Snow White and Rose Red (42 page)
Read Snow White and Rose Red Online
Authors: Patricia Wrede
“I think thou hast little need to fear that now,” Hugh said with a quick glance toward Blanche.
“For once thou speakest truly, for neither thou nor thy brother will e‘er see the court again,” Madini said, savoring the words.
Hugh’s expression sobered, but Robin shook his head. “I am desolated to contradict thee a second time, but thou‘rt wrong,” he said, looking rather pleased with himself and not at all desolated. “Hugh will be welcomed back without a doubt. His banishment originated in his bearish form; that remedied, there’s naught to keep him from returning. As for John”—he paused tantalizingly—“’tis surely not for thee to say.”
“Robin, dost thou have news?” John demanded. “I thought ‘twas but thy curiosity that drew thee here!”
“What else?” Madini said loftily. “This puffed-up sprite’s no courtier; he knows naught of matters such as this.”
“Again I fear thou‘rt wrong,” Robin said. He looked, if possible, even more smug than before. “In truth, I’ve but now come from court.”
“Speak plainly, then, and tell us what thou knowest,” Hugh commanded. “I’ve little patience with thy prevarications today.”
“I see thy change in form hath not improved thy humor,” Robin commented. “Well, an thou must have it. The Queen thy mother hath decreed thy brother’s exile is suspended for a time, that he may come to Faerie and report his recent sojourn in the mortal world.” He shook his hair out of his eyes and looked at John, and for once his expression was serious. “‘Tis not certain thou’lt be allowed to remain, look thou, for thou didst cross the Queen’s command. But thou‘lt be allowed to plead thy case.”
“How’s this?” Madini cried. “Thou liest! The Queen doth not alter her decrees.”
The mischievous look returned to Robin’s face. “Ah, but it seems the counsel she received in this was poor, so she hath reconsidered. She’ll want to see you all, I think,” he added with a negligent wave that included Hugh and the Widow’s family. “Oh, yes; you’ll cause a great stir at the court. I make no doubt thou‘lt start a new fashion, Hugh.”
“What does the Queen of Faerie want of us?” the Widow said, swallowing hard.
“Your stories, first of all,” Robin answered. He glanced at Hugh. “And I think when your tales are told there’ll be rewards for all your services. The Queen likes not to leave a debt unpaid.”
“Thou wouldst bring mortals to the Faerie court?” Madini said in tones of mingled distaste and disbelief.
“By the Queen’s command,” Robin replied. “And I’d advise thee to be circumspect in thy objections, an thou hast any.” He hesitated, as if he were about to add to his remarks, but Madini cut him off.
“We’ll see who knows best how to persuade the Queen,” she said. “And thou‘lt regret thy meddling, that I promise thee!” With that, the Faerie woman turned and swept off, vanishing into a shower of sparks before she had gone three paces.
“A pretty trick,” Robin murmured, eyeing the spot where Madini had disappeared with a frown, “but dost thou not think ‘twas a trifle vulgar to make such a show, John?”
“It matters not,” John said. “Robin, how didst thou persuade the Queen to consent to my return? And what good dost thou think to do by bringing Widow Arden and her daughters to the court? ‘Tis bad enough to take me back; if matters go awry, thou’lt suffer for it. But to drag unwilling mortals—”
“Have we said we are unwilling?” Rosamund interrupted.
“No, but ‘tis plain thy mother likes it not,” John said.
“Even so, ‘twere better thou didst not put words into my mouth,” the Widow said unexpectedly. “I’ll hear what thy friend has to say, ere I choose what I’ll do.”
“I’d thought but to give thee a chance to speak before the court,” Robin said, answering John’s first question as though no one else had said anything at all. “But that was before I found Hugh so unexpectedly restored. As to how ‘twas done, ’twas not so difficult. I told the Queen what thou didst tell me some weeks past, when first we met within the forest there.”
“Thou—” Words failed John.
“Thou didst not think,” Hugh said to Robin. “If the Queen was sure the fault was John’s before, she’ll be more certain still since he has disobeyed her.”
Robin shrugged. “Howe‘er it be, ’tis done, and now the Queen hath summoned thee to Faerie, and thy companions here as well, that she may hear the story as a whole and thus unravel all this tangled weaving.”
“We’ll come,” the Widow said. Rosamund, who had been preparing for a battle, gaped at her mother, her mouth full of unneeded arguments. Blanche only smiled. Then she glanced at Hugh, and her expression sobered, and she looked away.
They left almost immediately. The slight delay was to allow Hugh to put on his brother’s jerkin and rewrap the blanket about his waist. Nothing could be done about breeches, hose, or shoes; the Widow had long ago dispensed with every piece of her late husband’s clothing that would bring in a farthing, and what had not been sold had been remade to serve herself or her daughters.
Their progress was, therefore, quite slow, but fortunately they did not have to go far. They were just inside the forest, still within sight of the cottage roof and barely out of view of the road, when they saw the faint distortion of the air, like a heat haze somehow formed in the shadows under the trees, that was the border of Faerie.
“I’ve never known it to come so close before!” Rosamund said, glancing over her shoulder to make sure she could still see the cottage.
“The Queen’s assisting us,” John said. “She must be anxious for our arrival.”
The Widow’s expression grew more troubled, and Rosamund edged closer to John as they walked.
