More Than a Princess

by E. D. Baker

  “Is Craiger right?” the king asked Aislin.

  “I can’t say,” she replied, although she knew that the stream changed direction in just a little while.

  The forest was thick on both banks, so the men walked their horses into the water and headed upstream. The man who’d grabbed Aislin dismounted, but when she tried to get off as well, he ordered her to stay. Thankfully, as the men focused on walking their horses across the slippery rocks, she was the only one who noticed the water nymph peeking out at them from under a clump of water lilies. She was also the only one who noticed the tiny fairies glaring at them from the iris blossoms that edged the stream. Aislin was so afraid that the men might spot the magical creatures that she held her breath each time they passed one, but they didn’t seem to notice anything unusual at all.

  It wasn’t long before the stream meandered away from the castle, angling farther afield with each turn. After a short discussion, the men turned their horses around to retrace their steps, but the water was suddenly deeper and the current too swift for the animals to keep their footing. Aislin knew right away that the water nymphs were trying to help, but she was afraid the men would become suspicious if this went on too long. She was relieved when they left the stream and started looking for another way through the forest.

  The group was following an old, faint trail through the woods when Aislin spotted tiny fairies peeking out from under rhododendron leaves. When a horse shied, she glanced down at the ground. A vine was creeping across the forest floor even as she watched.

  “No!” Aislin shouted. The fairies looked confused, but they stopped making the vine grow.

  “No, what?” asked the man in front of her.

  Aislin caught herself, wishing she hadn’t spoken out loud. “No, we shouldn’t go that way,” she told him.

  “And why is that?” asked the man.

  “Because that leads to a swamp,” she said, then gave herself a mental kick. The swamp would have been perfect; they could easily have lost their way.

  “Somehow, I doubt that you’re really trying to be helpful,” said the king. “Perhaps that’s the way we should go. Ride on, gentlemen.”

  Aislin forced herself not to smile. If she was lucky, the men would get lost in the swamp and she could get away from them. Or even if they didn’t get lost, getting stuck in the swamp would delay them, giving her mother time to get the castle ready.

  A mockingbird landed on a branch near Aislin, cocking its head to look at her. When it flew off in a flutter of wings, Aislin was certain that the bird was reporting to the fey at the castle. She sighed, wishing once again that she could talk to birds so she could find out what was going on at home. Although her mother would have sent word about the humans to Fairengar right away, Aislin doubted that help could arrive any time soon.

  Aislin knew news of the humans must be spreading when she saw ogres moving among the shadows in a darker patch of the forest. Instead of being loud and pushy as they usually were, they actually seemed to be hiding. If the humans saw ogres lurking in the woods, it would be as bad as seeing fairies flitting around, and Aislin wasn’t about to let it happen.

  She knew that the stubborn ogres probably wouldn’t listen, even if she could warn them off, so she decided to try a different approach. As they often froze in place when she sang in the Great Hall, she knew it would work, but she couldn’t sing one of her usual songs. It would have to be one that didn’t include any references to fairies, pedrasi, or any other kind of fey. All she could come up with was a song for small children about a naughty bunny who was caught stealing carrots. Aislin put her heart into the simple melody. The ogres had been edging toward the riders, but at the first few notes they froze and went glassy-eyed. The horses kept walking, but the humans all turned to look at her.

  Aislin sang the song through three times. By the time she’d stopped, they were well past the woods where the ogres were lurking and had reached the edge of the swamp.

  “We appreciate the serenade, but I’d like to know why you sang just then,” said the king.

  Aislin shrugged. “I like to sing,” she told him.

  “And well you should,” said the king. “You have the voice of an angel. I could listen to you every day. But right now, it occurs to me that you might be trying to warn someone of our approach. No more singing, understand?”

  Aislin nodded. She didn’t need to sing now. The ogres weren’t likely to follow them into the Great Mud-Sucking Swamp.

  “By my reckoning, the castle is in that direction,” said Craiger.

