The Princess & the Gargoyle

by Mireille Pavane

  ‘She had a good teacher,’ said the king.

  ‘I have never put salt in the sugar bowl, father,’ said Princess Beatrice. ‘But I must remember to be nicer to Lady Sarah.’

  A fortnight after the betrothal announcement, Prince Xavier and Princess Beatrice were riding through the streets of the capital in a parade to greet the common people. Princess Beatrice had reluctantly agreed to attend, being impatient to meet with the generals and knights regarding a fresh report of sightings of winged beasts to the east.

  As the betrothed couple rode down a street followed by their entourage, several heavy objects suddenly fell from the sky and dropped a mere foot away from the princess and her startled horse.

  The objects turned out to be roof tiles from a house along the route which had become loosened with age and weathering. Princess Beatrice assured everyone that she and her mount were unhurt and rode off to join the generals and the knights.

  Shortly after the parade, gifts began to arrive for the betrothal of Princess Beatrice and Prince Xavier. Among the lavish gifts for the princess was a pair of beautiful jewelled hair combs in a velvet lined silver casket. One of the princess’ handmaidens admired the beauty of the combs so much that she yearned to try them on. The handmaiden was found later in the day, lying lifeless on the floor with the combs still in her hair.

  The teeth of the combs retained residue of their deadly poison, but investigations led nowhere as the gift had arrived mysteriously and from an unknown well-wisher.

  King Theobald ordered a tightening of security around the capital and the princess.

  ‘But, father,’ said Princess Beatrice.

  ‘It is necessary, Beatrice,’ said the king.

  On the day of the betrothal banquet, Princess Beatrice was called away—to the great protests of Prince Xavier, Lady Sarah and others of the royal household—to deal with a report of winged beasts harassing villages to the north of the capital. She returned late in the evening when the entertainment for the betrothal banquet was already underway.

  It was Lady Megan and the princess’ standard-bearer, Lady Elizabeth, who noticed that Lemondrop, the pet of the royal household who had once been a skittish kitten, was lying motionless underneath Princess Beatrice’s chair, next to Prince Xavier’s, at the banquet table. Lemondrop had crumbs of the betrothal cake on her front paws which she had evidently stolen from a corner of the untouched slice on the princess’ plate.

  The news that Princess Beatrice, after the first two failed attempts on her life, had almost been poisoned at her betrothal banquet spread through the land like wildfire.

  The attempted poisoning incident at her own betrothal banquet did not curb Princess Beatrice’s recalcitrant ways. She carried on her usual pursuits and was very stern with anybody (including Prince Xavier) who suggested that she required more guards to follow her about every moment from dawn till dusk for her protection or who blamed the poor baker for the poisoned cake when the investigations had clearly shown that only the cake slice on her plate had been tampered with, laced with belladonna.

  ‘Lack of evidence to identify the true culprit does not mean that the baker is guilty,’ said the princess.

  ‘It dies not mean that he is innocent,’ said Prince Xavier.

  ‘It will take a bit more than a discourteous poisoning to stop me from eating the baker’s cakes,’ said Princess Beatrice.

  ‘This cannot go on, Beatrice,’ said King Theobald. ‘I cannot allow you to continue risking your life.’

  ‘I take no more risk than anyone else in this kingdom who lives under the dark cloud,’ said the princess. ‘I am merely another piece on the chessboard. The game will play itself out.’

  ‘Beatrice,’ said the king.

  ‘Please do not be troubled, father,’ said the princess. ‘All will turn out well.’

  ‘Perhaps these are hopeful signs that things may be changing in the tide,’ said Princess Beatrice to Sir Hugo in the linden grove.

  ‘How so, your Highness?’ asked Sir Hugo.

  ‘Perhaps underhand villainy is a sign that our foes cannot win by fair means. Perhaps the evil in the kingdom of the Black Mountain is weakening. Perhaps the Black Mountain and Prince Xavier’s attentions will be distracted away and give Trasimene a reprieve,’ said the princess.

  ‘Your Highness is resilient in your optimism,’ said Sir Hugo.

  In the middle of the night, in the privacy of her chamber, Princess Beatrice took out the jewel and stared at it.

