A Princess of Sorts

by Wilma van Wyngaarden

  “... after escaping the terrible fate of the rest of her family! The king and his family have been struck down by betrayal... the princess... ” Mako lost momentum. She suspected he had forgotten her name.

  “Scylla,” she supplied, just loudly enough for him to hear.

  “... Princess Scylla was saved and escaped into the forest. She is suffering from exposure but recovering quickly!”

  “Why can’t she walk?” came a woman’s shrill question.

  “She’s sprained her ankle.” The blonde angel leaned over and pulled the blanket away from her aching ankle. The air was cold and she flinched. He gently raised her foot, and she peered down to see her swollen appendage, which was horribly bruised in shades of black, blue and red.

  “Oooh,” sighed the crowd in collective sympathy.

  “Good lord,” she echoed faintly. No wonder her ankle throbbed.

  “She’s been walking on that for three days,” Mako thundered. “Escaping from the villains that foully murdered the king and queen and the princes.”

  The blonde angel tucked her foot back into the blanket and she gave him a grateful nod.

  Visible past the crowd, past the houses, down the road, a dust cloud was approaching. Horses and men... moving fast towards them.

  Mako and the angels sucked in their breath. The crowd turned heads and craned to see. They pulled back, parting to make some space. Princess Scylla could make out the triumphant face of her cousin Darwyn. Now there was a true devil.

  “How many men?” Mako was saying urgently to his soldiers, whose hands gripped their sword hilts. Scylla could see now that what she had thought were wings on the shoulders of the blonde angel was actually a sheep’s pelt. The wool was cream-colored, fluffy, and could have used a wash.

  “A handful,” the blonde one flung back over his shoulder. “We and the others outnumber them. That is if the crowd doesn’t turn on us.”

  Darwyn and his companions sprang from their horses. Darwyn walked through the parted crowd to the porch steps. The two angels did not move to allow him on the steps. Other soldiers, she saw, were moving closer, until there was an armed troop between the porch and Darwyn’s company of men.

  The crowd was falling back, sensing conflict.

  “My cousin Princess Scylla!” Darwyn raised his voice. “I am comforted to see you are still alive.”

  “Darwyn,” she acknowledged him, with a regal nod. Her surroundings spun and it was a moment or two before her vision recovered. He appeared every bit as unpleasant as she remembered.

  “I can assure you of my protection, as you well know.”

  He gave her a half-bow and an accompanying smirk.

  “I,” she spoke with as much air as she could muster, “I do not need... your protection!”

  He stiffened. No one else spoke, or even shuffled.

  “You’re very young. It’s obvious you’re very ill as well.”

  He turned and spoke to the crowd around him, raising his voice. “I have taken direction from the chancellor to take over guardianship of the kingdom after the death of the king! Until a new king can be crowned!”

  “Or queen!” Mako’s voice cracked out like a whip.

  “The princess is young, totally inexperienced. The chancellor has signed over guardianship of the princess... and the kingdom... to me. Wiser heads shall prevail!” From inside his cloak, he pulled a piece of parchment and held it up. His armed men drew in around him.

  The crowd sighed, muttered. Some of the soldiers sounded as if they snarled.

  “What chancellor... what chancellor has signed this order?” Scylla was impressed with how clearly she had enunciated her question.

  Darwyn all but rolled his eyes. “Chancellor Ledger, of course. The king’s trusted chancellor, left in charge of the kingdom while our king... frolicked in the forest with the royal family.”

  “Chancellor Ledger is senile,” Scylla informed him coldly. “My father the king has been too kind. Chancellor Ledger has been relieved of his duties... he is no longer... fit!”

  Her cousin glared at her. Her heart was pounding, her breath coming faster.

  “When was this?” Darwyn demanded. “He has signed this order two days ago! I am in charge!”

  “He was relieved of his duties... three days ago... by the queen of this kingdom! When she... I, that is!... escaped foul betrayal... and death!” She was rapidly running out of reserves. Any minute she could lose control and slither like a slaughtered lamb out of the chair.

