The Runaway Princess (21 page)

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Authors: Kate Coombs

BOOK: The Runaway Princess
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“Give us the princes of Tarylon and Lors,” another voice said.
Dorn and Dagle came up beside the housekeeper. “Those two are frogs just now,” Dagle said, waving a drumstick. “Not available for conversation.”
A great uproar outside the gate greeted these words. Dorn and Dagle looked at each other, surprised. “'S true,” Dorn said with a shrug.
The housekeeper turned her fierce eyes on them. “What do you mean causing trouble?”
“Trouble?” Dorn stepped to the gate. “Hey there, who are you fellows?”
A trumpet blared, and someone announced grandly, “The kings of Tarylon and Lors seek redress for the abduction and foul enchantment of their sons.”
“Oh,” Dagle said, catching on. “Angry parents.”
VANTOR AND HIS MEN CAME SWEEPING DOWN the road. Beaknose had pointed out they would never find the bandits without horses. Vantor had begrudgingly agreed. They would go back to the castle. Vantor's men would re-outfit in Crown while the prince pressed the king to call him the contest winner.
“We'd better find that crazy princess,” Vantor added.
Beaknose said nothing, but he touched his nose gingerly.
“Take Wott and search for her.”
“Someone's coming,” Beaknose said, grateful to change the subject.
Vantor called a halt. He and his men watched the king and queen of Greeve come over the crest of the road, followed by the prime minister and a gaggle of footsore noblemen. All of them were walking except the queen, who rode a mule. “Greetings, Your Majesty,” Vantor said.
The king frowned. “Any sign of the bandits?”
“Not yet. That is, we returned to their camp, but it was abandoned.”
“Where's Hanak?”
“There were two trails. Hanak and his men followed the other, into the woods.”
“I see.” The king's face was glacial. Vantor looked at the queen. Her expression was just as stiff. Even the courtiers and the little servant girl seemed hostile. The prime minister stared at the ground.
“Is something wrong, Majesties?” Vantor asked.
“Oh, not at all,” Stromgard said. “My daughter is missing again, the bandits have escaped, the witch is still at large, and you appear to be a liar and a thief.”
Vantor's hand went to his sword hilt. “What do you mean?” he asked tightly.
“Much as I dislike that bandit prince, my wife has informed me the treasure you gave us is missing certain identifiable items, and the dragon bones are arguably in a state of advanced decay.”
Vantor's face grew still. “You believe this foolishness?”
The king nodded. “I'm going to fetch my daughter home and apologize for doubting her word.”
“And me?”
“I'm afraid you're disqualified,” the king said. “The question remains: where is the rest of the dragon's hoard?”
Vantor smiled. “You're not going to declare me the winner?”
“Certainly not.”
“Then I declare myself the winner,” Vantor said softly. “And the king of Greeve.” He signaled his men. They moved forward to surround the king's party.
But the queen was too quick for them. She kicked the mule, hard. The creature brayed and ran back up the road toward the castle.
“Go after her!” Vantor barked at Bear and Beaknose. The two men raced away. “Now let us proceed to retrieve my own willful queen,” Vantor told his prisoners.
“Not my Margaret!” the king cried. Just behind him, Dilly turned white.
“Gag him,” Vantor ordered. “And anyone else who dares to speak against me,” he said as the prime minister opened his mouth. Garald snapped his mouth shut. As soon as the king's mouth was covered, Vantor sneered, “The girl is
my
Margaret now. Along with the spoils of this contest.” The prince spoke in a mocking whisper. “Sadly, I suspect that bandits will get to poor old Stromgard in short order.”
 
Hanak and his men surged through the trees into the bandits' former camp, only to find Vantor gone. “Untie them,” Hanak said, gesturing toward Vantor's unfortunate guards. The men were soon brought before the captain.
“Well?” Hanak asked.
Five of Vantor's men refused to meet Hanak's eyes,
but the sixth looked up. “I'll help you! It's not like he was ever going to give us any of that gold.”
The other prisoners appeared even more disheartened. Hanak noticed they didn't disagree.
“Tell me what happened,” Hanak said. “No, wait. Arbel!”
“Yes, Captain.”
“These men have been through a lot. Bring them water and something to eat.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Sit down,” Hanak said, sitting on a large rock himself. “And tell me all about it.”
When Vantor's man was finished, Hanak stood. “Where do you think Vantor will go?”
The man shrugged. “He'll search the moors for those bandits. He'll want the treasure back.”
“Very well.” Hanak divided his guards into three groups. “You men will help me scour the moors for Vantor and the escaped bandits,” he said, pointing to the largest group. He turned to the next contingent. “Arbel, you'll march to the castle with the prisoners and notify the king of what has happened.”
“And us?” asked a man in the third and smallest group.
“You're going to assist the men I sent to find the princess. Pagget's in charge.”
Soon Hanak and his guardsmen had dispersed to carry out their respective duties, and the bandit's camp lay empty, waiting to be reclaimed by the moors.
 
