“We’ll see who’s sorry,” said Georgie as Maury, Rory, and Cory led their crooked prisoner away to a crooked stockade currently being built especially for him, though when construction began earlier that day, it had been intended for someone else.
“It’s okay,” said Georgie. “I don’t blame you for assuming it was me.”
“Well,” said Elspeth, “you did sort of disappear on us.”
“I’ve been hard at work,” he said while giving the handwritten report over to Elspeth. “And I think I may have found a way into the castle. Look at number four under the Likes column.”
Elspeth ran her finger down the page and stopped at number four, immediately intrigued by what she saw. “Yes, I remember that from the feast at the castle,” she said. “His love of fine cheeses. Interesting.”
“Isn’t it?” said Georgie. “And we just happen to have a very large wheel of it.”
“But how does this help us?” asked Elspeth. “As I seem to recall, the Cheese stands alone.”
“The Cheese stands on the side of justice,” said the Cheese, who had rolled up silently behind Elspeth. “Count me in.”
“Okay,” said Elspeth, both surprised and happy to see the Cheese. “We’d be very grateful for your help. But are you sure about this? It could be very dangerous.”
“Danger is my middle name,” said the Cheese. When Elspeth chuckled at this, the Cheese felt it necessary to explain. “No, seriously. Danger really is my middle name. First name Rodney.”
“Your name is Rodney Danger Cheese?”
“At your service,” said the Cheese.
“So what did Georgie say to change your mind?” asked Elspeth.
“It was nothing he said. It was something you did,” said the Cheese. “I heard about how you lost that chess match on purpose. You could have gone home and left this whole lousy mess to someone else. But you stayed. When I heard that . . . man. Let me just say, you make me want to be a better cheese,” said the Cheese, unaware for the moment that he was being licked by a tiny tongue.
“Couldn’t get much better, if you ask me,” said Barry White, the owner of that tiny tongue.
“Hey,” said Rodney. He spun around quickly and then lurched forward, threatening to flatten the three mice. “Nobody licks the Cheese unless I say so.”
“Sorry,” offered Earl Grey. “It won’t happen again. Will it, Barry?”
“No, sir,” said Barry, hanging his head but still smacking his lips.
“You wanted to see us, General?” said Earl Grey.
“Yes,” said Elspeth. “I need you to leave first thing tomorrow morning.”
“But it was just one little lick,” Barry protested.
“On a mission,” Elspeth clarified. “To the castle.”
“What kind of mission?” said James Brown.
“One that only you three could pull off.”
There was a crooked man, and he walked a crooked mile
On his way to betray Elspeth’s army, rank and file.
He and his crooked cat met a willow named Manuel;
Now they both live together in a little crooked cell.
Chapter 25
It was no small victory that the Cheese had agreed to exploit Krool’s love of aged cheddar by acting as a decoy, luring the king’s men into lowering the drawbridge. But the ploy would only be effective if Elspeth’s troops could make the sprint from the cover of the trees to the castle entrance before the bridge could be raised again.
In addition to that, getting the Cheese into place unnoticed meant that the plan would have to be carried out under the darkness of a new moon. The next one would occur in nine days, and Elspeth had made it clear that she was unwilling to wait any longer than that. Getting ready in time would mean doubling up on an already grueling regimen of training and conditioning.
By day three of this super-intense boot camp, Elspeth was far from hopeful. Her ragtag army, it seemed, had maxed out.
“Miss Muffet,” said Elspeth during one particularly frustrating episode. “What seems to be the problem?”
“I thought I saw a spider,” replied the sobbing woman. “Turns out it was just a crunched-up leaf, but for a second there I thought I was a goner.”
“May I remind you that you have two feet?” said Elspeth. “And on those feet are shoes. And in your hands is a large stick.”
“That’s the problem,” blubbered Miss Muffet. “When I’m not looking, a spider could easily crawl right up this stick and attack me.”
Elspeth threw up her hands. “Okay, let’s take five and regroup, shall we?”