  Aislin looked where he was pointing. Craiger was right; the castle was straight ahead. If they hadn’t had to go through the swamp, it wouldn’t have taken them long to get there.

  Aislin had to admit that the man was good at finding his way through terrain he’d never seen before. When they reached a series of shallow-looking pools, he stopped at the edge and shook his head. “I don’t like the look of this water,” he said. “We’ll go around.”

  A younger man with a sharp nose and curly brown hair urged his horse forward. “You’re overly cautious, Craiger. Do you see how shallow it is? I say we ride across and save ourselves some time.”

  He was moving his horse toward the water when the king said, “Halt! I trust Craiger’s judgment. If he says we go around, then that is what we’ll do.”

  Craiger turned to the younger man. “We won’t go near this water for a number of reasons. First, notice how there is no plant life near the edge? Nothing is growing within two feet of the water. Second, there is nothing swimming in or on the water. If this was a normal pond, we should see fish in the water or insects on the surface. Either there is something we can’t see living in this water, or the water itself is dangerous.”

  This man is smart and too observant, Aislin thought as the riders followed him around the edge of the pond. He might be the most dangerous.

  Craiger kept the men to the narrow strips of land that divided one pond from another. Sometimes the land was fairly solid, but in other spots it was little more than slippery mud that made slurping sounds every time a horse lifted its hooves. The route Craiger chose switched back and forth across the swamp, ultimately leading to the far side where ponds and mud gave way to forest once again.

  It was dusk by then, and growing dark under the trees. Unfortunately, the party was close enough to see a warm glow just above the treetops. Aislin knew that it was the setting sun reflecting off the white castle, something she normally thought was beautiful, but hated the sight of now. There was no turning the hunters aside, not with the castle itself showing them the way.

  Chapter 5

  Although Aislin had hoped that the castle guards would have raised the drawbridge, it looked just as it usually did, with the bridge down and two guards on either side of the portcullis. As far as she could tell, the only difference was that, instead of their typical fairy silver, the guards wore dull-gray helmets that covered their pointed fairy ears and bulky, padded clothes that concealed their slender fairy bodies.

  “Who goes there?” called one of the guards.

  “King Tyburr of Morain,” replied one of the king’s escorts.

  A shadow moved inside the courtyard as someone ran to spread the word that a human king was at their gates. The guards beckoned the humans in, giving a nod to Aislin as they passed. She looked around as the horses clattered across the drawbridge and into the courtyard beyond. Unlike the normal bustle of activity, there was hardly anyone about. Even odder, she was surprised to see two figures standing at the top of the castle steps, dressed as the king and queen. Of course, neither of them were her parents.

  Larch, the fairy nursemaid, was dressed as the queen. A white veil covered her pointed ears and a padded gown disguised her slender figure. Looking more closely at the pretend king standing beside her, Aislin realized it was Nurlue. Aislin didn’t recognize him at first because he had shaved off his long beard—a real sacrifice for a pedrasi.

  The humans seeme
d wary, keeping their hands on their swords while they looked around, as if they expected an ambush from any direction. The fake king and queen were smiling, however, and did their best to look pleased to see them. “Welcome to our home!” Nurlue exclaimed. “I am King Nurlue and this is my wife, Queen Larch.” Though Aislin knew their true features, she was impressed with their disguises; Nurlue passed as a short human with a round body and a rather large nose.

  “I am King Tyburr of Morain,” said the human king as he studied his hosts. “It is kind of you to welcome uninvited strangers. Not everyone would.” He turned and nodded to the man who had lifted Aislin onto his horse. At pressure from the man’s legs, the horse started forward. “We encountered this young lady in the woods. She saved me from an attacking bear. I would like to commend you on the bravery of your very special daughter.”

  Larch reached toward Aislin. “An attacking bear?” she asked, worry in her eyes.

  This seemed to please the human king. When the horse stopped beside him, he leaned toward Aislin. “I wasn’t sure you were a princess until just now. Your mother’s concern is obvious.”