  And the jewel stared back, obstinately silent.

  Three full moons rose and set over the land in the continuing grind of war.

  One day, when the magnolia trees were in full bloom across the kingdom, Prince Xavier announced his wedding gift to his future bride.

  Prince Xavier had found a site on the Ossaian side of the border between the two kingdoms near the Piegaro Valley on which he was going to build a great castle to celebrate the unity of the two royal families and kingdoms. Once built, it would become the principal residence of the royal household of Ossaia and the new capital. Since it was to be their future residence, the prince asked Princess Beatrice to visit the site with him so that he could be satisfied that she too was pleased with the beauty and eminent suitability of the location.

  The privy counsellors and the royal court of Trasimene considered it an outrageous proposal.

  ‘Our princess has, by the grace of the heavens, survived three attempted assassinations,’ said Lady Sarah. ‘And now the prince wants Princess Beatrice to travel to the border when not so very long ago he was vehemently opposed to the princess leaving the capital on the grounds that it was endangering her life?’

  ‘Princess Beatrice is as precious to me as my own life,’ said Prince Xavier. ‘She will travel with me under the full protection of my personal guard and army. I will not allow any harm to come to her.’

  The privy counsellors suggested that sending an envoy in lieu of Princess Beatrice might appease Prince Xavier, but it proved impossible to argue with Princess Beatrice who said she would ride out herself at the prince’s invitation.

  ‘It is not safe for the princess to travel so far away from the capital at this time,’ said Sir Hugo. ‘But if her Highness should be determined to make the journey, it would be most inadvisable for her to travel without a full military escort.’

  ‘I will lead a detachment of troops to escort her Highness there and back again to the capital,’ said Lord Moncrieffe.

  ‘Well, Beatrice?’ said King Theobald in resignation. ‘You know what my wishes are, though I cannot prevent you from accepting Prince Xavier’s invitation anymore than anyone else could ever persuade you from anything.’

  ‘I will take a stroll about the linden grove, father, before I give my answer,’ said the princess.

  To the dismay of the king, the privy council and the royal household, Princess Beatrice accepted Prince Xavier’s invitation.

  Three days later, Princess Beatrice left the capital of Trasimene with Prince Xavier to travel eastward towards the border.

  As Prince Xavier had promised, his troops travelled as escort ahead and alongside the prince and princess. Following behind the advance guard of Ossaia marched Princess Beatrice’s own retinue comprising her royal guard and a small army led by Lord Moncrieffe.

  ‘You look like you are heading into battle,’ said Prince Xavier.

  ‘Do I?’ said Princess Beatrice.

  They marched for two days. On the third day, they reached the road leading to the Piegaro Valley and the boundary between Trasimene and Ossaia traversed by a great winding river. To the northern and southern sides of the road lay a series of heavily forested hills. The valley pass through which they marched was even but as they approached the border, the road began to dip to where the curving valley met the banks of the river.

  ‘The bridge of Piegaro is ahead,’ said Prince Xavier. ‘Once we cross the bridge into Ossaia, it is only a short journey to arrive at our destination. I look forwar
d to welcoming you into my realm.’

  The bridge of Piegaro was a sturdy wooden trestle bridge wide enough for horses to ride over in single file over the raging currents of the Piegaro beneath.

  Prince Xavier’s advance guard marched over the bridge, followed by Prince Xavier and Princess Beatrice and her escort.

  ‘Where is Lord Moncrieffe?’ asked Princess Beatrice upon reaching the other side.

  ‘The valley road was narrow, your Highness,’ said Lady Sophia. ‘The general and his troops have been somewhat delayed in reaching the bridge and making the crossing.’

  ‘Perhaps we should wait for the general and his men,’ said Princess Beatrice.

  ‘I am sure they are not far behind and will catch up shortly,’ said Prince Xavier.

  ‘Very well,’ said the princess.

  And so Prince Xavier and Princess Beatrice, with the prince’s soldiers and the princess’ royal guard, proceeded into the realm of Ossaia.

  The terrain levelled as they marched along the road at the foot of the Piegaro Valley hills. They passed through a forest whose foliage was sparse enough that the travellers could see the peak of the adjacent hillside upon which stood the grey ruins of an ancient fortress keep.

