A Princess of Sorts

by Wilma van Wyngaarden

  “As you wish,” Minda agreed. “Sorrell is sleeping and the girl will take over Prince Leon from the captain.”

  Coltic gave a sheepish grin. “Thank you! I will leave a full guard on duty, including three men on the roof garden. I need to stretch my legs and want to consult with Mako and Renold. They have not yet informed me of what has been discovered from the priests.”

  Scylla shuddered and waved him off. “Do not let Mako come back here to ruin my night – if at all possible! Tomorrow is perfectly fine for the latest news... for any news.”

  He left. Minda called for the late queen’s women to come and assist Scylla to retire.

  Finally, at long last, she was in her own bed in the windowless alcove off the main room. The day was drawing to a close, although the noise still emanating from the Great Hall, the courtyard, and outside the castle showed no signs of winding down. One could draw the conclusion that the revelers were nowhere near ready to end their celebrations.

  “It all may go on long into the night,” Minda warned her. “I can pull the curtains across, but it may do no more than muffle the worst of it.”

  “I feel it is better than silence,” Scylla said in exhaustion. “Let us call it the best of what might have come to fruition!”

  Minda gave her a glance of silent agreement and left her alone at last.

  Scylla pulled the covers up to her chin – apparently, the bed had been made up with fresh bedding as it smelled much better – and closed her eyes.

  She was asleep almost instantly. Hours passed in dreamless sleep.

  ... But somewhere past the middle of the night... she became aware of a small sound. Her eyes were still closed, clamped shut in deep, deep sleep.

  Where was she? Asleep in the castle, her drowsy mind supplied. Outside the castle was silence – the last revelers had gone to sleep. Inside the queen’s chambers, there were only sounds of breathing – probably Sorrell, Minda, Leon and the girl looking after him. There was a gentle, rhythmic snore from one of them.

  But what was making noise in her alcove?

  Scylla forced her eyes open and saw only darkness. She held her breath and listened.

  There was a small, chittering sound. It stopped and was repeated, and then again.

  She became convinced it was a sound of suffering. Someone in the room was quietly moaning to himself... or herself. Or itself. What a very odd little sound.

  Scylla yawned. She raised her head, listening.

  Silence.

  “Who’s that?” she whispered as quietly as possible.

  There was no answer. After a minute or so she laid her head back on the pillows and closed her eyes.

  “Ehhhhnnnnn...! Ehhhhnnnnn...! Ehhhhnnnnn...!” It was from the furthest corner of the room.

  It was a tiny voice, almost familiar. “Keet!” she whispered. “Is that you?”

  “Eeeeee...” came the pathetic response. “It is I, Keet – I am dying!”

  She sat up, but her sleepy gaze could not pierce the darkness. “Where are you?”

  “It does not matter. Cursed be the day I came to this horrid place! No one gave me warning I would die here.” She could barely hear the faint voice.

  “You saved my life again at the coronation,” she whispered back. “The others heard your voice. How is that possible?”

  “What do you mean, possible?”

  “Well, you come to me in my dreams... don’t you? My waking dreams!”

  “Stupid giant!” the voice snarled. “You cannot see past your dogs, your sheep, your cats, rabbits, and birds. There are other beings in the world, but you are not even aware of it!”

  Scylla puzzled that out. “Do you mean you’re real?” she ventured.

  “Ehhheeeeeehhhh!” came the subdued wail. “If I were a figment of your dreams, could I die?”

  Scylla contemplated the question. “I have no idea. There is death in dreams, is there not... at times?”

  There was a movement at the curtain to the alcove.

  “It is I, Minda,” came a low whisper. “Are you calling me?”

  “Not exactly,” said Scylla as quietly.

  There was a low snarl from Keet’s corner, the barest sound. She knew what he meant. Do not expose me, stupid giant!

  “Do you need anything?”

  “I am not sure.”

  There came a moan from Keet’s corner. It was a pathetic sound.

