Wrede, Patricia C - SSC (21 page)

Willin turned white. "It's
still in the armory. Oh, Your Majesty, I don't know how it happened."

"You forgot," Daystar
said. "Never mind. I'll get it." He started for the castle at a dead
run.

"Don't forget the oven
mitt," Cimorene called after him.

"Why doesn't he just do that
popping-out-of-the-air thing?'' Tamriff asked. Having been around the palace
for a month, he'd had ample opportunity to see Daystar's usual method of
getting places in a hurry.

"There are spells to prevent
people from using magic too close to the armory," Mendanbar said. "A
wizard stole something from me once, and it caused a lot of trouble. Since that
business finally got straightened out, I've been more careful." He
scowled, as if he was remembering something unpleasant. Then Cimorene touched
his arm and he looked at her and smiled.

"The knights are coming,"
Cimorene said, nodding toward the field. "You'll have to make a speech
before they start the bake-off, or Daystar won't be back with the pan in
time."

Mendanbar grimaced, nodded, and
walked to the front of the tables. The knights and heroes lined up in front of
him. Several of them had black eyes from the round of fighting, and one had his
left arm in a sling. As Mendanbar began to speak, Cimorene frowned slightly and
said in a low voice, "Maybe we should have held the bake-off first. They'd
have been in better shape."

"I beg your pardon, Your
Majesty, but it wouldn't have worked," Willin said. "Fighting always
comes first at a tourney, and they wouldn't have put up with changing the order
of events
and
holding a cooking contest."

"I suppose you're right,"
Cimorene said. "Oh, good, here comes Daystar."

"Where do you want it?"
Daystar said.

"On the main table,"
Cimorene told him. "I'll show you."

Halfway to the table, they were
intercepted by a blond scullery maid in a crisp white apron. "Excuse me,
sir," she said to Willin, "but the cook is running out of onions, and
he wants to know—"

There was a loud explosion, and an
enormous puff of black smoke appeared in the open space behind the tables.
Everyone stopped talking and stared, including the knights and heroes. Slowly
the smoke cleared, leaving a spreading smell like sour milk and revealing a
very tall, thin man wearing a doublet of aquamarine silk, white hose, and a
great many diamonds. In a voice that carried to the farthest edges of the crowd,
he called, "Annalisa! I know you're here, so you might as well come out.
It's time you came home."

"Drat," said the blond
scullery maid under her breath, and ducked behind Cimorene. Cimorene looked
slightly startled; then she smiled and jerked her head at Daystar. Daystar
moved over to stand beside her, effectively screening the scullery maid from
sight.

"Annalisa!" the thin man
called again.

Mendanbar pushed his crown back on
his head and stepped up to the newcomer. "I expect you'll get around to
explanations and introductions eventually," he said pointedly.

The thin man tried to look down his
nose at Mendanbar, but Mendanbar was too tall for it to work at all well.
"I am Rothben the Great, King of the Gracious Islands, and a mighty
enchanter."

"He is not!" cried a
voice from the crowd of knights, and a handsome, dark-haired man in brightly
polished armor pushed his way to the front. "Well, maybe the enchanter
part. But Annalisa is the rightful Queen of the Gracious Islands, and I will
defend her with my honor and my life. Whether she's here or not."

"Drat
and
bother,"
said the scullery maid from behind Cimorene and Daystar. "What's Harold
doing here?"

"He probably came for the
tourney," Cimorene murmured. "Most of them did. You're a princess, I
take it?"

"More or less," the
scullery maid said.

"I
knew
I should have
interviewed all of the new staff myself."

The thin man smiled nastily at
Harold the knight. "Ah, Sir Harold. You know, I think you'd be much less
nuisance as a pollywog." He pointed, and a long stream of green fire shot
from the tip of his finger toward Harold.

Mendanbar made an almost undetectable
movement with his fingers, and the green fire vanished before it ever reached
the knight. The thin man looked around, startled. "What. . . ? Who did
that?"

"I did," Mendanbar said.
"I'm the King of the Enchanted Forest, and you can't work magic here without
my permission. Particularly not on my guests."

"You are a poor, jumped-up
excuse for a king, and I shall teach you a lesson you won't soon forget,"
said the thin man, and began muttering and gesturing at Mendanbar.

