Let Slip The Princesses of War

by David Schenck

  I sat down at the magic table and waved a sausage in his direction. He accepted the peace offering with a fierceness that would’ve left me missing a few fingers if I hadn’t been quick.

  As I ate, I watched Cindy and Emily. The kid had talent. Some people think that Cinderella isn’t much of a swordswoman, that she hides mediocre skills behind that flaming sword, but fire is her thing. Cinder – rella. She’s named for the fucking thing that’s left after a fire. But, as I watched her practicing with Emily, I could see the true skill and grace she brought to the weapon. She was an artist.

  Emily, wasn’t bad either. I mean for a 6 year old on her third day of training.

  After eating, Ben and I wandered over to the armory, where Pea was busy rummaging through the selection of pistols.

  “Whatcha doin’?” I drawled.

  “Lookin’ fer sumthin’.” She drawled back, without looking up.

  “Tell me and maybe I can help.”

  “I can do it by myself.”

  “I’m bored, you have to entertain me until Cindy and Emily are done training and we can move on.”

  She scowled, held up a revolver, muttered “No good.”, and tossed it away.

  I watched her pick up and discard 10 or 12 pistols before she finally appeared to settle on one.

  “Seems kind of small. You looking for a boot gun? Don’t you already have a boot gun?”

  She opened the cylinder, spun it casually, closed it, sighted and pulled the trigger.

  BAM!

  What the fuck! There were no bullets in the gun!

  Cinderella and Emily came running. “Bad Pea! Bad! No shooting in the tent!”

  I followed the trajectory and found a hole in the tent, right by the front entrance. “How come the bullet made a hole in the tent? I thought the tent was invulnerable.”

  Cinderella looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, I’ve never fired a gun INSIDE before, but it only makes sense that the tent would let the bullet out. Otherwise, firing a gun INSIDE an invulnerable tent would be dangerous.”

  Pea looked chagrined for a moment, then said, “Hey, there weren’t no bullets in the fucking gun! I checked!”

  “Language! And, it’s a magic gun, they all are. No bullets needed. Fairy Godmother doesn’t let the detail slide.”

  Pea looked confused. “Then why even have a cylinder and action and all?”

  Now Cinderella looked confused too. “Well, for verisimilitude, I guess.”

  “Anyhow,” Pea said, handing the gun to Emily, “I found a gun you should be able to handle. I figure, if you want to join the Company, you’d better learn to fight with more than just a sword.”

  Emily jumped with excitement, waving the gun over her head. “Wow! That’s great! When can I have a lesson? Can you show me how to shoot today?”

  Pea reached out and gently took the gun from her hand. “I think we can find some time to teach you. But I’m just going to hold on to the gun for a while, seeing as how not loading it isn’t an available safety feature.” Then she added, more or less, under her breath, “Fairy Godmother doesn’t let the details slide.”

  Cinderella ruffled Emily’s hair, “Ok, that’s enough training for the morning. Let’s grab a bath and some breakfast and we can get on our way.”

  I wanted to say something to Pea, how she didn’t need to compete for Emily’s affection, how maybe getting too attached wasn’t such a good idea anyway, how any little girl would prefer a gun to a sword, but I just helped her put the pile of guns back in the armory (carefully) and kept my mouth shut.

  Once Cindy and Emily were bathed and feed, we were ready to move on. Cinderella was holding the carpet in one hand and reaching for the bolt-hole hatch when, suddenly, the hatch faded away.

  “What the hell?” Asked Cinderella. “That’s never happened before!”

  Then there was a knock from the front of the tent, like someone knocking to be let in.

  “Maybe the monsters are learning some manners.” Suggested Pea.

  Cindy dropped the carpet back down. “Let’s take a look.”

  Cindy turned the tent transparent. There was an old man standing at the entrance. Just waiting. No monsters. Just an old man. There’d been a horde of monsters just a few minutes ago. We’d checked. The bolt-hole is on some kind of automatic system and it only shows up when there’s danger outside, so if there are no monsters, we have to do something to attract them before the bolt-hole will appear.

  He saw us and waved.

  Emily waved back.

  Cinderella turned the tent back opaque.

  “Should we answer it?” I asked.

  “Sure,” Said Cinderella. “He’s not dangerous.”

