Let Slip The Princesses of War

by David Schenck

  “Sure. Make yourself at home.”

  She pulled something out of one of the pockets of her gown, an acorn I think, and set it on the ground and gave it a light tap with one of her glass boots. Suddenly there was a light and smoke and sparkles and a swell of distant music and in place of the acorn was a giant tent, more of a pavilion really.

  “What the fuck, Cinderella!” Shouted Pea.

  Cinderella shrugged. “It’s a gift. My fairy godmother didn’t want me sleeping on the cold hard ground.”

  I looked at her hard. “Is there a bed in there?”

  “No. No, of course not! Just daybeds, more like couches really. They’re not very comfortable at all. I promise.”

  “How many ‘couches’ are in there?”

  “Well, there’s three of us, so three I’d imagine. Fairy Godmother is usually very thoughtful like that.”

  “What else ya got in there?” Asked Pea.

  “Oh, you know, just the usual. Magic table, bath, musicians, servants, armory, stables.”

  I looked at Pea, she was as stunned as I was. We’d been years in the field, sleeping on rocks, eating crappy food that we had to cook ourselves, bathing in streams and lakes (and not bathing more often). Servants!

  “What?” asked Cinderella sounding a little defensive. “I mean, everybody’s got something. Right? Rae, you’ve got that magic hair whip, and Sweet Pea’s got that, that, super-sensitive ass. The guys must go crazy for that.”

  Pea gave herself a gentle slap on the butt, and winced a bit. “EVERYBODY loves my ass!”

  “See what I mean?” Continued Cinderella. “Well, I’ve got a fairy godmother and, well, she likes to give me presents and stuff. What should I do? Say, thanks, but no thanks, as long as Sweet Pea and Rapunzel are sleeping in the dirt and eating the crap that Rae cooks up, I’ll suffer too? Hell, Ms. White and Shay and Lil’ are all sleeping in a fucking palace for the fucks sake!”

  Then she opened the tent (more of a pavilion, really) flap and we looked inside. Wow! I want a fairy godmother! There were crystal chandeliers, and a table groaning with food, three daybeds (more like beds than couches), a screened-off part that I assumed hid the bathing area and an armory loaded with weapons. The soft strains of music floated in the air.

  “Where’s the servants?” Pea asked.

  “Here!” Cinderella replied, with a bit of a flourish. I think she was really beginning to enjoy showing off. She reached under her gown and pulled out three small mice (I guess they live in there? It seems kind of weird, but who am I to judge?). She placed the mice on the ground and instantly they grew into three human servants.

  “Well, fuck me sideways!” said Pea, and I had to nod in agreement.

  “Shall we, ladies?” Cinderella asked, holding the tent (more like a pavilion) flap open with one hand and waving us in with her other hand.

  I looked at Pea and she shrugged at me and I shrugged back at her and we walked in. Ben tried to follow us, but Cinderella blocked his way. “Sorry Rae, but your dog stays outside. He can sleep in the stables out back with the horses if he wants.”

  “Sorry boy. I’ll bring you a doggy bag later.”

  The food was delicious and the service impeccable, the couches (more like beds) were incredibly comfortable (although Pea squirmed like she couldn’t quite find the right spot) and the screened off area hid a full bath complete with a sunken tub (more like a pool, really).

  After dinner, we grabbed a bottle of wine (for Cinderella and me) and all climbed into the tub for a nice soak. I felt like kinks in my back, that had been there for years, were melting away.

  “Well, this has been nice. I’ll take the first watch. Who wants second shift?” It was going to be nice having an extra watch person.

  Pea volunteered for second shift. Second shift is hardest, since you don’t get any solid sleep time.

  “OK, I’ll wake you in a couple of hours. Then you can wake Cindy a couple of hours after.”

  I could see that Cinderella didn’t really like the idea of taking a turn at watch, but she bit her lip.

  I grabbed a big piece of meat off the still full table and headed outside. There was a chair outside the tent (more like, well, you know by now), that I swear hadn’t been there before, so I sat down to watch. I handed Ben the meat and he lay down next to me chewing with obvious enjoyment.

