by Shea, K. M.
Steffen returned the smile and embraced Elise. “Thank you, sister.”
“Oi, where did the enchantress go? Ouch!” Gerhart said when Nick smacked his back.
“She left. You’re so unobservant, Gerhie,” Nick said.
“I said not to call me that!”
“What do we do?” Rune asked.
“I believe that answer rests with Elise,” Erick said, shifting his sharp eyes to her face.
“Angelique said we should move to a different pond. We can travel there tomorrow in the daylight, when you are all swans. I feel it would be wisest to stay here for the night,” Elise said.
“What’s so good about this new place?” Gerhart asked, dodging another smack from Nick.
“The pond is larger, and Angelique mentioned it would be more hospitable for me. It also has more stinging nettles in the surrounding area.”
“You will try to break our curse?” Mikk asked.
“I won’t try. I’m going to,” Elise grimly said. “I never settle for less than perfection. This will not be any different.”
“We certainly lucked out when Mother found you. To think she’d be right after all these years—mind you, this isn’t what I was picturing,” Nick said, folding his arms behind his head.
“What?” Elise frowned.
Mikk elbowed Nick, and Steffen gave Elise one of his statesman smiles. “Nothing. He is merely overcome by gratitude for you.”
“Naturally,” Nick coughed.
“I see,” Elise said, unconvinced.
“I suspect we would better use our time as a human by planning for tomorrow, yes?” Erick asked with a harmless smile.
“Of course,” Elise agreed.
“What direction did Lady Angelique point you in?”
“North east.”
“Wonderful. When the sun rises…”
Chapter 5
Getting her foster brothers/swans brothers to the pond Angelique mentioned was easier than Elise thought it would be. She went first, riding Falk’s horse, and the seven princes of Arcainia followed behind, walking on their black, webbed feet. They chortled and hissed, smacking each other and squabbling amongst themselves every step of the way. They followed Elise, however, with great determination, squawking and flapping their wings to catch up whenever they thought she rode too far ahead of them.
Just as Angelique said, the new pond was better for their long-term needs. It was half the size of Castle Brandis, barely skirting being called a small lake. A piece of shore jutted towards the center of the pond, making it heart shaped. It was habited by a pair of wild geese, a flock of ducks, and dozens of croaking frogs and swimming fish.
The forest lay closer to one of the sandy shores, providing shelter for Elise. There was even a rock formation Elise could huddle against, and one of the rocks had a shelf that extended out, creating a roofed area for days of bad weather.
Elise stored the horse’s tack there, as well as her tattered uniform after she changed into the drab, gray dress Angelique had provided.
“I don’t think I’ve gone stocking foot since Queen Ingrid found me,” Elise said to one of her swan brothers who watched her toss her slippers next to the horse tack. “It is a little liberating,” she said, twirling once. The gray skirted dress, which fell a few inches below her knees, poofed up.
Elise released the horse, and he grazed happily in the meadow that butted up to the pond. She took her gold key off her work uniform and shredded her red sash. Using the sash, she braided a long chain, which she slipped the key onto before she tied it around her neck and slid it under her plain dress.
When she was finished, she found several swans watching her. “I may as well get started,” she said when one of the swans rested its head on her bent knee. “Knitting is what we’re here for, after all,” she said, stroking the swan’s head before she stood and made her way to the forest.
Elise started by scavenging for twigs and thin branches she could use as makeshift knitting needles. It took her a while to find two branches that were the proper thickness she was looking for. They were dry, and the bark peeled cleanly off, but Elise was glad to see they did not break easily when she tried snapping them to make each branch the desired length.
Next Elise, sporting a gaggle of several swans paddling behind her, searched for stinging nettles. She didn’t have to look very long before she found some in the forest. She inspected them, touching the plant stems, which prickled the soft skin of her fingers.
Elise dug up the plants by their roots. She gathered a large pile and carried them back to the pond where she stripped them of their leaves.