  Her cousin Darwyn spat into the dirt. His face was reddening, his body rigid.

  “I... am the queen now. The Kingdom of Rellant has a new chancellor. Any further requests SHALL BE... directed to him!” Good Goddess, I sound like a harpy, she realized: a very breathless one. “Speak... no more!”

  There was an odd sound, the sliding of steel on steel... the sound of multiple weapons being drawn. The crowd was splitting – some were withdrawing rapidly to safety, while many of the men had produced their own weapons. How interesting it would be now to find out who was with Darwyn, and how many would fight for the new queen.

  Within seconds, many weapons were drawn, some gleaming, some dull, some rusty... knives, swords – both small and large – and even a couple of hammers.

  Scylla drew in a deep breath. It was beyond her to stand up, but she leaned forward to speak, to focus despite her swirling vision. “People! Soldiers! All of you! I present the kingdom’s new chancellor... Mako!”

  Beside her, she heard him grunt as if she had hit him. The angels along with their companions quivered suddenly, electrically, joyfully ready for battle.

  Whether he had expected her announcement or not, Mako was not one to hang back. He took a step forward and spoke strongly into the stunned silence.

  “Thank you, my queen! Whether crowned or to be crowned, I serve you as I served your father, for the betterment of this kingdom.”

  “Illegal! Illegal!” Darwyn had found his voice. “I am the guardian of the kingdom!” he shrieked. “Men! Ready yourselves!” A wiser man would have remained calm.

  Had he not noticed that every person present with a weapon was already readied?

  The princess’s teeth were beginning to chatter. She was getting cold again. She hoped she would not faint now when these seconds ticked away towards...what?

  “Prince Darwyn! We know that under your direction the royal family was attacked and murdered. For your own foul ambition!”

  “What? What?” muttered the crowd. Heads were turning, eyes moving from Mako to Darwyn and back.

  “No!” shouted Darwyn indignantly. “The old caretaker, trusted by the king, went insane and hacked the royal family to death! One of my men fought off the murderer – who then took his own life!”

  “We have eyewitnesses who say it was your men, Prince Darwyn, who did the killing!”

  “They lie! They lie!”

  “Look at the ring on Darwyn’s finger!” thundered Mako over the princess’ muzzy head. “Is that not the ring that our king wore night and day? The Seal of the Kingdom?” There was a roar of outrage from the crowd. Darwyn’s hand twisted against his leather tunic, in an involuntary attempt to hide the ring on his finger.

  “The traitors stand before us all! Hold on! Men, hold on!” This was directed at those who were starting to move in towards Darwyn and his troop.

  “Who is with the queen? Who despises the betrayal... the murder of the royal family?”

  A roar went up. Darwyn and his men were seriously outnumbered, even though they were a well-armed, capable-looking troop. They drew in together, faces grim, eyes darting around.

  “Wait! Do not attack these men here!”

  “Shut up, Princess,” Mako muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

  “ ‘Queen’,” she corrected him out of the corner of hers. She found her voice again.

  “Darwyn! You and your men may leave now. You have... you have as long as it takes to get on your horses!”

  “
You heard the queen!” Mako’s voice thundered out, ten times louder than hers. “Men! Queen’s troops! Let Prince Darwyn and his men get on their horses.”

  Someone yelled, “Don’t let them get away!” Another roar went up, but the queen’s people held while Darwyn’s troops began to move quickly to their horses.

  “Why – exactly – are we letting them get away?” asked Mako, finding some grim humor in the situation. His soldiers were quivering with excitement like tethered hounds, practically jumping in place.

  “Too many people could get hurt,” Scylla told him faintly. “I don’t want to watch a slaughter today.”

  “Princess! Princess!” That was the blonde one, still guarding the porch steps a few feet away from her. “They’re getting on their horses!” He too seemed to be enjoying the suspense.

  “I throw them to the angels!” she said grandly, leaning towards him. “Now! Go, go!”

  Pandemonium broke loose. Darwyn and his men were on their horses and wheeling away for a fast exit. The crowd and Mako’s soldiers, with permission to pursue, leaped into action. The blonde and dark angels were racing for their horses along with the rest of Mako’s soldiers, and anyone else in the crowd who had steeds at the ready.