  “Ingrate!” I said to Ben. He looked at me in confusion. I swear, sometimes, it seems like he understands every word. “You won’t eat the food I cook for you, but you’ll scarf down Cindy’s magic meat!”

  Ben gave me the doggy equivalent of a shrug, as if to say, “If you cooked like the magic table…” and went back to chewing his meal. “I guess you have a point.” I told him and I let my hand dangle until I could stroke the fur on his back.

  When Ben finished his meal, we took a stroll (you could call it a patrol) around the perimeter. We talked, well I talked, about things. Things that were difficult to talk to Pea about. Ben was a good listener. Pea was a good listener too. Neither was much of a talker, but Ben was sober more often.

  To be honest, I don’t think talking is all that useful. But now that I had a listener, who wouldn’t judge me, who wouldn’t interrupt, who would keep his thoughts to himself, I couldn’t help myself.

  I told him all about my past. My time in the tower with the witch. How I didn’t know any better, so I thought she loved me. How I thought her control, my imprisonment, was protection, for my own good. How my prince heard me singing while he rode in the forest and came one night to my window. How I let down my hair for him, the only person ever, except for the witch. How I learned that what I had thought was love was something else. Something dark and hateful and exploitive.

  Ben was more than a good listener. He walked alongside me. He nuzzled my hand at just the right moments, almost as if he understood. Sure he nuzzled my hand at other moments too. He was a big hand nuzzler. Still, you read it your way and I’ll read it mine.

  I told him about my escape. About the death of the witch (supposedly), and my mixed feelings. Sure she was an evil old witch who keep me locked in a tower and away from all human contact, for her own evil purposes, but she was also the woman I had thought of as my mother, who’d cared for me, in her own way, for years.

  I talk to Ben about the wedding. How alone and lost I’d felt surrounded by so many people, after my whole life thinking that the witch and I were the only humans in the world. Finally, I told him about my twins, a boy and a girl. How they’d been born, so tiny and bright. How my whole life came into focus at the moment of their birth. How I’d wanted nothing more than to hold them and love them and protect them.

  And I told Ben how I’d failed. How Mallory had lured my husband, now king, to his death with the others. How her troops had marched on my kingdom. How we (me) had been too weak to hold them off. How I’d been too stupid to run while there was still time. And finally, finally, how we’d fled too late. How my darlings had died cut down by arrows from Mallory’s troops. How I’d left them, lifeless, but still bleeding, unburied, in the dirt and run. Saved myself.

  And the tears, which I’d held back in the palace, came now. In the field. With a dog. Ben put his face against my face and gently licked my tears.

  When Pea came out for her watch I was, of course, completely composed.

  “Sleep alright?” I asked her.

  “Nah. Couldn’t get comfortable on the bed. I finally had to move to the floor. Plus Cinderella snores like a bull.”

  “Well, I’m going to give the bed a try. See you in the morning.”

  “Night.”

  I opened the tent (Pa-fucking-vilion, Pavilion!) flap and we went inside. Cinderella stirred a little as we entered. “No dogs.” She said in her sleep. But I just ignored her. I lay down on one of the beds. I’m not going to call it a couch or a day-bed just to help Cinderella feel less guilty. Ben tried to jump up, but I pushed him down and pointed to the floor. He lay down, whimpering softly.

  Cin
derella was moving on her couch. She’d taken off her ball gown and had changed into a night gown. I imagine she had a full wardrobe in there. Ben was still whimpering and I didn’t want him to wake Cindy, so I curled up on my side to make space for Ben at the foot of the bed. He jumped up happily and curled up by my feet.

  CHAPTER 6

  Cinderella woke us before sunup (I think she was getting lonely on watch). Ben had moved up to sleep behind me. I didn’t mind, the bed was plenty wide and his warm body felt nice against my back.

  “I told you no dogs.” She pouted.

  “He’s fully house broken.” I pointed out.

  “He’ll get hair everywhere!”

  “It’s not like you’re doing the housekeeping. I can’t understand how you can travel around with mice under your gown, but have a problem with my dog!”

  She considered it for a moment. I could see her wilting under the crushing grip of my logic.