  Aislin made a strangled sound and slipped off the horse. She darted up the steps, where Larch caught her in her arms. Furtively, she whispered, “Be careful of the king and the man with red hair. They’re both smart and observant.”

  Larch gave her a tiny nod. “Are you all right?” she whispered back.

  “I’m fine,” Aislin replied, and turned around to see one of King Tyburr’s men leading the horse bearing the deer carcass forward.

  “We did not know that we had entered your kingdom and that we were hunting on your land,” declared King Tyburr. “This buck belongs to you. I apologize for taking it without your permission.”

  Nurlue’s smile faltered, but he quickly recovered and waved his hand, as if killing the deer didn’t bother him at all. “Under the circumstances, such a mistake is understandable,” he said, although he avoided looking at Sure Foot.

  On an ordinary evening, fairy lights lit up the courtyard when darkness fell, but Queen Maylin seemed to have thought of everything. Fairies wearing helmets emerged from the lower castle doors to light torches placed in sconces on the walls. Aislin crinkled her nose at the smell, and Larch sniffed as if she too smelled something bad.

  Nurlue glanced at the sky, then turned back to King Tyburr. “It is growing dark. Won’t you join us for supper and a comfortable night’s rest?”

  King Tyburr smiled, although it wasn’t warm or friendly. “We would be pleased to accept your gracious offer,” he said, his hand still lingering by his sword. “We have traveled far with little to eat, and my men and I would appreciate a good meal.”

  King Tyburr dismounted, handing his reins to one of his men. Aislin backed away as he started up the steps. She waited while Craiger and the other men hurried after their king, then followed them to make sure that none were left behind to snoop.

  The aroma of roasting food wafted from the kitchen, hurrying the hunters’ steps. When they reached the Great Hall, the men were directed to seats at a table off to the side, while King Tyburr was escorted onto the dais with the royal family. A place had already been laid for him beside Nurlue, leaving Aislin to sit beside Larch. Aislin was relieved that there was no sign of her mother or brother, and that all the fairies were wearing some sort of disguise to cover their pointed ears and slender bodies. Sprinkled among the fairies were a few of the taller pedrasi, but none of them were seated near enough that the humans could inspect them closely.

  A servant was pouring wine into their chalices when King Tyburr turned to Nurlue, remarking, “Your kingdom is very secluded and difficult to find.”

  “We like it that way,” Nurlue replied. “It’s peaceful here.”

  “Do you get many visitors?” asked King Tyburr.

  Nurlue shook his head. “You’re the first in a long time.”

  Or ever, thought Aislin.

  King Tyburr took a sip of wine, and nodded his approval. “Do you ever travel beyond your borders?” he finally asked.

  “Not in many years,” Nurlue told him.

  “And why is that?” King Tyburr asked.

  “The rest of the world holds no attraction for me. I have everything I need right here.” Nurlue patted Larch’s hand.

  The servants began to carry out platters and bowls filled with leafy vegetables, sautéed mushrooms, and root vegetables in heavy sauce. King Tyburr looked around expectantly, but when no other dishes emerged from the kitchen, he turned back to Nurlue. “I noticed that you have an abundance of game in your forest, yet you don’t serve meat with your supper,” he said.

  Larch leaned forward to see past Nurlue. “We’re careful about what we eat,” she told King Tyburr.

  “I can see why,” King Tyburr said, glancing at Aislin before turning to the heavier pedrasi and the fairies’ padded clothes.

  Aislin blushed and turned away. She didn’t know what he meant, but his tone of voice and the expression on his face told her that he was being unkind.

  Noticing Aislin’s pink cheeks, Larch pursed her lips. The fairy’s hand shook when she reached for her chalice, causing her to spill wine onto the table. “How clumsy of me!” she exclaimed.

  Aislin suspected that the nursemaid had done it on purpose to change the subject.

  King Tyburr didn’t seem to notice. “This wine is delicious,” he declared, and drained his chalice. “I don’t think I’ve ever tasted any like it.”

