The Perilous Princess Plot

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by Sarah Courtauld


  And I will kidnap princes,

  And I will kidnap kings,

  King Harold, Queen Matilda

  And all their diamond rings!

  I’ll be such a dreadful villain

  That no one will resist

  And anyone who’s anyone

  Will want to be …

  Will queue to be …

  Will fight until they’re blue to be …

  The very lucky kidnappee

  Who’s next upon my list.”

  Sitting on the cold, damp floor of the cell, Lavender and Eliza listened to the echoes of Mordmont’s singing, until he finally stopped. (He had been distracted by an incredibly handsome-looking face that he’d spotted in the mirror.)

  “Well,” said Eliza.

  “Well,” said Lavender.

  “Well,” said Eliza.

  “Maybe if I sang a song…” Lavender began.

  “Please don’t.”

  “What if I grew my hair, just like Rapunzel, and then let it down out of the window, and—”

  “Lavender!” said Eliza.

  “What?”

  “No more fairy tales,” said Eliza with a scowl.

  “Sorry,” said Lavender. “What if I pretended to be asleep, and then a prince would come and rescue me—”

  “LAVENDER,” said Eliza.

  “Or what if there’s a frog in the moat who’s really a cursed prince, and he’s just waiting for me to dive in and kiss him? I suppose I would have to kiss every frog in the moat, and the toads too, to be safe—”

  “LAVENDER!” said Eliza.

  “Sorry,” said Lavender.

  “What did I just say?”

  “Er … Lavender?” said Lavender.

  “NO MORE FAIRY TALES!” said Eliza, and she picked up the book of fairy tales and hurled it out of the window. It landed in the moat with a splash, and was never seen again.

  “Eliza!” said Lavender.

  “What?” scowled Eliza.

  Lavender paused.

  “Thanks for trying to rescue me,” she said in a very small voice.

  “Twice,” said Eliza.

  “Thanks for coming to rescue me, twice. I’m sorry about everything. It really is all my fault,” said Lavender.

  “Yep,” said Eliza.

  “You were just trying to help me.”

  “Rescue you—”

  “But I made a mess of everything,” said Lavender.

  “Yep.”

  “And now everything’s ruined.”

  “Yep,” said Eliza. “Although my plan didn’t exactly work either,” she added quietly, staring at her fingernails. She hated admitting she was wrong. “I could have had a better disguise. And I suppose I did drop the ransom. I made a mess of everything too.”

  “Well, you tried,” said Lavender, putting an arm around her sister. “At least we’re together, that’s the most important thing.”

  “You’re right,” said Eliza. “That is the most important thing.”

  “This is a bit cheesy,” said Bonnet, pushing open the bars to their cell, and setting down two bowls of soup.

  “Cheese and turnip soup,” he explained.

  “Thanks, Bonnet,” said Lavender.

  “It was the least I could do,” said Bonnet. “I hope you are quite comfortable?”

  “Not really,” said Eliza. “We’d like to go home.”

  “Of course,” said Bonnet. “I only wish there was something I could do to help.”

  “You could help by giving us the keys,” said Eliza.

  “The keys?” asked Bonnet innocently.

  “Yes, the keys in your hand.”

  “Oh,” Bonnet replied. “Those keys.”

  For a moment he stood there, his mouth opening and shutting like a slightly confused trout. “Hmmmmmnnngh,” he said. “I’ll … er … I’ll … yes, I see … let me just … um … yes.”

  “All you need to do is give them to us,” said Eliza, staring at him hard. “It’s quite simple.”

  “You’re right,” said Bonnet, flushing pink. “Well, here you are.”

  Bonnet held out his hand.

  “Bonnet?” said Eliza.

  “Yep?”

  “Those aren’t the keys. That’s a piece of paper, with a picture of some keys on it.”

  “Is it? Oh. So it is. Er, my mistake. I’ll, um … I’ll … just … er…”

  And without finishing his sentence, Bonnet edged backward, locked the cell, and went quickly down the stairs.

  I really should help them, Bonnet thought. They’re innocent, after all. And Princess Fahalahalahalaha sings such beautiful songs. Of course I will help them. I must.