  She nodded. “Well, OK then.”

  We ate magic table food, packed up camp and started on the road.

  After about an hour Cinderella came up alongside me. “They’re magic mice, you know. Not just ordinary mice.”

  “I know.”

  “And there’s something odd about that dog of yours.”

  I held back a comment about the ‘normal’ magic mice that lived in her gown, “Odd how?”

  “Well, he never lets you out of his sight. He’s always watching your ass.”

  I shrugged. “I’m his master. All good dogs always watch their masters.”

  “No. I mean he’s always watching your ASS! The thing you sit on. You bend down and his eyes are fixed. He doesn’t do it with Pea or me.”

  “I can’t even see your ass. I don’t know if you even have an ass under there.”

  “Oh, I have an ass and it’s damn fine too!”

  “Not as fine as mine!” Shouted Sweet Pea from behind us.

  And, well, we talked asses for most of the morning.

  That may have been our last truly carefree time. When we stopped to eat a quick lunch, a few hours later, the mood was decidedly darker. We were getting ever closer to the forest and we could all feel it. It showed in the countryside too. The farms were shabbier, the fields less well tended. The people we met on the road were wary and didn’t stop to talk. Anyone who could afford it had moved on long ago.

  By the next day, we had entered a landscape that was completely bare of human life. All the farms and villages were abandoned.

  Even the food from the magic table couldn’t cheer us up, even the warmth from the sunken bath (more like a pool) couldn’t chase away the chill we all felt. I mean, we ate the food and drank the wine and soaked in the tub, we’re not idiots. Only it was less enjoyable than before. The only thing that cheered us up was when Pea found Cindy’s giant makeup box and we had a good old time making fun of her. Well, it cheered me and Pea up.

  So, we were all more than a little surprised, when on our fourth day on the road, just at the edge of the Great Forest, we came on a charming little farm with a neat little farm house and a group of girls working in the field.

  I pulled my horse to a stop and Pea and Cinderella stopped beside me.

  “Something is very weird about that.” Said Pea.

  Cinderella nodded.

  “So, should we stop and talk to them or just keep moving?” I asked.

  “Too late now.” Said Sweet Pea, loosening her guns and motioning with her head at the group of girls who were approaching.

  Cinderella checked her sword in its scabbard.

  “They’re just girls. Keep the weapons down.” I said.

  Ignoring me, Sweet Pea turned to Cinderella. “There’s just 8 of them. You watch the ones on the left and I’ll watch the right.” Cindy nodded.

  The girls stopped on the road a few feet in front of us and the oldest opened her mouth to speak when the littlest, maybe 5 or 6, ran in front “Hi! I’m Emily! Where are you from? It’s been so long since we’ve had visitors. I used to have lots of friends, but they all moved away. Do you know how to play jacks? I have a set, but nobody wants to play with me. Are you going into the forest? Ma says we can’t go into the forest ‘cause it’s too dangerous, but my brothers go in all the time and nothing ever happens to them. Can I pet your horse? We used to have a horse, but he got too old to pull the plow, and we had to sell him. Oooh! Your gown is really pretty. Did you make it yourself? We make all our own clothes. I hate sewing!”

  “Emily! Enough!” Shouted the oldest girl. “I’m sure they don’t need to hear everything about you right this moment. Out here on the road.” Then she turned back to face us. “Sorry, Emily is just excited to see new people. We all are, actually. I’m Andrea and these are my sisters. Ma would skin us alive if we let you pass without offering you something to eat. Supper is almost ready. Ma always makes it about this time. I know we’d all sure like to hear news of the world. It’s been so lonely out here now that all the others have moved away.”

  I looked at Pea and Cinderella. They both shrugged. I shrugged back. “Ok. We’d love to join you for supper.” I mean, it was just eight girls and their mom and brothers. There was something weird, but if we can’t handle this, we sure as hell can’t handle Mallory in the heart of her territory. And it would be good to get some information about what we would face in the forest.

  Andrea clapped her hands and smiled. “Elsa, run ahead and tell Ma that we’ll have three guests!” She almost squealed in excitement. One of the girls ran off. Emily ran forward to pet Pea’s horse and Pea caught her up in her arms and put her in the saddle and they rode together towards the farm house.

