'Twas a lovely bath, even though my doom, and the Prince's doom, were slowly, inexorably closing over our heads. The Geese enjoyed it too. They took turns joining me in the bath, which was perfectly enormous. We splashed one another and scrubbed and preened and finally hopped out again, all pink (me) and white (the Geese) and smelling like a gardenful of flowers (everyone in the room—we had managed to get the three maidservants rather damp too).
When we were out, we set about dressing in our wedding finery. I explained to the maidservants that the King wished the Geese to be present in their gowns and crowns. They cried out in wonderment over the little dresses and crowns, and then shyly approached the Geese to offer to assist them in dressing.
Much to my amazement, the Geese submitted to these attentions, standing quite still and behaving with perfect decorum while the young women slipped the dresses onto their bodies and placed the crowns neatly on their heads.
"Why, thou fickle flock of fowl! Thou wert never so mannerly for me!" I cried. But by then the women had turned to me and were holding the great golden gown up over my head, and my displeasure was smothered in heavy folds of cloth of gold.
When the dress was smoothed down over my form and my hair combed out (and the gold dust collected—the King had left very specific orders about that), the serving women sighed with pleasure.
"Look! Look how beautiful!" And they pulled a large looking glass out of the corner for me to see.
I made a face at the girl in the mirror. What was my beauty to me but a curse and a burden? Tho' I must concede that I looked positively ravishing. My hair, stupid thing, was evidently delighted to be going to a feast and had added some touches of its own. It had grown several feet, so that it reached the floor. Tiny roses and little yellow starlike flowers had appeared, woven through my locks and held by slender golden ribands.
My gown fitted me like a glove. The collar, stiff with embroidery, fanned out regally about my neck, while my bosom was partly exposed, the neckline swooping down prettily in a way which would perfectly show off the ruby necklace.
My attendants were grieved that my Geese should have crowns and I have none, but I assured them that the King was retaining my jewelry and would no doubt be using the ring for the wedding ceremony and the crown for my coro nation as Queen. Satisfied, they let me go. They pulled the heavy chair away from the doorway, and I, treading as lightly as I might, warily peeked through the doorway.
Immediately, my arm was grasped by the Baroness and I was dragged into the outer chamber. I was beginning to be annoyed by this behavior, which seemed to be becoming a habit with Her Ladyship. I snatched my arm back, at some risk of tearing my sleeve.
"You wished to speak with me, madam?" I asked coldly.
The Baroness fixed me with a steely eye.
"Have you told him yet?"
"Have I told who what yet, Your Ladyship?" I asked.
"Have you told the King your name, you fool!"
The subject of my name also seemed to be becoming something of an obsession with the Baroness.
"No," I said, neglecting to add the customary title of honor.
"Then do not," she replied. "As you value your life, do not do so."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Marriage Threatens
WEDDING IS DESTINY,
AND HANGING LIKEWISE.
—JOHN HEYWOOD, PROVERBS
I folded my golden arms under my golden bosom and tapped a glass-slippered toe.
"And why, pray tell, should I believe that my death would be disagreeable to you, my lady? In short, why should I trust you?"
The Baroness clenched her teeth and balled her fists, the very image of frustration.
"Because ... because—O very well! I will do something for you if you promise not to tell him. Something you will like."
Hope, never long absent from my heart, began cautiously to rise again.
"What manner of thing might that be, Your Ladyship?"
"You love that bumbling blatteroon, the Prince of Dorloo, do you not?"
"No, certainly not," I said, offended. '"Twas only a tale I told to prevent you from guessing at his identity."
"That is not the tale your face told as you watched him being marched off this very afternoon."
"Your eyes are playing tricks on you, Baroness," I said firmly. "But get on with it. What favor had you in mind which involves the Prince of Dorloo?"
The Baroness fell silent for a moment. At last she said, "I will say no more than that I think that I can save his life." She closed her lips and folded her arms in turn. We faced one another, considering.
"You are in a position to set him free?" I asked.
"I believe so. I cannot be certain. There is ever an element of hazard in these affairs. If I do not succeed, you are free to say what you will."
I opened my mouth to accept, but then thoughts of self intruded and I bargained: "And myself also. You must let me go as well. Come, madam, you must see that if I am gone from here I cannot break my share of the contract. And I shall take great care never to meet up with the King again, I do assure you!"
But I spoke without any great confidence, for she started shaking her head almost as soon as I began to utter.
"No, no, no. I could not possibly free you both. I should be hanging a noose around my own neck. I am taking the utmost risk as it is."
"Very well," I sighed. "So be it."
Eagerly, she said, "You will need a name for the marriage certificate. What shall you say?"
"I care not," said I wearily. "You choose."
The Baroness cogitated. "Wilhelmina Frump," she suggested in the end.
"As you wish," I said. It made no odds to me; everyone would no doubt call me "Your Highness" in any case. I should not have the name "Wilhelmina Frump" ringing in my ears down all the days of my (brief) life.
"Let me give the signal then to my confederate below and he will go and do what he can to free the Prince." She went to the barred window and leaned out, making one forceful gesture, apparently to someone standing below. I followed her over and tried to see who 'twas, but whoever he might have been, he dodged out of sight too swiftly for me to see clearly.
