“They really offered you nothing?”
A couple of chirps sounded high up in the branches above him. “They told me they would reward me if I could kill Dame Groach,” he said with a glance that direction. “It seems she’s been cursing fairies too. They wouldn’t promise a cure as the reward, though. Honestly, I don’t see myself ever confronting her. She scares the living daylights out of me, she and her great black horse.”
“What are you going to tell your friend?” Alberta asked then.
Duncan didn’t need to tell Wildfire anything, of course, but he answered all the same. “I suppose I’ll tell him that we’ll keep looking. Maybe there’s something we’ve missed, or that the fairies overlooked. As long as he’s alive, there’s still hope.”
“You’re surprisingly optimistic,” said Alberta. “Now, if you don’t mind, I can see a break in the trees ahead.” She suddenly urged her horse to pick up its pace. Wildfire followed suit without Duncan’s bidding. As they exited the woods and the bright, starry sky spanned overhead, the two horses broke into a full gallop. The castle soon loomed before them, and only when they approached the back gate did Alberta slow her pace.
She slid from her mare’s back almost the moment they were within the safety of the walls. “Take her back to the stables,” she commanded. “I’m going straight inside.”
Duncan scrambled to catch the reins. “Was it really that bad?” he asked in wonder.
She didn’t answer, but her hands clenched.
“I’m sorry,” he told her for the second time.
“It was my idea,” she replied. “Aside from some frayed nerves, I’m none the worse for wear. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” he said. For the second night in a row, his heart sank as he watched her go. He thought it was probably a good thing that she acted so very abrasive sometimes. It gave her refuge from her fears, and it kept him from doing something stupid like offering comfort to a princess of Meridiana.
Much as she tried to be disagreeable, he found it more and more difficult to dislike her. He strongly suspected that, were it not for her well-laid plans to keep Margaret single through bad behavior, men would be falling in love with her rather than Bellinda.
The thought terrified him.
Chapter 24
The following three days passed without any major incident except for a steady rainstorm. Duncan worked in one of the greenhouses with nary an interruption from Princess Alberta. She did not summon him, and she certainly did not venture out into the wet weather to find him. Gardener smugly ordered Duncan around, proud that the king had thus satisfied his complaints so effectively.
Duncan thought it was probably for the best, but it still bothered him. He knew Alberta wouldn’t stay away for Gardener’s sake, and that she probably didn’t care about the rain either. He could only conclude that she was finished with him. She had given him all the information she could find on curse-breaking and had no more errands for him in return. After the forest ordeal, she was probably glad to be rid of him. Duncan morosely wondered if it was time for him and Wildfire to move on to another place.
After three days, the rains cleared and Duncan’s chores moved from the greenhouse back to the muddy gardens. Everything always seemed greener after so much rain, including the new crop of weeds that sprouted up in the flower beds. He attacked his assigned area with vigor, glad to have the task. Only a few puffs of clouds trailed through the sky, and a cooling breeze whispered through the trees to make it a very pleasant day.
Servants came and went from the castle, running errands that had been delayed by the rains. Duncan half-expected to see Alberta head out on her own--her lye would be more than ready by now--but she never appeared. For all he knew, she had attended to it already in secret. He continued to work.
The calm of the afternoon broke when a horse and rider barreled through the front castle gate and across the courtyard. The horse skidded to a halt at the steps, and the rider jumped to the ground, pausing only to toss his reins to a surprised guard before he dashed up the stairway and into the castle.
Duncan frowned at this strange behavior, as did all the servants who witnessed it. He didn’t have a chance to wonder any further, though.
“Scurvyhead!” Gardener bellowed from behind him. He started and looked to the man guiltily. “The back hedge needs trimming! Get to it!”
“Yes, sir,” said Duncan. He stood and brushed the dirt from his hands onto his pants. Then, with only a brief detour to the first greenhouse to pick up a pair of hedge trimmers, he retreated to the very back of the castle grounds to trim the hedge that lined that wall.
