by John Moore
He approached the altar again, this time without incident. On the altar lay a crudely shaped wooden bowl. Very old, very worn, very shallow. He picked it up in disbelief. “This is it? A piece of wood?”
In the darkness he heard a rumbling sound and a sudden inrush of water.
Wendell put the bowl in his pocket and ran for the exit.
“HEY, LOOK, LET’S HAVE NONE OF THAT,” said Charming uncomfortably. He hated to see a woman cry. Of course, he hated to see a man cry, but it wasn’t the same thing. If for some reason a man started crying, you just patted him on the shoulder, bought him a beer or two, and made sure to avoid him in the future. If a woman cried, though, you were supposed to give her aid and comfort, which was very difficult if you were the reason she was crying in the first place.
“Come on, it’s not as bad as all that.” He patted his pockets for a handkerchief to offer her but came up empty. Cynthia continued to sob. “You’re going to ruin your make-up.” The sobs came louder. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? If I did, I’m sorry.” He stepped closer and tried to take her hands. Instead, Cynthia threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, letting hot tears wet his skin.
“You don’t understand,” she sobbed. “All my life I’ve been scorned and abused. My stepmother and my stepsister hate me. Before Esmerelda I was nothing. And now that we’ve finally got the chance to be someone, you’re taking it away from us.” She squirmed against him and let her hand drop casually to his pocket.
“Take it easy,” said the Prince, patting her back in a not quite avuncular fashion. “It’s not like we’re going to destroy this grail. It’ll still be around. If you two want to work some magic, I’m sure we can work something out.”
“But Esmerelda…”
“Forget Esmerelda. She’s bad news for you. Look, I know plenty of magicians who can spell rings around Esmerelda. They’ve got their own sources of power too. If you want an apprenticeship, I’ll give you an introduction to a couple of them. And if you still need a grail, you can use this one on loan.”
“No, you won’t,” sniffed Cynthia. “Your little princess friend wants the grail for herself to restore her kingdom. You’ll give it to her and, once she has it, she’ll never let it get away.”
“Don’t be silly. Ann doesn’t tell me what to do and I have not the slightest intention of turning over the grail…” He stopped in mid-sentence and Cynthia felt him get very still. Her fingers slipped into his pocket and found the key.
“Ann,” said Charming slowly. “She must have followed her here. That was her horse outside the thorn hedge.” He grabbed Cynthia by the shoulders, roughly, and stared into her face. “She’s here. Where is she?”
Cynthia kneed him in the groin.
Charming saw stars. When they cleared, Cynthia was standing at the far end of the room, laughing wildly. She held up the key for him to see.
“Ann,” he croaked. “Where is she?”
“With Esmerelda. She’s dead meat now, Charming. With the blood of a princess, Esmerelda will have all the power she needs.” She sneered. “With or without the grail.”
Charming lunged at her. She popped the key in her mouth and swallowed it.
“Damn you!”
“Wish your girlfriend Godspeed, Charming.”
Charming gave the door a calculated look. He put his shoulder down and ran into it full tilt, putting every ounce of force he could muster into the blow. The door did not budge. Cynthia was laughing again. “That door is four inches thick, my Prince, and the walls are solid rock. We’re in here until Esmerelda lets us out.”
Charming didn’t reply. He rubbed his shoulder and limped over to the bed.
“I’m glad it worked out this way, Charming. I wasn’t sure I could keep up that wanton woman act for much longer.”
Tossing aside the sheets, he found his sword in its scabbard. Slowly, he turned and held it up for her to see.
She stopped laughing. Her eyes got very big. “You wouldn’t dare,” she whispered.
Charming looked at her sadly. “I really hate to do this,” he said and pulled the sword from its scabbard.
ESMERELDA HAD CUT OFF all of Ann’s clothes with a large pair of scissors and was drawing cabalistic symbols over her body with a piece of green chalk. Occasionally she would mark a small x over an artery with a piece of red chalk. Apparently, this meant a spot where cutting was to be done, for after chalking each limb she placed a large bucket at the end of the table. The whole experience was the most humiliating, disgusting, and altogether frightening thing that ever happened to Ann and the fact that Esmerelda was humming off key while she worked didn’t help one whit.