  “Did you hear that, Minda?

  “I did hear it.”

  “There’s apparently a creature in the room. It says it is dying.”

  “I see,” said Minda. She didn’t seem distressed.

  “Well, then. That is the voice that both Mako and Sorrell heard. And I too, of course. I am not sure what sort of a creature it is.”

  Keet moaned again. “I’m dying...”

  “I will get a light.” A moment later she returned with a candlestick. The small flame flickered, casting a meager light around the room. Minda moved carefully towards the corner of the small room.

  There was a snarl.

  Minda said, “Oh my!”

  “Do you see it?” asked Scylla.

  “It looks very unwell.”

  “What is it?”

  “Hmmmm!” Minda said thoughtfully. “You know, I have never seen one of these, but some of the village people talk of them... more like a mythical being... from the past, I thought.”

  “Oh! Well, I thought it was a vision, from my waking dreams... when I was lost in the forest, you know. He appeared to me and told me to get up, and where to go.”

  “I am Keet,” came the doleful moan from the corner. “Do not touch me, old woman! I am dying.”

  “Perhaps we can help you. Am I to understand you saved Queen Scylla’s life in the forest... and today again?”

  “Several times!” sneered the shrill little voice. “However, while decoying the dogs from her trail, I was attacked by a hawk and fell from a tree. I, who have never fallen!”

  “May I see?” The light lit the corner as Minda moved closer. There was silence for a moment. “I believe your arm can not be mended. You can see the bone has snapped in two and the... muscle or flesh... is torn through and hanging by a few strands. Your hand and forearm will not recover.”

  “I smell like death!”

  “It must come off.”

  “Noooooo!” shrieked Keet. “I have a fever and I am dying!”

  “May I have permission to pick up the basket you’re in?”

  “Noooooo!”

  “I will be careful.”

  “Do not drop me!”

  Minda set down the candlestick on the end of Scylla’s bed. “Be careful you don’t knock over that candle,” she warned.

  She went back to the far corner, bent down, and a moment later placed a basket on Scylla’s bed. She picked up the candle again to allow Scylla to peer into the basket.

  Keet was huddled into a nest of... was it stockings? His stick-like limbs folded up tightly next to his furry body, except for the broken arm, which was twisted stiffly and beginning to stink of rot.

  “Oh, Keet! Why didn’t you ask me to help you?”

  “Humans do not help creatures such as I – they are far more likely to put us in cages or chop us to death.”

  No one could argue that.

  “Besides, I was in no state to help anyone,” Scylla said, more to herself.

  “You are one of the more useless giants I have met. The sword to the eye was inspired, though! I could not have suggested anything better.”

  She shuddered at the memory. But as someone had pointed out... was it Coltic?... if she had not struck first, she would have been dead on the road with her head split from her shoulders.

  “What can you do, Minda?”

  “Well, not I,” she admitted. “I am not a healer. I do know of one, but how long will it take her to arrive?... Possibly in the morning, if I send a messenger now.”

  “Do not bother! I shall be dead by morning...” wailed Keet.
/>
  “What do you eat?” Scylla asked cautiously. “You must be hungry.”

  “Seeds, berries, mice...”

  “Could he eat some soup?”

  “I have no idea,” said Minda. “Really. I don’t. We cannot cause him more stress, not as an invalid. I doubt that a forest creature would benefit from soup.”

  “Nettles,” Keet moaned. “Are there any nettles nearby? The tops are more palatable. I would eat nettle tops. Or a mouse.”

  “At first light, I will send someone to pick some nettle tops. It will be only an hour or so. And I shall send for the healer... I wonder if she has encountered a... what type of creature are you?”

  “I am of a tribe of tree dwellers – only in old forests, though. We are adept at travel through the branches. Now, however, with only one arm, it would be much more difficult. I believe it is better just to die,” he added dolefully.

  “Nonsense. You still have your other limbs. I’m sure you will be able to adapt.”

  He chittered sadly to himself.