The area was isolated. Few people wandered that far back in the grounds, and a bank of trees insulated it from most noises. The other side of the wall was open field. Really, there was no more tranquil spot on the castle grounds. Duncan decided just to enjoy the solitude as he worked.
He passed an hour in industrious silence. By his calculations, he could probably trim at least half the length of hedge by sundown, providing he was not interrupted. Just as he had paused to gather the clipped leaves and branches into a pile, though, footsteps pounded behind him. He turned in confusion to discover Alberta, breathless and holding a stitch in her side.
“What are you doing all the way back here?” she demanded between gasps. Duncan gestured dumbly toward the hedge. “Never mind that,” she said irritably. “Come on, come on!”
She beckoned him to follow her. To his surprise, when he stepped forward obediently, she snatched up his hand and pulled him into a trot back the way she had come.
“What’s going on?” he asked in alarm. “Can you slow down? You don’t look like you’re in any condition to run.”
“There’s no time,” she said breathlessly. “They’ve already left.”
“Who?”
“Father, and his knights, and Percy,” said Alberta.
Duncan’s heart sank, but he tugged her to a stop. “There are more marauders?” he asked.
“Yes! Come on!”
She pulled on his arm to get him moving again, but he stayed where he was. “I know where the stables are,” he said firmly. “You don’t need to exert yourself to get me there. Just tell me what I need to know, and I’ll go on my own. It’ll be faster that way.”
Rebellion flashed across her face, but she saw the logic of his words. “A messenger arrived an hour or more ago with news of a small army that has gathered to the north of Midd--it’s these treasure-hunters looking for Sir Goldmayne. They’ve regrouped and banded together even stronger than before, and of course Father immediately ordered his horses saddled to chase after them. He only took fifty men with him! And I’ve been running around trying to find you ever since! You have to go! He’s going to get himself killed!”
He nodded and squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Leave it to me,” he said. Then, with no further farewell, he left her there and ran for the stables.
Wildfire was waiting. “Where have you been?” he demanded the moment Duncan appeared. “King Edwin came through ages ago and rode off with a band of soldiers!”
“I’ve been trimming hedges like a good little under-gardener,” Duncan replied as he scrambled to saddle the horse. “I came as soon as I heard!”
“We have to hurry,” said Wildfire. “They’ve got too much of a jump on us!”
“From what Alberta said, the marauders are already gathered into a small army,” Duncan replied. “We won’t have to bother rounding them up, at least.”
The white horse cursed. “That’s even worse! King Edwin will attack without a second thought! Come on!”
The instant that Duncan swung himself into the saddle, Wildfire shot from his stall and out the stable door, across the yard and through the back gate toward the abbey. He covered the distance in no time. As soon as Duncan slid from his back, he urged him to hurry.
“I have to get my halberd,” said Duncan.
“Pull out your armor first, and then run,” Wildfire instructed.
He did as he was told. As he came trotting back with halberd in hand, he discovered a jet black horse beneath the tree, next to a jet black suit of armor.
“Fayet-thu-blaec,” Wildfire said to the long weapon, and darkness swept over it. “Put your armor on, Duncan! Hurry!”
Quickly he tossed his sheepskin wig underneath the tree with the little bottle of goldwater and began to fit the plates of armor upon himself. Wildfire chose not to comment on his speed, deeming it more important for Duncan to suit up without such distractions. Some buckles were not as tight as they should have been, but Duncan soon had everything in its proper place. The helmet went on last of all; its long golden tassel shone like a flame against the blackness of the armor. He hopped astride the black horse, and away they tore across the countryside.
Alberta had said the army of rogues lay to the north. The vagueness of this direction made no difference. An army was an army and would be easy enough to find. Wildfire needed no urging to hurry, either.
They heard the ruffians before they saw them. Duncan and Wildfire crested a grassy hill and discovered the battle already commencing in front of them. King Edwin and his men charged from one side of a wide meadow, and the army of marauders, many of them on foot, screamed defiantly as they charged from the other. They had no cause for fear, for they outnumbered the king’s men at least three to one.