  “Is he a friend of yours? How do you know he’s not dangerous? Here in the middle of the Great Forest. Full of monsters.” Pea seemed rightly suspicious that anyone not dangerous would be outside.

  “It’s simple. The bolt-hole hatch disappeared, the hatch appears whenever there is danger outside, ergo there is no danger outside. Q.E.D.”

  I looked at her hard. “Do you really want to stake your life, all of our lives, not to mention our mission on the existence or nonexistence of the bolt-hole?”

  Cindy shrugged. “I stake my life on my fairy godmother’s magic all the time. Hasn’t failed me yet! Anyway, no monsters, no bolt-hole, no progress. So, unless you just want to shoot him through the tent, which thanks to Pea, I now know is an option, I say we see what he wants. He looks friendly. See.”

  The tent turned transparent again and there he was still waving. He DID look friendly.

  “Alright,” I said at last, “I’ll go out and talk to him. You three stay here and if he kills me, maybe that will convince the bolt-hole that all is not well.”

  I went to the tent flap. Ben was at my heels. “You stay here too. I’ll be right back. Probably.”

  But he followed me out anyway. “Oye, what ya knocking at our tent for?”

  The old man smiled at me. He was tall, and thin, and wearing a robe that may once have been white, but was now dirty grey and mostly patches, with tears between the patches. He had a long grey beard and long grey hair and he looked like he did NOT have a magic bath tub. Or even a regular bath tub.

  He smiled at me for a long time, “Tom. Erm, I’m Tom. Visitors, no erm visitors. Uh. Um.” He slapped himself in the face, hard enough to make his eyes wobble. But it seemed to help. He smiled again “Hello, I’m Tom, yes, Tom I am. I haven’t had any visitors in a very long time. A very long time. I was, erm, wondering, I mean if you aren’t too busy. Well, uh, I don’t suppose you ladies would care to join me for some tea? I’ve gathered water-lilies.”

  Tea? He wanted to invite us for some tea? In the middle of a monster infected forest? “You’d probably get more visitors if you didn’t live in the middle of a monster infested forest, Tom.”

  “Monsters?” He looked around confused. “There are no monsters. You don’t mean the bears? They won’t hurt you. Just tell them you’re friends with old Tom and they’ll leave you alone. We go back a long time. I remember them, back before they were even bears. Back when they were Dormaalocyon latouri, cute little fellows, hardly this big,” He held his hands a little ways apart to indicate the size, “they certainly have grown. But my name will go a long way with them. No bear will harm a friend of mine!”

  I didn’t know what to make of old Tom. But where the fuck had the monsters gone? And, I don’t know, he just seemed friendly. Tom was down low to the ground now, rubbing Ben’s ears and asking, “Who’s a good boy?” Ben seemed to enjoy it.

  “Tom, wait here and let me check with the girls on our plans. We have this, um, kind of urgent mission thing, but maybe we can make some time for tea. Come on Ben.” But Ben was otherwise occupied.

  I re-entered the Tent.

  “Well,” Asked Cinderella. “Who is he?”

  “He is.” I stopped and couldn’t help smiling remembering the friendly old man rubbing Ben’s ears. “He is Tom. He’s invi
ted us to tea.”

  “Tea?” Pea looked at me suspiciously, “Tea, like dried leaves soaked in hot water? Or tea, like a light meal served in the afternoon? Hot tea or tea with the queen? It’s too early for tea in the afternoon.”

  “Well, IF we go for tea, either way it will be tea with the queen.” I put a hand on my head and spun myself in a way that, for some reason, conveys my queenly status. “Anyway, I don’t know. He just said tea. So, what do you think? Should we go tramping off in the middle of the mission for tea with Tom?”

  “What do you think?” Asked Cindy. “You met him.”

  “Well, he seemed, I don’t know, friendly. And Ben likes him.”

  Pea said, “Oh, well if Ben likes him, let’s go.”

  I looked for a sign of sarcasm on her face, but found none.

  “Ok, let’s” added Cinderella.

  Emily nodded her agreement.

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Look, if there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s that when you are on a quest you’ve got to follow the story where it leads. No use fighting it.” Pea hefted her bottle for emphasis.

  Tom and Ben were playing some inscrutable game that involved a stick and a ball (where did the ball come from?) when we came out of the tent.

