"Lay down your weapon, Smeatt," said the Prince. "These are our friends, not our dinner."
Smeatt was dubious. "Them there are birds, sir and madam. Geese, or so I believe. Commonly grown for their eggs, meat, and feathers. One of 'em alone would make a fine meal an' 'ere we got eleven of 'em. Twelve, counting that one in yer bag there."
"Come, Smeatt," said the Prince mildly. "Know now that if you so much as harbor a covetous thought about these birds we shall instantly fling you overboard to sink or swim. We shall find another meal."
The Prince seemed changed in character since his stay in the Baroness's dungeons. He struck me as older, less giddy in the brains. Why this should be, I could not say.
Having no food to offer, he yet leaned forward and held out his hand to my Geese. They pressed forward and affectionately nibbled at his fingers in a manner that nearly (I say, nearly) made me jealous.
I leaned back and closed my eyes, content to listen to my Geese splashing about me, refreshing themselves with a quick bath and a nibble of water weed.
"Where are we going?" I asked drowsily, feeling that I ought to give at least some part of my mind to our current predicament.
"Down river," responded the Prince. "You see, all rivers flow downhill to the sea, and therefore that is the direction the current is taking us. If we were to remain in this boat for many days, we should at length come out upon the Saltine Sea."
"I am acquainted with the basic facts of geography, Your Highness," I said, feeling too content to be as annoyed with the Prince as usual. Indeed, it occurred to me that I would not like him to grow so wise as to become unrecognizable; I had grown accustomed to him as he was. "But what human habitation shall we meet along the way?" I asked.
The Prince frowned. "Well," he said, "just around this bend, I believe, lies Clove City, where—" he shifted his gaze to Smeatt, who abruptly fell to studying his fingernails—"our friend here and his companions were wont to disport themselves in the middle of the night.
"Then there are a number of small towns alongside the riverbank whose names I do not know. Tis mayhap twenty miles downstream from here that we shall fetch up against Roseboom."
"Roseboom?" I opened my eyes. "Roseboom, the capital city of Gilboa, where the King's castle is?"
"That is correct, mistress."
"And how fast do you suppose we are moving now?"
The Prince screwed up his eyes, scrutinized the passing shoreline, and stroked a nonexistent beard thoughtfully like a wise old man of the sea. "Two knots, I should think, or a bit more when we row," he said at last.
"And what," I asked, "does that mean in practical terms? How long before we find ourselves swept up (figuratively speaking in your case, literally in mine), into the King's embrace?"
The Prince opened his eyes rather wide at that.
"Twould be about ... why about three hours before nightfall this evening."
"Just in time for supper," I said grimly. "At what hour, I wonder, do they dine at the castle? I am getting rather hungry."
At that moment we rounded the bend and saw the houses and church steeples of Clove City spread out ahead of us. It occurred to me that Smeatt had been rowing us very close to shore.
"Ah!" said Smeatt, with every sign of satisfaction as he saw the town appear. "Here, my dear sir and madam, is where I do be leaving yer."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
On the River
'TIS AN ILL WIND THAT BLOWETH
NO MAN TO GOOD.
—JOHN HEYWOOD, PROVERBS
The Prince and I were both so surprised by this sudden defection that Smeatt very nearly got away unchallenged. In truth, the man was nimbler on his toes than I would ever have given him credit for—he was half out of the boat ere I snagged the back of his collar.
"So ho, Smeatt!" I cried, hauling him back into the boat by the simple expedient of half strangling him with his own neckband. "Whither away so speedily? I'faith, I think it most discourteous of you. Here we are, simply longing to hear your tale in full. Would you leave us in ignorance?"
For it had quite suddenly come to me that there were several facts about Smeatt which had yet to be explained.
"Didn't think a fine lady like yer'd be interested in the doin's of a 'umble man like meself," gasped Smeatt, clutching at his collar. "Could yer—gak! Could yer leave go of me, milady? Me head is almost twisted right off."