Wildfire gave Duncan no time to prepare. Instead, he plunged down the hill in a streak of black as the two forces clashed. Duncan moved his halberd into position and hunched down for a powerful impact upon the enemy ranks. Those who saw the black pair coming lost their bravado immediately: Sir Goldmayne and his horse descended upon them like a vengeful scourge of darkness.
The halberd made contact and knocked its first man to the ground, then its second, then its third. By then Duncan was in the thick of things. He used the long weapon to his best advantage, then cast it away and ripped his sword from its sheath. The blade was black and very soon wet with blood as he felled foe after foe before him. He battled with such ferocity that the rogues around him soon scrambled to get away rather than to engage him. Wildfire trampled many into the mud beneath his hooves as Duncan cut his way through the host.
As before, King Edwin and his men rounded up those who tried to run away. Many surrendered and begged for mercy. Others scrambled for whatever cover they could reach in the hopes of escaping the black fury of Sir Goldmayne.
All too soon the last man in Duncan’s view fell to his sword. The sounds of the battlefield came to his ears through his own fading battle-frenzy. King Edwin had kept his saddle and shouted frantic commands to his knights, who scrambled to create a wide circumference around Goldmayne. Their circle was complete and their weapons held at the ready before Duncan or Wildfire had time to react.
King Edwin astride his horse occupied the circle with Duncan. “We have you now, Sir Goldmayne!” he crowed.
Wildfire reared up on his hind legs and whinnied magnificently. Duncan kept tight grip as the horse suddenly lurched forward and ran straight for the ring of knights that blocked his escape. The horse’s path crossed directly in front of King Edwin and his mount, but he ignored the monarch’s shouted commands for Sir Goldmayne to halt.
The king had grown desperate in his desire to trap the mysterious knight. Just as Wildfire bolted in front of him, he thrust forward his spear. It found its place in Duncan’s leg, wedged between the too-loose plates of his black armor.
Duncan gasped as pain shot through him. The flow of time seemed to slow to a trickle. Beneath his visor he stared wide-eyed at King Edwin, who stared back at him breathlessly. Then, time resumed its proper frame.
Wildfire’s speed ripped the spear from King Edwin’s hand. In a rush of blinding pain, Duncan wrenched the weapon out of his leg just as his horse launched into a spectacular jump over the nearest knight. Wildfire hit the ground running. Duncan battled shock from the pain that coursed through him. He tried to focus only on staying astride the horse, but all the while he could feel the warm, wet blood as it seeped down his leg and puddled in the armor that encased his foot.
“Wildfire,” he called weakly, when he deemed them to be far enough away from the pursuing band of knights. “He stabbed me, Wildfire!”
The horse slowed. “What?” he asked in disbelief. “Who?”
“King Edwin,” said Duncan. “He stabbed me as we passed. His spear, it went into my leg. We’re going to leave a trail of blood!”
Wildfire cursed roundly and broke into a full-blown gallop. “We’ll get you back to the abbey and bind it up. Can you prop your leg up in the saddle at all, to slow the blood flow?”
Duncan managed this with some difficult maneuvering. The pain was excruciating. His leg didn’t want to move at all, let alone be hoisted up onto a saddle. His breath came in short bursts as he tried to get some pressure down upon the spot in hopes that it would slow the bleeding. Wildfire tore through the countryside, heedless of whether anyone followed them, too fast for anyone to succeed.
For Duncan, though, it was not fast enough.
Chapter 25
Princess Alberta sat with Bellinda and Margaret as they waited for their father and his knights to return. No one spoke. Margaret was of a taciturn nature anyway, and Bellinda was too occupied with watching out the window. Alberta tried to keep herself busy with one of her many notebooks, but she couldn’t concentrate. She focused all of her attention on the page before her, eyes unseeing but determined not to look toward Bella at the window. If she checked on Bellinda at the window, Margaret would know she was nervous. Alberta didn’t want Margaret to suspect anything.
