Heir Apparent

by Vivian Vande Velde

  She giggled some more.

  Grimbold said he would send word to his people that I was working on reclaiming the crown and that they should postpone attacking the castle.

  "Give me three days," I told him, knowing I had only two days, at the most, before the game would end—with or without my having recovered the crown.

  "One," Grimbold said, a hard bargainer despite the feet that he'd just eaten close to an entire roast pig at my table.

  "Two," I countered, and he spat on the floor and slapped his palm on the table, which seemed to mean we had an agreement.

  Queen Andreanna left the table before the pastries were served, murmuring something about having to watch her figure, despite Grimbold's assurance that he liked his women substantial enough to grab hold of.

  In fact, we all left the table before Grimbold had finished eating.

  I had decided it was safest if I accompanied Rawdon and the guards on the expedition to Fairfield, just in case of complications. I hoped that, with Rawdon leading us through the catacombs directly to where he had hidden the gold, I might avoid picking up any ghosts. But, just in case, I decided I'd better take a quick bath now and choose what clothes to wear. Who knew when the next time would be I could do so without witnesses?

  I told Sir Deming I'd chosen him to be in charge of the treasury—what was left of it, plus what we recovered—and that made him almost pleasant. What he said was, "Good decision."

  "Can you suggest someone I might borrow clothes from?" I asked, sending mental vibrations his way that said, Not Lady Bliss, not Lady Bliss.

  Deming looked at me appraisingly, and I was sure he was about to make a disparaging remark. Instead, he said, "If you're going to be running around the countryside digging up treasure, you might do well to borrow one of the page's uniforms."

  It struck me as a good idea, too.

  After bathing and changing, and making a twine necklace to hold the ring, and handing out to the guards their back salaries and their bonuses, it was time to set off for Fairfield. This time we brought provisions in case we were there long enough to get hungry. I left Kenric in charge of the castle because that seemed a good show of trust in him at a time when, in fact, I was fairly confident nothing much would be going on. I brought Captain Penrod with me, since the castle was no longer in danger of barbarian attack.

  Rawdon didn't cause any trouble on the way, being so relieved not to have received a death sentence that he kept trying to kiss my hand. Who would have guessed that such a thing could become excessive?

  In the catacombs I still caught glimpses of things that weren't there and heard echoes of whispers that had never been spoken.

  I didn't have high hopes for not accumulating ghosts.

  It was much easier crawling around tunnels and exploring catacombs while wearing a page's tunic and breeches than it was wearing a red velvet gown made for a woman of the kind Grimbold would definitely have found substantial.

  Rawdon led us to his hiding place. Despite all the trouble he'd caused, I even warned him that the doorway looked rather punky and that it needed to be shored up so it wouldn't collapse.

  I stayed while the guards brought load after load of gold to the waiting wagons; but if any ghosts had attached themselves to me, and if they were going to make sleeping difficult, I knew I should probably get a head start home. Leaving Captain Penrod in charge of escorting the convoy home, I made it back to the castle at about midnight.

  The guards recognized me this time—as well they should, since I was the one who'd given them their money—so they readily let me in. As I walked to the castle, I heard them having trouble raising the drawbridge.

  "Hello, ghosts," I muttered.

  One of them poked me in the ribs, while another pulled my hair.

  The good times were over.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Morning Comes Early When There's No Snooze Button

  Just as I had been warned, the ghosts proved to be a nuisance all night long.

  They moaned.

  They wailed.

  They rattled the window shutters.

  They set the castle hounds to howling.

  It wasn't that their noise was continuous. No, you can get used to just about any sound that never stops. Instead, they periodically grew quiet, giving the impression that they had worn themselves out or gotten bored or taken pity on the castle's inhabitants. I would start to doze. Then a door would slam. A long-dead person would scream. Cobwebby fingers would brush my face.

  My brain knew that my body was lying on a total immersion couch at a Rasmussem Gaming Center, and that probably less than an hour had passed since I'd gotten there on a Saturday afternoon. Try to tell that to the body I felt I was wearing, which was convinced it had been tossing and turning all night.