  “Chancellor Mako,” she said firmly, as he took a step forward. “I’m about to die again. Please f-f-f-find a maid to help me... before you go.”

  “Bring me their heads!” roared Mako after his men. “Bring back the king’s seal!” The princess cringed. She was again aware of being cold, hungry and aching all over. The bump on her head panged and her ankle throbbed.

  “A very nasty man,” she mumbled. She shivered in the wool blanket, closing her eyes.

  “I hope he’s about to come to a nasty end,” said Mako’s voice, grimly. He whisked her into his arms as if she weighed nothing. Bart, the only man remaining on the porch, dragged the chair back inside. “Bart! Go out and round up a house guard from those who are on foot. Name them the Acting Queen’s Guard! They guard this house!”

  “Yes, sir!” was the reply. “Ahhh... yes, Chancellor!”

  “I need to sleep,” Scylla mumbled as her head lolled back. “Please don’t put me back in that chair. I cannot sit up any longer.”

  “Permission given to sleep,” Mako said tersely as he placed her next to the fire, where the flames still leaped frantically. “By the Goddess, it’s hot in here.”

  “Blessed heat,” she mumbled. “Give me more blankets. Get me that woman you promised. I’m sure you have a lot to do, Chancellor.”

  “Good work, Princess,” was his response. “You were very queenly, I knew you could do it.”

  “...Liar!”

  He shook his head. “I bow to you, Princess.”

  “Good luck, Chancellor,” she said faintly. On the edge of her vision, as her eyes began to close, she thought she saw a small, sticklike creature crouching near the fireplace, behind an untidy stack of firewood. “... Keet...?” she mumbled as she drifted over the edge into dreamland.

  ***

  The next thing she knew it was midday, by evidence of the sun pouring in through the small, filthy window. Mako was shaking her awake. He hauled her up, blankets and all, and put her on the chair. She began to slide out.

  “Sit up, Princess. Drink this... ah... swallow this. Can you swallow?” Apparently he was recalling the previous time when she had almost choked.

  “Give me a minute,” she croaked, her bleary eyes spotting the cup at the ready. “I was just sleeping.” She cleared her throat and shook her head, which still throbbed.

  He paused, not with any great patience or compassion. She turned her head the little she could, from side to side. “Is there no woman around?”

  His expression did not improve. “There are, but I don’t trust them completely.”

  “Well, find my handmaid. She saved my life. Surely that indicates trustworthiness.”

  “I have sent some men to find her... she was alive. But there’s been no news.”

  “What happened to Darwyn?”

  “I’m waiting to hear.”

  “Did the soldiers not come back?”

  “Not yet.”

  “How long have I been asleep?”

  “About two hours. You had some broth an hour ago.”

  “Have you nothing more important to do than pour all this liquid down my throat?” she said nastily. In truth, she wondered how he could bear to stay in the hellish room and wait for news.

  “I have nothing better to do than hold the Kingdom of Rellant together. Keeping you alive and strong enough to travel back to the castle is my priority,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “I will do my queenly duty and swallow,” she said, pushing her hand out from the blankets wrapped around her to take the cup. It was strong tea with honey stirred into it and she drank most of it. “Can I go back to sleep now?”

  “I’ll wake you up in an hour for more broth. Last time you didn’t really wake up. You seem more lucid now. How are you feeling?”

  “Terrible,” she responded, handing the cup back. Her arm was stiff but seemed to be working. “I’m warm but now I hurt all over.”

  “Can you stand up?”

  She considered the possibility. “Not likely.”

  “Well, give it a try, Princess.” He put the cup down, took her by the shoulders and lifted.

  She stood up but she soon collapsed back into the chair. Her swollen ankle was too painful to stand on.

  “That was promising,” he said encouragingly. She found it irritating.

  “How novel to have anyone purport to care about me,” she snapped.

  “Sarcasm... Is that how you get everyone to leave you alone?”

