The Unhandsome Prince

by John Moore

  “Bigoted jerk,” said the dwarf.

  “I’m sure it was a good effort,” said Caroline, “but I’m sort of retired from the spinning industry just now. Thanks for asking.”

  “Your problem, my friend,” Bear told Rumpelstiltskin, “is that you’re going to have to start hanging out with dumber girls.”

  “Yeah, yeah, look who’s talking. What about you and that magic sword?”

  Bear’s grin froze on his face. “That’s completely different.”

  “It was a great investment, I’m sure. At least I didn’t spend cash on my spinning wheel.”

  “You have a magic sword?” asked Emily.

  “Not exactly,” said Bear. “Say, it’s time for another round. Who wants one? I’m buying.”

  “Not so fast,” said Rumpelstiltskin. “You told your story, let me tell mine.”

  “I want to hear about the magic sword also,” said Emily. “I’m studying to be a sorceress.”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to study this one. Except maybe as a bad example.”

  “Don’t feel bad,” Emily told Bear. “You aren’t the first person to be fooled by a fake magic sword, and you won’t be the last.”

  “Oh, it’s not fake,” said Rumpelstiltskin. “It’s just that most magic swords are enchanted to help you win the fight. Mr. Genius here gets the world’s only magic sword that guarantees you’ll get your butt kicked.”

  “I can’t understand it,” said Bear. “It worked just fine on the docks.”

  “You bought it at the docks?”

  “From a spice ship that came from the Far East. It was their first trip this far west. Just a small ship, with a hold full of nutmegs. Well, I got to talking with the sailors, thinking I could pick up some curios maybe. And one thing led to another, and he sold me this enchanted sword. I mean, it seemed like a really good price for an enchanted sword.”

  “Now you know why,” said Rumpelstiltskin.

  “I tried it out before I bought it, of course. He had a couple of unenchanted swords and we sparred for a while. He couldn’t get past my guard.”

  “He was letting you win, of course.”

  “No, no, it’s not like that. I tried it both ways, each of us taking a turn with the magic sword. And I couldn’t get past his guard either. Sure, maybe he was really good, but—I don’t know. The sword’s enchanted all right. But there’s something wrong with it.”

  “Sometimes a spell just doesn’t take,” said Emily.

  “This is great,” said Caroline. “Magic swords. I love the city. We never hear stories like this back in Ripplebrook.

  “May I see the sword?” said Hal. He had been silent up until now. All the others looked at him. “If you have it with you,” he added.

  “Sure,” said Bear. “It’s on my saddle. I’ll get it for you.”

  “No, don’t get up,” said Hal. “I’ll get it. You’re still riding that roan? I know your horse.” He slid away from the table. “Back in a minute.”

  “Nice guy,” said Rumpelstiltskin, when the Prince had gone.

  “Good old Hal,” said Bear.

  “Why do people treat him like that?” said Caroline.

  “Like what?”

  “Well, you know.” Caroline had to think for a minute. “Here’s good old Hal. Call him by his first name, shake his hand. It’s like they don’t even know he’s a prince. Aren’t people supposed to be more—I don’t know—more deferential?”

  “Usually they are,” said Bear. “But your typical prince is an upper-class snot. Hal’s not that kind of guy. You don’t have to do that bowing and sucking up when Hal’s around.”

  “He is more casual than I expected,” said Rumpelstiltskin.

  “Everyone likes Hal. And he’s a good guy. He doesn’t forget his friends.”

  “Mmm,” said Rumpelstiltskin. “I’m told he doesn’t forget his enemies, either.”

  “All the more reason to be friendly to him.”

  “I’m not sure I approve of this,” said Caroline. “I think people should be more respectful.”

  “We don’t have room to talk,” said Emily. “We’ve been pretty casual toward him ourselves. She looked curiously at Caroline, who had been anything but respectful toward the young Prince.

  “But that was just us.” Caroline seemed to be speaking half to herself. “I didn’t expect the whole city to act like this.”