  “I will also ask the kitchen to send up an assortment of fruits and berries, that type of thing. You may find something you care to eat.”

  “Unfortunately we cannot ask them to send up a mouse. Although I am sure there are mice in the kitchens!” Scylla said.

  “I’m sure there are,” said Minda briskly. “However, as you say...! Let me see what I can put into motion. I will put your basket back into the corner, Keet. For your safety, for now.”

  He chittered in distress until the basket was set down but then was quiet.

  What a fragile sort of creature, Scylla thought. For someone... something that traveled along tree branches, he was surprisingly frightened of falling.

  Minda left. Sometime later she came quietly back with a dish from the kitchens. “They’ve sent up a few things he might eat, although I am sure they think it an odd request. I said it was tidbits for Prince Leon, who may well like some too. I will send the girl down for nettle leaves when she wakes – she will know what they are and where they are likely to be found.”

  She set the candle on a small table near Keet’s basket and gave him some of the fruits and berries. From the sounds that ensued – chittering, crunching, and smacking – he found some of it to his liking.

  “I am wondering,” Minda said very quietly to Scylla. “How is it that he came to rescue you? How did he know you were in such danger?”

  “I have been puzzling over the same questions. He had been sent by someone.” She remembered that Keet had had a sort of checklist he had used to identify her in the forest. A shiver ran down her spine. “The past week’s happenings have been fearsome! I ask you, Minda... can you make sense of these things?”

  Minda was shaking her head slowly. “I feel... perhaps the onset of your reign, Queen Scylla, may expose a different facet of our world than has yet been seen by any one of us. It is... very interesting!”

  “Interesting?” Scylla looked at her indignantly. “I much prefer that things stay as they are... or as they used to be!”

  Minda’s shoulders rose in a shrug, and an odd expression crossed her face. “We do not have a choice. King Tobin will not rise from his grave. The priests cannot erase their murderous intent. Our innocence has been torn into shreds. We can but try to be resilient!”

  Scylla had little interest in being resilient. She hoped that Chancellor Mako would be able to make sense of it all, and quickly take charge. She said as much.

  “I used to hate my life here. If it had not been for Sorrell, I would have shriveled up from misery, or perhaps even thrown myself from the castle wall. And yet, all is now changed... I do not know if this is any better.”

  Minda gave her a cynical glance. “Queen Scylla. Some of us may slip up and still call you princess, but the princess is no more. Recall the constraints and humiliations of her... your life. In the past six days, you have shed your past and may just as well start to live fully in the present!”

  “Hmmmph! Well said, Minda, but the present seems very odd!”

  “It does. I wonder how Chancellor Mako will react when he sees the creature in the basket...”

  “I cannot wait to see!”

  ***

  They did not have a long wait. Dawn broke and the light of the new day began to reach in through the windows. Sounds within and without the castle indicated activity... although it proved to be a slower start than most days.

  Scylla was up, washed, dressed and had the raven’s wing of hair hanging free. She combed her fingers through the smooth black strands, admiring the glossy look now that the ends had been trimmed.

  She was nibbling at a hard-boiled egg when a knock sounded at the door.

  “Captain Coltic and Chancellor Mako!” announced a voice from the corridor.

  “Come in,” called Scylla. “How have you survived the night of celebration?”

  “Quite well.” Mako cast a gaze around the room, taking in every detail as usual. Coltic’s glance was on Sorrell, who stood by the window sipping at a mug of tea. She looked fragile but had demanded to be helped off the bed to walk around for a while. She had sampled some of the food that was laid out on the dining table. There were eggs, biscuits, fruit, cheeses and cold meats sliced into thin strips, which was plenty; but there was also a selection of cakes, pies, and other sweets. On the stove in the corner, a kettle was boiling.

  “Have you eaten?” asked Minda. “There is far too much food here. I must remind the kitchen staff that there are several fewer inhabitants now in the queen’s quarters.”