While her fellow soldiers sought to comfort the very distraught Miss Muffet, Elspeth expressed her concern privately to Dumpty and Bo-Peep. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I’m beginning to think that maybe this is the best they can do. And it’s nowhere near good enough.”
“If I may,” said Bo-Peep.
“Yes?” said Elspeth.
“The first day of stick fighting, when you handed them over to me, you reminded me not to be too nice to them. Pardon me for saying so, but I think that might be part of the problem here.”
“That I’m being too nice?” Elspeth chuckled at the thought. “I don’t think anyone has ever accused me of being too nice.”
“Exactly my point, ma’am,” said Bo-Peep. “After all, there’s a reason you’re the one who was chosen to lead us.” She spoke slowly, treading carefully around the subject. “What I’m trying to say is, you have a certain . . . reputation. One that, it seems, would lend itself to holding a position of authority.”
“Forgive me,” said Dumpty, “but I think what Bo-Peep means is that you can sometimes be very . . . how shall I put this?”
“Spirited?” offered Elspeth.
“Yes,” said Bo-Peep with a huge sense of relief. “That’s it exactly. And I think that when you first came here, you had a certain edge that seems to have diminished slightly as you’ve gotten to know everyone a bit better. Many of us now see you as a friend as opposed to a superior officer.”
“A friend? Really?” said Elspeth.
“Yes,” said Dumpty. “Unfortunately, at this moment in time what most of these people need is not so much another friend but a good kick in the bum.”
Elspeth pulled slowly at her chin. “I see,” she said, then immediately ordered the troops to fall in and to stand at attention.
“Okay, listen up,” she yelled while walking the ranks so close to her troops that she stepped on more than a few toes along the way. “In just six days we will be attacking the castle. That means I’ve got six days to turn you whiny, sniveling, pathetic, yellow-bellied sacks of goo into a well-oiled fighting machine. From now on there will be no slacking, no griping, and, above all, no crying.”
She spoke the last line directly to Miss Muffet, close enough to her face that Elspeth’s breath visibly moved the tresses of her weave.
Jack leaned over and whispered to his wife, “She’s really fired up now,” which caused them both to chuckle.
“Quiet!” Elspeth shouted. “No talking in rank! Now let me make one thing absolutely clear. I am not your friend, and I am not your babysitter. I am your commanding officer. If I say jump, you say, How high? If I say run, you say, How fast? And if I say drop and give me fifty push-ups, you say, How delightful, we thought you’d never ask. Is that understood?”
“Yes, ma’am!” two hundred voices shouted in unison.
“Good. Now drop and give me fifty push-ups!”
“How delightful, we thought you’d never ask!”
Elspeth looked back at Dumpty and Bo-Peep and gave a smile. Halfway through the push-ups, many of the troops had collapsed to the ground, exhausted. Still, it was a start, thought Elspeth.
Just then Winkie showed up, confused as to why half the army was engaged in something vaguely resembling push-ups while the other half lay on the ground, nearly coughing up blood. “What’s going on here?”
“Push-ups,” answered Elspe
th.
“Oh, so that’s how they’re doing them now,” said Winkie. “Anyway, I thought you would like to know that the trebuchet is finished and ready for testing.”
“Great,” said Elspeth. “Let’s go have a look at it.”
Its construction was far more primitive than Elspeth had imagined it would be, but Winkie assured her they’d done the best they could with their very limited resources. He then instructed Cory and Rory to load a large rock into the sling.
“Stand back,” Winkie ordered, his hand upon the trigger. “This is a powerful weapon. I just hope there’s no one standing a hundred feet straight ahead.”
Winkie pulled the firing mechanism and the counterweight dropped, sending the arm shooting forward and the rock flying sixty, eighty, one hundred feet . . . not straight ahead but straight up. Then, as the laws of physics would dictate, it fell straight back down.