  They locked glances.

  “I’ve seen how the Princess Scylla gets by...” he said. “The king took me in as a page before you were born. You’re a tough nut with a hard shell. I remember when your mother Queen Clerryn died in childbirth. Nobody had any time for you.”

  “I was three.”

  He nodded. “About that. They were all trying to save the baby prince, but he only lasted a few weeks. You weren’t a friendly little thing either. You ran wild and threw tantrums.”

  “It wasn’t even a year before he wed his new queen. She didn’t like me.”

  “Well, you don’t do much to get along, do you? But you don’t take much shit either... My apologies, Princess.”

  He didn’t sound very sorry. “How perceptive you are,” she said mockingly. “Did my father know how perceptive you are?”

  He eyed her. “I began as an orphan page he took in, and rose to command his personal Guard,” he pointed out. His gaze became bleak. “Through trickery, I and the King’s Guard were decoyed away and failed him in his hour of need. I will not fail him... or the kingdom... again.”

  He went to the door and looked out. Then he returned. “Now, in the absence of your handmaid, I’m going to put you on the chamber pot, to... ah... ‘water the flowers like a rabbit’. In Renold’s words.”

  “Who?”

  “Your dark angel.”

  “Oh, him.” She was remembering Renold and his activities around the castle in recent years and, no, he was no angel. Coltic, the blonde one, wasn’t either. If anything, he was wilder.

  The embarrassing moment passed with little ado. She found enough strength to sit up.

  Then he was wrapping the blankets around her once more and put her back on the makeshift bed. It was a straw mattress that could have used some re-stuffing: lumpy but better than the floor, she supposed. The fire was flickering away, the room warm.

  “Accept my appreciation.”

  He gave her a nod. “I’ll wake you up again when it’s time for some broth.”

  “I can’t wait,” she said nastily, closing her eyes. “Go away.”

  “That,” she heard him say.

  “What?” She opened her eyes reluctantly. He was pointing a finger at her.

  “That mean streak. That’s how Princess Scy
lla protects herself.”

  “Master Perception,” she mocked. “You get a prize for that. If I had land to give away, I’d award you with a... a nice rocky ridge somewhere. Remind me when I’m queen.”

  Silence. As she began to drift off, she heard him mutter. “It’s a good thing you’re ill.” But when she focused on him, she thought he winked at her.

  It seemed she had barely gone back to sleep when he was shaking her awake again.

  “No, no, no!” she moaned.

  “Broth this time. Sit up.”

  She sat up, but refused to open her eyes, drank the broth and lay back down, rolling onto her side. Back into blessed sleep.

  But soon she was disturbed once more, this time by a rap on the door. She opened her eyes to see Coltic, the blonde soldier, enter. He was grim and unsmiling. He pulled a bloody wrapped object out of his clothing and handed it to Mako. His eyes slid to hers.

  “For the princess,” he said. “The king’s ring, the seal. You’ll have to wash it. Boil it or something. We had to chop it off Darwyn’s hand.”

  “And...?”

  “He and four of his men are dead. They holed up in a cave and we had to smoke them out. That’s what took so long. They came out fighting. We have one dead and three injured. Renold sent some troops to hunt down the others. We know who they are.”

  “Ah.”

  “Reinforcements are coming from the castle, bringing the queen’s physician and some women to take care of the princess. Arrival before dark, hopefully.”

  “Excellent,” said Mako.

  “How is she?”

  “Improving.”

  The princess wiggled a hand out from under the blankets and pulled the scratchy wool over her head.

  She needn’t have bothered. The blankets were pulled back. Mako, of course.

  “No turtling,” he told her. “You need to breathe.”

  “Did she just growl?” asked Coltic, peering down at her.

  “She’s not in a good mood.”

  “Suicidal?”

  “Don’t tempt me,” Scylla mumbled. She put her hand over her ear to block them out.

  “Don’t give her any ideas,” Mako said quietly, but she heard him. She made her breathing slow and regular as if she had gone back to sleep. One thing she had learned long ago was that people talked more freely if they thought you weren’t listening.