  Up close the house was just as charming as from the road. Freshly painted with white lace-trimmed curtains in the windows. It looked like the perfect kind of house to raise a family. Elsa and a woman came out to greet us. The woman looked just like a prosperous farm wife should look. A neat little apron over her black dress and a bit of flour dust on her hands and sleeves.

  “Welcome ladies! I’m Annette. I see you’ve already meet my daughters. Please come in and make yourselves comfortable. Supper’ll be ready in 15 minutes.” She waved us inside.

  “Is there any place we can wash up a little before supper?” Asked Cinderella. She was always better about those kinds of things than Pea or I.

  “There’s a pump out back. Esmeralda, show our guests the pump and, Angel, you get them some clean towels.”

  One of the girls led us out back to the pump and we took turns pumping water and washing our hands and faces. And another of the girls brought us some clean rough towels and soon we were looking and feeling more civilized.

  The table was set with plates and glasses and as soon as we sat down a stream of girls entered, carrying bowls of steaming food. Everything looked good. It was plain farm food. Not fancy palace or magic table food, but a hell of a lot better than the stuff Pea and I ate on a regular basis. Ben lay quietly by my feet and I slipped him scraps and he licked my fingers clean.

  For a long while there wasn’t much talking. Riding and farm work are both hungry occupations and we all ate our fill.

  “Can we help wash up?” Asked Sweet Pea, to Cinderella’s horror.

  “Nah. You just sit and digest your meal. I didn’t have seven daughters for nothing.”

  “Eight mama.” Said little Emily. “Don’t forget about me!”

  Annette laughed. “Oh, right. Eight! I would never forget about you, my darling baby girl!” She gave us a tired smile. “It can be hard to keep track of so many children.”

  A girl came round with some kind of sparkling cider and filled our cups.

  “Now.” Began the mother, Annette. “What are three princesses doing way out here? Oh, don’t look so surprised. It’s not like you’re doing much to hide it. Hell, she’s wearing a ball gown and those are some pretty fancy horses you’re riding. You’re Princess Company or I’m a gelding!”

  Cinderella answered her with a question. “What I’d like to
know is what you and your daughters are doing out here. Everyone else has left. We rode through two days of empty farms, only to find you snuggled right up against the forest.”

  The woman laughed. “A suspicious one, ain’t ya. Well, I can’t see that it matters anymore so I’ll tell you. Life hasn’t always been easy with my big family. Finding food to feed ‘um all was always a tricky business. We don’t have much money, what with my husband dead and buried these past five years. We lived inside the forest, where nobody else much cared to live, ate what we could find or catch. Until it became too dangerous. But, as luck would have it, when the forest was too dangerous for us, the area outside the forest was too dangerous for everybody else. Maybe we’ve always been a little bit braver than other people, or maybe just a little more desperate. Anyway, we found this nice little farm abandoned and made it our new home. It may not belong to us in the strict sense, but we keep it up, we work the fields, we care for the animals. We aren’t taking anything anybody else wants.”

  Cinderella nodded her agreement. “As far as we’re concerned you can keep it.” Little Emily had crawled up on Cinderella’s lap (a bit of a challenge with her ball gown) and Cinderella held her, looking surprisingly maternal. It gave me a little pang and I thought Pea looked a little jealous.

  “Well, that’s very kind of you, seeing how it’s not any more of yours to give than it is ours. Anyway, you’ve heard our story. Now, what’s yours? There ain’t anything out here but the forest, so I suppose that’s where you’re headed.”

  “Yes.” I broke in just to make sure nobody said anything too revealing. Not that it probably mattered. What were they going to do? Run off to tell Mallory? “We’re going into the forest tomorrow. We would appreciate any advice you can give us. What can we expect to find?”

  Annette broke into a smile. “I can do better than that. My boys hunt in the forest. They practically live there still. Ain’t nobody knows the forest better than my boys, at least this part of it. They’ll be back in the morning. You stay the night, we’ve got plenty of room, and tomorrow my boys will take you into the forest and show you the way.”