The Official Guide to Rescuing and Maintaining Damsels in Distress

by K Alexander

  "I'm not letting my lips anywhere near your person," she informed him with affable disgust. "And if you force me to chase you again I'm simply going to throw my dagger at the collar of your shirt. I do not feel like running any more today. Do you understand me?"

  For an answer he sat down where he stood and folded his arms sullenly. Keeping an eye on him Crispin stepped closer to the edge of the roof, risking a glance into the street below. "Eric?" There was no reply. Walking to the other side she peeked down. "Eric?"

  "Here." It was more of a long drawn-out breath than a word. The handsome blonde man stood below on the cobblestones with his hands propped on his thighs, his back heaving as he gasped for air.

  "Are you all right?"

  In lieu of words he waved one hand in her general direction, not moving from his position. With a last glance down Crispin turned and ambled back towards the man who was sitting in the middle of the floor with a sneer on his face.

  "You were hopping over these roofs like a joyful little gazelle in spring. It would appear that you know this area quite well."

  "Might do." He couldn't resist a little smugness.

  "Well, then, show me the way down."

  "Find it yerself."

  With a sigh Crispin stepped back to the edge of the roof. "Eric? If I push him over will you catch him?"

  "I could give it my best." The voice that drifted up to them sounded more than a little dubious. "I might drop him, though; I'm warning you. He didn't look all that light to me."

  "Oh well. Means justifying the end and all of that." Stalking back she shoved one hand under the sitting man's arm and pulled him up, then dragged him towards the edge of the roof. Though he was trying to struggle it was not that easy with his arm lifted so high that his feet barely touched the floor.

  "'ere, ye're not just goin to toss me over. Ye wouldn't."

  A smothered snigger drifted from below. "If you're trying to appeal to her better nature you're an optimist, my friend. Praying for wings would be more likely to get a result."

  "Right, right," twisting his arm the shorter man attempted to catch Crispin's eye, "stop it, will ye? Nothing I know's worth this aggravation. What is it ye want?"

  "I do love a rational man." Lowering her hand a little she alleviated his uncomfortable position, though his shady character forced her to keep a light hold on him. "We are looking for a young woman, a princess to be exact, who may have left this town with a player at some point late last night or in the early hours of this morning."

  The ugly man tapped his chin thoughtfully. "What did yer princess look like?"

  "What, you have such a inundation of princesses that you need a description?" The knight waved one hand somewhere in the vicinity of her ear. "Yea high, fair hair, green eyes, royal attitude. Let's hear it."

  "Hmmm," raising one bushy eyebrow Claude scrutinized her shrewdly, "there anything in it for me?"

  "Oh, definitely. Unbroken limbs, a healthy spine, fairly good health and a nice even smile." Crispin presented him with one of her own.

  "Now that ye mention it, I did see that gal with Philip at the square yesterday."

  "Philip?"

  "Yeah, Philip." He curled his top lip in disdain. "That no-good damned son'f mine."

  They sat around a table near the square, armed with mugs of mead supplied to them by Daedalus from the pure goodness of his heart. Or so Crispin told herself, ignoring the beady stare he fixed on her from behind the plasters dotting his face. Claude, having realised that this time, at least, he was not the guilty party, was only too glad to help.

  "So when did you see your son last, Claude?"

  "Well, 's yesterday, the time he were chattin to yer princess. I was tryin to get him to pull a job with me," noticing the curious expressions around the table he changed direction as gracefully as a dragon dancing in a fairy ring, "was construction, nothing ye'd be interested in, 'lright? So I was askin him very nicely and he says he has his own thing goin, don't need my scheme or me in his scheme … buildin scheme, that is. Then yer princess drops in and he drops me. Just like that."

  "What happened to a little honouring of one's parents?" Ever the gentleman, Eric was heroically fuelling the family feud. Claude nodded enthusiastically.

  "Yeah. What did happen to that?"