“The table has blood grooves carved into it,” she explained. “The blood will run down the grooves the length of the table and collect in this bucket.”
“Isn’t technology wonderful? What will they think of next?”
“Ah, a bit of sarcasm there. Good, good. I admire a girl with spunk. One who’s willing to spit in the face of death.”
Ann looked interested. Esmerelda quickly put her hand over the girl’s mouth. “That’s not an invitation to spit, lass. If you do, I shall simply have to gag you these last few minutes until the cutting starts.”
Ann nodded and Esmerelda took her hand away. The girl said, “You’re going to need another bucket to hold your own blood after Charming cuts your head off.”
“Prince Charming,” said Esmerelda, “is humping his little brain out right now and does not want to be disturbed.”
“He’ll find out eventually and then he’ll avenge me. You’d better let me go.”
“I think not. I know what strings to pull to manipulate Charming. After tonight I will be the most powerful sorceress in the twenty kingdoms.”
“Haven’t you ever thought of using your skill to benefit people instead of hurting them?”
“No. I never have.” Esmerelda picked up the silver knife again. “Take a deep breath, dear.”
Ann clamped her mouth shut and held her breath. Her eyes were tightly closed. She waited for the first touch of the knife, determined not to scream. She waited for the chilling touch of the cold metal, the pressure of the tip against her skin, the agonizing feel of the blade slicing through her flesh. She waited for… good Lord, what was taking this idiot so long anyway? She opened her eyes. Prince Charming was smiling down at her, grinning like a little schoolboy. He held up his sword.
“Hey, Ann. Did I tell you I finally figured out what this little twisty thing in the handle is? It’s a lock pick.”
“I,” SAID ANN, “am very happy to see you.”
“I should think you would be.” Charming turned Esmerelda’s body over with his foot. The woman’s face still wore an expression of surprise, the sudden shock of feeling Charming’s sword pierce her heart from behind. “Never knew what hit her,” the prince murmured. “What a slime ball. Why does a woman with mystical gifts dedicate herself to a life of evil? What does she get out of it?”
“She mentioned something about low-interest loans.”
“Mmmmmmm. Not good enough. Fairies are strange. Ann, what are you doing here anyway? I thought you were back at the castle, celebrating with the happy couple.”
“Say, um, you don’t happen to see a blanket around here, do you? I’m getting kind of chilled like this.”
The Prince looked around. “No. Here, I’ll get Esmerelda’s cloak off.”
“Don’t you dare!”
“Oh, all right.” Charming took off his shirt and draped it over her, then started going through the dead woman’s pockets. “You didn’t happen to see where she put the key to those things?”
“No. Can’t you get them with your lock-pick?”
“I’m not so good with manacles. Door locks are the main obstacle in the slay-and-rescue business.” The Prince made a quick search of the shelves in the room. “Tell you what. I’ll get some tools from Wendell and we’ll pound those things off. I’ll only be gone a minute.” He went t
o the door and paused with his hand on it. “Don’t go away.”
Ann raised her head and looked at the chains. “Right.”
“Just kidding.” He turned the door handle. “What’s this?” A two-foot-high surge of water forced the door open and poured into the room.
“Water?” said Ann. “Something must have happened to the grail.”
“Wendell snatched it.” Charming pulled Endeavor from its sheath and unfolded the lock-pick. He applied it to the cuff on Ann’s left wrist, his mouth set in a grim line. “At least we know Wendell got out okay.”
“Uh huh. Can you get these things off?”
“Hmmm? Oh, sure. Not to worry. Have them off in a jiffy. No problem. Relax. Nothing to it.” The pick made a scraping sound beneath his fingers. “Damn.”
