There was the customary long silence that usually followed one of his stories and he began to resign himself to yet another failure – but then suddenly, unexpectedly, something quite extraordinary happened. Princess Kerin tilted back her head and laughed. And it wasn't a feeble chuckle, or a half?hearted snigger. No, it was a genuine laugh, full of merriment.
'That's very good,' she said, when her laughter had subsided a little. And she seemed to mean every word of it.
Sebastian was so taken aback, he nearly fell out of his seat. He looked over at Max, who was staring back again, this time with a bewildered expression on his face.
'You . . . you really thought it was funny?' ventured Sebastian.
'Of course! "Attitude". "Hat he chewed"! That's brilliant. Tell me some more.'
Scarcely believing his luck, Sebastian tried her with some more jokes. Each one was rewarded with a more enthusiastic response, until by the fifth one she was virtually helpless with laughter, tears streaming down her lovely face.
'Stop,' she cried. 'I'll wee myself!'
This was such an un-princess-like thing to say that Sebastian felt quite shocked but, in a strange way, delighted. He found that he was warming to Princess Kerin in a way he could never have imagined possible. He smiled and gave Max an enthusiastic flick on the rump with the reins.
'Let's not get carried away,' he heard the buffalope say – but Sebastian was too pleased to care.
'So . . . how do you remember them all?' asked Princess Kerin, once she had got herself under control.
'I just memorize them,' he told her.
'I'm useless at telling jokes,' she said. 'I always get the details wrong. It'll be nice to have somebody at court who can liven things up a bit. It can be terribly stuffy being a princess.'
'You'll be Queen soon,' Sebastian reminded her.
'Yes.' Her good humour seemed to evaporate and she looked suddenly very serious. 'I can't say I'm looking forward to it. I've known since I was a little girl that I'd have to do it sooner or later, but it always seemed so far away. Now, all of a sudden, it's crept up on me. Tomorrow's my birthday and then it's just one short year away.'
'A lot can happen in a year,' said Sebastian.
I suppose it can. But still, it seems too close for comfort. I hope I'll be a good queen.' She gave him a curious sidelong look. 'What do you think?' she asked.
Tricky one, that.
I . . . wouldn't have the first idea,' he said. 'I don't really know what's involved.' He felt slightly emboldened by the fact that she had liked his jokes and made an uncharacteristically forthright remark. I suppose it always helps if a queen is beautiful. And . . . you're certainly that.'
She gave him a questioning look and then shook her head. 'You're just saying that because you think it will get you a job,' she said.
'No, I mean it . . . you are. Really.' His face was burning again, and he found it very difficult to look at her.
'Gosh,' she said. 'Nobody's ever said I'm beautiful before.'
'I find that hard to believe,' he said.
'Oh, people have said I'm regal and full of majesty and other piffle like that. But nobody's used that word.' She looked at him thoughtfully. 'What about my nose?' she asked him.
'Your . . . nose?'
'Yes. It has a bit of a twist to it. See?'
He was obliged to look her directly in the face and was aware of her eyes boring into his own. 'Umm . . . I . . . I can't see anything wrong with it. Your nose. It's . . . proud.'
'That's just a nice way of saying it's too big!' she protested.
'No, it's perfect. On your face, no other nose would sit as well. It's . . . really, a very, very nice nose.'
There was a long silence while they sat there staring at each other, a moment that was rudely interrupted by the sound of Max breaking wind.
'Scuse me,' he said. But the spell was shattered. Sebastian and Princess Kerin turned away from each other and fixed their gazes on the way ahead.
'Well, I'm sure that there's a lot more to being a queen than having a proud nose,' she said at last. 'I understand you need certain qualities.'
'Honesty,' said Sebastian, and immediately regretted it.
'What do you mean?' she demanded, rather sharply.
'Er . . . well, I think that's probably something that a queen might need, to . . . rule wisely. And, er . . . I was thinking . . .' His voice trailed off as he realized he was overstepping the mark. 'It's . . . none of my business really.'
'No, go on with what you were about to say. I insist.'
Sebastian felt as though he was growing steadily smaller in his seat but it was too late to evade the issue. 'It was the way you behaved when you discovered that your guards had been killed. For a moment it looked like you were genuinely upset – there were real tears in your eyes . . . but then you did something to make yourself all hard, like you didn't really care.'
Princess Kerin glared at him. 'What if I did?' she protested.
'Well, your highness . . . I'm only saying. There's no shame in shedding tears for those who have died. We wouldn't have thought any the less of you.'