"Indeed, Mistress Alexandria," said the Prince, musing, "I did not think on it before, but 'tis strange that Smeatt should also have been imprisoned. Why was it so?" he asked Smeatt.
"Dunno," muttered Smeatt.
"Come, man," said the Prince, beginning to get that look in his eye which invariably seemed to intimidate Smeatt, for all that the Prince was little more than a boy. "Did she give no reason? What did the guards say when they put you into the dungeon?"
Smeatt's eyes shifted back and forth, seeking escape. The Prince and I instantly each gripped one of his arms and then awaited results.
"She sent a message," he eventually admitted. "She said: 'Tell Smeatt that he should have killed them all.'"
"Killed them all?" I repeated, puzzled. "But whom did you kill?"
"Nobody. Nobody! I didn't kill none of 'em. An' now one of 'em's got to show up in the flesh an' make me look bad in front of the Baroness. Why couldn't yer have stayed in Dorloo where y'belong? Didn't even know ye were one of 'em at first but I expect y'are; one of the little 'uns, ye would be, all growed up."
"One of what little ones?"
"Little girls, o' course," bawled Smeatt, nearly in tears. "Hundreds of 'em, there were. All screechin' an' bellyachin' fit to bust a gut. Gave me a headache, it did. I gots sensitive ears. An' there be the lady on 'er knees, prayin', and the little girls all yowlin' like a pack o' wildcats. Naturally I didn't kill nobody. I'm a kindly soul, I am. Why, I even saw 'em safe to the border of Dorloo, an' waved goodbye to 'em nice as pie." He paused, his chest heaving with affronted virtue.
"An' now I'll be goin'," he said suddenly and twisted, agile as an eel, out of our grasp and out of the boat.
"Nay!" I cried. "Beshrew me if I allow you to leave it at that!" and I leapt out into the water after him.
"Hi!" shouted the Prince, the boat rocking madly with all this activity.
The water was only chest high, but I was hampered by my long gown. Still, he also seemed to be floundering and I managed to throw my arms around his waist. An immediate explosion of gold dust into the river revealed the reason for his sluggish movements; every pocket was weighted down with the heavy metal. However hard he struggled, I refused to let him go. The Geese clustered about and bit him and the Prince smacked him smartly on the skull with one of the oars and cried: "Halt, sirrah, and explain yourself!"
Finally Smeatt shouted, "I yield! Let me go and I'll give it back!"
Surprised, I slackened my grip a little.
"Here! Here it be! Take it back!"
He rummaged about on his person and then thrust something small and cold into my hand.
"I ain't got the rest o' the jewels no more so there be no point in askin' fer 'em. An' I see you gots the crown already, so that's it. We do be quits. Now let me go!" And with a violent wrench which tipped me over onto the muddy bottom, he escaped my hold and lurched up out of the water and onto the bank, the Geese screaming and flapping in pursuit.
Over the sloshing of water and indignant shrieks of the Geese we could hear wafted back to us on the wind: "Sor-r-e-e-e, lay-d-e-e-e!"
Having swallowed a goodly quantity of water, I was in no position to join the chase. Coughing and sputtering, I struggled back to the boat and rested for a moment, hanging onto the gunwale. When I had recovered, I towed the row-boat closer to shore where I might more easily board. The Geese returned without Smeatt as I clambered inside, wet to the skin for the second time in an hour.
"What did he give you?" the Prince inquired.
Rather curious about that myself, I opened my hand. On it lay a golden ring with a ver
y large ruby embedded in it. The Prince and I stared at it for a moment in silence, mystified.
"He said something about your crown," said the Prince slowly. "'Tis true enough that ruby jewelry does seem to be seeking you out of late. First a crown, then a necklace, now a ring. Where do you suppose he got this ring?"
Scornfully I curled my lip. "From the sound of it, I should say that some unfortunate lady gave it to him to prevent him from murdering her and her charges."