  “Tom, I’d like to introduce you to Their Highnesses the Princesses Sweet Pea and Cinderella. And this is Emily.”

  Tom bowed his head low over each hand in turn “I am most grateful that you have agreed to join me for a little tea.”

  “Thank you kind sir for your most gracious invitation.” Replied Cinderella, who was always better at courtesy and such.

  Cinderella closed up the tent and was about to put the acorn into her pocket when Tom asked, “Excuse me, but might I see that before you put it away?”

  I could tell that Cindy wanted to say no. But there was just something so damn friendly about Tom, that she handed it over.

  He examined it for a moment. “Pretty thing.” He spun it in the palm of his hand, like a top, then threw it high in the air and it vanished! Cinderella had her sword half drawn, before Tom, laughing, opened his hand to reveal the acorn safe and sound. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. This is Mab’s work, if I’m not mistaken.” He handed the acorn back to Cinderella

  Cinderella re-sheathed her sword and nodded. “Yes. Do you know my fairy godmother?”

  Old Tom laughed. “Know her? Why, I’m her godfather. Feels like just yesterday when I held her by her squirming feet, suspended over the vat of molten fire, while her mortality burned away. Oh, what a party! Still, I don’t suppose she remembers. She never mentioned me? Old Tom?”

  She shook her head. “No, sorry, I don’t think she ever has. Although Fairy Godmother isn’t much of a conversationalist. It’s mostly lights and fairy dust and wand waving and, well, gifts.”

  “Ah, no matter, still it would be nice to be remembered, at least talked about, even if nobody visits. But the important thing is that you’re all here now! Shall we your highnesses?” He bowed and motioned us forward.

  Emily tugged at his sleeve to catch his attention. “I’m not a highness,” Emily said, “I’m just a girl.”

  Tom reached down and lifted her onto his shoulders. He looked so thin and old I thought he would break, but he bore her weight like it was nothing.

  “Just a girl? Well, just a girl is a fine thing to be! I remember when I was just a girl a long while ago.”

  “Don’t you mean just a boy?” Asked Emily.

  “Oh, that too! Anyway, when I was just a girl, it was one of the best times of my life! And it’s been a very long life, so that’s saying something.”

  Cinderella came up alongside them and took one of Emily’s hands in her own. “It must have been a long life if you’re Fairy Godmother’s godfather.”

  “Oh, Old Tom was old when the world was young. I saw the first rain drop, I caught the first snowflake on my tongue.” He stuck out his tongue and mimed catching a snowflake. Emily screamed and giggled as she was tipped back. “But don’t worry! I’m still spry!” And he jumped high in the air and Emily giggled and screamed again.

  We walked on a little while and then Tom stopped. “OK, here we are.” We all looked around. There was nothing but forest. It was a pretty little stretch of forest, and we hadn’t seen a single monster, but it was just forest. No palace, no house, no pavilion and no tea. Then Tom reached down and, I don’t know exactly how to describe it, but he just grabbed a corner of the world and peeled it away. On the other side of the flap of the world, which he still held in his hand, was an entirely different forest. He motioned us forward. Once we’d all passed through the opening he let the flap drop.

  We stood on a gentle mountainside overlooking a valley. Where the Great Forest had been dark and a little scary, here there was abundant sunlight, colorful birds filed the air and a sparkling river winked at us from the valley floor. Tom stretched his arms “Welcome to my home!” At the far end of the valley was a waterfall, and a farmhouse. It looked like a long walk, but the clean air and the sunlight filled us with energy. Just then four little mountain ponies equipped with colorful blankets and saddles came into view.

  As Tom mounted his pony he looked at the sky and said, “Perfect, we should reach the house just about tea time.” And sure enough our early morning sun had somehow climbed into early afternoon.

  The ride down the mountain was peaceful. The gentle swaying of the ponies, the idle chatter of the birds. It felt more like a homecoming than a visit to someplace new.

  We rode up to the farmhouse and dismounted. Cindy took the acorn from her pocket “If it’s alright with you, Tom, I’d like to let the horses out to graze. They always prefer natural grass to the magic hay.”

  Tom nodded his assent and then led us inside. I wish Cinderella had been there to see how Tom ushered Ben inside without hesitation, but she was off taking care of the horses. Damn!

