by Moore, John
Alison picked up the crossbow. The quarrel had fallen out. She inserted it again, but by then Roland and the sorcerer were rolling around on the ground, hands at each other’s throats, too close to each other and moving too fast for her to take aim. The fight didn’t last long. It was all over in a matter of seconds. A roaring noise behind Alison broke it up.
Out of the cave charged the ugliest animal Alison had ever seen. It had a body that roughly resembled a lion, but far bigger than any lion had the right to be. All four feet had claws as long as her forearm, and the head had a monstrous beak that looked like it could bite through a hitching post. The wings, even folded, seemed to fill up the tunnel. The whole thing was covered in spines tufted with coarse black down, like the pinfeathers of a vulture with a severe vitamin deficiency, except for a patch of red feathers on the chest. It rushed right at them.
She got off a snap shot with the crossbow and missed, the quarrel passing harmlessly through the feathers. It ignored the attack and simply ran over her. Roland was on his feet by then, trying to pull the longsword out of the scabbard. The beast knocked him down with a blow from its paw. From the stone floor, Alison watched the Middle-Aged Man of the Mountains climb onto the gryphon’s back. In a daze she saw them gallop away.
Roland got up first. He put out a hand and lifted Alison to her feet. “Are you all right?”
“Just a little stunned.” For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her again, but he looked at the floor and seemed to think better of it. Instead, he bent down and picked up the longsword. Alison picked up the crossbow. Both of them kept their eyes away from the cave. Only silence came from within.
“I guess,” said Roland quietly, “I’d better go in and retrieve the bodies. If there’s anything left to retrieve.” He found he couldn’t meet Alison’s eyes, so he looked from the cave to the floor and back again.
Alison was doing the same thing. “I’ll go upstairs and see if I can find a lantern for you.”
Roland nodded. “Maybe bring down some blankets, to cover them. I’d go with you but—I don’t know—I feel like I shouldn’t leave them.”
“I’ll take some off the beds.” Alison’s eyes welled up with tears, and indeed the situation would have turned into a genuine schmaltzfest had not Terry chosen that moment to walk out of the cave unharmed. The Princess Gloria was leaning on his arm.
Roland and Alison stared at her.
“What?” said Gloria. She looked down at herself, then put a hand to her hair. “What?”
“You weren’t eaten,” said Roland.
“No. I guess it wasn’t hungry.”
Terry looked around. “Where did it go?”
Roland pointed toward the cavern opening. “It just ran off. The sorcerer was on its back. We couldn’t stop him.”
“He said it couldn’t fly,” said Gloria.
“Well, it sure can run fast.”
“No matter,” said Terry. “The king’s troops will track him down soon enough.” He put his arm around Gloria’s shoulders. “The important thing is that Gloria—um—the Princess Gloria, is safe.”
Alison was looking at Gloria speculatively. “Yes. So why didn’t the gryphon eat you?”
“I told you,” Gloria said defensively. “It wasn’t hungry.” >
“Oh yes. That’s right.”
“Well it wasn’t!”
Alison looked at Roland, and so did Terry. The knight gave Roland a threatening stare. “Now see here,” he said. “I am a knight and a soldier in the Royal Guard. It is my sworn duty to defend the princess, both her life and her honor. Is that clear?”
“Why are you looking at me?” said Roland. “I didn’t say a word.”
“Yes, but it’s the way you’re not saying it that I don’t like.”
“I’m sorry,” broke in Alison, soothingly. “It’s my fault. I didn’t mean to cast aspersions. Might I suggest we all get out of this dungeon, or whatever this is, and go upstairs for a cup of tea?”
Roland looked as if he was about to say something, but he held himself in check until they reached the living room. As soon as he came through the hole in the wall, he said, “Princess Gloria, permit me to introduce myself. I am Roland Westfield, your fiancé.”
Gloria was facing the fireplace, still clutching Terry’s arm. She blinked twice before turning around and extending her hand to Roland. “Mr. Westfield. How kind of you to come.”