  “Queen Maris and her ladies enjoyed their feasts,” said Sorrell. “We will not need to waste such large amounts of food.”

  “Nor all these sweets,” Scylla gestured. “Who could eat all that? We would be as fat as pigs.”

  “Well, we had an early breakfast, but why stop now?” Coltic sliced off a piece of cake. “Where is the twig?”

  “The what?” asked Minda.

  “Prince Leon,” Coltic clarified. “Oh, I see him out on the roof garden, already running in circles.”

  “I am watching him,” said Sorrell. “One of the soldiers is entertaining him.”

  “The girl has gone out on an errand. She should be back soon.”

  “I hear you have sent for a healer. Not the physician?” asked Mako.

  “No, a healer from the religious house with a medical calling. It is not for any of us.” Minda hesitated. “We have... we have an occurrence. Not a usual one.”

  “Do you remember hearing the shrill voice about the priest?” Scylla asked.

  “I heard a shrill voice saying Danger! – nothing about the priest.”

  “Well, the owner of the voice has turned up.”

  “Turned up where?” Both Coltic and Mako turned to stare at her. So did Sorrell.

  “Here. He is injured and so Minda has sent for the healer.”

  “Please give us the details, Princess,” said Mako. “Oh, my apologies. Queen Scylla.”

  “The details are a little odd, Chancellor. Suffice it to say that a... character... a creature, that is... has saved my life several times. His name is Keet. I am not sure how to describe him to you. Except as the voice that both you and Sorrell – and I – heard, warning us of danger.”

  “We are all very grateful for the warning,” said Mako, heavily. “I only wish...”

  “Never mind, Chancellor! Keet helped me to escape from the forest. He also warned me of the attack on the road. Here is the problem.” She hesitated. “I thought he was a figment of my imagination. I was unwell and could not tell what was real or a dream.”

  “I do recall.”

  “So. This is a type of creature I have never even heard of, much less seen. We will show him to you, but he is very fragile. Please don’t hurt him.”

  Mako’s eyebrows went up. Coltic looked insulted.

  “Well, he is afraid of humans. He calls us giants.”

  “Good Goddess, Princess!” exclaimed Mako.

 
“I have heard of these creatures from some of the villagers,” Minda said. “However, I believed it was only folklore. I will bring him out.”

  She went into Scylla’s sleeping alcove and returned a moment later with the basket. Keet chittered in terror, shrinking back into his nest.

  Both Mako and Coltic stared in blank astonishment.

  Sorrell hobbled closer and inspected the basket and its contents.

  “I know what that is. It is one of the tree dwellers, a forest creature. I do not think it is from our forests, though.”

  Keet stared up at her. “You are she who knocked the vial from the priest’s hand!” His shrill voice made Mako recoil. “I commend you, protector of the princess! She herself is all but useless!”

  “I heard you scream about the vial. I didn’t know where the scream came from.”

  “He was in the chair with me,” said Scylla. “Hidden in the folds of that dress of my mother’s. But as you see, his arm is broken... ruined. He was unable to show himself.”

  “You are quite right, he could not have shown himself.” Mako was eyeing the stick-like creature with his pointed face and sharp eyes. “This is... is that... real?” he asked cautiously.

  “Are you stupid?” snarled Keet. “You are not dreaming, are you?”

  Coltic suppressed a grin. “Sorrell, have you seen one of these before?”

  “No, but in my village, there are stories of them. No one claims to have actually seen one.”

  “We live only in the deep forest. You giants have grown foolish and do not like to think about creatures other than themselves.”

  “I’ve sent for a healer from my village. As you see, Keet’s arm is injured and can not be mended.” Minda hesitated.

  “He took one of my stockings and used it to confuse the hunters’ dogs. He said a hawk attacked him and thus his arm was injured... So, Chancellor,” Scylla continued. “What do you make of this?”

  Mako did not immediately respond.

  The door opened and the girl came back. She hung back when she saw Mako and Coltic.