  “We make it ourselves,” Larch told him proudly. “Our vintners are very talented. Be careful though—our wine can go straight to your head if you aren’t accustomed to it.”

  King Tyburr laughed. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” He smiled when a servant refilled his chalice.

  Aislin thought the human king looked more relaxed than he had before. When she glanced at his men, they all seemed to be enjoying their food and wine as well. She noticed that the servants were quick to refill their cups with the potent fairy wine as soon as they were emptied. A few of the humans were already yawning. Only Craiger seemed more interested in the people around him than in what his trencher and cup held. He seemed especially intrigued by the fairies seated across from him. Aislin wondered if their disguises weren’t quite good enough. When she looked at them more critically, she realized that one or two might have overdone it; although their bodies and padding-plumped arms were very round, their faces were still thin, and their hands long and narrow, making them look quite odd.

  After sampling his food, King Tyburr turned back to Nurlue. “Most people don’t believe that anyone lives between the mountains. I was surprised when I saw your daughter. Do you have many subjects?”

  “A goodly number, scattered here and there,” Nurlue replied, careful not to reveal too much.

  Aislin’s gaze wandered back to Craiger. The man was staring at King Tyburr as if hoping to catch his eye. Whatever he had to say to the king, Aislin had a feeling that she wouldn’t like it. Perhaps it was time for another distraction. Setting down her knife, she turned to Nurlue and said, “I think our guests might like a song, Father. With your permission …”

  Nurlue glanced at Aislin, then at Larch. When Larch gave him a tiny nod, he said, “Wonderful idea, my dear. We always enjoy your songs.”

  Aislin stood and faced the humans seated at the table below the dais. As she began to sing a song about love and valor, everyone stopped talking. She had thought this through and was careful to leave out the words “fairy,” “ogre,” “flying,” “magic,” “curse,” and all references to incredible age. Her gaze wandered around the hall as she sang, and she saw her plan had worked; she watched as everyone, including Craiger, sat back to listen and sip from their cups of wine. Only the servants seemed alert, hurrying to replenish the guests’ drinks.

  Aislin sang until the wine had made most of the humans fall asleep with their heads pillowed on their arms. By the time King Tyburr himself slumped with his mouth open, only Craiger was still
awake, although even his head was starting to droop. Aislin kept singing until Craiger was snoring into the remains of his supper. As soon as she was sure that he really was asleep, she turned to Larch and Nurlue.

  “Come with us.” Larch beckoned and led the way to the anteroom next to the Great Hall.

  “Mother!” Aislin cried out when she saw the queen waiting for them. Running to the queen, Aislin threw herself into her mother’s arms. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to keep them from coming to the castle! When I saw that it couldn’t be avoided, I kept them away as long as I could.”

  “You did well,” her mother said, holding her close. “My dear, brave girl! I wish it hadn’t been up to you to deal with these men. I’m very proud of you.”

  Relieved to see her mother, Aislin was bursting with questions. “Is Father coming back?” she asked.

  The queen shook her head. “I sent word to him right away, but the fairy messengers came back to tell me that neither your father nor your grandfather are in Fairengar. No one knows where they are right now. We have to handle this ourselves.”

  Larch snorted and shook her head. “I still say we should have given those humans the toxic mushrooms. Humans aren’t to be trusted.”

  “We weren’t going to kill those men!” the queen exclaimed. “Tyburr is a king! Surely his people know that he came this way. If he doesn’t return, they’ll come looking for him. The last thing we want to do is start a war! We’ll just send them back where they came from and reseal the pass when they’re gone.”

  “Shouldn’t we put them in bed for now?” asked Aislin. “We can’t leave them in the Great Hall all night. Do you have rooms ready?”

  “We do,” said the queen. “They’ll sleep in the west wing. We’ll post guards to make sure they don’t wake up and go wandering.”

  “After drinking all that fairy wine, those men will be out till morning,” said Nurlue.

  “I hope so,” the queen replied. “For everyone’s sake.”