  ‘Built in the age when our ancestors were at war,’ said Prince Xavier.

  ‘Are those gargoyles sitting atop its battlements?’ asked Princess Beatrice.

  ‘There is no need to fear. They are merely statues made of stone, my love,’ said Prince Xavier.

  They came into a small clearing.

  ‘This seems like a pleasant spot to rest,’ said Princess Beatrice.

  ‘But we are very near our destination,’ said Prince Xavier.

  ‘I should like to rest awhile here and wait for Lord Moncrieffe to catch up,’ said Princess Beatrice. ‘I did promise my father that I would not lose my escort this time.’

  As the soldiers set up a temporary camp in the clearing, Princess Beatrice sent one of her royal guards to ride back to find out Lord Moncrieffe’s progress, and another to try to find a better view of the fortress ruins.

  The sun started to sink in the sky, throwing out beams like dying embers across the valley.

  ‘You have a visitor, your Highness,’ said Lady Megan.

  ‘A visitor?’ said Princess Beatrice. ‘But that is impossible. No one could have found us here.’

  ‘The lady simply appeared outside your tent, your Highness, and requested an audience with Princess Beatrice of Trasimene,’ said Lady Megan. ‘She gave her name as Lady Diane, former mathematics tutor to the royal princesses of Trasimene. She is unarmed and awaits your Highness’ pleasure by the clump of the three intertwined trees yonder.’

  ‘Lady Diane left the royal household and Trasimene many moons ago when she wed a foreign ambassador,’ said Princess Beatrice.

  Nevertheless, the princess followed Lady Megan and went to the clump of three intertwined trees.

  A hooded figure stood facing away from the princess and Lady Megan. The figure turned around as the princess approached and bowed.

  ‘Your Highness,’ said the visitor.

  ‘Who are you?’ said the princess.

  ‘Nightfall is coming, your Highness,’ said the visitor.

  The visitor lowered her hood. Princess Beatrice recognised the visage of her old mathematics tutor and yet she could not quite believe the evidence before her eyes.

  ‘Lady Diane?’ said the princess.

  ‘Look to your friends, princess. Look to the skies over Ermengard,’ said the visitor, and vanished.

  Princess Beatrice was quiet for several long moments.

  ‘We return to the capital at once,’ said Princess Beatrice at last.

  ‘Your Highness?’ said Lady Megan.

  ‘One does not lightly disregard a visit from an oracle,’ said Princess Beatrice.

  Prince Xavier was incredulous when one of his soldiers reported to him Princess Beatrice’s unexpected decision to return to Trasimene.

  ‘But we have set up camp here at her request,’ said the prince. ‘It will take at least another night for the troops to be ready to march!’

  ‘Princess Beatrice and her royal guard have already left, your Highness,’ said the messenger. ‘The princess sends her apologies.’

  Prince Xavier threw his cup into the fire and stormed out of his tent to find his horse. The prince and a small party of his personal guard left the camp and rode back along the road to catch up with Princess Beatrice.

  After crossing the bridge of Piegaro and riding a short distance, Prince Xavier’s party found Princess Beatrice and her royal guard at a bend in the road, examining the pile of tumbled rocks and boulders sealing the path from one side of the valley to the other.

  ‘The valley pass appears to have been blocked by a rockfall, your Highness,’ said Lady Sophia. ‘Lord Moncrieffe must be stranded on the other side.’

  ‘And we are stranded here,’ said Princess Beatrice.

  ‘Why the sudden urgency in returning to the capital, my love?’ asked Prince Xavier.

  ‘I had a premonition,’ said Princess Beatrice.

  ‘But now the way is blocked,’ said Prince Xavier.

  ‘We will find another way,’ said Princess.

  ‘The only other way, aside from riding over the hills—which no one has ever been foolish enough to attempt on account of the difficult terrain and hostile valley tribes who inhabit the forest—is to take the circuitous route around the valley and hills which is a journey of at least a sennight,’ said Prince Xavier.

  ‘If the journey is to be a long one, it would be better to start immediately,’ said Princess Beatrice.

  ‘The evening darkness is nearly upon us,’ said Prince Xavier. ‘The sensible thing to do would be to head back to camp for the night.’

