them.

  Melissina smiled, “Yes.” She held her hand out.

  Elsbeth ran the rest of the way and hugged her.

  Melissina spoke softly. Charles heard something about balls and gowns. He drifted over to Phichorian and waited.

  Eventually Marina got Elsbeth untangled from Melissina and carried her away, murmuring about dry clothes. Elsbeth waved to Melissina over Marina’s shoulder. Melissina waved back. Elsbeth giggled and pushed her face against Marina’s shoulder.

  Melissina turned to Katrine and began to thank her for her help. Katrine left blushing and grinning almost as much as Elsbeth. Then Melissina turned to the men who had been on the rope. She thanked each for his work and his care, leaving them all looking sheepish.

  Only the blacksmith kept his head. “We are grateful for your help, but you have to go. We did call the guard and they will be here eventually.”

  “Yes, yes, you’re right. I have a horse hitched the post outside of the inn. Would you see he is taken care of? I think it’s safest if I disappear into the wagon. If a sprite named Bobble comes, send him down the mill road. Send anyone else up the crag road.” While she spoke, Melissina was walking briskly to the town square, Phichorian and Charles trotting behind her.

  “Very well, Your Highness.”

  Melissina climbed into the back of the wagon. The blacksmith was already unhitching it so Phichorian and Charles scrambled up themselves. As soon as Phichorian had the reins, Melissina started giving directions.

  The mill road passed the mill then looped behind the castle. Phichorian brought the wagon to a clearing not far from the edge of the trees, close enough that Charles could see the castle if he looked in just the right spot.

  Phichorian turned back to Melissina. “Should we wait here for Bobble?”

  Melissina peered out. “This will do. Get some rest,” and she pulled her head back in.

  Phichorian shrugged and leaned back, shading his eyes with his hat. Charles rested his arm on the back of the seat and used it to pillow his head.

  * * *

  Charles was awakened by a small pair of feet running across his head. It didn’t feel like a bug, but he swatted at it to be safe, then opened his eyes in time to see Bobble fly back and slam into Phichorian’s head. Phichorian sprang awake, feeling for his sword and knocking his hat to the ground. Melissina heard the commotion and poked her head out.

  Bobble looked a bit sheepish. “I’m back.”

  “We noticed,” Phichorian said as he climbed down to get his hat.

  “I just wanted to look in the wagon to be sure the princess was safe.”

  “It’s all right,” Charles said to stop Bobble from apologizing all afternoon.

  Phichorian dusted off his hat, “Just don’t walk on sleeping people again.”

  “The lesson has been learned.”

  Phichorian leaned against the side of the wagon. “Well, what did you find out?”

  Bobble landed on the back of the seat. “The whole wall has been fortified. They have a guard at every post along the top.”

  “Will the sweater be any help?” Melissina asked.

  Bobble shook his head. “It doesn’t look like they have modified the outer wall in any way. They are using the defenses that were already in place.”

  Phichorian nodded. “I’m not surprised.”

  Melissina was not as optimistic. “Father had the walls fortified when we went to war with Necorious.”

  Phichorian shrugged. “Necorious got into the city; we’ll manage it too. We just need a good plan.”

  Melissina changed the subject. “Did you get close to the castle?”

  “As far as the inner gates. I saw a disreputable-looking man in a battered coat come. He spoke to the captain of the guards and they changed the men on the walls. None of the replacements seemed very intelligent, which suggests they are shades. That is why I was so worried; I thought you had been betrayed in the village and they were coming after you.”

  Melissina shook her head. “That was someone from Vale-Royal, but he was reporting a missing child.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “She’s safe,” Melissina said quickly. “She was trapped in a well.”

  “Oh.”

  Charles added, “We got her out. Melissina organized it.”

  Bobble relaxed a bit. “That is good.”

  Melissina went on. “We still have to think of some way to get in. If only Father were here. He’s brilliant at planning campaigns.”

  “You’re good too,” Charles offered. “You got Elsbeth out of the well.”

  “That was nothing, just putting the right people in the right places.” And she pulled the curtain closed again.

  Charles climbed down and went looking for Phichorian, who had taken his hat and his harp and wandered over to a flat rock a few feet away, where he was fiddling with the harp strings.

  Charles sat beside Phichorian. “Why doesn’t she get that that’s what makes her such a good ruler?”

  Phichorian shrugged. “She’s too caught up in trying to be a knight like Regulous so she can defend the realm and be a hero.”

  “I’m the one with the magic sweater, I should be the knight.”

  “Mmm.”

  Charles turned to him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing, nothing at all.”

  “You think I should quit trying to be a knight too.”

  “You said it yourself. She could be a hero if she was herself. So could you. You’re not a knight. So what? We had one of those and he left. We just have to figure out what you are.”

  “That’s the trouble. I’m just a kid who misses his mom and plays video games.”