Several times, Elise stopped to plunge her hands in the cool pond water, grimacing when the water stung the prickles left in her hands.
The skin on the top of her hands was red and splotchy by the time Elise got started on the first shirt in the late afternoon, tying the first loops—the cast on—of the shirt on one of her makeshift needles.
The swans observed her during this process. Usually three or four were stationed around her at any given time, and the rest of them paddled in the pond, nibbling on grasses and catching minnows.
It seemed to Elise that they weren’t as stupid or beast-like as the day before. She was still clipped by a large white wing several times that day when a swan went dashing past, chasing bugs or a fellow swan, but none of them pecked her, and they seemed more aware of her presence.
One swan seemed intent on exploring the area. He always returned after several minutes, wiggling his tail feathers and calling to the rest of his brothers, although he often popped out of unexpected places. Once, he nearly fell into Elise’s lap after crashing off the top of the rock formation where Elise had set up her knitting station.
The swan righted himself and walked away, making Elise wonder which brother it was. (Elise didn’t think it was Rune, but she couldn’t be sure, as none of the swans seemed to stand out as one particular brother.)
When the sun started to sink on the horizon, seven swans were waiting on the pond.
Just like the night before, waves rocked the pond surface, and an odd light grew around each swan. The swans were raised out of the water, their wings outstretched, before they disappeared in a cloud of feathers.
This time, Elise could hear the enormous splash as each brother hit the water once transformed. The feathers reformed around the princes—making their glossy white clothes—and Elise was once again in the presence of the seven princes of Arcainia.
Falk was the first prince out of the water, barking orders as we went. “Gerhart, start gathering wood suitable for a fire. Erick, we need to build at least one wall to the shelter so Elise can get out of the wind and rain. For this week, a makeshift shelter will work, but we will need to make something more permanent for the future,” Falk said, passing Elise without acknowledging her at all. “If you could figure out the structure and mark out the kind of branches to look for, Mikk and Nick will fetch them for you.”
Erick smiled at Elise as he followed in Falk’s wake. “That sounds reasonable. We would do well to secure some sort of rope for her so we could tie the branches together to make a more solid structure,” Erick said.
“Rune,” Falk called.
“She needs a knife,” Rune said, water dripping from him as he ambled to Elise’s side.
Falk and Erick did a great deal of talking and walking around Elise’s rock structure shelter as the rest of the brothers left the pond.
“How are you doing, Elise?” Rune asked tugging on the ribbon that held Elise’s hair back in a low ponytail.
“Better than could be expected, stop that,” Elise said, sliding away from him.
Rune sighed. “I would question you further, but I need to get started on your knife. Walk with me?”
“Sure,” Elise said, glancing at the rest of the Arcainian princes to see what they did. Erick had Mikk and Nick by Elise’s shelter and gestured with his arms to show dimensions of the branches he was looking for.
>
Steffen was puttering around on the shore, sorting through rocks.
Falk ignored the oldest prince as he stalked back to the pond. “Gerhart, what part of now did you not understand?” Falk barked.
Gerhart squeezed water from his clothes. “I thought you were joking. It’s dark; I can’t see anything.”
“The moon is almost full, and we have a limited amount of time to work. Get going,” Falk growled.
“I don’t want to. I’m only human for an hour. I don’t want to waste that hour doing chores.”
Falk snatched Gerhart’s shirt collar and dragged him towards the woods. “You don’t have a choice. Find firewood or else,” Falk barked, barely avoiding Steffen—who was still puttering with rocks.
“What is going on?” Elise asked Rune as she strolled with him.
The handsome middle prince weaved up and down the shoreline, his eyes glued to the ground. “We’re trying to ease your burden.”
“Pardon?”
“We can’t expect you to knit us shirts and make a decent camp for yourself. There are seven of us. We should be able to accomplish a decent amount of work in just an hour,” Rune said, crouching to pick up a stone. He inspected it before tossing it over his shoulder and moving on.