  Princess Beatrice could not argue with the good sense of this scheme. Reluctantly, she turned her royal guard back from the rockfall to follow Prince Xavier’s entourage.

  As they approached the bridge of Piegaro, the air began to vibrate and the twilight sky darkened with the shadows of immense wings.

  ‘Beasts from the Black Mountain!’ cried a soldier.

  ‘To the bridge!’ cried Prince Xavier.

  ‘To arms!’ cried Princess Beatrice.

  Princess Beatrice and her royal guard arrayed themselves in a formation and drew out their weapons as winged beasts swooped down from the sky.

  The princess raised her bow and shot one poison-tipped arrow into the breast of a winged beast whose screeching cry as it began its death plummet echoed horrifically through the valley and was followed swiftly by the cries of its fellow winged beasts as they too plunged from the air, choking out bewildered roars and tongues of fire from their bellies, burning up the sky in bursts of golden flames.

  ‘Shields! Fall back but stay alert!’ cried Princess Beatrice as poisoned shafts rained down on the swarm of winged beasts.

  The air was filled with the acrid smell of singed chaos and death as, one by one, the winged beasts succumbed to the poison which speared through them like harpoons thrust by an invisible hand from the murky depths of the surrounding forest, set alight by their own fiery breaths.

  The princess and her royal guard fought and subdued the remaining winged beasts that fell from the sky who had escaped the deadly shower or were nearing the final throes of the poison spreading through their veins but were still thrashing and lunging and heaving and rolling and writhing with violent rage and bloodlust.

  As the last of the winged beasts were defeated and being bound up by her royal guard, Princess Beatrice dipped the tip of an arrow into a nearby flickering flame that had not yet burnt out and shot it into the night sky. It soared, flaring, and died out in the darkness. In answer, the invisible shower ceased and the forest quietened and became still.

  ‘They will say you dabble in witchcraft,’ said Lady Lucy, surveying the aftermath of the skirmish.

  ‘Will they?’ said Princess Beatrice. ‘It might com
e in handy. A fearsome reputation is sometimes as useful as an army.’

  Princess Beatrice was discussing the burial arrangements for the fallen beasts with her royal guard when Sir Joshua approached and bowed.

  ‘Lothaire, the captain of the winged beasts, has been captured, your Highness,’ said Sir Joshua.

  ‘Please take us to him,’ said Princess Beatrice.

  The princess, accompanied by her royal guards, rode up to the prisoner behind the standard-bearer, Lady Elizabeth, to meet the captain of the winged beasts. Arms and legs bound, guarded by two knights, the twin brothers Sirs Callum and Zachary, the captain of the winged beasts acknowledged the princess’ arrival with vicious snarls.

  ‘Your brethren are perished or taken prisoner, Lothaire. Will you discuss terms?’ said Princess Beatrice.

  ‘You have no authority to demand terms,’ snapped Lothaire. ‘Your knights foolishly neglected to bind my wings. You give me good reason to linger and take my vengeance.’

  The wings tucked behind Lothaire’s back burst open to their full sinister glory, casting a shadow over the princess heavier than the twilight darkness.

  ‘Ah,’ said Princess Beatrice. ‘Would you take your chances again with the spirits of the forest?’

  ‘Then the tales are true?’ cried Lothaire. ‘You have sorcery at your command! No mere human princess could have rebuffed the kingdom of the Black Mountain and held it at bay.’

  ‘Will you discuss terms?’ said Princess Beatrice.

  The captain of the winged beasts grudgingly lowered his wings.

  ‘What do you want, princess?’ said Lothaire.

  ‘I want to know what befell my sister Cristabel and her horse,’ said Princess Beatrice. ‘I think you alone know their true fate.’

  ‘Then you are mistaken, princess,’ said Lothaire with a hideous grimace of a smirk. ‘There is one other who knows.’

  The princess’ reply was interrupted by the sound of brisk hooves as Prince Xavier and his personal guard came riding back along the valley road.

  Prince Xavier came to a halt at the sight of all the slain winged beasts scattered about the valley floor and the living captain of the winged beasts standing before Princess Beatrice.