  I gave up around dawn. A servant had left a bedpan, and a pitcher of water to clean up with. I used both beneath the cover of my blanket, and I dressed under there.

  Despite these precautions, I was pretty sure I heard ghostly laughter.

  While I'd been away at Fairfield, someone had left an elegant gown for today's use, but I once again chose the page's outfit. The way this game had shown a tendency to go—breeches and tunic were a more practical choice than a dress.

  I stuck my head out the door to see if anybody else was up yet. In the hallway, bleary-eyed servants stumbled about their early-morning tasks. And Sister Mary Ursula, wearing her fetching two-towels outfit, was just returning from her skinny-dipping trip. "My soul is refreshed, and I am One with the world," she announced.

  "Congratulations," I mumbled. "Do we go to the Great Hall for breakfast, or is it brought up to our rooms?"

  "Whatever you decree, dear," Sister Mary Ursula said. "You are our next king."

  "In my room would be nice," I said, heading back to bed, too exhausted to check whether she or any of the servants had heard.

  Apparently the ghosts had truly quit come sunrise. I awoke at a slightly more reasonable hour when a sleep-deprived servant came in carrying breakfast. Buttered chocolate Pop-Tarts would have been nice, but I made do with fresh bread and honey.

  "Could you ask Sister Mary Ursula and Sir Deming to meet me in the solar when they finish their breakfasts?" I said.

  The servant, yawning, nodded and shuffled her weary way out.

  I fought the inclination to put my head back down. Surely someone who hoped to be crowned the following day had more important things to do than sleep—no matter how tired I was. There would be time to catch up after I was king.

  I knocked on Kenric's door. Though he was dressed, I wouldn't have sworn he was truly awake. "Somehow or other we seem to have picked up ghosts," he told me.

  I didn't tell him how or who. I said, "We recovered the gold."

  He nodded. "I heard the wagons come in some time between the banshee wailing and the chain dragging."

  So had I. I'd figured if there was any problem, Captain Penrod would have sent for me, despite the hour. In feet, I suspected that the guards who had fetched the gold had an easier night than those of us in our beds in the castle.

  "I'm going to interview the advisers," I told him, "to see which one to name my official appointee. Any suggestions?"

  As I reflected on past games, I saw that Sister Mary Ursula did sometimes give good advice, as when she had warned against trusting Rawdon or eating the venison stew. The trouble was, most often I couldn't tell what she was saying until after the disaster struck. Of course, she had clearly cautioned me regarding magic and Kenric, but I was willing to ignore that. So I thought for a change I'd ask Deming, whom I'd already placed in charge of the treasury. I was pretty sure Kenric would pick him, too—considering that Mr. Rasmussem had warned against choosing both Kenric and Sister Mary Ursula—and that would give me the chance to seem like I was seeking out his advice while I was, in feet, doing what I wanted.

  Kenric said, "All things considered, Rawdon wouldn't be my first choice—though he was my father's counselo
r. And Sister Mary Ursula is a bit..."—he paused and then came up with—"mystical ... for my taste. Deming is a bit of an obsequious toady, but on the whole he's steady."

  Obsequious? Doesn't that mean the kind of person who says, "Yes, sir. No, sir. Please let me grovel at your feet, sir"? Maybe he was obsequious to some of us in the royal family...

  I tried to look thoughtful as I said, "Deming. Hmm."

  Kenric was probably waiting for me to go so he could lay his head down for a few more minutes, so I took pity on him and left.

  In the solar, Sister Mary Ursula was doing tai chi exercises: those slow-motion, almost dancelike stretches. She had changed out of her towels to another outfit; the accent pieces looked like stuff that was either left on the beach by high tide or blown by the wind against a fence. Sir Deming wasn't there yet.

  "Hello," I said. "We haven't had much of a chance to talk." We hadn't—not in this lifetime. Of course, I had been actively avoiding her.

  She didn't stop her exercises, but she said, "I am One with my body."