The water was coming up awfully fast. It swirled up past Charming’s knees and poured in the tops of his boots. It soaked through his trousers and was past his hips by the time he got the first cuff off. The second cuff went a little faster, because he already knew what to do but, still, the water had topped the table by several inches and Ann had to prop herself on one arm while he worked on it. He helped her to her feet, and she stood on the table, letting the water cover her toes while Charming worked on her ankles. The water was too muddy to see into and he worked by feel, with his hands underwater, while the water came up past his chest, then his neck.
“Charming,” said Ann. Her voice quavered. “I don’t think we’re going to make it. You’d better leave me.”
“Almost done. Really.” The Prince took a deep breath and ducked his head underwater. Seconds later, Ann felt the first ankle cuff pull away. Charming surfaced and shook the water out of his hair. “There, see. I’ll have that last one off in plenty of time.”
He ducked back under the water. Ann could feel his hands working around her ankle. She waited, watching the water level rise against the stone wall. Charming came up again, gasping for air. She said, “You have to leave me. In a minute the water will put out the torches and then you won’t be able to see your way out.”
“I have it, I have it,” Charming promised. He took a deep breath and sank down again.
Ann was breathing in short, hysterical gasps. The torches went out quickly, snuffed by the icy water, leaving her in oily blackness. The water topped her shoulders and she stood on her toes, keeping her head as high as possible. She wondered briefly if drowning was really as bad as everyone said it was and she was suddenly glad that Charming had stayed with her. She hadn’t wanted him to die with her, but she didn’t want to die alone, either. The Prince surfaced beside her, choking and coughing in the darkness.
“Prince Charming,” she shouted above the rush of water. “I have something to tell you. Something very important. I should have told you sooner. I don’t know why I didn’t but I have to tell you now.”
“Oh, for God’s sake! You’re not going to tell me you love me, are you?”
“Yes, damn it! That’s just what I was going to say!”
“Well, save it!” There was a splash and then he disappeared again. Ann tried to say something, but water poured in her mouth and she coughed it out. It rose past her face and she tried to tread water, splashing with her hands and kicking her free leg. She felt Charming grab her free ankle and rest it on his shoulder. Her other leg was stretched to the limit of its chain. When her face rose out of the water once again, she took one last deep breath before the water covered her once more. Suddenly her ankle came free and she rose to the surface with Charming.
“Okay,” said Charming. He was struggling to get his boots off. “Deep breath, now. We’ll have to swim for it.”
They were in the rapidly disappearing air space between the top of the water and the ceiling. “Swim where?” said Ann. It was pitch black.
She felt Charming grab her hand. “Just hold on. I remember the way.”
And he did. How he found his way she never figured out. He pulled her along through the black water, several times banging her against the stone, but always finding an air space just when she thought her lungs would burst, until finally they surfaced again in the stairwell, the same one she had climbed down hours before. Overhead, stars were shining. They clung together in the muddy water, getting their strength back, then crawled up the remaining steps. There was a cheerful fire blazing in the clearing and Wendell sat beside it, cleaning his sword. He shook his head when he saw them. “For a guy who is always complaining about his love life, Sire, you sure have a lot of women stashed around the place.” He pulled a blanket out of a kit bag and brought it over to Ann. “Hello, Ann.”
“Hello, Wendell. Thank you.”
“Cynthia came out of that cavern, too. I gave her the other blanket, so you’ll have to stay wet, Sire. She didn’t have any clothes on, either.”
“That girl is a fox,” said Charming. “I really hated to give her up.”
“I guess we know his type now,” Ann told Wendell. “Obviously he goes for redheads. What happened to her?”
“She went off with Bear. Bear was guarding the entrance while I went inside.”
“Wendell,” said Charming. “Did you get the grail?”
“Sure did.”
“Good work. Any trouble?”
“An arm with a sword. It was no big deal.”
“It will be by the time the minstrels get through rewriting the tale. Is that it?”
“Uh huh.”
“A piece of wood?”
Ann examined it. “Olive wood. This is a fertility grail, all right.”
Charming sat down on a rock. “We should have grabbed the magic mirror. At least that had some resale value.”