  He turned around and started walking back up the stairs.

  But then, what about Mordmont?

  As Bonnet reached the top step, he came to a halt, turned, and ran back down the stairs again. And he was almost at the bottom of the staircase when another thought popped into his head.

  But what will become of the princesses?

  So, very slowly, he started tramping back up the stairs again. He was almost at the princesses’ cell when a very vivid image popped into his head.

  Clive!

  Which made him run all the way back down the stairs again.

  An hour later, Bonnet was exhausted and dizzy and still holding on to the keys. What a horrible mess I’m in, he thought. But what can I do? I’m only a tiny, cowardly giant.

  And, in an effort to cheer himself up, he decided to go and eat an egg in the bath. He hated being a villain’s sidekick’s sidekick. It was even worse than his previous jobs, which were:

  • A laughingstock.

  • A human bowling ball.

  • Really missing his parents.*

  • Crying.*

  * * *

  Back in the cell, Eliza was trying to force down some of the disgusting soup. It was cold, and as sticky as glue.

  “We have to get out of here,” said Eliza.

  “I know,” said Lavender. “Ugh! What happened to your knees?”

  “Just … don’t even ask,” said Eliza. She had almost forgotten about her incredibly knobbly old-lady knees. Here they are again, just in case you missed them the first time:

  “They’re so lumpy and hairy and withered! They’re disgusting!”

  “I know,” said Eliza. “I just had to lend my knees to a witch … Oh, never mind.”

  “You really shouldn’t have done that,” said Lavender unhelpfully. “You don’t know what she’ll do with them. And those knees won’t help us get rescued, will they?”

  “Thanks for pointing that out, Lavender,” muttered Eliza. “Look, there has to be a way out. I’m sure we can think of something.” She shut her eyes tight to help herself think.

  And then there was a silence.

  It was long.

  R e a l l y l o n g.

  It was longer than the world’s longest animal. (A Mongolian Death Worm, since you ask.)

  “Well?” said Lavender. “Eliza? Eliza, are you asleep?”

  “Put them in the sheep basket,” murmured Eliza.

  “Eliza. You are asleep!” said Lavender, prodding her sister.

  Eliza opened her eyes.

  “You’re supposed to be working out our escape plan!” said Lavender.

  “Sorry,” said Eliza. “Let’s both think.”

  So they both thought.

  There was another silence, longer than two Mongolian Death Worms.

  “Maybe we’ll think of something in the morning,” said Lavender, stifling a yawn.

  “Yeah. Maybe,” said Eliza.

  So they both curled up on the damp straw bed, and shut their eyes, trying not to think about the possibility that they might never escape Mordmont’s castle.

  “I hope Gertrude’s all right,” said Eliza.

  “I know. And Grandma Maud,” Lavender whispered. “She’s probably worried sick about us.”

  In fact, Grandma Maud wasn’t doing too badly. Here’s wh
at Grandma Maud was doing at that very moment:

  “I wonder what she would do if she was here,” whispered Lavender.

  “She’d tell us a story about the Black Death,” Eliza said. “With spots…”

  “And lumps…”

  “And withered skin…”

  “And fingers falling off…”

  “Wait!” they both said at the same time.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” said Lavender.

  “I don’t know,” said Eliza. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s both say what we’re thinking at the same time!”

  So they did.

  “Let’s pretend we’ve got the Black Death!” said Eliza, at the same time as Lavender said, “Let’s sing a song about Grandma Maud!”

  Eliza looked down at the gray, gluey cheese and turnip soup, and remembered the words of Boris the Wise. Maybe the turnip could help them after all …

  Chapter Twenty

  In which—Urgh! I wouldn’t read this one if I were you. It’s disgusting.

  The very next morning, Eliza and Lavender were awake at the crack of dawn.

  “How many stick-on beauty spots have you got?” whispered Eliza.

  “Um … seventy-three,” said Lavender.

  “Seventy-three?!!” said Eliza.

  “And a bag of flour to make myself look like Snow White. It’s always good to be prepared.”