"Oh, dear," said the
scullery maid. "Excuse me, Your Majesty, Your Highness, but I have to stop
this." Stepping out from her concealment, she called, "Uncle
Rothben!"

The thin man stopped gesturing and
turned. "Ah, Annalisa. I see you have finally come to your senses."

"Not the way you mean,
Uncle," the scullery maid said.

"Say the word and I will spit
him where he stands!" Sir Harold said, glaring at the thin man.

"Do be quiet, Harold,"
said Annalisa. "He'd turn you into a newt or something before you even got
close. Uncle, you can't think you're going to get away with kidnapping me in
full view of all these people."

"Why not?" said the thin
man, walking toward her. "Once we're married—"

"You're my
uncle!
I
couldn't marry you, even if you hadn't stolen my kingdom." Annalisa backed
away as the enchanter drew nearer, and bumped into Day-star.

"Don't be foolish, girl."
The enchanter grabbed her wrist.

"That's quite enough of
that," Mendanbar said, and raised his hands. Unfortunately, all the
knights and heroes seemed to agree with him. They rushed forward in grand
disorder, shouting and getting in each other's way. In the process, one of them
managed to knock Mendanbar over from behind. Rothben glanced at the untidy knot
of useless people, grinned, and began muttering a spell under his breath.

"Let go of me!" Annalisa
pulled away and bumped into Daystar again. Grabbing at his arm for balance, her
hand fell on the Frying Pan of Doom. With a cry of satisfaction, she pulled it
out of his grasp, turned, and brought it down hard on her uncle's head.

With a noise like a bubble bursting
in a pan of boiling water, Rothben the Great turned into an enormous poached
egg.

There was a long, startled silence.
Then Daystar said in tones of great satisfaction, "So
that's
what
the Frying Pan of Doom does."

"The what?'' said Annalisa,
staring at the poached egg.

"The Frying Pan of Doom,"
Cimorene said. "It appears that
you
are the proper person to have
it. It's not burning your hand, is it?"

"No."

"Good." She signaled
Willin to have the castle staff clean up the poached egg, which was oozing
messily all over the lawn. "Then we don't have to hold the bake-off after all."

A murmur rose from the crowd. Sir
Harold, who had been staring at Annalisa, shook his head and walked over to
Cimorene. "Don't cancel the bake-off, Your Majesty. It was officially
announced, and it ought to go through." He lowered his voice and added
confidentially, "And some of the boys have really been looking forward to
it. Not that they'd ever admit it."

So they held the bake-off after
all. A barbarian swordsman with gigantic muscles and a fur cloak won with his
Quick After-Battle Triple Chocolate Cake, though everyone agreed that Sir
Harold's Hack-'N'-Slash Coleslaw had been a strong contender. At least one
engagement was broken because the bride-to-be couldn't bear having a fiance who
cooked better than she did, and four others were contracted on the spot by
farsighted princesses and ladies who felt that such an arrangement might have
distinct advantages in the long run. The barbarian was mobbed by princesses
eager to taste his cake and by mothers eager to get hold of his recipe.

"All in all, a very satisfactory
conclusion," Mendanbar said, stretching his long legs. The royal family,
Willin, Tamriff, Annalisa, and Sir Harold had gathered in the throne room once
everyone had gone home, to discuss the events of the day. Annalisa still
carried the Frying Pan of Doom, having presented the barbarian swordsman with
an enchanted silver ax from the armory and ten pounds of chocolate from the
kitchen instead.

"I don't think we're quite
done yet," Cimorene said, and looked at Annalisa. "How did you come
to be in our kitchen?"

"After my parents died and
Uncle Rothben seized the kingdom, my fairy godmother showed up in my bedroom in
the middle of the night," Annalisa said. "She told me to leave right
away and find a job as a kitchen maid in some other castle."

"Wouldn't it have been better
if she offered to help you get your kingdom back?" Daystar said.

"Fairy godmothers tend to be
very traditional," Cimorene said. "I doubt that it occurred to her.
Was that all, Annalisa?"

"Well, she gave me a dress as
shining as the stars and said I was to wear it to the ball. I thought that was
a little strange. I mean, I didn't think kitchen maids got invited to balls.
I've still got it around somewhere."

"What are you going to do
now?" Mendanbar asked.