“This has what we want,” said Ann. “Wendell, are the horses still tied up outside the thorn hedge?”
“Yours are. I led mine through to carry the gear.”
“All right. Take the grail and leave us alone for a while. We’ll meet you back at the inn by daybreak.”
“Have fun,” said Wendell. He tucked the grail back in his tunic, buckled on his sword and left, picking his way carefully between the stones in the darkness. Ann waited till he was out of sight, then walked over to Charming and sat in his lap.
“Well,” said Charming, “How about explaining what you were doing mmmmmmphh…”
Ann kissed him. The kiss was long and warm and deep. Once Charming got over his initial surprise, he enjoyed it thoroughly. When she finally came up for air he said, panting a little, “I thought you were supposed to be sweet, pure, chaste, and innocent.”
“Oh that. It’s okay,” said Ann, kissing him again. “We’re going to be married. I’ll tell you about it in the morning.”
IT WAS A WARM, SUNNY MORNING five days later. They were back at the Castle Illyria, sitting on one of its many terraces. “That’s all?” said Charming. “It was okay? Just ‘okay’?”
Ann had Charming’s shirt unbuttoned and was biting his chest. She looked up. “It was fine. I liked it. The kissing is really the best part. I really don’t see why we can’t have more kissing and do away with the rest of it.”
“Well, we can’t. Skip the rest of it, I mean. We can have more kissing.”
“Good,” said Ann. She squirmed in his lap and wrapped warm arms around his neck.
“I didn’t mean right now.” She put her tongue in his mouth. He decided not to argue.
Ten minutes later she broke away and rested her head on his shoulder. “Aurora says she picks a spot on the ceiling to concentrate on and just lets her mind go blank. It’s over before she knows it.”
“Arrrgh,” Charming lay back and put his face in his hands. “No! Don’t do that. It’ll get better, I promise you.”
Ann climbed on top of him. “I think you’re just wonderful now.” She began nibbling on his ear. “But there’s one thing you can’t do,” she whispered. Warm breath caressed his ear. “You can’t put your hand up my dress today.”
“Oh?” murmured Charming, letting his hand slide up her thigh. “
Why is that?”
“Because I’m not wearing panties,” breathed Ann. She took the lobe between her lips and gently tugged on it. “So it would be very, very naughty if you were to put your hand . . . oooh . . . there.” They grappled for long minutes before Ann pushed away and hastily pulled her dress down. “Aurora’s coming.”
Charming buttoned his shirt and gathered up a pair of books. Although he was still wearing his sword, he looked very relaxed and casual. He kissed Ann once more on the cheek and then stood and bowed to Aurora. “Good morning, your Highness.”
“Good morning, Charming.” Aurora set down her purse. “I won’t take too much of your time as I know you two want to be alone. Ann, I just wanted to review with you the plans for the ball. I’m afraid, Charming, that your little red-haired friend will not be invited this time.”
“I can’t say I’m disappointed. But actually, I expect I’m going to be rather busy…”
“Aurora is giving the ball in our honor,” interrupted Ann.
“Oh. Well, yes, it would be a pleasure to attend.”
“You’re very gracious. Er, Charming, could you have a word with Wendell? He’s very upset.”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve been so busy I haven’t had a chance to talk with him since we got back. Come to think of it, I haven’t even seen him.”
“He’s been avoiding you since he was filled in on the news. In fact, he’d been avoiding everyone.”
“He probably just wants some time to himself.”
“He skipped breakfast this morning.” said Ann. “And dinner last night.”
“Hmmmm. That’s serious all right. Well, Mandelbaum will straighten him out.”
Ann looked at Aurora. “Mandelbaum seems to be preoccupied these days. Wendell really needs to talk to you.”
“Hmmm, okay. Do you know where he is?”
“Down by the river, fishing. Here.” She gave Charming a parcel. “I made some cookies for you to take to him.”
“Thanks.” He kissed her again. “See you later. Goodbye, Aurora.”