by Lynn Hardy
“How about a really old story called a ‘fairy tale’ about a prince and magic and frogs?” I bubble with childish enthusiasm as my troubles melt away in the presence of such beauty.
“Yeah!” is the fervent response from the awaiting audience. With no further ado, I begin one of my favorite songs.
“Do you remember in the fairy tale,
How the wicked witch’s spell
Changed the handsome prince to a toad?
By the power of her potion,
She handed him the notion,
That he’s lower than the dirt in the road.”
I stroll down the aisle between the tables, singing a verse to each group of kids.
“Though she left him green and warted,
Her evil plan was thwarted,
When there happened by a young miss,
Who, in spite of his complexion,
Offered her affection,
And broke the wicked curse with a kiss.”
Stopping at Andertz’s table, I can’t resist blowing a kiss in his direction.
“And that’s the secret to frog kissin’.
You can do it too if you’ll just listen.
Just slow down, turn around, bend down,
and kiss you a frog.”
By the first chorus, I am acting out the motions as I did for my nieces when they were this little.
The up-beat tempo has me tapping my foot. The studious facade the children wear cracks as excitement takes hold. Some of them hum the next chorus.
Several of the youngsters let out giggles as I come to a stop, spinning around, squatting down in pretense of kissing a “warted” companion.
“There’s a happy-ever-after land,
Deep in the heart of man,
Where a prince or princess abides.
But all we get are glimpses
Of these handsome prince or princess
‘Cause they’re covered by a green ‘n’ warty hide.
Though they got the full potential,
They’re lackin’ one essential,
To enable them to shine like a star.
And that’s to have some guy or misses,
Smother them with kisses,
And love them while they are still like they are.”
Last chorus…
“That’s the secret to frog kissin’.
You can do it too if you’ll just listen.
There’s a world of opportunity
under each and every log.
So if you’ve never been a charm breaker,
If you’ve never been a handsome prince maker,
Just slow down, turn around, bend down,
and kiss you a frog!”
At Andertz’s desk once again, I place my head on my hands, uttering, “Ribbet, ribbet.” The child leans forward, placing a kiss on my cheek.
Amid peals of laughter, I ask, “So what do you think of folk songs?”
“That was great!” a small child of about eight pipes up. “Can you sing us another?”
An older girl, the sole child with black hair in the entire class, shoots her a look that says she should remember her manners. Primly she raises her hand.
“Yes, what did you think of the song?”
“It was fun and it rhymed, which will probably make it easier to remember.” She sounds entirely too grown up for her small stature. “Do you know any about love and courting?” Well, the women here tend to be on the short side; she could be approaching her teens.
One of the boys raises his hand, waiving it about. “How ‘bout one with monsters?” What have I started… one with monsters and courting?
On the table, next to the dark-haired girl, lies a wooden cup and plate with a pair of leather gloves.
“Would it be okay if I borrowed these for an enchantment?”
Oohs and ahs breakout among the kids.
“Please do,” is her meticulous rejoinder. Chairs scrape the floor as kids move to get a better look.
They should benefit from a little exposure to the arts. I take the items to the front of the class. Feeling inspired by the last song, I use a new format.
“With words that rhyme I am doing fine.
Songs will improve with a guitar’s chime.
With these materials here for my use,
Only one thing needs your backing.
Talent I will no longer be lacking
Because I have magic as my muse.”
I smile at the playful rhyme more than the ecstatic wave of tingling as the wooden dishes meld together and the gloves mold around them. The entire bundle expands, and in a matter of moments, I hold an old-fashioned guitar case.
Gasps echo in the chamber. The children are smiling. I perceive no tension in the room. Removing the instrument from the case, I recall one of the true folksongs I know. Doc Watson made it popular in the 60’s, but it has been around for hundreds of years.
“All of you can help me with this song. After I sing the first verse and you catch on to the tune, sing the second verse with me.” With no further ado, grasping the newly made instrument in my hands, I begin another folk song, one that my dad played for me when I was a kid.
“Frog went a courtin’, and he did ride,
uh-huh.
Frog went a courtin’, and he did ride,
uh-huh, uh-huuh.
Frog went a courtin’, and he did ride,
sword and bo-ow by his side,
Uh-huh, uh-hhuh, uh-huuuhh.”
I replace the word pistol with bow when I fail to find a word for a gun in Cuthburish. A couple of the kids join in on the second verse.
“He rode right up to Molly Mouse’s den,
Uh-huh.
He rode right up to Molly Mouse’s den,
uh-huh, uh-huuh.
He rode right up to Molly Mouse’s den, said,
‘Molly Mouse, are you within?’
Uh-huh, uh-hhuh, uh-huuuhh.”
I pitch my voice really deep to imitate Mr. Frog on the last line. The youngsters break out in giggles. I stroll around the room, encouraging the rest of the kids to sing as well.
“He took Miss Mousy upon his knee,
Uh-huh.
He took Miss Mousy upon his knee,
Uh-huh, uh-huuh.
He took Miss Mousy upon his knee,
said, ‘Molly Mouse, won’t you marry me?’
Uh-huh, uh-hhuh, uh-huuuhh.”
