Once Upon the Rainbow, Volume Two

by Jennifer Cosgrove

  “But how?”

  “A little patience and a little bread. They’ll be hungry in short order.” Clara reached into her basket and took out one of the precious rolls of bread. She tore it into pieces and placed them on the ground in a pile.

  “Clever,” said the woman. “Now I suppose we must wait and see?”

  “Yes,” said Clara.

  HENRYK WAITED IN line at the palace. His place in line was so far back that he could see the base of the staircase leading up the palace and nothing more. A stream of people went into the palace and a scattering of people would dribble out of it every few minutes. The line moved slowly. After a few hours, Henryk found himself at the first stair.

  He had been watching the people around him since there was little else to do while waiting. Most waited quietly. A few conversed. One old woman stood out. She wore a dark red cape and had a thick mass of gray hair swirling around her face. All he could see of her was a gnarled nose and arthritic hands.

  She wasn’t waiting in the line. She roved around the people with a basket of small trinkets. She moved slowly and stiffly, and Henryk thought perhaps she was hobbled. Rarely someone would buy what she offered. Most ignored her. A few spoke harshly to her and scolded her for wasting their time. Henryk wondered what time she could possibly waste that wasn’t already being spent standing in a line that would never reach their destination. Yet, she persisted.

  Near suppertime, the old woman stumbled. She went down on her knees and her basket went flying. The contents tumbled over the stones.

  Henryk bolted from his place in line, feeling the spot swallowed up by the man waiting behind him.

  “Here, Granny, let me help you. Are you hurt?” Henryk reached for the old woman. She felt brittle and light beneath his hands, and he recalled that she had not made much money in all the time he’d watched her.

  “I’m all right. Let me catch my breath.” The old woman rolled into a sitting position and looked at him. Past her gnarled nose and wrinkled skin, her eyes were clear and bright.

  “Wait a moment and I’ll gather your things.” Henryk stooped to pick up the trinkets and put them back into her basket. He found seashells, pinecones, pretty blue stones, simple carved wooden whistles, scraps of cloth, dried flowers, and other inexpensive items. “Nothing broken.”

  “You’re very kind,” she said.

  Henryk felt the weight of the few coins in his pocket. He’d lost his place in the line for the rest of today. He had no studies to return to until the prince was restored to health, or tragedy followed and the prince died. There was cold porridge at home, and Henryk suspected this woman didn’t even have that.

  “Not at all,” Henryk said. “I came over to purchase something. I could use a whistle.” He pulled out his coins and pressed them into her hands. “Is this enough for one of them?”

  The old woman’s eyes seemed to twinkle at him. “Very kind indeed. You’ll do nicely.” She reached up to undo the toggle at her neck and loosened the red cloak she wore. She tugged it off and held it out to Henryk. “Take my coat. You’ll need it tonight. I’ll collect it from you tomorrow.”

  “Oh no, Granny, I couldn’t. You’ll be cold without your cloak.”

  “You’re going to have need of it.” She took both his hands in hers. Her skin was paper thin and soft against his. “When you pull the hood up, you’ll be invisible. Now, keep that to yourself until you use it.”

  “Granny—” Henryk started to speak when a dark shadow fell over them both. He looked up to see two of the palace guards towering over them.

  “You there,” said the first guard. “Back in line.”

  Henryk twisted his head to check on the line. His spot no longer existed. He might as well go home for the night and try again tomorrow.

  The old woman reached for the hand of the guard. “Oh, sir. He lost his spot when he came to help me. If you send him back to the line, he’ll be at the very end of it. Can’t you help him after what he did?”

  The expression of the second guard became more kindly as he gauged the words of the old woman. “I suppose.”

  “Not that it matters because not a single person has been of any use, but we’ll bring you to the front. Get up and moving.” The first guard put a meaty paw on Henryk’s shoulder and hauled him in the direction of the front of the line.

  “Take the cloak.” The old woman pushed the red cloak into Henryk’s arms. “Remember what I told you.”