"We must go down now," said the Baroness. "The King has sent for you twice already."
I bowed my head in acquiescence and we started for the outer door. She halted.
"O, I quite nearly forgot. I have something for you. It appears to be naught but a bit of trash, but the old hag was quite insistent, so if you wish it—" She rummaged about in the purse of her chatelaine as she spoke and at last held out a tiny packet, wrapped up with a bit of coarse sacking and twine.
"The old hag?" I queried, taking it from her. "Which old hag was that?"
"O, a queer old creature—she looked to be a hundred and twenty at the least, as shrunken and withered as a pumpkin in the springtime. Her nose and chin were so long they nearly met." The Baroness thought further, as a wild speculation was born in my brain. "O yes! She whistled as she spoke, because she possessed only two enormous teeth. Do you know her? Perhaps she is your mother," the Baroness suggested spitefully.
I replied that yes, I believed I did know who she was and that no, she was not my mother.
"She said that you were to drink the potion in that packet dissolved in a glass of wine just before your marriage ceremony. I imagine 'tis supposed to be some good luck potion. I do not know that I would obey, myself. That cloth looks rather grubby."
This was rather good coming from the Baroness, I thought, as the bosom of her dress was liberally spotted with grease stains and what appeared to be flecks of mustard and fried egg.
"Mayhap I should drink it now," I mused aloud.
"There is no time, and no wine to drink it with," she objected.
I nodded, concealed the little package in my left hand, and we left the room together.
There was a great crush of people gathered down below in the banqueting hall. Dinner had been put off, and a good number of people wer
e therefore going hungry, awaiting the conclusion of my bath. An excellent way to be introduced to my new subjects.
Ah well. What did it matter? 'Twas the King's ill humor that would rule my days, not that of anyone else in this room.
My Geese and I walked down the central staircase, not without some difficulty. The stair risers were not designed with Goose bodies in mind, and 'twas necessary for them to hop from step to step. This, combined with the fact that they were all decked out in their fine clothes, caused a smile to rise to the lips of many of those present.
We were led up to the King, where he sat at the head of the U-shaped table, toying with a large, ripe pear. As I watched, he held his little silver dagger between thumb and middle finger and playfully stabbed the fruit to the heart, several times.
He looked up as I approached and examined me from head to toe. He looked at the Geese, dressed in their regal garb, and snorted loudly. Then he shifted his regard back to me again. He nodded. "Quite an improvement, Goose Girl, though I will say that you looked better in river silt and rags than any maid I have ever seen before."
He turned to the assembled company and bared his pointed teeth in a dreadful smile.
"What think you all? Is she not every inch a Queen?"
"Indeed she is, sire!" trumpeted the entire party in one voice.
"And what think you of your new vassals, my dearest one?"
"You seem to have them well trained," I said coolly. "But then, you do hold the whip, do you not?" I had no particular desire to show the King a subservient face yet; I would wait for that until the whip descended upon my own back.
The crowd did not like my words. Many reddened; some with anger, but more, I think, with shame. The King, however, appeared to be delighted.
"A maid of spirit," he crowed joyfully. "What a prize have I captured!" He beckoned me forward. "Take this necklace on your wedding night, my sweet, as a gift from your husband-to-be." He held out the Ogresses' necklace. I took it and clasped it around my neck and then looked at my crown, which still lay on the table with the ruby ring. "These are to be yours hereafter, but not just at present," he said, closing his hand upon them. I shrugged and turned away.
The King now caught sight of the Baroness. "Come here, Lady Griselda, and rejoice with us. Have a glass of wine and drink a toast to our happiness. Everyone must drink a toast to our happiness. Steward!" I myself wondered if he had not already drunk a few toasts to our happiness while waiting for me. He seemed a bit exhilarated, though not intoxicated. He gestured to the steward, who set the servants circulating among the crowd with goblets of wine.
The King took three goblets from a silver salver and offered wine to the Baroness and myself.
"Here you are, Lady Griselda. Or Piggy, if I may be allowed to revive the dear old nickname." She took the wine, obviously just barely managing to restrain herself from biting the hand that proffered it. "And for my lovely bride—what, by the by, is your name? The priest is bound to want to know."
The Baroness shot a commanding glance in my direction and obediently I responded, "Wilhelmina Frump, my lord."
"Wilhelmina Frump? Really? I would never have thought it. Tis of no moment, however. I shall never call you by it. Will you have some wine?"
"Since your majesty asks, I would rather have that pear, if you do not want it. I have had naught to eat today and am faint with hunger."
The King granted me rights to the mutilated pear with a stately wave of the hand. "Take this wine as well. 'Twill revive you. I don't want you swooning at the altar."
I snatched up the pear as quickly as was consistent with the behavior of a lady and greedily consumed it down to the last bite. A most important-looking cleric dressed in flowing robes approached the King and began discussing some detail of our wedding with him. Unobtrusively I moved a little apart from them. If I was to be bound body and soul to the King tonight I would savor what liberty I still possessed.