“‘I don’t know what to say to that,’
Nah-uh.
‘I don’t know what to say to that,’
Nah-uh, na-uhh.
‘I don’t know what to say to that
until I speak to Uncle Rat.’
Nah-uh, nah-uuh, nah-uuhh.”
The children laugh at the first line. Most of them sing the second verse, imitating the high, squeaky tone.
Uncle Rat went to town,
Uh-huh
Uncle Rat went to town,
Uh-huh, uh-huuh.
Uncle Rat went to town
to buy his niece a weddin’ gown,
Uh-huh, uh-hhuh, uh-huuuhh.
Where will the weddin’ supper be?
Uh-huh.
Where will the weddin’ supper be?
Uh-huh, uh-huuh.
Where will the weddin’ supper be?
Way down yonder in the old oak tree,
Uh-huh, uh-hhuh, uh-huuuhh.
What will the weddin’ supper be?
Uh-huh.
What will the weddin’ supper be?
Uh-huh, uh-huuh.
What will the weddin’ supper be?
Two green beans and a black-eyed pea.
Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huuuhh.
Well, they all went sailin’ on the lake,
Uh-huh.
They all went sailin’ on the lake,
Uh-huh, uh-huuh.
They all went sailin’ on the lake,
and they all got swallowed by a big, black snake.
Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huuuhh.”
&nb
sp; I pitch my voice in my deepest tone. Gasps arise from the girls while the boys cheer.
Looking toward the doorway, I am abashed to see Andrayia has returned with her friend. Turning to hide a flush, I put the guitar in its case. On my way back to the door, I set the encased instrument on the ground, leaning it on the table next to the dark-haired girl from whom I borrowed the items. “Would you like me to change it back?”
“You mean, I can keep this… ?” She struggles for the proper word.
“Guitar…” I nod.
“I can really keep this beautiful, magical instrument?” She grins from ear to ear.
“It is yours to keep, but I’m afraid there’s nothing magical about it. I used magic to create it, but the instrument is merely a different type of lute. Perhaps your parents will let one of the court musicians teach you to play it.”
The girl trails her fingers across the case. “Yes, I will ask if I can learn to perform.”
I finish the journey to the door, where the grown-ups are waiting. Both of the women look at me as if I have sprouted wings. A lot of the hatred eases in Andrayia as we leave the students in the capable hands of their teacher.
“You’re good with children. Do you have any of your own?” Andrayia remarks as we hang a right into another hallway.
“No, I have not been so blessed.” Now that we are on a feminine topic, her whole attitude transforms. “How old is Andertz?”
“He will be six this summer. He’s small for a male of the royal line, but it’s not uncommon for boys to come into their height at a late age. Milady, is it true? Are you taking in the orphans from the attack two nights ago? You have seen to their education?”
“Yes, on both accounts.” Word sure gets around fast.
“Archmage Reba, as part of the bargain, may I request, in case of my untimely demise, that you see to it Andertz is likewise taken care of?” Andrayia petitions, even though I discern hesitation within her.
“I hope I need never fulfill that stipulation, but yes, I will make suitable arrangements for him if the worst should come to pass. Actually, Andertz is already showing signs of the healing gift; his future might be predetermined.” With her son taken care of, I feel the hesitation leave her.
The hallway ends in an opening beside the grand staircase. We continue in silence. Locating Jerik and Charles is relatively easy once we reach the practice grounds: they tower over the rest of the men by almost a foot. After introducing Andrayia and requesting she receive additional training sessions, I charge back to my chambers, knowing the midafternoon bells can’t be far off.
Chapter Eighteen
“William, Keth, I’ll be ready to leave for Princess Szeanne Rose’s apartments momentarily.” I rush past the boys and into my bedroom.
Not seeing Crystal, I go to the armoire. The portable closet is already full of clothes! I’ve been here what, three days? Not that I’m complaining.
Spotting a black pair of the straight-leg pants, I snag them from the wooden hanger while wiggling out of the scalded slacks. I have to remember to send a thank-you note to the tailor or, even better; commission outfits to be made for any women who show up… My train of thought is broken as the rear door to the bedroom opens.
“Milady, can I assist you?” Crystal sounds offended. “Are you looking for a different color perhaps?”
“I think I’ve found what I need. I’m afraid that I’ve already ruined one pair of pants Edward made. There was a slight magical mishap—” I pause in my explanation as tolling sounds in the distance. “And I am supposed to be at Rose’s by midafternoon bells. God, how I hate being late!”
“Milady, perhaps if it would be possible for you to let me know in advance of any… experimentation… we could prevent any further tardiness,” she admonishes.
My lips twist sardonically at the imposition of having to constantly report an itinerary. “Schedules were never my strong suit but I’ll try. I won’t be back until after the evening bells for dinner.”
I snatch my staff from beside the bed then hustle into the next room, where William and Keth wait to lead the way down the hall. William has enough forethought to set a fast pace. I soon discover Rose’s rooms aren’t too far from my own, merely down the hall and around the corner.
Noticing the princess is wearing a pants outfit similar to my own makes me smile. Glancing past her, I see the table has already been set. Lunch is waiting.