  Bear laughed. “If you two young ladies are looking for a chance to practice your curtseys, don’t worry. Once Hal takes you up to the palace, you’ll get plenty of chances to be respectful and deferential. There’s no shortage of snobs in Melinower. Especially at the palace. Maybe that’s why everyone is so easygoing around Hal. I mean, there’s Prince Jeff and Prince Kenny, the two handsome brothers, and then there’s Hal, the . . . uh . . . um.” Bear suddenly realized that both girls were staring daggers at him. His voice trailed off, and he quickly developed a keen interest in the bottom of his mug.

  “The youngest brother,” finished Rumpelstiltskin for him.

  “Yeah!” Bear perked up. “That’s what I was about to say.”

  “Somebody’s got to be youngest,” said Hal, returning to the table. “Turns out I was the most qualified for the job.”

  He laid the sword down. They all looked at it, the men with rather more interest than the girls. It was in a slim scabbard of varnished light wood. Strange glyphs were burned into the scabbard. To these natives of Melinower, unfamiliar with the languages of the east, they looked like mystical occult symbols. The handle was a hard stack of compressed leather disks, and there was a simple perforated metal dish for the hilt. Hal slid the blade partly out of the scabbard. It was single-edged, slightly curved, gleaming with a light coat of oil. The men bent over the blade, even Bear, who had examined it many times already, to spot the fine dark lines running through the metal. Satisfied with this indication of quality, they all leaned back again.

  “Not bad-looking,” said Hal finally. “Kind of pretty, in one of those simple-but-elegant sorts of ways.”

  “Huh,” said Bear. “It looks better than it fights.”

  “Does it have a name?” said Emily. “Magic swords tend to have names.”

  “Sure it does. I call it the sword that I bought from a sailor down at the docks and if I ever see him again I’ll twist his head off.”

  “Catchy name. Has a certain ring to it.”

  “It’s a singing sword, too.”

  “Really?” said Caroline. “And what does it sing?”

  “Madrigals, mostly. But once in a while it will burst into a few verses of ‘Highland Lassie.’ ”

  “He’s kidding,” said Hal. “A singing sword is one that rings when you pluck it. Here, listen.” He snapped the sword with a thumb and forefinger. It responded with a clear, musical tone, like a tuning fork. “It happens when the metal is worked just right, and the edge is ground a certain way. It’s pretty rare.”

  “I’d heard of it,” said Bear. “But until this one, I’d never seen it.”

  “Really good razors do it,” Rumpelstiltskin observed.

  “That’s about all this sword is good for.”

  “I’d like to try it out,” said Hal.

  The two other men looked surprised. The girls were surprised also, but feeling themselves bound to support Hal, they tried not to show it. Hal hadn’t expressed a great interest in weapons on their journey—he didn’t seem the type to get into them.

  “Now? Here?” said Bear.

  “Sure,” said Hal. “We’ve got all evening to kill. It’s a fine, clear night, and there’s room outside.”

  “Well, okay,” said Bear. “You’re the Prince. Whatever you want.”

  “I’ve got a sword you can use.”

  “Hey, wait a minute,” said Rumpelstiltskin to Hal. “You can’t fight him.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s trying to sell you a sword. Of course he’s going to let you win.”

  “I am not,” said Bear, who
se expression showed he had exactly that in mind. He gave Rumpelstiltskin a vicious look. “Who said anything about selling the sword? I didn’t bring it up. If I was trying to sell this sword, would I have told the Prince it was defective?”

  “You didn’t. I did.”

  “Although come to think of it, maybe I wasn’t handling it right. I’m a crossbow man myself. This might be a terrific sword in the hands of the right person.” Bear added this last a bit hopefully.

  “There, see?” said Rumpelstiltskin to the Prince.

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Hal. “I’m not challenging you to a duel. Just try out a few cuts and blocks. I want to see how it handles.” He had already gestured for Tommy to bring over some empty grain sacks and was wrapping the heavy cloth around the blade, tying it in place with thick twine. He was wearing his own sword. Now he drew it and laid it before Bear. Bear shrugged and began wrapping that blade also.

  “What is he getting at?” whispered Caroline to Emily. The younger girl could only shake her head.