  Henryk went with the guards. He couldn’t quite believe his good fortune in being brought to the front of the line. The guards guided him forward, and Henryk caught glimpses of faces in the line turned toward him, some curious and some furious.

  “In here.” The first guard shoved him toward a small door to the side of the larger entry gate where the official line ended. Henryk ducked his head as he went through the door. Inside, he found himself on a small landing with stairs that went up and down. The guards directed him with a push to climb the stairs.

  Two flights up, the second guard pulled open a door in the wall. “Here we go.”

  Henryk walked through and found himself in a small chamber. Two women and a man were inside.

  “Send them all home for the evening. It’s done for tonight. I haven’t the stamina to talk to any more of them. We’ll start again first thing in the morning.” The woman speaking paused and looked at Henryk. She raised an eyebrow and then looked to the guards. “Who is this?”

  “Special circumstances, Your Highness. Bit of a muddle about him helping an old crone and losing his place in the line, so we brought him in. Figured you would want to give him the quick once-over and send him on his way.” The second guard waved a hand at Henryk.

  Henryk realized he was in the presence of the prince’s older sister, Princess Jacobina. She was not quite what he’d expected. She was tall and sturdy, not at all the delicate waif he’d been led to believe. Her dark brown eyes flashed with intelligence.

  He gave her a deep bow. “I’m honored to be here.”

  “Oh all right, I suppose. One more.” Princess Jacobina motioned Henryk to a chair, and then she sat directly across from him in another. “Please sit. I haven’t time for all the usual royal formalities. You’ve responded to my mother’s summons. Tell me your name and what makes you knowledgeable and able to cure my brother.”

  Henryk paused. He’d had hours while in line to figure out what he might say. Now that the moment had come, he found the glib sentences he’d practiced to be impossible to utter.

  “My name is Henryk Hammond. To be honest, Your Highness, I don’t know. I’m not a wealthy man. I’m young and without much experience. My training is in the law, not medicine.”

  Princess Jacobina’s expression hardened, but she continued to listen.

  “But I am deeply motivated to help. I very much want for the prince to revive and come back to us.” An idea occurred to Henryk, and he spoke it out loud before he could think twice. “It is difficult to know what is wrong about something without observing it. Since you were at the end of the day and it doesn’t appear you’ve found someone yet, I would suggest allowing me to observe the prince for the night. I have been a student for years now and am quite practiced at learning new things. I can offer you a very different type of perspective than any of the others you’ve hired so far. It may be that by morning I will have some insight, some new learning that others with too much knowledge don’t even realize they are skipping over. Even something small might be useful and would help you find the right sort of healer.”

  “Oh, pish posh,” said the man standing to Princess Jacobina’s right. His long robes perfectly echoed his long face. “Send him off.” He waved at the guards, and the first guard stepped forward to grab Henryk by the arm.

  “Hold, please,” said Princess Jacobina.

  The guard stepped back.

  “You’re the first person to come in here today and not instantly expound on your greatness. It’s refreshing even if it isn’t very hearte
ning. But I haven’t any other ideas for the moment, so there can be no harm done if you spend the night watching over my brother.” She swiveled her head to the Pish-Posh Man. “With guards for company, of course, Lars.”

  Lars sniffed.

  “Come with me. I’ll show you to my brother’s rooms.” Princess Jacobina slid gracefully off her chair and started out of the room.

  Henryk, flanked by the two guards, hurried after.

  “I THINK I saw movement. Maybe an ear. Over there by the stump.” Clara nodded to the spot but didn’t point.

  The little mice were skittish and afraid. Clara caught glimpses of them, but none had dared to come close enough to nibble the bread. The two mice originally captured had chewed away another of the rolls Clara left in the basket and were now sleeping curled up on top of each other. Clara had wisely removed the pumpernickel loaf and the remaining rolls. When the mice-catching business was finished, she needed to go home and attend to cleaning and figuring out how to survive another day.

  “I see him too. I believe he’s about to be brave.”