The Prince looked up at me. "I know naught of your family, Mistress Alexandria, save that they are dead. Could this lady have been your mother, and you one of the children?"
I shook my head. "Nay 'Tis a case of mistaken identity. I was born in that small cottage where you and the King found me, and never ventured farther away than ten or twelve miles at most in all the years of my life before you took me to the tower. So my mother told me, and so I remember. Besides, who were the other children? I am the only child of my parents.
"Methinks the lady was a governess with her pupils, perchance," I continued. "According to Smeatt's tale there were too many to have been the lady's daughters. They were no doubt the offspring of several families, all being taught by the same schoolmistress. Where she obtained the ring I cannot say, but mayhap it belonged to one of her students who was of noble birth."
"Put it on," urged the Prince.
"No, sire, 'tis not mine. I wonder what happened to the poor young lady who bought her life with it? It ought to be on her finger, not mine. I will not wear it."
Little Echo, who had up to this moment been sitting quietly on the Prince's lap, now started up an enormous ado.
"Kee-wonk! Kee-wonk! Kee-wonk!" she called, sounding more like a braying donkey than a well-bred Goose.
"What is it, Little Echo? Does aught pain you?" asked the Prince, bending tenderly over her and stroking her ruffled feathers.
At this Little Echo seemed to become even more agitated. She went so far as to hiss at the Prince, who laughed and said, in a sickening falsetto voice, "And is it in a naughty temper? Does it want to—Ow! Bad girl! No biting!"
"Let me look at her wound," I said, slipping the ring into my bag, where I could hear it clink against the twelve Goose crowns. Little Echo, however, was yet behaving like a spoilt little awp and 'twas something of a tussle before I was able to examine her damaged wing.
"It looks much better," I was saying, when the Prince interrupted.
"Hush," he said. "Look there."
We were at present drifting past Clove City. 'Twas a town of fair size and population. Beyond it loomed an enormous hulk which looked disturbingly familiar. I groaned.
"But we have been traveling for hours!" I protested. "That cannot be the Castle of Breakabeen."
"I ought to have realized," the Prince said somberly. "A town of the magnitude of Clove City would never have been situated so far away from the castle which protects it. We have been occupied for the past hour and a half, for 'tis no longer, I believe, in rounding this great spit of land around which the river flows. We are scarcely more than half an hour on foot from the castle. I wondered why no one seemed to be pursuing us by water. They had only to cross the neck of the headland in order to cut us off."
I was silent, scanning the shoreline for evidence that this last statement was true.
I reached out a cold, damp hand and touched the Prince's.
"O look there," I whispered.
There were soldiers on the wharf that jutted out into the river, and they were speedily piling into boats. But that is not all that chilled my blood. Behind the sailors, in a long line, were posts rising up eight feet from the ground, normally used for the drying and mending of fishing nets. And on each post, suspended from large iron hooks, dangled a hanged man. Or woman. 'Twas too distant to tell the sex.
"Row!" commanded the Prince. "Sit you down next to me and we will row together, using all our might. They will come up with us in an instant, if we do not make haste."
With a will, I flung myself down on the bench beside him and gripped the oar in both hands.
"Ready?" asked the Prince. "Down stroke!"
We found our rhythm quickly and rowed as smooth as silk together; the little boat seemed to leap over the waves. Alas! 'Twas in vain. However swiftly we moved, our pursuers moved yet more swiftly. One boat possessed several sets of oarlocks and several rowers, and another raised a sail.
"Smeatt knew this," I grunted, as my oar dug deep into the river. "No wonder he wished to leave us before we came abreast of Clove City. So much for his fine words."
"Tis not worth thinking of, Mistress Alexandria," said the Prince calmly. "Tis the sort of man he is, that is all."
"True," I assented. "What shall we do?" The other boats were approaching fast.
"Whatever we must," answered the Prince. "One thing you shall not do is to attempt to save me at your own expense. 'Twill not serve and I shall not permit it. Do you understand me?"