  Scowling at the excessively compassionate prince Crispin cleared her throat. "Claude, as much as I know that you have absolutely nothing to do with the building trade, apart from scaling them once in a while, or breaking into them, I couldn't really care. What I do care about is finding the princess, and for that to happen, I need you tell us what Philip's up to."

  Claude scratched his head with a gnarly finger. "Well, I don't know as that would be the right thing to do. He is my son, after all, you know, and if he was to get into a predicament…"

  "All we want is Helena, Claude," Eric assured him quickly, "and if we were possibly to frighten him a tad that would be right justice for maltreating his father, wouldn't it?"

  "'t would. That it would." Scratching his chin Claude came to a swift decision. "The troupe's goin to reach Flagstaff to the southwest in a few days. Philip'll be travelling with 'em maybe two days before he takes the princess and peels off. Where, he weren't sayin."

  Tossing her mead back quickly Crispin stood, gesturing to Eric to do the same with a nod of her dark head. "I appreciate your help, Claude. If I didn't have such a solid policy with regards to the proximity of my lips to general dirt, I would kiss you right about now."

  "Oh sod off." It was almost paternal. "When ye find that uppity son'f mine give him a smack in the rear before ye send him back. I'm gettin too old for this shite."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  "… LO AND BEHOLD, you horrid bugger

  I take after my moustachioed mother

  And saying so he drew his lance

  And stuck it up the royal's… "

  The knight testily interrupted the prince's deeply soulful squawking. "Eric."

  "… yes?"

  "Is there, in fact, some sort of royal finishing school where all of your types learn this damned song?"

  One perfectly arched blonde eyebrow disappeared contemplatively beneath his rakish fringe. "Perhaps there could be a reappearance of it at Madame Contretemps' College for Young Nobles, sung in the washroom as a form of rebellion or something to that effect." He shifted in his saddle with the air of somebody who was about to communicate something of an incredibly boring nature with the greatest of enthusiasm. "It was, in fact, made very fashionable at the Court of Francolin the Seventh of Crane Valley by the renowned court jester Twerp, who performed it on fifteen separate occasions, one being to mark the arrival of the queen of you're not, in fact, even listening, are you?"

  "No." Crispin shook her head lazily. "But I like not listening amiably to your talking more than I like listening with dismay to your singing, darling."

  "Marvellous, for I reflect on nothing but your happiness. Troll."

  They had been riding in a southwest direction towards Flagstaff for what had remained of the day, and the sun was now setting rapidly ahead of them. Dark shadows lengthened around them, and although they were on a communal road the hazard of bandits always remained. Studying the beautiful layers of colour in the sky Eric reined in his horse and swerved closer to the woman next to him.

  "I think we should move off the main road and make camp in a less open space, Crispin. No need to look for trouble."

  "Yes, it always finds us first. You're right, Eric. Do you see that break in the foliage up ahead? Let's pull in there and find a suitable area a little bit further in."

  Gamely they trudged through the small undergrowth and into a lightly forested area, riding quietly for a good while until the trees fell off once again and gave way to a clearing.

  "Eric? Have I finally lost my mind, or are there lights looking at us in the not-so-distant distance?"

  Squinting in the near darkness Eric could barely make out what seemed to be three or four lamps g
lowing invitingly. "Does that have to be an either/or question? They're definitely not a figment of your imagination, Crispin. Lamplight, not too far off. Shall we rush up and plead for a little hospitality?"

  "Oh yes. The few days in town have spoiled my rump for anything harder than a bed."

  "What majestically vigorous knights we are." Eric's mockingly flattering voice elicited a burst of laughter from Crispin.

  "Hey, do you remember the time when we swam into the tunnel at Gungjian for the alleged treasure and then you wouldn't dive down to the secret opening because it meant that your hair would be mussed?"

  "The word to emphasize there is alleged. When you got back you were none the richer and very muddy, and I was still looking great."

  "I have a natural appeal."

  "Certainly you have au naturel appeal, but once you're dressed it comes down to personality, and there, my love…"

  "Oh shush. What is this place, do you suppose?"