  Few will question the observation that when men are in close proximity, and ale is in quantity, there is apt to be fighting. And if swords are present, there will frequently be bloodshed. The Bull and Badger had certainly seen its share of drunken combat. At the same time, its patrons were equally familiar with friendly wagers and games of skill, where men young and old would batter each other, often to exhaustion, with blunted weapons. So it came as no surprise when the big man, known to his friends as Bear, and the skinny young man, known to everyone as Prince Hal, stepped outside with padded swords. The crowd followed them out, with enough people carrying lanterns and candles to light the scene. Caroline and Emily found themselves on the inner edge of a circle of spectators, while Bear and Hal squared off in the middle.

  Hal raised the sword above his head, in the position known as a high guard. As he did so, Caroline saw a surprised expression cross his face. He lowered the sword and looked at it. Bear grinned. “Can you feel it? That’s a magic sword, all right.”

  “I feel it,” said Hal. “The sword wants to fight on its own.” He made a few experimental cuts through the air, and to Caroline they seemed noticeably different, more flowing, more circular, than the sparring she had seen among the boys in her village. He drew his dagger and brought the sword to high guard again. Bear drew his dagger also, holding his sword to his side in an outside guard.

  He nodded to show he was ready, and Hal hesitated not a second, immediately swinging the sword down in a movement so fast that Caroline could barely follow it. Not fast enough, though, for Bear parried it with his dagger and swung his own sword at the same time, striking Hal’s side just above the waist.

  Hal doubled over with an audible “oof.” Emily sucked in her breath and Caroline saw most of the crowd wince. Bear said, “Sorry, Your Highness.”

  Hal straightened up. He grimaced with pain, then shook himself and smiled. “No problem, I wasn’t using that kidney anyway.” There was polite laughter from the crowd. “You attack this time.”

  Bear feinted with a vertical cut, drawing back as Hal leaned quickly in to parry the blow. He swung his sword around to cut from the side, but even then the oriental sword was ready, and Hal expertly knocked his blade aside. Bear was now close enough for Hal to draw a cut, and the oriental blade flowed like liquid: yet before Hal could complete the cut he felt the point of the big man’s dagger against the stomach.

  He looked down at the knife. “Methinks it’s time for a strategic withdrawal,” he said, and stepped back. There was more laughter from the crowd this time, and a bit of applause for Bear.

  Caroline couldn’t understand it. She didn’t know how to fence herself, but she had seen enough of the local tournaments to know that Bear’s movements were slow. Sure, he was technically good, and he had more reach than Hal, but any competent boy should have been able to get past the man’s guard. There was something wrong here.

  “One more round,” said the Prince; and then, even before Bear could finish nodding, he leaped forward with a scream, “Hai!” and swung the blade full force at Bear’s head. Startled, Bear threw out an arm and caught the blade on his dagger, the force of the blow driving him down to one knee, and from there he blindly thrust his sword forward. It passed right between Hal’s legs.

  “Ooooo,” said Hal in a mock falsetto, and mugged a face toward his audience. They burst into riotous laughter, for he did look completely ridiculous, with his comical expression and the sword protruding from between his legs in a bawdy manner. He winked at them, then stepped over the blade and gave Bear a hand up. The big man got a round of applause.

  Caroline was furious.

  How can he do this to me? she thought. He had just made a fool of himself, and, therefore, his companions, which included her, in public, out in the streets, in front of a brawling tavern crowd. It was her first night in the city, the city where she intended to find a noble husband—as he well knew—so that appearances counted for everything. She knew that Hal was not good-looking, but at least he carried himself well, behaved like a gentleman, and had a quiet, reserved dignity. Now he had showed himself to be a buffoon, and an incompetent swordsman to boot. For goodness sake, if he wanted to try out the sword, couldn’t he test it somewhere quiet and private?

  “What was that all about?” whispered Emily, coming up behind her. The younger girl looked confused, apparently thinking the same thoughts Caroline had.

  “I don’t know,” said Caroline. “I just hope you’re a better sorceress than Hal is a swordsman.”

  They followed the men inside, who were laughing and talking about weapons, and comparing daggers and blades. Inside, they refilled their glasses and were soon seated around the table once again. Bear unwrapped Hal’s sword and gave it back to him, and Hal unwrapped Bear’s sword, slid it back into its smooth wooden scabbard, and laid it on the scarred wooden table. Bear hardly bothered to look at.