“Run!” shouted Winkie, sending spectators scattering in all directions. With a strange, low whistle, the rock plummeted downward and landed with a crunch right on top of the trebuchet. Though it may not have been a highly efficient castle-wrecking machine, Winkie’s trebuchet did turn out to be a pretty good trebuchet-wrecking machine.
“It would appear,” said Winkie, looking upon the useless pile of lumber, “that we need to make a few adjustments.”
Farrah, Farrah, no tiara,
How will your wedding go?
No silver bells, no cockle shells,
No pretty maids all in a row.
Chapter 26
Training from sunup to sundown had left Elspeth exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to bed down for the night, but there was one more thing she had to do: pay a visit to the small, humble tent of Young Mother Hubbard.
“Hello?” she said, the parcel wrapped in brown paper tucked beneath her arm. “Anyone home?”
Young Mother Hubbard turned out to be young in the same way that New York is newer than York. That is to say, she looked much older than her name might have suggested, but her weathered face was kind and inviting.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” said Elspeth when she noticed the sewing in the woman’s hands. “May I come in?”
“Of course,” said Young Mother Hubbard as she held back the flap, allowing Elspeth to duck inside. “It’s an honor to finally meet you.”
“The honor is mine,” said Elspeth. Then, of the sewing, she said, “That’s very nice work.”
“It’s a flag,” said Young Mother Hubbard. “My mother started it before she died and entrusted me with finishing it. I should have had it done ages ago, but I never thought we’d have much use for it. Until now.” Holding it by the corners, the woman let the banner fall to its full length. It was bright gold with a shield in red, and upon that shield were two eyes, one open and one shut. “It’s the Winkie family crest,” she explained. “One day soon it will fly above the castle as it did for so many years.”
“That depends on how things go next week,” said Elspeth.
“It would mean a lot to me if one of your soldiers could carry it into battle,” said Young Mother Hubbard. “In honor of my mother.”
It occurred to Elspeth that, in addition to being an expert seamstress, Young Mother Hubbard was also a very good daughter. In fact, if Elspeth could somehow make it back home, it was the kind of daughter she now aspired to be.
As far as carrying the flag into battle, one especially worthy of the task came to mind right away, and Elspeth promised that if she and her army were so lucky as to gain entrance to the castle, the flag would come with them.
“I wish I’d had a chance to meet your mother,” said Elspeth. “But I’m told she died several years ago.”
Young Mother Hubbard began refolding the flag with short, angry movements. “Yes,” she said. “My mother was one of Krool’s most outspoken critics. She sewed large banners outlining his many crimes and hung them from the castle walls. It was only a matter of time before she became the victim of one of those crimes.”
“I’m sorry,” said Elspeth. “I’m sure she was a wonderful person. And I know she was a wonderful seamstress. The uniform is perfect.”
“She was the best in all the land,” said Young Mother Hubbard. “And lucky for me, she taught me everything I know.”
“That’s obvious,” said Elspeth. “Listen, I’m sure that work on the flag is probably keeping you quite busy, but I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Anything,” said Young Mother Hubbard.
Elspeth placed the parcel on the ground, wrapped in the same paper and tied with the same twine as her uniform had been. “I know the royal wedding is only four days away,” she said. “But I was wondering if there might be something you could do with this.” She opened the package and there was the Bobby Shafto gown, water stained in some places, muddy in others, and in some, just as perfect as the day it was made.
“It’s beautiful,” said Young Mother Hubbard, running her slim fingers across the pink silk. “But what is it you would like done with it?”
“I’m told the bride has no wedding gown,” said Elspeth.
Young Mother Hubbard smiled. “I could make her a dozen gowns with this.”
“She’ll only need one,” Elspeth replied.
“True. And rest assured, it will be the loveliest you’ve ever seen.”
While Young Mother Hubbard went to work on Farrah’s dress, Elspeth went to work on her troops, drilling them mercilessly. She berated them when necessary, punished them when warranted, and drove them to exhaustion. Just three days later the change was noticeable. No longer was there any crying, grumbling, or coughing up blood while trying to do push-ups. They were strong, disciplined, and near masters in the art of Shaolin stick fighting. To watch Bo-Peep take them through their full repertoire of moves, all executed in perfect unison, was both beautiful and intimidating.