  They had gradually been approaching the glow and could now see the building from which it originated. Stopping, they took a moment to consider the structure. It appeared to be a very old farmhouse with no extraordinary aspect about it save that it was in the middle of nowhere. Dark wood, obviously uncared for, was hammered at absurd angles, and the glassless windowpanes - the sources of light - had twisted themselves into odd shapes over the years. A porch obscured where they assumed the front door would be, vines growing and winding with abandon around its dark wooden pillars and onto the sloping roof. Three stairs led onto the dark porch, and in the gloom they could barely make out a massive boulder that sat incongruously on the front lawn. To the left a smaller building stood, its details concealed by the darkness falling around it.

  Catching the movement of the golden head next to her Crispin leaned closer and glanced at Eric. "It looks a bit… ominous."

  His head nodded a few times, the lamplight accentuating strands of his hair. "Ominous? Or just plain creepy?"

  "And yet…" she sat up in her saddle and draped her hands over Toby's neck, "we're probably going to carry on until we are so irreversibly in trouble that we have no choice but to run away screaming like little girls."

  The prince nodded solemnly. "That we will."

  "Well then," Crispin nudged an unwilling Toby into a walk, "shall we? And why do we, by the way?"

  "It is because we are knights," the prince declared with a noble air, "because we are proud, and righteous, and brave - and too bloody stupid to find a less dangerous profession."

  Approaching the boulder they slowed down, caution creeping in and peeking over their shoulders. When Toby came to a complete halt and declined to continue politely Crispin glanced at Eric. "Perhaps we should just turn around and…"

  "Welcome, strangers."

  It was so unexpected that Toby took a pensive moment before he reared wildly and threw a startled Crispin clear off his back. Landing skilfully she rolled to her feet in a poised crouch, her blue eyes darting quickly to the figure that had apparently sprouted from behind the massive rock. Straightening up, it proved to be a rather pretty and unthreatening well-bosomed young woman, her features indistinguishable in the faint light. Though only the whites of Eric's eyes were showing over the broad back of the horse he was currently hiding behind, they managed to look more or less as sheepish as Crispin felt. With an embarrassed little cough she straightened up and rubbed one hand over her black hair uncomfortably. "Er. Hello."

  The young woman stepped out from behind the boulder and approached the knight slowly, her filmy dress floating oddly about her legs. She moved so elegantly that her feet didn't seem to be touching the ground. "My apologies for having startled you." Her voice was agreeably light, and her strong accent slightly nasal yet charmingly lilting. "I hope that you are not injured?"

  Avoiding the extended hand that was threatening to examine her limbs Crispin shook her head rather numbly. "No. No. I'm fine."

  "You seem somewhat stunned. Did you knock your head? Please, you must come in. I will have it no other way." Swirling around the young woman floated towards the house, speaking over her shoulder as she did so. "I will fetch a lantern to take the horses to the barn. I will not be long."

  For the next few moments Crispin and Eric were engaged in one of those sharply whispered interactions that regularly ended in the oft-repeated words "you!" "no, you!" In this case it actually happened to be "let's go!" "let's not!" but the principle remained exactly the same, and when the young woman returned it was to a smug prince and a petulant knight. Lifting her lantern to illuminate, briefly, a charmingly upturned nose and gently pouting upper lip, she motioned towards the barn with her head.

  "Please do follow me."

  They were pleasantly surprised at the interior of the apparently ramshackle barn. From the inside it almost looked like a different building altogether, clean and warm with such a good stock of hay that even Toby relented and discarded his injured air. Leaving two satisfied horses the young woman led two rather less satisfied but more ill at ease individuals up the porch stairs and through the slightly open door of the farmhouse. The interior had the same effect as that of the barn - that is, it seemed to be a completely different place on the inside. The living area that they had stepped into was warmly decorated and inviting, with large well-stuffed chairs arranged on thick brightly coloured carpets around a massive stone fireplace. A roaring fire was currently going, and it was in that light that the young woman stepped forward and was joined immediately by two others who had apparently just materialised from the chairs. Side by side it was unmistakeable that they were identical siblings. All three were crowned with a profusion of red hair that tumbled and curled around their delicate triangular faces. Large eyes and full pouting top lips were mirrored likewise in every face. The woman who had welcomed them shook her head.