Roland took her hand and bowed over it. “I’m sorry we could not arrive sooner.”
“We have much to discuss.” Gloria gave him the kind of smile that women use in public places, where the lips are curled up but the eyes send the message that trouble is coming. Roland saw it and didn’t know what it meant. Alison didn’t know either, but she jumped in.
“I’m so glad to see that you are unharmed, Princess Gloria.”
“Thank you, Alison. And how is your father?”
“Baron Wayless is fine, thank you.”
“What?” said Terry and Roland together, and if they had been performing as a comedy duo, their double takes could not have been synchronized more perfectly.
“Umm,” said Alison. “I mean he’s still sick, of course, and he took a blow to the head, but other than that he . . .”
“Who are you?” said Roland.
Gloria looked mystified. “I’m sorry. Were you waiting to be introduced? Alison, this is Roland Westfield. Mr. Westfield, this is the honorable Alison Wayless, daughter of Baron Wayless.”
“Baron Wayless is your father?”
“Why, yes,” said Alison. “Didn’t I tell you that? I’m sure I must have mentioned it.”
“You said you were a cook,” said Terry.
“I am a cook.”
“I thought you were . . .”
“Wasn’t your father involved in the kidnapping?” interrupted Roland.
“Oh no,” said Gloria. “It was Count Bussard all along. Look! My needlepoint.” She ran to the fireplace, where implements and bits of lace were still spread out, and picked up her bag. “I’m so glad I didn’t lose this.”
“It’s very pretty,” said Roland.
“Sir Terry,” said Gloria, turning to the knight. “Might I have a word with you in private?” Her voice made Alison think of candy, in the sense that the words managed to be sweet while also hard and brittle.
“Uh, sure,” said Terry.
“I’ll go into the kitchen and look for tea things,” said Alison hastily.
“I’ll help you,” said Roland, who could sense an argument coming as well as the next man. They both gave Terry a sympathetic look and eased out as quickly as they could do so without appearing to flee.
Gloria waited until they left, closed the door behind them, and made sure it shut firmly. Then she turned on Terry. “Terry, what is he doing here! What is he doing here!”
Terry had seen this coming, but his mouth didn’t get out the words he wanted to say. “It was unavoidable. I couldn’t leave him behind.”
“Couldn’t leave him behind!” Gloria’s voice rose. “Terry, did you forget that the whole point of this exercise was to cut him out of the picture? What on earth possessed you to bring him along?”
“Keep your voice down,” Terry hissed. “I didn’t bring him along. He decided to set out on his own. It was just plain, damn, dumb luck that he chose the right direction. I had to join him to keep track of him so I could make sure I got to you first. Everything would have been fine if you hadn’t been kidnapped for real.”
“All right.” Gloria took a deep breath. “All right, I’m sorry I yelled at you.” She sat on the couch and patted the seat next to her. Terry sat down. Gloria rewarded him with a long and heartfelt kiss, then said, “We need a plan. Fill me in on what happened.”
Terry gave her a compressed description of his partnership with Roland, the assault on the Baron’s manor, the discovery of Alison, the infiltration of the Count’s castle, and the assault on the sorcerer’s mountain hideout. He resisted the temp
tation to exaggerate his feats, but ordinary human nature did cause him to downplay the roles of Roland and Alison. Gloria was suitably impressed. She was disappointed that he didn’t find the trail of lace she dropped for him, but gratified that Terry had made use of the rope she wove. She was especially interested in Terry’s explanation for her kidnapping.
“The way I see it,” he told her, “is that Bussard didn’t intend to grab you at all. He actually wanted to kidnap Alison.”
“He said as much to me. But why?”
“He wanted their land. My guess is that Alison is the sole heir. Bussard was the magistrate for Bornewald. With the Baron dead, he could appoint himself, or one of his cronies, to be her guardian and control the land until she came of age. By that time he’d have figured out a way to transfer the land to himself.”