  "Well, that's good," I told her. "Meanwhile, I was hoping that you might stay while Sir Deming and I discuss matters of state—"

  "Oh no, no." This time she did stop. "Oh dear, no. One counselor is all you need. A unicorn only needs one horn to be a unicorn and not a horse or a goat. A blank sheet of parchment only needs one drop of ink before it is no longer blank. A pretty girl only needs one wart on the end of her nose before she doesn't want to leave her house. One counselor is enough, my dear."

  I really liked the idea of getting multiple possibilities laid out before me, so I pointed out, "Only if the counselor is the right counselor. I want to be One with wisdom."

  Sister Mary Ursula said, "Don't we all?" and resumed her exercises.

  Sir Deming came in then. He raised one eyebrow in surprised disapproval at my boys' clothing. "Didn't Lady Patrice bring a dress for you?" He looked ready to turn right around and search for Lady Patrice to complain that I was dressed inappropriately.

  "Yes," I told him. "But this seemed better suited to me."

  "Oh," he said. I was surprised he could speak at all with his Up so curled in superior disdain. "This is a fashion statement rather than an oversight. I see."

  "Good. Because my wardrobe is not what I'm seeking advice on." I smiled to show I was joking. Yeah, right. "But I do need advice on just about everything else."

  We discussed every detail I could think of concerning the running of my kingdom. We started with taxes: how much the people were charged, how often they paid, what services were provided in return for payment. (Sister Mary Ursula, despite her contention that I didn't need her advice, gave a very loud Hmph! when I didn't abolish the tax system.) We discussed every single law on the books. (Though Deming pursed his lips disapprovingly and said I was asking for anarchy, Sister Mary Ursula hummed approvingly when I abolished capital punishment in favor of fines and community service.) We made plans for the improving of roads and the establishing of schools (who could have ever guessed I'd end up in favor of schools?) and the forming of a trade fair to be held every autumn in the town of Fairfield. I called for riders to announce the proclamations from town to town, hoping that my new way of running things would settle the peasant unrest.

  Deming and I had our midday meal in the solar since we didn't want to stop in the middle of things. That, and I was worried about the ghosts, who were periodically knocking over piles of paper and had already spilled one jar of ink. If they messed up our notes or walked off with something we'd been working on, I was sure we'd never be able to get it right again afterward.

  Sister Mary Ursula had gotten bored and left while we'd been discussing gross national product—which sounds like it means something interesting, but I'd learned in Participation in Government class that it simply means how much, totally, a country owns and produces.

  Deming and I were just finishing when Kenric came by.

  "I thought you'd like to know," he said, "that the magic-users have all arrived, and Mother is even now meeting with them."

  "Well, how kind of her to ask you to tell me about it," I said, knowing—even before his grin—that she had not. "Sir Deming, would you please find Sister Mary Ursula? I'd like the two of you to attend with me. Tell her I know she mistrusts magic, but I would very much appreciate her counsel. And Captain Penrod, too."

  Deming nodded, and I went with Kenric to the Great Hall

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Keeping Everybody (But Me) Happy

  The guards in front of the Great Hall doors didn't wait for me to order them to let us in—which might have had more to do with Kenric than me. Whatever. They saluted and opened the door, and the page blew the trumpet to announce us.

  "Oh," Andreanna said as I entered, "look. Someone has hired a stunted, shoddy little page to help us out. Oh dear; my mistake. It's only Janine."

  Abas gave his surprisingly tittery laugh.

  I asked, "Has lack of sleep made some of us cranky?" though I knew she could sleep as long as Rip van Winkle and still wake up grouchy.

  As last time Xenos and Uldemar sat on one side of the table. The queen, Abas, and Wulfgar sat across from them. This time Orielle was sitting on Wulfgar's lap. I wondered if she had moved to him when Kenric left to fetch me, or if she had only chosen Kenric last time because Wulfgar hadn't been there. I liked to think that Kenric was her first choice but he had told her, "No way. I'm looking for Janine instead of you."

  Uh-huh.

  Not that I would sit on his lap. Not unless, of course, he asked me.