"She's going back to the Gracious
Islands to be queen, of course," Sir Harold said. "And I shall be her
faithful knight."

"No, I don't think so,
Harold," said Annalisa gently.

"But you have to go back!
You're the rightful queen!" Sir Harold looked thoroughly shocked.

"Yes, but I'm going back
alone. If I'm going to be a queen, I need to do it myself. If you came, I'd
depend on you too much."

Sir Harold looked as if he wasn't
sure whether to be flattered or upset. "But what are you going to do about
your uncle's cronies and henchmen? He brought in rather a lot of them after you
left, you know."

Annalisa looked down at the Frying
Pan of Doom and smiled. "Oh, I think I'll be able to handle them
somehow."

"I don't know what Father is
going to think of this," Tamriff muttered, shaking his head.

"He ought to be pleased,"
Cimorene said. "His magic creation has found its proper owner, defeated a
powerful enchanter, and is about to restore the rightful queen to her throne.
What more could he ask?"

"Your father made that?"
Sir Harold said to Tamriff, waving at the frying pan.

"Well, he enchanted it. Before
that, it was just Mother's best frying pan."

"I've always wanted a magic
sword. Do you suppose he would do something a little less dramatic, if I asked
very politely?"

Tamriff nodded. "There are plenty
of lesser spells he could use."

"Then if Annalisa is sure she
doesn't want my help at home—"

Annalisa nodded.

"—I think I'll go with
you," Sir Harold said.

"In the morning,"
Cimorene said firmly. "It's much too late for you to leave now. You'll all
be our guests tonight, and you can start off after breakfast tomorrow morning."

Sir Harold started to nod, then
caught himself. "As long as you won't be serving poached eggs for
breakfast," he said cautiously.

"No poached eggs,"
Mendanbar said. "And that really
does
take care of everything.''

"Not quite," Willin said.
Everyone looked at him, and he coughed in mild embarrassment. "We appear
to be in need of a new scullery maid."

The visitors looked at each other,
Mendanbar chuckled, Daystar shook his head, and Cimorene threw her hands up in
the air. "Put an ad in the paper," she said to Willin. "And
this
time, I'm going to interview everyone myself."

"Yes, Your Majesty,"
Willin said, bowing, and everyone laughed.

Transcribed by Patricia C. Wrede

Transcriber's Note:
This is
the original recipe as used by the barbarian swordsman. Amounts and
instructions for somewhat more conventional kitchens are given in parentheses.

First, round up the prisoners and
have them make a good fire. Pile shields around it to hold in heat. (Preheat
oven to 350°.)

Assemble ingredients:

Butter the size of a good spear
head (1 stick butter or margarine)

A good big fistful of brown sugar
(½ cup brown sugar, packed)

A big fistful of white sugar (½ cup
white sugar) A couple of eggs (2 large eggs)

A good splash of vanilla (2
teaspoons vanilla extract)

Secret Magic Ingredient (2
Tablespoons blackstrap molasses)

Milk from a chocolate cow (⅔ cup
chocolate milk)

A small fistful of cocoa
(
⅓
cup unsweetened cocoa)

Two or three fistfuls of flour (1
cup flour)

Pinch of salt (½ teaspoon salt)

Two pinches soda (1 teaspoon baking
soda)

Hunk of chocolate, hacked into bits
with second-best sword (1 6-ounce package semisweet chocolate chips)

Pick a small shield and clean it,
then grease it up good. Sprinkle in a little flour and save it for later.
(Grease and flour a 13" X 9" pan.)

In somebody else's helmet, beat
butter and brown sugar and white sugar together—make sure helmet is clean
before using! Add eggs and beat some more. Add vanilla and Secret Magic
Ingredient and beat it all again. (In a large bowl, cream butter or margarine
until fluffy. Add brown sugar and white sugar and mix thoroughly. Add eggs,
vanilla, and blackstrap molasses, beating well after each addition.)

Stir flour, cocoa, salt, and soda
together in whatever is handy. Add to batter, alternating with milk. Beat real
good. Stir in chocolate pieces. (In a separate container, stir flour, cocoa,
salt, and baking soda together. Beat into butter mixture, alternating with the
chocolate milk. Beat for 1—2 minutes, then fold in chocolate chips.)