  “And how much sticky soup do we have?”

  “Two bowls,” said Lavender. “Full of bits of turnip.”

  “And we’ve got all these cobwebs…”

  “Yep,” said Lavender.

  They took the flour and rubbed it into their skin until they looked as white as ghosts. Then they took Lavender’s stick-on beauty spots, and covered themselves with those. They got the cold, gloopy soup and covered their arms and legs with sticky bits of turnip.

  Then they took all the spiders’ webs from the ceiling and wrapped them around their fingers to make their skin look withered.

  “This is the most disgusting thing I have EVER, EVER done,” said Lavender. “I do not like this.”

  “You should try cleaning out Gertrude’s pen more often.”

  “Hmmmmm,” said Lavender, frowning. She did not appreciate being made to look disgusting. “If I meet a prince like this, I am going to kill you,” she said.

  “It’s not that likely,” said Eliza.

  At last they were ready.

  “We really are in a horrible mess,” Eliza said with a grin.

  At about this time, Mordmont sprang out of his bed feeling particularly pleased with himself. “Two thousand silver pieces!” he said. “Two thousand silver pieces! All for ME!”

  He danced through the hall, waltzed through the pantry, and skipped up the staircase to check on his prisoners.

  “Good mor— Ughhh!” he yelped, looking into the cell. “What is the meaning of this?!” he gasped.

  “Oh, it’s nothing really. We’ve just got a few spots,” said Lavender in a weak, quavering voice. (Lavender had an amazing sick voice. She had used it many times before to get out of cleaning Gertrude’s pen. But it had never had such a dramatic effect as it did now.)

  “Spots?” said Mordmont.

  “Only fifteen or so,” said Eliza.

  “I’ve got twenty-three,” Lavender croaked proudly. “But then she has got more lumps. Would you like to see them?”

  “A thousand times, no,” said Mordmont very quickly before he yelped again. “What on earth happened to your knees?! They’re so … withered!”

  “Oh, er, I see what you mean,” said Eliza.

  Mordmont shuddered and turned to Lavender. “Princess Fahalahalahalaha, why is your hand in a bandage?”

  “Oh, it’s a bit embarrassing,” said Lavender. “I … I … oh, oh dear…”

  And then Lavender slumped to one side and collapsed onto the floor, in her most convincing faint ever.

  “What is wrong with her?!” said Mordmont. “What have you done to her! Why has she collapsed? What is going ON?”

  “Er, a bit of her finger, sort of … fell off … in the night,” said Eliza apologetically. “She’s just feeling a bit peaky.”

  And Eliza held up what looked a lot like a withered fingertip. (Although on closer inspection it looked a lot more like a withered turnip.)

  “Spots,” said Mordmont, growing paler by the second. “Lumps … Withered skin … Collapsing … Fingers that fall off … That can only mean one thing … THE BLACK DEATH!”

  And then, as if his mustache had been set on fire, Mordmont started hopping up and down.

  “OUT! GET OUT! OUT! OUT! OUT! OUT! GET OUT OF MY CASTLE!”

  “Oh, are we free to go?” said Lavender, opening her eyes. “That’s very kind of you.”

  And they both stood up to give Mordmont a grateful hug.

  “DON’T TOUCH ME!” he shrieked. “GET AWAY! GET AWAY! GET AWAY! GET AWAY! GO ON GO ON GO ON GO ON—GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!!!”

  And he chased them out of the cell, down the stairs, through the pantry, the scullery, the ballroom, the hall, and right out of the front door of the castle.

  “BE GONE!!!!” he screeched. And with a last swift, powerful kick, Mordmont sent his horribly diseased prisoners flying through the air, to freedom!

  If by the word “freedom” you mean “a stinking, deadly moat, full of monstrous moat-dragons.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  In which there is something slimy.

  “Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!”

  The girls plunged straight into the yellowy-green slime, and were hit by a smell worse than Gertrude’s morning breath.

  “Gurgggghhhh,” said Lavender, surfacing with her eyes shut tight.