 
At Hookhorn Farm, Janna hugged Cam while Meg hugged the dragon, and after that Janna hugged Meg while Cam didn't hug Gorba.
“The magic worked!” Janna cried. “You got him back!”
“Of course it did,” Gorba said with satisfaction.
Meg hugged Gorba, too. “That invisibility spell worked a little too well.”
“What do you mean?”
Janna hurried to serve them shepherd's pie and milk. Then Meg had to tell the whole story over again between bites. The dragon, who had grown quite plump, draped himself over her feet as she talked.
“By my cows and hens,” Janna exclaimed when Meg had finished. “What hasn't happened to you two!”
A muffled croak punctuated her words. “What was that?” Cam asked.
Janna blushed. “Just a few frogs.” She busied herself taking a fresh batch of biscuits out of the oven.
Meg raised her brows. “You let them in?” A row of milk pails lined the far wall. Green heads rose to peep out at the new arrivals. Meg waved at the frog princes. One by one the heads dropped back into the buckets.
“Gorba's been a great help,” Janna said defensively.
Gorba's face was smug.
The scarf chose that moment to wind itself out of Meg's pocket. “Oh!” Meg said, remembering. “I suppose I'd better give your scarf back.” The scarf flipped behind
her shoulder and peeked over at Gorba, looking a bit like the frogs peering over the rims of their pails.
“It's quite taken with you, lass. You'd better keep it.”
“Thank you, Gorba!”
“Creature never did half that stuff for me,” Gorba grumbled. “I should probably be getting home.” She turned her gaze on Meg and Cam. “Now that you've found your true love and all.”
Meg turned red, remembering the witch's flowery words about her friendship with the gardener's boy. Cam was no help. He chuckled. Even Janna smiled.
Meg ignored all of this as best she could. “The contest isn't over,” she told the witch. “Vantor says he's won, but he's still trying to find you. And me, too, I suppose.”
“He won't come
here
,” Janna said comfortably. “Have a biscuit.”
 
Nort and Lex took up their post behind a flowering bush that stood near the road leading from Crown to the castle. The wizard's sparks were full of news. “It's two kings from the north,” Lex told Nort. “They're angry because their sons have been turned into frogs.”
“So they just want their sons back?”
Lex shook his head. “Apparently they figure they'll take over Greeve as long as they're here.”
“But the king's gone,” Nort said. “Where's Hanak?”
“He and Vantor went after the bandits.”
“Then there's no one left to guard the castle!” Nort said. He threw his shoulders back. “Except us.”
“Still the guardsman?” Lex asked.
“Someone
needs to take care of things,” Nort said hotly.
Lex shrugged. “One king is as good as another, I would think.”
“Don't you know anything?”
“Not about kings,” Lex admitted without rancor.
“It's Meg's father,” Nort pointed out.
“I thought she was mad at him.”
“That doesn't mean she would like this. Are you going to help?”
“It might be fun,” the young wizard said. “I've never stopped an army before.”
“Can you?” Nort asked.
Lex frowned. “Long enough to get us into the castle.”
“And destroy the invaders?”
“You mean kill them?” Lex asked. “All those men?”
“Well, no. I guess not.”
“I told you, I'm not an evil wizard,” Lex said reprovingly. “You can guard the castle once we're inside.”
“Right,” Nort said with just a touch of regret.
“Now, I can protect you magically, but I can't protect myself.”
“From what?”
“From the effects of the spell. As soon as I laugh or even smile, it will stop working.”
“What do you mean?” Nort asked, but Lex was already
touching Nort's eyes and ears, chanting. Nort forced himself to hold still. “Get ready,” Lex said. “When I tell you, you have to cover my ears. I'll cover my own eyes.”
“But you won't be able to see where you're going,” Nort objected.
“You'll be my guide.”
They crossed the road and headed toward the army. When they got closer, one of the soldiers turned around. “Go away, boys of Greeve,” he said, his voice oddly accented.
Lex made a series of sounds like birdcalls. “Now!” he said.
Nort clapped his hands over Lex's ears and Lex covered his eyes with his own hands just as the soldier watching them snorted. The soldier giggled. And chortled. And guffawed. The soldier next to him began to laugh, and the next man, and the next. Soon the entire rear squadron was laughing, slapping their knees and grunting. One of them laughed like an insane horse. Someone else squeaked. One by one the soldiers fell down and rolled around, still laughing.
“Quartz and feldspar, granite and graphite,” Lex intoned solemnly. “Seven times eight is fifty-six.”
Nort pushed Lex forward, stepping between the fallen soldiers. Ahead of them, the men were dropping in ranks, and the sound of their laughter began to drown out Lex's voice. “Don't smile, don't smile,” Nort told Lex, even though Lex couldn't hear him.
They trudged forward. In a matter of moments, Nort and Lex were nearly to the castle. Noblemen and kings lay on the ground before the castle gates, laughing themselves breathless. Beyond them, puzzled faces looked out through the heavy iron grating.
Then one of the kings rolled right under Lex's feet, and both boys stumbled over him and fell. Lex's ears were freed. His eyes flipped open. At the sight and sound of the hysterical army, Lex himself laughed.
All of the other laughter stopped. The soldiers rose to their feet in a great, angry mass, brushing themselves off.
“Oops,” said Nort as the two kings glared at him and the young wizard. One of the kings raised his sword.
Lex nearly doubled over laughing, all by himself. Nort nudged him.
The kings had lifted their eyes to look past the boys. Nort and Lex turned around to see why.
Behind them, the soldiers parted ranks, whispering. A single figure rode up to the castle gates, a delicate woman on a mule.
Though Queen Istilda was no longer sixteen, she was certainly a damsel in distress. Her fair hair curled about her shoulders, her lips trembled, and her blue eyes filled with tears. “Good sirs,” she cried out as she stopped before the invading monarchs, “you have come to our aid!”
King Jal lowered his sword. “Well now. What seems to be the trouble?” he asked.
The queen looked from one king to the other. “You're not from Rogast, are you?”
“Tark of Tarylon,” the second king said, saluting gallantly.
“Jal of Lors,” said that doughty man.
The queen let out her breath. Another tear crept down her cheek. “I am Queen Istilda, and young Vantor of Rogast has dealt with my kingdom most grievously.”
The kings stepped closer, lowering their formidable brows. “What has he done?”
“May I offer you some refreshment while I tell the tale?” the queen said, indicating the castle gates with one slender hand.

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