  His farm house was, well, charming. The floor was well-worn red brick, on a large hearth burnt a fire of logs, a couple of high-backed settees faced each other on either side of the fire. In the middle of the room stood a long table of plain boards placed on trestles, with benches down each side. Rows of spotless plates gleamed from the shelves of the dresser at the far end of the room, and from the rafters overhead hung bundles of dried herbs, nets of onions, and baskets of eggs. It seemed a place where heroes could fitly feast after victory, where weary harvesters could line up in scores along the table and keep their Harvest Home, or where two or three friends of simple tastes could sit about as they pleased and eat and drink and talk in comfort and contentment.

  The table was already laden with food and drink for our tea. Tom served us cups of delicious tea (blackberry with a touch of ginger I think), and plates of charming sandwiches and cakes and pastries. It was just like tea with the queen. As always, Ben lay at my feet and I fed him snacks from my plate.

  After tea, Tom took us on a tour of his home. While the front part was simple and comfortable, the rest of the house was filled to bursting with gold and jewels and art. Enough for 100 kingdoms.

  “Where did you get all this?” Pea asked the question that we all wanted to ask.

  “Oh,” He shrugged, “people come here from time to time, seeking safety or rest or advice, and they leave things for safe keeping, and sometime they come back, but more often they just do what people do and die and this useless junk accumulates. I feel bad throwing it away. The old owners always seemed to think it was so important. Would you care to see my gardens?”

  And we did care to.

  After the tours we gathered again at the table and Tom poured us small glasses of a wonderful and potent wine. As we sipped our wine, Tom stood to address us. “Your Highnesses, and just a girl, thank you all so much for visiting with me. It has been my custom since time immemorial to offer my visitors some small gifts before they depart my home. I have something for each of you. If you will allow me.”

  We all (well, except for Emily) p
rotested that no gifts were needed, with many refrains of, ‘Oh, that’s not necessary.’ And ‘We should offer you a gift for your excellent hospitality.’ And things of that kind, but secretly we all wanted to see what kinds of gifts Old Tom would offer. So, we let him convince us. Nobody was fooled.

  He pulled over a large chest from a corner of the room and began to rummage through it all the while muttering to himself. “Brains, no. Courage, hardly. A bow and arrows to be used in time of greatest need, I don’t think so. Ah, this is perfect.” He pulled out a scroll of paper.

  “The first gift is for the smallest of your company. Emily, you arrived as just a girl, which is a high and wonderful thing to be, but now you can also be a princess. As king of this valley, I hereby confer upon you the title of Princess of the Valley!”

  Emily shrieked with delight and solemnly took the scroll from Tom. He gave her a light kiss on the cheek and said, “But don’t forget to be just a girl sometimes.”

  “I won’t. Thank you King Tom.”

  He rummaged some more in the chest, “Magic Cordial, no. Genie in the lamp, no. Ah! Just the thing.”

  “Princess Sweet Pea,” He held out a pure white feather. “Simply place this under your back and you will always get a comfortable night’s sleep, in a bed or in the forest.”

  Pea’s face lit up with, what I can only describe as, transcendent joy. She ran to Tom and gave him a big hug. “Thank you! It’s been years since I’ve had a good night’s sleep!”

  He returned to his chest. “Seven League Boots, no. Magic Carpet, no. Ah.”

  “And for you Princess Cinderella, a single rose, which will never die or fade, that you may enjoy its beauty as much as the world enjoys yours.”

  I swear Cindy actually blushed! She took the rose, which, somehow, was more beautiful than other roses, and gave Tom a quick kiss on one cheek, and then on the other cheek.

  Tom turned back to his chest. He rummaged and muttered a long time and then finally lifted his head.

  “I’m sorry Queen Rapunzel. I don’t have anything appropriate for you in here.” He held up a plain gold ring. “Would you like this? It used to be a ring of power, but now that power has passed from the world. I think it still does give the wearer some resistance to fire. It used to turn you invisible, but no more. Some funny little men, well not men exactly, more like proto-men, Homo floresiensis to be precise, left it here many years ago.” He tossed me the ring, which was surprisingly heavy for its size. I put it on my finger. It didn’t feel like a ring of power, but it was pretty. “However,” He continued, “if your highnesses (and he winked at Emily and she beamed back at him) would consent to be my guests for the night, in the morning my gardens will provide a gift for you that I would very much like for you to have.”