'I see.' All the warmth had gone out of Princess Kerin's voice now. 'So you're saying I'm dishonest. That I show a false image to the world.'
'It wasn't really my place to say anything,' said Sebastian glumly.
'Too right it wasn't! You realize, of course, that I could have you executed on the spot when we arrive at our destination.'
'But . . . I . . . Princess, we saved your life!'
'You needn't think that counts for anything. Of all the presumptuous—' Her temper seemed to suddenly tip over a precipice into a chasm of spite. 'Who are you, anyway, to be criticizing somebody like me? A jumped-up jester in an ill-fitting outfit who tells pathetic stories for a living.'
'You seemed to think they were quite funny!' muttered Sebastian.
'It was sympathy. I just felt sorry for you!'
'Please, your highness, I didn't mean—'
'I don't care what you meant! Well, I'm not staying here to be insulted.' She turned aside and jumped down from her seat.
'Princess, please! Where are you going?'
'To my own carriage,' she snarled and began to march away, her hands on her hips.
'But it's not safe! The equines . . .'
She ignored him. Leaning out, he saw that she was approaching Cornelius, who was looking at her with a baffled expression on his face. He was about to rein in the equines, but she simply made a leap for it, clambered up the swaying steps of the carriage and disappeared inside.
Sebastian dropped back down into his seat with a groan and buried his face in his hands.
There was a long silence as the caravan moved on across the hillside. Then Max said: 'Well. That could have gone better.'
Sebastian looked down at the buffalope's swaying rump. 'Please,' he said. 'This is not a good time—'
I mean, it was all going so well! You had her eating out of your hand. Unbelievable as it may seem, she was even laughing at your jokes! And then, just when everything was looking perfect, when all you had to do was butter her up a bit, what did you do? You criticized her! You said she wasn't fit to be Queen,'
'I know! I can't think what came over me. But, you know, deep down inside, she probably knows I'm right.'
Max looked back over his shoulder, a long, pitying look. 'We'll try to draw comfort from that when we're being executed in the town square,' he said grimly.
'Oh, it won't come to that,' Sebastian assured him. 'After all, we rescued her, didn't we?'
But Max made no reply and they plodded on in stony silence.
CHAPTER 9
TEARS BEFORE BEDTIME
The sun was setting once again, and above the treetops to the west, the sky was piled with great columns of blood-red cloud. There was something else too: the tip of a spire rising sheer into the air. To be visible at such a distance it must surely have been the highest building in all creation.
The
y were tantalizingly close and yet, Cornelius decided, not close enough. He shouted that they should make camp for one more night and finish their journey the following morning.
The copses of trees had grown steadily more widespread as they'd journeyed through the day, until now they were following a path that led through what was little short of woodland. They came to a large clearing and saw what had to be the most welcome sight of all. A stream was meandering through it, the first water they'd seen since they'd started across the plains. Sebastian brought the caravan to a halt and Cornelius pulled up alongside him, an accusatory expression on his baby face.
'What did you say to her?' he hissed angrily, but Sebastian ignored him. He jumped down from the caravan and unhitched Max, who made a beeline for the stream and began to drink deeply.
'Now who says you can't trust Berundians?' asked Sebastian, slapping him playfully on the rump.
Max lifted his head briefly, water dripping from his mouth. 'Yes, but we didn't find it till we were nearly in Keladon,' he retorted. 'And stop trying to divert attention from the fact that you have made a blunder.'
'Thanks for the sympathy,' muttered Sebastian.
Cornelius appeared from around the back of the carriage. He was slotting together a series of jointed metal pieces, which fitted into a set of leather compartments in his belt. As Sebastian watched, he assembled a beautiful miniature crossbow.
'Had this made for me by a master craftsman in Golmira,' he said. 'No good for hunting javralats but great for food on the wing.' He pointed up at the restless black shapes moving in the trees.
'Supper,' he announced. 'You get a fire going, I'll pick off a couple of those beauties. They look like they should make good eating. We might try tasting some of that fruit too. It would make a welcome change from meat.' He looked up at Sebastian again. 'The princess seemed very upset,' he whispered. 'I tried calling in to her several times along the way but she didn't even deign to answer me.'
'Look. Forget about it,' snapped Sebastian. 'I really don't want to talk about this.'
'Suit yourself.' Cornelius wandered off into the trees, looking up at the branches above him, which were silhouetted by the red light of dusk. Sebastian, meanwhile, inspected the wound in Max's flank, which looked sore but not infected.