"I do, my lord," I said meekly. A spirit of mischief overcame me, even at this grave moment. "What," I gasped out as we swung our oars overhead, "became of your promise to obey me in all things?"
"Release me then from my bond, for 1 will otherwise fling myself into the river to be drowned or speared like a fish, rather than do aught that would harm you, mistress."
"You are released, then," I said, privately thinking that his bond had not been worth a great deal, thus far. And yet I would not have said so for all the world, for I was much moved by his words.
They overtook us in a matter of moments. We offered no resistance; it seemed pointless. I had no desire to get wetted through once again, and there truly was no hope for escape. In any case, I was tired of escaping. 'Twas all I seemed to be doing lately.
The two lead boats surrounded us, one on each side. A soldier climbed gingerly into our boat and tied us up once again, this time both hand and foot. Rather than attempt to convey our trussed-up bodies into one of their boats, they made our boat fast to both of theirs and towed us along, the soldier remaining with us to help speed our journey by rowing.
To my surprise, we did not head for Clove City and those dreadful dangling corpses, but rather continued on downstream.
"Where are we going?" I asked the soldier when once our direction had become evident.
Like most of his kind, he disliked being questioned by a prisoner. He looked at me briefly and then away, rowing hard. When I persisted, he reluctantly replied: "Roseboom," and snapped shut his mouth, merely shaking his head when I inquired further.
"The King," I murmured softly to the Prince, "will certainly be with his army in Dorloo, will he not? I wonder why they bring us to Roseboom."
The Prince shook his head. "The Baroness no doubt summoned him back to Gilboa when she realized who we were. We are prisoners of some importance, I fear. Important enough to warrant the King's personal attention."
So we were, then, to be taken before the King.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
In Which We Travel to the King's Court
A PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHT.
—JOHN HEYWOOD, PROVERBS
Our craft moved swiftly downstream, ever closer to the great city of Roseboom and the King's castle. The Prince took my bound hands in his and I will confess that I derived some comfort from that fact, for I was sore afraid. We did not speak, but sat gazing out at the sunlit lands which slowly uncurled and stretched out before us. When once this river journey was done, I doubted that we should either of us ever see daylight again. I had escaped the King once and he was unlikely to allow me to do so a second time. And as for the Prince—
Until the King's treasury was filled to bursting with riches, until not one more thimbleful of gold dust or diamonds could be crammed in howsoever hard the King's seneschals tried, there was ample reason to keep me alive. What reason was there for keeping the Prince alive? Why, none at all. Nay, there was every reason to send him to his death, and the sooner the better.
The Queen of Dorloo was long since d
ead and the King of Dorloo was ailing. As rumor had it and the Prince had confirmed, his father was addled in his brains. Naught save the Prince's life stood in the way of the prompt annexation of Dorloo into Gilboa.
My hands tightened on the Prince's.
"My father is dead," he murmured. "Did you know?"
"No!" I cried.
"They told me of it on the second day in the dungeon. He died of an apoplectic fit, it seems, when his ministers were at last able to make him understand that the King's army was battering at the very castle gates and that no one knew where I was."
I was silent for a moment. Then I said, "Mayhap they lie. It might not be true."
He frowned and whispered fiercely, "I want it to be true."
Startled, I turned and stared at my gentle Prince.
"But why, sire?"
"Otherwise the King of Gilboa would have dragged him out and humiliated him in front of our people before executing him. As 'tis, they have displayed his severed head on a pike over the castle gatehouse." He flinched and closed his eyes. A single tear trickled down his cheek. "He was very good to me always, even in these last few years, when as like as not he did not recognize me. He was a kind man."
We sat quiet, watching my Geese swimming serenely alongside us.
"Now he need never have to live with the knowledge that he fathered a fool," said the Prince.
"O, sire, you must not—"
"Must I not?" he demanded. "I think I must."
A load of guilt settled like an iron band over my heart.
"If 'twere not for me—" I began.
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