“I’m off to find a softwood base,” Steffen announced, carrying several rocks as he ventured to the edge of the forest.
“When did you decide to do this, and how did Falk become the captain of this venture?” Elise asked as Falk exited the woods sans Gerhart.
Falk found Elise’s dress and thoughtlessly ripped one of the sleeves off, making Elise wince. He tied off one end and stomped back into the woods.
“He knows the woods best. With his line of work in the Agriculture Department he’s learned more about plants and trees than the rest of us combined,” Rune said picking up a rock.
“I would have thought you would be the one most comfortable in the wild,” Elise said. “You spend a great deal of your time camping. I don’t know if Falk has ever set up a camp in his entire life.”
“I don’t think he has either, but with his knowledge of trees and woods and with Erick’s mind, they could accomplish more than would ever occur to me. And you’re right. I’ve camped the most, but I always stay in temporary camps with a tent. Steffen says we need to make a more permanent site for you. I agree,” Rune said, still carrying the rock as he climbed higher up the shore.
“Can you understand each other as swans?” Elise asked.
“Goodness no,” Rune said. “We outlined all of this last night while you and Steffen were busy talking about what happened with Clotilde after the Lady Enchantress left,” Rune said. He found a larger, smooth rock and briefly returned to the pond to dunk his first rock in the water.
He sat down on the smooth shore and started chipping away at the wet stone. “Sit with me, please? It grieves me that I spend the whole day with you, unable to remember you or converse with you for even a moment,” Rune said.
“Do you remember anything as a swan?” Elise asked.
“Only that you are wildly important to me. I think when I am a swan I think like a swan. Now that I am human again, it is hard to remember what it is like to be a swan,” Rune admitted.
“That should make the days more bearable. It means you won’t be sitting around, worrying,” Elise said.
“Perhaps, but it’s not very satisfying,” Rune said as he chipped away at the stone.
Steffen returned, carrying a log that was split in half. “Will this work, Rune?”
Rune briefly inspected the log, feeling its grainy surface. “That’s willow. It will be perfect. Remember the hardwood should be about a foot long and pointed.”
Steffen tossed the log down next to Rune. “I will let you sharpen it to a point,” he graciously said, the white of his clothes gleaming in the night as he disappeared back into the woods.
“Did you say you were making a knife?” Elise asked as Rune slowly shaped the stone he hammered away at.
“A rudimentary one, yes. It won’t be much good as a weapon, but it should make it easier to gather the nettles; you can saw them off at the base with this,” Rune said.
“Can I do anything to help?” Elise asked.
“No,” Falk stressed as he emerged from the shadows, holding Elise’s ripped sleeve like a sack. “Save these for tomorrow,” he instructed, opening it to show Elise the brightly colored berries kept inside. “They’re safe to eat, although they’re going to be tart,” he said before he moved on, putting the sleeve of berries on Elise’s dress before he disappeared back into the woods.
“What Falk means to say is that we feel you should sit and relax. You labor for us all day. It is only fair that we should help you however we can,” Rune said, holding up the rock he was shaping to get a better look at it in the moonlight. “I might have to delay the knife and work first on getting you a fire. It will be easier to see by firelight.”
Gerhart returned and dumped an armload of dry branches near Elise’s shelter. Mikk and Nick were behind him, dragging branches as thick as Elise’s fist, which Erick leaned against the jutting rock roof to create a basic wall.
“Tinder,” Mikk said to Gerhart, pointing to the meadow where Falk’s horse had spent the afternoon.
Gerhart rolled his eyes, but waded into meadow, looking for dry grass.
“How many more logs and branches do you want?” Nick asked, dusting his hands off.
“About double of what you just retrieved. I would dearly love to construct something more dependable, but without rope or any sort of binding agent, this is the best we can do,” Erick said.