“Could he really get away with that?”
“Oh sure. You know how it is when you’re a knight. One of my duties is to ride around the country upholding justice and defending the downtrodden. And let me tell you, it doesn’t take long before you’ve seen every dirty trick in the book.” Terry leaned back and stretched out his legs. “Bussard was waiting for Wayless to die, but he must have been afraid that Alison would get married and then she’d be out of his reach. He probably decided he couldn’t wait any longer. He wanted to take her into custody before the Baron kicked the bucket.”
Gloria turned on her back and rested her head in Terry’s lap. “I’m not sorry that Bussard is dead.”
“Neither am I. I’d like to know where the Middle-Aged Man of the Mountains went.”
“Not to worry. He’ll be caught, or he’ll flee the country. He’s probably fleeing the country right now. Mm-mmm.” She closed her eyes as Terry stroked her hair, then opened them again. “Our immediate concern is what you and I are going to do.”
“It’s just that I have this feeling.” Terry looked around the room, the scattered books, the reclining armchair, the fireplace. There was something tugging at his brain, but it wouldn’t show itself. Something he was forgetting.
“What?”
“I don’t know. Something is wrong, but I can’t think of it.”
“Then think of something else, and it will come up. That always works for me. Think about us.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“We’ll have to elope,” said Gloria, sadly. “I was hoping to avoid it, but we always knew it might be our last resort.”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I know you wanted the big wedding.”
“Oh, that’s not so important. But we’ll be cut out of society. We’ll have to bury ourselves in the country and stay out of sight for a few years. No more invitations for us. Mother will be so mad, and of course, no hostess will dare cross her. Nor the Westfields, either. They’ll be very upset.”
“I don’t know about the Westfields. They might be more accepting. Roland seems pretty happy with Alison. Maybe he doesn’t know it, but he’s in love with her.”
“Really?”
“I’m sure of it. Before we came up here, they were arguing in a restaurant.”
Gloria sat up suddenly. She arranged herself by Terry’s side and looked at him thoughtfully. “Did they talk to each other? Without arguing, I mean?”
“Um, yes, at the inn and places.”
“Other people saw them?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Were they ever alone together?”
“If they were together, they weren’t alone.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I suppose. I wasn’t with them all the time.”
Gloria’s brow wrinkled. “I wonder if we could get some sort of breach-of-promise thing going. Even if it is only a rumor, it could be enough to cause a scandal. Mother would break off the engagement . . .”
“Cancel that idea!” Terry’s voice was stern. “Roland Westfield is an honorable guy. He thought you were in danger, and he came here to try to rescue you. We are not going to smear his reputation.”
Gloria looked contrite. She threw her arms around Terry. “You’re right. You’re right, sweetie. I was just thinking about us.”
“I understand. In fact, I’m going to talk to Roland right now.” Terry set Gloria aside and stood up. “Gloria, I’m going to tell him right out. I’ve had enough of these plots and subterfuges. I’ll tell him that we decided to get married, and that’s all there is to it. It’s what I should have done right from the start.”
“Oh, Terry! I’ll find a way to make it up to you. I know this will dishonor you as a knight. I only wish girls had a choice in these matters. Then we could break our own engagements.”
“That would certainly make courtship easier.”
“I hope Roland will be civilized. It’s quite a loss for him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Really, Terry. I know Alison is very sweet, and rather pretty, in a simple country-girl sort of way, but—look at her. You have to admit she’s a bit on the skinny side.”
“Um, right. Right.” There were not many acceptable responses that a man could make to a statement like that, but Terry thought quickly and came up with one of them. “But remember, Roland hadn’t seen you before he met Alison. And even now, he hasn’t seen you at your best.”
“Oh my God!” Gloria jumped up and frantically cast her eyes about, looking for a mirror. “I’m a mess. Where’s a hairbrush? Oh Terry, look at me.”