“Rose, I apologize for my tardiness.” I hesitate, unsure of what is proper in a case such as this.
“No apology is necessary.” Rose’s honest, caring attitude is a soothing balm after the double exposure to Alex’s duplicity. “I am sure your schedule is becoming quite full. If you are ready, so is our lunch.”
My stomach rumbles as she ushers me to the table. The presence of a solitary servant is unobtrusive. I help myself to some of everything, except the bleu cheese. I begin to relax, a quiet sigh escaping my lips.
“A long day?”
“And then some. It seems I solve one problem to discover five more demanding my personal attention. My biggest frustration, though, is a particular spell.” I pause, unsure whether her inquiry is merely polite small talk. “I’m trying to revise a portal spell.”
“What type of issues are you having?” Rose is genuinely interested. “Is there a way I can be of assistance?”
“I think the problem might be the focus I used.” Seeing her blank look, I explain. “I placed the main components of the enchantment in a boulder, which melted before the spell was completed. It could be that the spell was too complex, causing it to overheat.”
The sparkling, emerald necklace hanging around her neck absorbs my attention. “That’s it!” Rose looks puzzled. “Your necklace… A gem should allow for the intricacy the enchantment requires! I’m going to need a sizable stone. Which are the more common jewels?”
“Emeralds are quite common. I may have something you can use.” Placing her fork and knife aside, she goes to her vanity, returning with an emerald the size of a robin’s egg. The stone is set in a metal stand in the shape of a star. She hands the treasure to me. “Will this do for your spell?”
I nod in response to her query, reluctantly pushing the jewel back toward her. “In good conscience, I cannot accept this. The incantation I’m working to perfect isn’t a battle spell or even a defensive spell. It’s more of a personal work. With the results of my last effort, I can’t guarantee the gem will remain intact.”
“I insist. This stone reminds me of what I would rather forget. It is not precious to me. I will be glad to see it put to use.” Having said her piece, she places the precious gem next to me.
My lips curve with gratitude. “Any word from your father?”
“The war preparations have him thoroughly occupied. I am ashamed to admit it, but a part of me is sorry there are no more patients who need my help.” The bird no longer wants to reside in the gilded cage?
“You know, in my oration today, I called for the aid of anyone with skills or knowledge of healing. Your father approved of the idea. I know Jamison can use your help at the Healers’ Consortium.”
Sputtering, she chokes on the drink she was attempting to swallow. “You mean go out of the castle grounds without an escort?”
“I need to stop by on my way to the church. I’ll be happy to escort you as far as the consortium. Jamison can bring you back.” With a second thought, I ask, “Are there many dangers for a member of the royal family outside the castle grounds?”
“Our family is well loved, but even in times of peace, caution is advised to all who are close to the king.” Rose mulls over the idea.
“If the possibility of danger is all that’s stopping you, I can spell your clothes so they’ll be stronger than armor. There are also a few tricks that will aid you in defending yourself.”
“I will take you up on your offer of a spell.” With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she jumps up again, this time going to her armoire. Opening the bottom drawe
r and pushing aside the clothes, she brings out a slender short sword in a tooled scabbard. “But we can save the defense lessons for a more convenient time. I think this will do for now. I am out of practice, but if I look the part, it may deter any possible threat.”
I smile as we dig into our plates with renewed vigor. Even with my faster-than-normal pace of consumption, Rose is finished with her meal before me.
“Could you send my pages to ready the horses?” I ask.
By the time I clear my plate a second time, Rose has belted the sword around her waist. Hastily she finishes buttoning a robe. After I perform a revised version of the spell I used on Andrayia’s clothes, we hurry out the door.
Stretching out my long legs, I set a quick pace. I notice my short friend is nearly jogging to stay by my side. A slower walk would be more dignified. We arrive at the front steps of the castle as the horses are being led to the cobbled entryway. Unexpectedly, a third horse and rider accompany ours.
Lieutenant Craig bows. “Milady, Your Highness. I happened by the stables when your boys arrived. Thought you might use an escort if you’re venturin’ out,” he drawls.
I look to Rose. The princess shrugs. “An escort is welcome.”
We mount our steeds unassisted, the princess being an able horsewoman. I turn to our escort. “If you’ll lead the way, Lieutenant, we need to go to the Healers’ Consortium.”
With a nod, Craig prods his horse.
The princess and I don our hoods, hanging back a few feet for some privacy. After passing the castle gates, I ask Rose, “So are you going to tell me about the emerald? Or perhaps why a princess seems to be an able swordswoman? You seem to be a woman with as many facets as the emerald you wear.”
“The two stories are related, in an odd way.” Her eyes take on a faraway look. “When I was six years old, Szames began his arms training. He and I were inseparable. He took me everywhere with him, including the fencing lessons. I was fascinated by the swordplay. The maneuvering it requires reminded me of a dance.”
“Szames was tutored with Alex for the first few years. Alex had a two-year lead on him, and two years’ growth as well. Szames usually got a sound thrashing. Trying to compensate, he practiced for hours, using me as a sparring partner. We kept it very private, no one knew – it was a grand secrete. Everything went fine for the first year or so.”