'No need for mulch tonight,' he said, with forced jollity. 'The grass here looks pretty tasty.'
Max sighed. 'The condemned beast ate a hearty meal,' he muttered and moved away from the stream to browse on the lush grass beside it.
'Oh come on,' said Sebastian. 'It might not be as bad as all that.' He looked thoughtfully towards Princess Kerin's carriage, where a dull wash of yellow light glowed from under the curtained doorway.
Up in the trees there was a sudden swish of air and a black shape plummeted from the topmost branches to hit the ground with a thud.
'Looks like your supper's sorted out,' observed Max.
Sebastian hurried to the wagon to fetch some kindling. He was hungry again and the big birds would take some time cooking.
A short while later Sebastian and Cornelius were sitting at the campfire, watching the carcasses of two plump birds turning on the spit and dripping fat into the flames. They had tried a couple of pieces of the crimson fruit as an appetizer but it tasted rather sour and they had quickly abandoned the idea of a healthy alternative to meat. There was still no sign of Princess Kerin, and Cornelius was beginning to worry about her. He kept throwing nervous glances towards her carriage, then looking accusingly at Sebastian.
'She must be starving in there,' he said. 'One of us should at least try and persuade her to come out for some supper.'
'Be my guest,' said Sebastian quickly. 'I've already felt the sharp edge of her tongue, thank you very much.'
'Yes, but look, it's your fault she's in there.'
'Oh? How do you figure that out?'
'Because you questioned her ability to be Queen.'
Sebastian glared at him. I . . . How did you . . . ?' He turned to look at Max, who was suddenly very occupied with munching grass. 'Oh, thanks very much . . . big mouth!'
Max lifted his head and gave Sebastian an innocent look. 'Oh dear, did I say something out of place?'
'Turncoat!' Sebastian stared gloomily into the fire. I didn't mean it to go as far as it did,' he said. I think she over-reacted.'
Cornelius seemed to consider for a moment. 'Whatever your reasons for saying it, it's up to you to try and make amends. We only have tonight. If we arrive in Keladon with her in that kind of mood, the chances are we'll all be in big trouble. Now, I suggest that you go over to her carriage and apologize to her.'
Sebastian scowled. 'Do I have to?' he said. 'It'll mean tremendous loss of face.'
'Perhaps. Rather preferable to tremendous loss of head though, wouldn't you agree?'
Sebastian sighed. 'Oh, very well,' he said. He got reluctantly to his feet. 'She'll probably just tell me to clear off.'
'Well, if she does, at least we can't say you didn't give it a try,' reasoned Cornelius. 'Now, just make sure you keep your temper . . .'
'And don't say anything else you might regret,' added Max, talking through a mouthful of grass.
'Yes, yes!' Sebastian stalked away across the campsite, leav?ing the warmth of the fire behind him. It was very quiet and the moon was full and bright. The flocks of black birds were all asleep up in the branches of the trees, which cast long angular shadows across the clearing. Somewhere not so far off something howled, a long, low, mournful tone.
Sebastian approached the steps of the carriage where, not so long ago, Cornelius had made a valiant stand against a rabble of armed Brigands. He stood for a moment, listening, but no sound came from within. He climbed the steps and then politely rapped his knuckles against the door frame.
'Your highness?' he ventured. 'We were wondering if you would honour us with your company for supper.'
There was a long silence. Then her voice came softly from within.
'Please go away,' she said.
He was about to follow the instruction, but something within him rebelled. 'No,' he said. T will not. Princess, you may punish me for disobeying you, but I refuse to go until we have discussed this like two adults.'
Silence.
'Listen. I . . . want to apologize to you. I overstepped the mark. I know that. But . . . I still stand by what I said. And anyway, what's worse? Being left in ignorance of your own faults, or being told, so that you can make changes?'
More silence. But no, not quite. Sebastian moved his head closer to the curtains because he thought he had picked up a muffled sound from within. He listened very carefully for a moment. Yes, he had been right. It was the sound of crying.
'Princess?' Emboldened by the sound, he climbed the last step and pushed through the curtain, instinctively lifting one hand to guard his head, just in case she was in a vengeful mood. But no, she was not waiting for him with a chamber pot this time. In the subtle glow of an oil lamp, he saw that she was sitting cross-legged on her silken bed, her head bowed, her shoulders moving rhythmically up and down. She looked up at him and he saw that her lovely face was wet with tears.
Sebastian Darke: Prince of Fools Page 7