Had the Prince, I wondered, gotten aught to eat before being turned loose to make his way to freedom the best way that he might? I sighed. Most likely he had not. Still, with any luck, he was now free, while all I had was a pear and a glass of wine. There was no need to consider me unduly blessed.
As I thought this last thought, I heard the Prince's voice directly behind me. I froze like a rabbit under the hunter's gaze. What he had said I could not be certain, but the voice that spoke in answer was familiar to me as well.
"O no, no, sir! Come away at once," moaned Smeatt. Their voices, while near at hand, were oddly muffled. "Tis most dreadful dangerous for ye here, I swear it! That lady means ye no good, but the most dreadful harm!"
"How dare you, Smeatt?" demanded the Prince loudly. I flinched, but no one else in the hubbub about us appeared to remark aught unusual.
"O, hush, sir, do!"
"That lady," continued the Prince, lowering his voice somewhat, "is the truest and bravest in all the world. Retract those words, Smeatt."
"Not that one! T'other one. That there Baroness. O, she's a subtle one, she is. Caught me afore I'd walked twenty paces ashore this mornin', an' sent me to steal ye out o' the dungeon an' kill ye in the woods, somewheres private, like. Why, I dunno, but she do be so subtle as a snake. An' o'course, seein' as how I've got that kind heart and ye have promised me that trunkful of gold—"
"I understand. Say no more." And happily, the two of them fell silent. After a few moments I turned casually around to see if I could observe them without myself being observed. Immediately I saw a large, lumpy bulge in the tapestry on the wall, from the bottom of which extended two pair of booted feet.
Little Echo also evidently had noticed this bulge, for she made for it with glad cries and, ducking her head under the tapestry, quickly wriggled her way back into the Prince's arms.
I removed myself from the vicinity of the bulge as rapidly as I might, having no desire to draw attention to this odd new feature of the wall hangings of the King's banqueting room. As I went, I considered the many things I should have to say to His Majesty the King of Dorloo if I ever got the chance. Imagine giving up a chance to escape like that! He and Smeatt and Little Echo were almost certain to be caught and executed on the spot.
The King chose this moment to break off his conversation with the distinguished cleric and, having ascertained to his satisfaction that his guests had the necessary fluids with which to drink to our eternal bliss, prepared to propose a toast. Strictly speaking, of course, he ought not to have done it—etiquette demands that another make the gesture—but the King was not the sort to care for that.
Forgetting for a moment his role as doting fiancé, he snapped his fingers at me and pointed at the floor next to his feet, thereby indicating that I had best move to my proper place by his side. I did so.
"...And so I ask you, my loyal subjects, to drink to the long and fruitful reign of King Claudio the Cruel and Queen—What was your name again? O, never mind, it doesn't signify—Queen Whatsit here." Here he placed my crown upon my head and everyone bowed or curtsied, as the case might be.
I was paying little attention to this, but rather was occupied in watching the Baroness without appearing to do so. As she, I realized, was likewise watching me without appearing to do so.
When the company raised their glasses and drank, I did not raise mine. When the Baroness saw that, she lowered her own glass untasted.
"Why do you not drink to our happiness, Goose Girl, er, Queen?" enquired the King.
"'Tis not genteel for the subjects of a toast to drink to it," I said priggishly.
"Why, then," said the Baroness, "I will propose a toast to which you can drink with perfect propriety." She smirked evilly at me. "To the health of King Claudio the Cruel. May he live long!"
"I will drink to that!" said the King, and did so, but watched to see that I did so also.
I raised my glass and drank. The Baroness and all the guests followed suit.
The Baroness dropped her cup to the floor, half drained, and the cont
ents splashed like blood on the stones. She raised one hand to her throat, one to her mouth. She staggered, and then sank to the floor.
"I am ill," she gasped.
At that moment, I felt a mighty tug on my gown. I looked down and saw that 'twas Ernestina, and in her mouth was the ruby ring which in the momentary confusion she must have stolen from the table before the King.
"O, Ernestina, not now," I whispered, for 'twas in my mind to make our escape with those three behind the tapestry while everyone gathered about the Baroness.
Ernestina's eyes narrowed and she hissed. All the Geese save Little Echo gathered in a circle about me and advanced, hissing and clacking their bills in a threatening manner.
I hissed right back, "Stop! Stop it this moment! We must away!"
Alberta approached and grasped my left hand in her bill, the hand that had had the potion in it. That hand was empty now.
She pushed my hand toward the ring Ernestina held, but neither had the dexterity to slip the ring onto my third finger, where evidently they wished it to go.
"O, very well," I snapped, as we had already lost this heaven-sent opportunity. The Baroness, still gulping like a fish and clutching at her throat, was propped up on a serving woman's knee. People were beginning to look about themselves and call for a toad steeped in vinegar to revive the victim, or some leeches, or mayhap some goat droppings in wine.
I snatched the ring away from Ernestina and crammed it onto my finger, which it perfectly fit. I placed my hands on my hips and demanded angrily: "And what, pray tell, happens now, O my Geese?"
And never, ever, after that moment was my world the same.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
In Which Fowl Is Now Fair
BEATEN WITH HIS OWN ROD.
—JOHN HEYWOOD, PROVERBS
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