“She’ll have to wait a little longer,” Hugh said firmly. He indicated the blanket. “I’ll not appear before the court like this, though I be exiled thrice over for my tardiness.”
“Thou dost lack daring,” Robin commented in a disapproving tone.
“‘Tis not everyone’s ambition to set the court by the ears,” Hugh answered. “There’ll be stir enough to suit me when I walk in as man instead of beast.”
They crossed the border and went on. The air of Faerie seemed even brighter than usual, the colors still more vivid, the scents of spring yet more intense. Strange birds sang merrily in the treetops as they passed, or now and again dove across their path in a flash of orange and yellow feathers. John was silent, drinking in the sights and sounds and smells and storing them up against the future. Rosamund, sensing something of his mood, was also quieter than was her wont.
At last they came to a stand of ancient oak trees, their branches scarred and twisted by centuries of storms. In the midst of the oaks stood the palace of the Faerie Queen, its outflung wings and soaring towers blending smoothly into the forest around it. Long green ropes of ivy and wild grapevines decked the palace front, weaving intricate patterns against the ocean-colored marble. An inlay of precious stones arched above the gleaming wooden doors, and the walk that led up to them through the trees was paved in malachite and edged with tiny red flowers.
Robin, Hugh, and John did not give the women much time for observation. They hurried inside, down corridors of rose quartz, amethyst, and agate, through rooms with walls inlaid in yew, mahogany, and cedar. In a white-walled suite that smelled of thyme and rosemary, Hugh left them briefly.
He returned arrayed in a splendor that suited his surroundings. His jerkin and breeches were of velvet, midnight blue embroidered with silver, and the stiff white ruff at his neck was edged with silver lace. His boots were soft and close-fitting, dyed the same color as his jerkin, and his hose were white silk. A velvet hat with a white plume and a white wool cloak edged with ermine completed the costume.
“Robin’s right; thou‘lt make a stir indeed,” John said as he put his own plain wool jerkin back on.
Robin did not give Hugh time to respond, but hurried the little group back out into the corridor and down a hall of milky jade to a set of doors made of carved and gilded wood. He flung them open, and with a flourish motioned to the Widow and her daughters to enter.
CHAPTER · TWENTY-SIX
“ ‘I am a prince, who was bewitched by the dwarf,’ the man told the two girls. ‘He stole my jewels and forced me to live in the forest as a bear. Now his death has freed me, and he has gotten the punishment he deserves. ’ ”
BEYOND THE DOOR WAS A HIGH MARBLE HALL FILLED with the glitter of the Faerie court. An aisle had been left clear from the door to the crystal throne on which the Queen of Faerie sat, her perfect face expressionless as she watched the mortal women enter. Just beside the throne stood Madini, her face as unrevealing as the Queen’s. The Widow sank at once into a profound curtsy, and Rosamund and Blanche followed her example. Behind them, Hugh doffed his hat and bowed in time with Robin and John.
“I welcome you to Faerie, mortals,” the Queen said. “My will hath brought you here, and ‘tis my will that you leave Faerie safely when my questions have been answered.”
A faint stir of astonishment passed over the assembled courtiers, like the ripple of a
field
of wheat at a puff of wind, which grew as Hugh straightened and they saw him clearly for the first time. Madini stood motionless, her eyes glittering.
field
of wheat at a puff of wind, which grew as Hugh straightened and they saw him clearly for the first time. Madini stood motionless, her eyes glittering.
“Thou hast been longer at thy task than I expected, Robin,” the Queen went on, and there was more than a hint of displeasure in her tone.
“The delay was my doing,” Hugh said, stepping forward. “I pray Your Majesty to pardon him.”
“Such welcome news as thy return was surely worth the wait,” the Queen replied. “But tell us how it comes about that thou‘rt restored to us.”
“That story properly belongs to Mistress Arden and her daughters,” Hugh answered with a small bow in the direction of the Widow.
“So it be told, it matters not who does the telling,” the Queen said. “Mistress Arden, if you will, begin.”
The Widow stepped forward hesitantly, curtsied once again, and began as best she could with the alarms and uncertainties of the previous fall. She made Rosamund and Blanche recount their accidental eavesdropping on Dee and Kelly’s spell on All Hallows’ Eve. The girls, together with John, told the story of their involuntary night in Faerie and John’s escape by following them, invisible. Then the Widow took up the tale once more, speaking of the vision she had seen in her scrying spell and the first appearance of the bear. She touched lightly on the months of winter work that led to the first attempt to disenchant Hugh. John spoke quietly of his reunion with his brother and the endeavor to combine mortal and Faerie magic in reversing Dee and Kelly’s spell on May Eve Day. Hugh described how they had witnessed the beginning of Dee and Kelly’s second spell-casting, which had been interrupted by Bochad-Bec’s theft of the lamp.
The Faerie Queen listened with particular intentness to Hugh, but she did not ask any questions and no one else dared to interrupt. The Widow took up the tale again, covering the two frustrating months of Hugh’s deterioration which culminated in John’s invisible invasion of Dee’s house in search of the crystal. John and the girls described that inconclusive effort in counterpoint, and again the Queen seemed unusually interested, most notably in John’s description of the water fay he had seen in the crystal. John told of the message he had sent into Faerie, and Robin’s agreeing to assist him, and Blanche and Rosamund explained why and how they had concocted their vial of ointment.
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