  “What else are you good at?”

  “I dunno.” Charles rested his head on his knees. “I guess I know what people are really saying.”

  “What?”

  He looked up. “You know, like my mom said I shouldn’t wear the sweater since I might get cake on it and couldn’t wear it to school the next day, and I knew she meant I should wear the sweater and get cake on it so I’d have an excuse not to wear it to school. Pretty heroic, huh?”

  “You’re not telling it right.” Phichorian played a few notes. “The lad was plagued by a hideous sweater, torture beyond endurance. A riddle was placed before him...”

  Charles smiled a little. “You’re impossible, you know that.”

  “A riddle to solve, to prevent his disgrace...”

  Charles grabbed Phichorian’s hat and threw it at him.

  “Hey, mind the harp.”

  “It still doesn’t help us.”

  “Unfortunately no, it doesn’t. We’re just not that scary.” Phichorian sighed.

  They sat in silence, watching the wagon until Phichorian said, “We’re not that scary,” in a very different voice.

  “That’s it, isn’t it? That’s our strength.”

  “It is. I just have to think. How will it sound? ‘They crept up to the back gate...’ No, they’ll think we have something to hide. ‘Boldly to
the front gate the little band did ride.’ Better, better.” Phichorian lay back, looking at the clouds. “Go ask Melissina if she can dance.”

  Charles got up and went to the wagon to relay Phichorian’s question.

  “Dance? How? Why?”

  “He just asked if you could dance.”

  Melissina climbed out of the wagon and stretched. “What kind of dancing?”

  Charles went back to Phichorian. It took two tries to get his attention.

  “Market dancing. Like the gypsies. With a veil over her face.”

  Back to Melissina. “Market dancing.”

  “He’s mad.”

  “Definitely.”

  “Tell him I can fake it, I think.”

  Back he went to relay that message.

  “Fake it you say. Fake it. Yes, that works. We’re not very good. That would explain it. We’re not good enough to play in the safer, more lucrative venues, so we came here to try and drum up some business. Very good. I’ll loosen a string or two on the lute. We don’t want to be bad, they won’t believe it. Just not good. Now what can you do?”

  Charles attempted a joke. “Weren’t we just discussing that?”

  “Then you can be an apprentice, pass the hat, watch the crowd. How does that sound?”

  “I should be able to handle that.”

  “Great, then you’ll need a disguise too. You can’t walk around in a sprite sweater or foreign clothes. There’s probably something in the wagon. We’ll have to put together something for Melissina too. Can’t have her recognized in town.” Phichorian strode back to the wagon and climbed in. Charles followed him.

  Melissina hung around the opening. “So was the dancing question strictly informational or part of some wonderful plan to get Father free?”

  Phichorian was rifling through the packs and piles in the back. “It’s a brilliant plan, I just don’t know all of the details yet.”

  “One of those plans.”

  “They work out, most of the time. We’ll be a small band of traveling entertainers. We’ll do a small show and I’ll take every chance I get to explore. Charles, put this on over your sweater.” He handed Charles an old tunic that had been left in the wagon. “Before you ask, I do the exploring because I’ve spent more time in town than either of you.”

  “And then?”

  “It depends on what we find there. How will this work for a head scarf?”

  Melissina caught the cloth he tossed to her. “There’s only one thing that worries me.”

  Phichorian sighed. “Amertious.”

  She nodded. “I wish I knew how much he felt obligated to tell his new liege. We don’t know if Necorious knows the sweater works or what its power is, or about the Kingstone.”

  “It’s a chance we’ll have to take, I suppose. That’s why I will be searching, they don’t know me, or at least they wouldn’t notice me.”

  “And Bobble will have to stay hidden.”

  “I understand, Your Highness.”

  “So do I.” Melissina wrapped the cloth around her hair and lower face. “Well?”

  Phichorian climbed down and adjusted the fabric. “Excellent. Just needs one small touch.” He twisted the fabric around his hands and got the same distant look he’d had when he was working the firepot. As Charles watched, Melissina's hair got darker, her eyes a little smaller, and the shape of her cheekbones changed. She saw his reaction.

  “What are you doing to me, Phichorian?”

  “Not a thing. It’s much easier to enchant the scarf.” He dropped the fabric. “All done, and much better than a mask.”

  Melissina took the scarf off and turned to Charles.

  “Back to normal,” Charles confirmed.

  Melissina smiled. “Very impressive, not that I doubted you.”

  “Naturally not.” Phichorian pretended to be offended.

  “We should go now.”

  Phichorian nodded. “Best to get it over with. Come on, Charles. You ride up front with me again.”