“Alright, I’ll grab Falk’s horse. I can use the girth from his saddle to bundle more wood and balance it on his back—if the fool horse doesn’t run off on me,” Nick said.
“His bit and reins are next to the saddle,” Elise called.
“Righto,” Nick said, grabbing the tack. He whistled as he approached Falk’s horse. “Hey there, horsie. Don’t be a brute like your owner, and let me catch you.”
Mikk stayed behind and started ripping dry, flaky bark off some of the firewood Gerhart had collected.
Elise watched her foster brothers and tried to swallow the knot forming in her throat. “This means a lot to me,” she said.
Rune dropped his chipped rock to ease closer to Elise. He slid an arm around her back and placed his cheek against her head. “I wish I could spare you this ordeal. What we’re doing doesn’t seem like it is nearly enough,” he said before a rock whacked him in the back. Rune abruptly pulled away from Elise, wincing in pain. “Ouch.”
“Sorry,” Falk said, sounding anything but as he dumped a few handfuls of clover onto Elise’s dress with the berries. “These are edible. They don’t taste like much, but they will fill you when you grow hungry, Lamb,” he said before turning on his heels and joining Erick at Elise’s shelter.
“He sounded angry,” Elise said.
“That’s because he is,” Rune said, rubbing the sore spot on his back before he went back to chipping away at his rock.
“I see,” Elise said, watching Falk inspect Erick’s growing wall.
Some things, even in the worst situations, didn’t ever seem to change.
Elise knitted as she watched the sun sink behind the trees. Soon it would be sunset, and her foster brothers would be men again for an hour.
Staring at the sky distracted Elise from the way her fingers burned and stung. Each loop she made with the stinging nettle stem was painful and torturous, but Elise knitted with a stony expression. When she wasn’t eagerly watching for the sun to set, she spent the time making calculations. She mentally remapped Brandis’ operations budget. She calculated the various prices at which the royal house could hope to price their crops. Numbers ran through her mind from the moment she picked up the blistering, burning shirt until she finally set it down again.
When Elise was busy running sums and mathematical problems through her mind, she didn’t have t
he capacity to acknowledge the stinging pain in her fingers.
Because Elise was so deep in thought—she was calculating how long it would be until Carabas’ harbor would be open—Elise didn’t hear the footsteps until they were just behind her.
Elise whirled around, clutching the shirt to her belly. Her eyes swiveled back and forth as she looked for the source of footsteps. She didn’t see the figure until it stepped out from behind a tree.
“Princess?”
Elise went slack with relief. It was Brida, the stone-faced captain.
Brida approached Elise cautiously. She wore plain breeches and a black shirt, and her hair was pulled back in a pretty braid. But even out of uniform, one could not mistake Brida for anything but a warrior. For starters, there was a sword buckled to her side, and Elise would bet her last copper that there were daggers tucked up her sleeves and in her boots. She walked with a grace that was different from females who minced along in pretty dresses. She was thicker and taller than most females, but she was lean, and her eyes were always watchful.
Elise offered Brida a wan smile.
“What are you doing out here? Are you knitting?” Brida asked, her eyes going to the horrible shirt Elise still clung to. “Where are your brothers?”
Elise nodded her head to the pond where the swans paddled around—either uninterested in Brida’s entrance, or filled with too many swan thoughts to rally any curiosity.
“Where are your brothers?” Brida repeated, speaking loudly and over enunciating.
Out of everyone to find Elise, why did it have to be Brida? Deciding the guard captain would eventually figure out that the swans were her brothers, or they would transform in front of the guard and then she could figure it out, Elise sat back down and went back to knitting.
However, Brida was not someone you could easily put off. The bossy female crouched down in front of Elise and put her hand on top of the shirt. “What are you—,” she yelped and drew her hand back when the plants pricked her palm. “Have you gone mad?” Brida asked, never one to sweeten her words.
Elise carefully moved the shirt away from Brida.