  “You see what I mean, Your Highness? The blade itself is pretty nice, and when you hold it in your hand you can feel the power moving inside it. You can practice with it, and make draws, and cuts, and thrusts, and feints, and the sword seems to know what to do and move on its own, which is what you expect a magic sword to do. I’m not a fool. I wouldn’t be taken in by just any old magic sword scam. This one seems like the real thing. It’s only when you get to actually fighting with it that you find it can’t hold up.”

  The Prince nodded. “I’ll take it. How much do you want for it?”

  It was a somber group that set out for Melinower Palace the next morning. Caroline was still seething over Hal’s performance of the night before, followed by his purchase of the sword, especially as it was becoming clear that the Prince did not seem to have much money. Emily had shrugged it off. “Boys and their swords,” she said. “Who knows what’s going on in their heads when they get into that stuff? And I don’t think you should be so concerned about what the Prince buys. You act like you’re married to him already.”

  “I just don’t like to see money wasted,” said Caroline, whose upbringing had been quite a bit different from Emily’s. But she admitted to herself that it had been more than that. When all you had was your reputation, as Caroline did, you gave a lot of thought to protecting it. Some of the Bull and Badger’s customers were still laughing about last night’s contest. It bothered her that her companions affected not to notice this.

  She was in front of the inn, checking the harness on her horse, when Rumpelstiltskin called her over. The little man had been sitting on a bench by the door, with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He looked thoroughly hungover, and Caroline did not doubt that he and Bear had been up drinking long after the three companions had gone to bed. But he looked up when she stopped in front of him.

  “Listen, kiddo,” he said, then frowned. “Um, I’ve forgotten your name from last night.”

  “Caroline.”

  “Caroline, right. Listen, you stick close to Prince Hal, okay?”


  “Sure,” said Caroline, wondering what brought this on.

  “No, listen. I mean it. I’ve seen a lot of kids like you drift in from the farms, hoping to make their fortune in the city. And this place will chew you up if you don’t keep your head about you.”

  “Sure.”

  “Melinower is a city that is held together by connections. And you don’t have any, you see? As long as you’re by his side, you’re somebody, and people will treat you right. Without him, you’re nobody, and you won’t get the time of day around here. You see? This sorceress girl you’re with—I don’t know about those types. They’ve got their own circles they move in. But for you, Prince Hal is the only connection you’ve got. So you stick with him and don’t let him shake you off. You understand what I’m saying?”

  “I understand. But why are you telling me this?”

  Rumpelstiltskin rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know. I just like your style, that’s all. Or maybe you really will marry a lord—why not, you’ve got the looks, and determination—and then I’ll have a connection, too. But in any case, I see you walking around with a sour look this morning, and I have to tell you, that’s not the way to do it. When you ride into the palace, you better look like you and the Prince are dearest friends, and don’t let anyone suspect different.”

  This was such obviously good advice that Caroline was ashamed of herself for needing to be reminded of it. She immediately switched on her perkiest expression. The change was so dramatic, and with her blond hair swirling around her head and her full lips curved into a smile, so affecting, that Rumpelstiltskin had to sit back and laugh. “That’s the ticket. Keep that up, and you’ll go far.”

  Emily and the Prince came out and mounted their horses. They were a little quiet at first, but Caroline’s cheerfulness lightened their spirits, so all were in a good mood as they rode toward the palace. Hal had wrapped the oriental sword and its scabbard in oiled cloth and stowed it behind his saddle. He was still wearing his own sword. Emily’s head was turning from left to right, taking in the new sights. From her reading and education, she knew what to expect, but to see it all for herself—the paved streets crowded with carts and carriages, people and animals, pie shops with their chimneys puffing smoke, delivery boys staggering comically through the streets with baskets or boxes stacked higher than their heads, couriers in uniform dashing in and out of doorways with missives tucked inside their jackets—as well as all the things she was used to from home; the butchers, bakers, smiths, and such, but many more of them. The streets did not meet in corners but opened up into squares, with statues and fountains and sometimes gardens. School-children in smart uniforms marched double file behind scholars in pasteboard hats and tattered gowns. Down one street a man led a bear cub on a chain and down another she saw a tiny animal with a long curled tail—could that have been a monkey? There were bookstores—she longed to go inside them—and entire shops that sold nothing but sweets.