  Chapter 17

  As they approached the town gates, it all seemed eerily familiar to Charles. Everything reminded him of his other trips into the town, the dim light, the twilight shadows, the walls appearing out of the gloom, and he knew it shouldn’t have. All of his other trips into town, all but the successful trip, when the princess and the castle were both safe, had been at night, or at least in the evening. It was barely noon, the sun should have been shining, was shining everywhere but around the castle. Then Charles figured it out, the shades of course. He glanced at Phichorian, but the bard was the picture of relaxed nonchalance.

  “Is creating darkness a common spell?”

  Phichorian didn’t stop smiling. “Actually it’s drawing out all of the light, much harder than creating a little point of light. But a simple, harmless entertainer like me wouldn’t know about such things.” Phichorian’s smile didn’t waiver as he pulled the wagon into the line waiting to be inspected before being let in.

  The line for the town gate moved slowly. The longer they waited, the more nervous Charles felt.

  “It’s all right,” Phichorian murmured. “It looks pretty standard.”

  A burly guard came to the wagon. “The two of you?”

  “And the lovely Elsbeth, Mistress of the Dance, inside.”

  “Entertainers.” He snorted. “You sing I suppose. And the boy?”

  “My apprentice.”

  “How long are you staying?”

  “Just a short stop on the way to the spring festivals. A couple days at most.”

  The guard shrugged. “Go on in.”

  Phichorian snapped the reins. “Thank you kindly.” He urged the horses on, keeping them at a quick pace without being obviously in a hurry.

  They rode into town through half empty streets. The people who were out kept their heads down and hurried to their destinations, like they didn’t want to be out any more than they had to. There were soldiers at every major intersection, and many at other random spots. Charles could quickly tell the difference between those who had been absorbed into Necorious’s army from other places and those who had chosen to join Necorious by the way they watched the people. Those who were career soldiers glanced at people, but left them alone; those loyal to Necorious stared at the townspeople, stopping anyone who so much as looked at them to ask where they were going and why.

  Phichorian had a knack for choosing the safest streets and looking so completely harmless that he got them through to the center of town without being stopped once. There was more activity in the main square since the market was still there, and everyone still needed to buy and sell food and other supplies. As they slowed near one of the inns just off the main square, Charles saw three little kids hanging out by a bakery. “Players!” one of them yelled.

  “I’ll handle it,” Phichorian murmured. He called to the boys, “Where can I hitch the horses?”

  They hung back, then ran forward. “This way!” the oldest called. “We’ll show you.”

  Phichorian pulled the wagon to the hitching post and climbed down. “How much are those meat pies?”

  “Two coppers each,” the oldest answered.

  “Here boy.” Phichorian carefully counted six small coins into Charles’s hand. “Get us three of those.” He pointed to the small stand.

  Charles caught on at once and fell into the role of the apprentice. “Yes, sir.” He took the coins and ran to the stand.

  * * *

  By the time Charles got back, Phichorian had hitched the wagon and was attracting the attention of passers-by. Charles offered him all three pies. Phichorian chose one for himself. “Bring one to the fair Elsbeth then take one yourself.”

  “Yes, sir.” Charles balanced the pies in one hand as he climbed in the back.

  Melissina helped him in. “Is Phichorian enjoying being the benevolent despot?”

  “I think so. Which do you want?”

  “Left.”

  Charles handed it over and took a bite out
of his. “What do I do during the show?”

  “Pass the hat. Just like it sounds. Phichorian will give you a hat and you’ll walk around after each number and try to get coins. Don’t try too hard since we don’t need the money.”

  “Sounds easy enough.”

  They ate in silence for a few minutes, then Charles said what he’d been wanting to since Amertious left. The only question was how to phrase it. “Sorry about your boyfriend.”

  “What? Oh, you mean my betrothed.” Melissina shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter.”

  “You must be disappointed.”

  “Royal marriages, royal betrothals, aren’t like everyone else’s. We don’t marry for love, but for the good of the people. We don’t just throw a party and pick whoever’s handsomest. There’s planning, alliances to be considered, the protection of the kingdom — a lot has to be taken into consideration for the good of the realm.”

  “He was certainly good for the realm.”

  “What?”

  This was the tricky part. “Amertious abandoned you at the first sign something wasn’t going his way. You should pick someone who’ll stick by you no matter what.” Charles got very interested in his food.

  “Did you have someone in mind?”

  Charles was very tempted to say yes, but he didn’t think Melissina would take the suggestion well. He settled on, “Why, did you?”

  Melissina looked thoughtful. Charles took that as a good sign. He went to the opening at the back of the wagon and pretended to be looking for Phichorian.

  Phichorian gave them half an hour to eat, then he hit the side of the wagon and poked his head inside. “Ready?”

  “Whenever you are,” Melissina answered.

  “We’ll just do a couple of songs, three at most, then I’ll find an excuse to look around. Come on Charles.”

  Charles hopped down. Phichorian handed Charles his hat with two coins already in it. Charles took it to the edge of the performance area. Phichorian played a few loud notes, then an introduction.