  "Oh, where are my manners, I must apologise. I am Souflay, and these are my sisters Biday and Lahtay." The other two girls bobbed at the mention of their names. "Welcome once again to our home, and I do hope that I have not caused you too much distress." Stepping forward towards Crispin Souflay spoke to her sisters over her shoulder. "This one's steed started and threw her." Extending her hands she reached out and patted clean air, mostly because the dark knight had tried to step back subtly at the movement and consequently tripped over a corner of the bearskin rug behind her. The three sisters watched the sprawled woman with such expressions of concern that she almost began to giggle from nervousness.

  "Well, see, I'm all right. Nothing the matter at all. Solid as a bear. Except this one under me, of course." Stumbling to her feet with the help of Eric's hand under her elbow she dusted at her clothing, extremely aware even before she did it that there was absolutely nothing to dust away. I did better with the dragon than with three harmless well-mannered amply bosomed young women. What is the matter with me? I'm behaving like a nervous colt. Clearing her throat she knocked Eric in the ribs. It took him a moment, but he got there.

  "Oh, we haven't even introduced ourselves. Pardon me. I am Eric De Fontenèt at your service, and my charming friend over here is Crispin."

  The three sisters bobbed in unison before one of them spoke up. "Oh, you must be hungry. We have some soup and bread left over from our supper - it is a simple meal but we are most honoured to share. Biday, please fetch tea for our guests." The girl on the far right bobbed. "Souflay, please ladle the soup into the bowls." The girl in the centre bobbed. "And as our guests, please do make yourselves comfortable." The young woman motioned towards the richly upholstered chairs before she turned and followed her two sisters into a room to the left of the entrance.

  The dark knight smiled politely until the three young women had disappeared, then swung around just in time to catch the amused grin parading around on Eric's lips. "What are you sniggering at?" she wanted to know irritably.

  With a teasing pout the prince shrugged his broad shoulders. "Oh, nothing at all, Crispin." Wandering towards the chairs he picked one at random and dr
opped down into it. "You're as perfectly charming as ever."

  With a crabby snort she picked the chair to his left and sat down, almost letting loose a startled yelp when her lean frame sank deep into the pillows. Shooting a dark glower in his direction to prevent any forthcoming laughter she shifted around a little. Eric watched with interest until she had settled.

  "Crispin?"

  "What?"

  "Nothing is going to happen."

  Eyeing him darkly she picked at a protruding strand of material. "Something always happens, Eric."

  "Not in this case." Stretching over he took her restless hand in his. "Look, they are three frail lovely young women. We, on the other hand, are fearless knights with sharp daggers stuffed down our boots. There is absolutely nothing to fear. Are you sure you're not just nervous specifically because they're three frail lovely young women?"

  "You always say such complete nonsense."

  "Well, I shall protect your assets until such a time as you wish to distribute them," he declared solemnly, pulling his hand away rapidly to avoid the normally resulting slap.

  At that point the door opened again to the three women who were each carrying a tray in their hands. The first placed expertly prepared tea on the small table in front of them. The second offered each a bowl of delicious-smelling soup, and the third placed a plate filled with thick slices of buttered bread on the table next to the tea. Though the sisters had described the food as simple it looked rich and appetizing, and with polite thanks both the knight and the prince set about demolishing their meals as civilly as possible. At a request from one of the sisters (neither Crispin nor Eric could tell the difference) they shortly related some of their adventures, the youthfully enthusiastic reception thereof encouraging them to relax a little.

  "But you have had marvellous exploits! One must possess certain bravery to achieve such things!"

  "Well," Crispin eyed the woman and cleared her throat uncertainly, "Souflay…"