She’d sent Duncan to his doom against an army of villains, just as he had told her she might. He had gone willingly, too. There was no reason for her to worry, she told herself as she read the same three lines in her notes over and over again. Goldmayne knew how to fight, knew how to defend himself. What’s more, he knew that the invasion of rogues into Meridiana was his fault, and thus his responsibility to eradicate.
“Here they come!” cried Bellinda. She leaned up against the window for a better view. Alberta barely restrained herself from surging forward to join her. “There’s Father and Percy at the very front of the group! Oh, they have ever so many prisoners behind them! But there’s no sign of Sir Goldmayne anywhere! Father must’ve failed again.”
A sigh of relief left Alberta’s lungs before she could stop it. “Shall we go down to meet them?” she asked with as much disinterest as she could muster.
“Of course,” said Margaret primly, and she set aside the book she had been reading. “It’s only proper that we greet our Father when he returns triumphant from a battle.”
Bella was already halfway to the door. “I wonder what tale of Goldmayne they have today,” she said eagerly.
“Maybe he didn’t show up,” said Alberta as she followed alongside Margaret. “There’s no rule that says he has to come whenever Father leaves Midd to battle.”
“But he always does,” Bellinda protested with a pout.
The three girls made their way down a curving staircase and emerged in the courtyard just as King Edwin and Prince Perceval dismounted. The knights were busy leading apprehended ruffians away in a line toward the dungeons.
“You’re not going to have room for them all,” Percy observed with a frown.
“There’s room enough,” said King Edwin with smug smile. Alberta could tell at a glance that he was pleased about something. She wasn’t entirely sure why that put her on edge, except that on the two such previous raids her father had returned in a foul mood after Goldmayne escaped his clutches.
“Father!” Bellinda cried joyfully, and she threw her arms around his neck. “Did he come? Did you see him again? What color was he today?”
King Edwin held her at arm’s length to look down upon her in triumph. “Black,” he said. “He was black as a thundercloud, and just as fearsome. But I’ve got him at last!”
“What?” said
Alberta sharply, and she tried to color that word with skepticism rather than anxiety. “Have you sent him to the dungeon with the other prisoners, then?”
“Oh, no, my dear,” said her father indulgently. “I don’t mean that I’ve got him in person, but I have got him. Gerard, my spear!”
His attendant ran forward with this weapon and presented it to the king. King Edwin planted its blunt end in the ground and gestured proudly toward the blade with his free hand.
Alberta’s skin crawled with sudden horror. The steel head was stained with dried blood. The tip, too, was jagged. Its point was missing, had broken off.
“Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?” Bellinda asked uncertainly.
“I stabbed him,” said King Edwin, as though this should have been abundantly obvious. “When he went to escape from us, I thrust forward my spear and caught his leg. The point broke off, so all we have to do is find the man who has it, and we’ll have found Goldmayne!”
“Father, you might have killed him!” cried Bellinda in horror.
“It was only his leg,” King Edwin said defensively.
“What if he throws the spear tip away?” Margaret asked. “Don’t you think finding him now will be just as difficult as before? Or do you think he’ll happily present himself before the man who injured him?”
“He will when he discovers that the tip of that spear will earn him the hand of whichever of my daughters he wishes to marry, and at least half the kingdom as reward,” said King Edwin.
Margaret opened her mouth, but then snapped it shut again. A faint blush rose on her cheeks, but she said nothing. Bella was not so tactful. “Whichever of us?” she asked. “I thought the eldest had to marry first!”
“I’ve decided that’s a silly rule,” her father said. “If Margaret doesn’t wish to marry yet, why should you and Alberta be punished? You’re all of age. Although, Margaret, if Sir Goldmayne wishes for your hand, I hope you will at least consider it.”
Goldmayne: A Fairy Tale Page 30