  “Erghhhhhh,” said Eliza, doggy-paddling beside her, squinting, and trying hard not to breathe in the fumes, as tendrils of moat weed wrapped themselves around her arms, and legs, and ankles. They were soft and they were everywhere, wrapping themselves around her like strands of witch’s hair.

  “Bleurghhhghhh,” coughed Lavender as she accidentally swallowed a mouthful of moat water. It tasted like a seasick goblin’s vomit. She pulled her chin as high out of the water as she could, with her eyes still shut, and swam round and round in a circle.

  “This way!” Eliza shouted. As they shrieked and swam and splashed and screamed, Bonnet, who was having a quiet nap in the kitchen, woke up and pattered over to the window.

  And the moat-dragons, who were also having a quiet nap, deep in the moat, woke up too.

  The prisoners! The prisoners have escaped! Bonnet thought. They’re free! He smiled. And then he remembered the moat-dragons. Oohhhh! Someone should rescue them. Really. Someone should really rescue them. Now. Bonnet gulped as he looked out across the moat to the forest beyond. Perhaps a knight will ride by. Or a prince? A prince on a bright white steed? But no prince materialized. All Bonnet could see from his window was a slightly sad-looking goat nibbling flowers on the outskirts of the forest. Hmmmmn.

  “Ggg-maybe the moat-dragons are gg-asleep!” gurgled Eliza.

  But just as she said that, she heard a hissing. And then a snorting, snuffling sound. As Eliza turned her head, she caught sight of several pairs of bright eyes, staring back at her. The eyes glowed violet, and they belonged to three bright green heads, each topped with long, sharp spikes.

  “YARGHHHHH!” screamed Eliza.

  “ARGHHHH!” screamed Lavender. The two of them started swimming as fast as they could through the thick, treacly water. There’s nothing like a horde of ravenous moat-dragons chasing you to make you zoom across a moat at an incredible speed.

  Well, there are some things. Like magical powers, or a dolphin to ride on, or three wizards suddenly appearing and giving you a ship made of wool to sail away on. Any of those would have been great. Apart from the last one: that probably wouldn’t have worked at all. But Lavender and Eliza didn’t have anything to help them, apart from thei
r fear. And that gave them a surge of energy and they swam as fast as they could.

  As she swam, Lavender thought about the swooshing, rushing, snapping, gnashing sounds that were coming from behind her. They almost certainly weren’t from moat-dragons, surging along in the water, getting more and more hungry and excited as they got closer to their prey.

  No, she thought. They were probably just the sounds of lilies, floating on the moat. The lilies had probably always made those snapping, toothy, bitey, snarly, hungry sounds, only she had never really listened to them before.

  And those sharp jabbing pains in her toes? They definitely weren’t moat-dragons biting them because they felt like a cheeky little pre-dinner snack. Definitely not. Those pains were probably just some totally harmless bitey water.

  Lavender and Eliza kept swimming, and swimming, with the dragons streaking through the water behind them. The girls’ arms felt like lead, and their legs felt like lead, and it was lucky they weren’t actually made of lead, because then they would definitely have sunk, or been used to make pipes. But soon they were almost at the bank, and beyond that was the forest. And standing under the trees, not far off, was Gertrude, looking wildly excited to see them after all this time.

  “Done it,” Eliza gasped, “we’ve done it!” as they both reached the bank and pulled themselves up and out of the water. A second slower and the dragons would have had them for dinner, and possibly tomorrow’s breakfast as well, for now they were hissing and spluttering and snapping at the edge of the bank, but Eliza and Lavender were safe.

  They caught their breath, and then threw it, and then caught it again, and wiped the weeds, slime, and frogs off their faces.

  “We got out,” said Eliza. But as she said those words she heard an enormous SPLASH, as if some huge and heavy object had just dropped from a great height, into the moat.

  Which it had. For, in the middle of the moat, something was thrashing wildly in the water. And two pale white arms were flailing in the air.

  “Bonnet?” said Lavender.

  “I’ve—come—come—to—to—to…” Bonnet gasped just before his head, and his bonnet, disappeared under the water.

  “Bonnet!” Lavender screamed.

 

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