If Jack and Jill were understandably proud of their daughter, they were also proud of themselves. “Look at this,” said Jack, thrusting his chest forward. “I think I’ve lost weight.”
“I think I found it,” said Jill, playfully grabbing his belly in two big handfuls.
Jack responded by tickling her mercilessly as she laughed, squealed, and finally fell to the ground, breathless.
Elspeth smiled, amused to see an old married couple having fun together for a change. She wondered what life might have been like growing up here, with them as her parents. Of course Jack and Jill had often wondered the same thing, but only for brief periods, for to dwell too long on what might have been can often lead to regret and bitterness, and they were not those kind of people.
That evening, as Elspeth prepared for another night of well-deserved sleep, she received a visitor to her tent. “Come in,” Elspeth said to the last person she expected to see after the tongue-lashing she’d handed out.
“It’s okay, ma’am,” said Little Miss Muffet. “I don’t need to come in. This won’t take long. I only wanted to tell you that I saw a spider this morning.”
“Oh,” said Elspeth. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I smashed it,” said Little Miss Muffet. “With my foot.”
“I see,” said Elspeth, still uncertain as to where this was leading.
“I’m not afraid anymore,” said Miss Muffet. “I’m angry. We’re all angry. Thanks to you, our fear has been replaced with outrage. I just wanted you to know that. I just wanted you to know that we’re ready.”
“Good,” said Elspeth with a smile. She agreed that they were ready for battle. She also knew they were ready for a break.
The timing of Farrah and Winkie’s marriage ceremony could not have been better. Nothing boosts morale and puts people in a good mood quite like a wedding, which is why it had been scheduled to take place two days before the attack, with that extra day built in to allow the troops time to recover from the festivities as they traveled to the castle. After all, it’s not every day that one attends a royal wedding.
The day had begun overcast but
by the late afternoon, when Mayor Dumpty took his place beneath an archway made of evergreen boughs and fern leaves decorated with white and purple flowers, the sun was sprinkling through the treetops like tinsel.
The weather was gorgeous and, just as Young Mother Hubbard had promised it would be, so was the gown.
From Shafto to Hubbard, the gown had gone from beautiful, yet predictable and confining, to soft and flowing, almost to the point of being musical. It featured a detachable train nearly ten feet long that Jill and Bo-Peep, Farrah’s official bridesmaids, would carry past the two hundred spectators on the way to the altar.
“You look stunning,” said Elspeth as Bo-Peep adjusted Farrah’s lacy veil and the crowd waited impatiently for her emergence from the tent.
“Not bad for a two-bit garage sale item,” quipped Farrah.
“That was a horrible thing for me to say,” said Elspeth. “Please forgive me.”
“I’m only kidding,” said Farrah. “If not for you, none of this would be happening. I can’t thank you enough.”
“I’d give you a hug, but I don’t want to wrinkle your dress,” said Elspeth. Farrah quickly settled the matter by initiating a hug of her own. “You’ll make a wonderful queen,” said Elspeth.
“Speaking of which,” said Bo-Peep, “your king is waiting.”
As maid of honor, Elspeth took her place next to Dumpty and across from Winkie. If the groom was nervous, he did his best not to show it. As the music began and Farrah stepped out of the tent, he watched her glide toward him as if upon a cloud. When she passed by, each guest fell to one knee, honoring Farrah as if she were already queen. After all, it would be official in but a few minutes.
“Dearly beloved,” began Dumpty. “We are gathered here today to join in holy matrimony, King William the Umpteenth and his lovely bride, Farrah.”
Handkerchiefs were at the ready as the bride and groom recited their vows to love, honor, and cherish. Looking on, Elspeth wondered if there ever was a time when her own parents were so fond of one another.
Blue in the Face Page 17