With her tousled hair, smeared lipstick, and torn clothing, Terry actually thought she looked pretty hot, in a down-and-dirty bad girl sort of way. He also knew that this wasn’t the time to say so. “You look fine. Really. I’ll go talk to Roland.”
He left her searching for a washroom and made his way to the kitchen. Roland and Alison were both bending over the stove, their heads close together, trying to light some kindling and talking in low voices. They both straightened up when he came in, looking a little guilty. Alison said, “I guess she was pretty angry.”
“We could hear her from in here,” said Roland. “We couldn’t make out the words, but she sounded upset.”
“But she’ll get over it,” Alison said encouragingly. “She’s had a rough time, but it wasn’t your fault. She probably doesn’t realize the risks that you took for her. A cup of tea and a nap, and she’ll feel a lot better. Roland and I will make sure the king knows the whole story. We’ll tell him that you rescued her as soon as you could.”
“Um, thank you,” said Terry, who didn’t follow this.
“The Princess Gloria is a tremendously fine girl,” said Roland. “I don’t know much about her myself, but everyone kept telling me what a great person she is. My family just raved about her.”
“She came to visit my father, and she was very nice. Very warm and personable.”
“I don’t disagree,” said Terry. “Is there a point to this?”
Roland looked at Alison. She nervously shifted the teakettle on the stove and fiddled with the damper. Eventually she met his eyes with a “go ahead” look. He transferred his gaze to Terry. “See, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, and even though the Princess Gloria has many fine qualities, I’m not sure that she’s really the right girl for me. Don’t get me wrong. I’m sure she would be a wonderful partner for the right man. It’s just that I don’t feel that I’m ready to get married yet.” He looked back at Alison, who nodded to him encouragingly. “This past few days, what with the travel and adventures and all, I’ve learned a lot about myself, and I think I need to take some time to sort it out.”
“I see,” said Terry. “Roland, it sounds to me more like you have your heart set on someone else.”
“No!” said Roland and Alison together, and Roland added, “That isn’t the case at all.”
“I thought perhaps you and Alison . . .”
“No, it’s not like that. Alison has nothing to do with this decision.”
“No,” said Alison.
“I don’t want to leave anyone with the impression that Alison
goes around breaking up other people’s engagements. Of course she doesn’t. This is purely my own idea.”
“It is.”
“I have no interest in marrying Alison instead of Gloria.”
“He doesn’t.”
“Not right away, at least.”
“We have to get to know each other first,” said Alison.
“Although,” Roland continued, “her noble birth would certainly help smooth things over with my family, if it came to that.”
“I understand,” said Terry. “And I suspect there is a solution to your problem. In fact, I was thinking . . .”
“You could marry Gloria,” interrupted Roland.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Marry the princess.” Roland held up his hands. “No wait, Terry. Don’t say anything until you hear me out. You probably haven’t considered this, but the man who rescues a princess from mortal danger earns the right to her hand in marriage. If you take sole credit for the rescue, you can demand that she marry you.”
“Marry the Princess Gloria?” said Terry. “Me?” He gave Roland and Alison a skeptical look. “That sounds pretty far-fetched.”
“Roland is right,” said Alison. “This tradition about rescuing and marrying a princess, it isn’t just a tradition in Medulla. It’s more like common law. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but Gloria didn’t really want to marry Roland. She had another boy in mind that she was hoping would rescue her first, just so she could marry him instead.”
“Really?” said Terry. “Who?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t tell me his name. It doesn’t matter, because he’s out of the picture now. If you’re the rescuer, she has to marry you.”
“If I’m the rescuer?”
The slightly sarcastic intonation was lost on Roland. “Sure, Terry. Think about it. When you were fighting the thugs at the Baron’s manor, I was upstairs with Alison. If the princess saw anyone, she only saw you. She doesn’t know you were just there to assist me. At the Count’s castle, she might have seen you from that balcony, but she had no way of knowing that I was already inside by that time.”