  Andreanna ignored my superior comeback to her ill-tempered jibe and turned her sour face to the guards, ordering, "Close the doors, you incompetent fools."

  "Just leave it for a few moments," I recommended to the men who were pushing, pulling, and throwing their weight against the unmoving doors.

  Now, if you were a castle guard, who would you be more afraid of: me or Queen Andreanna? The guards continued trying to close the door.

  I went to the table and introduced myself. "Hello, I'm Princess Janine. I'm guessing you're Orielle." Orielle gave a dazzling smile that was sure to melt the heart of any young man and to make just about any female want an appointment with a plastic surgeon. I turned to the two men. "And Uldemar and Xenos."

  Uldemar nodded at his name, though Xenos was hiding in his monk's cowl.

  "Welcome," I told all of them. I realized I hadn't properly greeted them last time. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. I truly appreciate your willingness to help."

  My words must have made Xenos feel at home, for he reached into his pocket and tossed a centipede into his mouth.

  Kenric sat down next to Abas, making sure that there was enough room for me to sit beside him.

  At the other end of the room, the ghosts must have finished squeezing through the doorway, for the guards were suddenly able to shut the doors—which slammed with two solid thuds.

  Uldemar took the opportunity to announce, "She brings the stench of the dead with her."

  Because we had all been kept up all night, Andreanna knew exactly what he meant. "Oh, you're the one who let the ghosts in, are you?"

  "Yes," I said. "I'll tell you my plan for them later." Of course, I had no plan, but suggesting I did might be a way to get the queen off my back.

  She gave a suspicious, "Likely, I'm sure!" but didn't demand details.

  One of the ghosts, however, poked me in the ribs.

  It's hard to look self-assured and in command when you've just given a sudden squeal and jumped about a foot out of your seat. "If we're quite ready to settle down..." I said. Nothing from the ghosts, but Sir Deming chose that moment to come in.

  "Sorry to interrupt." Instead of sitting, he cleared his throat. Twice. He had either developed a twitch, or he was trying to signal me about something, giving his head a sideways jerk toward Queen Andreanna. But when she noticed, he immediately stopped and pretended to be scratching his neck.

  Andrean
na snapped, "I hope she hasn't brought lice, as well as ghosts."

  Deming, practicing his obsequious toady manner, said, "No, I'm sure not. Sorry. Just a crick in my neck."

  Andreanna glowered as though the feet that he didn't have lice was a personal affront to her.

  I asked, "Will Captain Penrod and Sister Mary Ursula be joining us?"

  Deming sat down—how could any male resist?—next to Orielle. He told me, "Captain Penrod said that as a simple military man, he could not possibly attend a state meeting. He assures you that he will steadfestly follow and defend whatever policies you set."

  Meaning: "I can carry out instructions, but I can't make suggestions." Silly me.

  "And Sister Mary Ursula..."—Deming sneaked a glance at Andreanna, saw that she wasn't at the moment looking at him, and gave me that look-over-here nod that signified I-had-no-idea-what—"Sister Mary Ursula is on her way." Nod, nod. Seeing both my baffled expression and Andreanna's increasingly impatient one, Deming shrugged.

  Probably just another disaster, I told myself. "OK," I said slowly, "well, then, why don't we get started? I've asked all of you here so we can have a chance to get to know one another, but most pressingly because of the problem with the barbarians."

  "Excuse me," a familiar voice interrupted from the doorway, "but it is not we that are being the problem."

  I looked up and saw that King Grimbold had arrived, with Sister Mary Ursula on his arm.

  Oh, so that's what Deming was trying to warn me about: Queen Andreanna's new beau had invited himself.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "Terrible wording on my part. The problem is not you and your people; the problem is how to win the friendship and gain the trust of you and your people by recovering that which has been taken from you."

  Grimbold gave a solemn bow to indicate he accepted my explanation.

  "Please have a seat." I gestured to the bench across the table, where only Xenos and Uldemar sat.

  But Grimbold squeezed himself in between Abas and Andreanna. "Have you been missing me as muchly as I have been missing you, you delectable woman you?" he asked Andreanna.