  Clara and the other woman remained still as they waited for the mouse to creep up to the roll. When he finally did, Clara scooped him up and put him in the basket with a large chunk of the bread. He chewed at it happily and didn’t seem concerned to be in the basket. Clara conceded it was strange behavior for a mouse. Perhaps they were originally men and horses after all.

  “That’s three.” The lady seemed satisfied. “I do believe we will collect them all by the end of the day. I hope so. After that, I’ll have to see if I can find some way to get them turned back.”

  “Which ones are the men and which ones are the horses, do you think?” Clara asked. She looked down into the basket. The three white mice looked nearly identical.

  “I don’t know. That’s why I want to make sure we rescue all of them. It’ll be terribly difficult to hire more help if I gain the reputation that they’ll be transformed into mice.” The lady flashed a smile. “As well, I think they’d prefer to be themselves again.”

  “What did you say to the woman you met to make her upset enough that she cursed your men and carriage?” The enormous pumpkin was visible from where Clara sat.

  The more she looked at it, the more ridiculous it seemed as it sat in the middle of the road. Orange and round, the pumpkin stuck out like a smear of bright paint against the shadowed gray brown of the dirt road. It certainly wouldn’t have been easy to bring it there. Doing so would have required a wheelbarrow at least.

  “My son is ill, and I received advice to come here looking for a witch that would know a potion to cure him. It’s quite difficult to find people in this forest. None of the roads are labeled, what few roads there are. And they tend to peter out when you least expect it and turn into walking paths that aren’t wide enough for a carriage. When we saw the woman in the road, naturally we stopped to ask her if she knew where the witch might live.” The woman smoothed down her blouse, and Clara caught a glimpse of sparkle. The woman wore beautiful jewels on her fingers.

  “Naturally,” said Clara.

  “I suppose she may have taken exception to the fact that we did ask her if she were the witch herself.” The woman chuckled. “Which turned out to be at least partially true. If not the exact person I was seeking, she at least had enough power to transform my entourage.”

  “It does have a certain logic to it,” Clara said.

  “But what about you? I’m incredibly grateful for your help. How did you come to be traveling along the path?” The woman leaned forward with interest that seemed sincere.

  “I was delivering pies to Mr. Paloma who lives down the lane a little ways. I was on my way back into town when I saw you.” Clara checked on the three mice in her basket. The third one snuggled in with the other two and all were asleep. “I’m so sorry to hear your son is ill. I have three stepsons of my own, and they are always getting into something. It’s been a trial by fire sometimes! Tell me what your son’s symptoms are. Maybe I will know something about it.”

  The woman’s face became pinched with worry. “He is lethargic. He sleeps all day and all night. He is constantly weary and hardly ever eats anything. His muscles are weak and his feet are especially bruised. He cries out if we try to make him stand or walk. I am at my wit’s end. I left my daughter home to watch over him so I could look for the witch, but I worry even more when I am away.”

  Clara thought about the symptoms. “It’s nothing I’ve ever heard of before. I’m sorry.”

  “No one has. I’ve asked many people, and they offer suggestions as if they know what ails him. None of them were the least bit right.”

  “It’s good you have your daughter to look after things while you’re away. I wish I’d had a daughter.”

  “You’re young yet, perhaps you may.”

  “Oh no. My husband died recently. I’ve been left to take care of his sons, who are almost grown, but this was already a second marriage for me. I’ve been widowed twice. To look for a third? Well, I imagine any prospective husbands might be wary of their health.” Clara crumbled some of the bread slightly farther away from the initial pile. The remaining mice were also wary of her. “Not that I mind being without a husband. I don’t think I particularly enjoy their company.” Clara stopped and flushed. She hadn’t meant to be quite that revealing.

  Her companion looked thoughtful. “Indeed. As you say. Husbands can be a matter of convenience. I think I know what you mean.” She reached out and patted Clara’s hand. “You see, I’m also a widow.”

  “My condolences,” Clara said. A dead husband, a sick son, a carriage turned into a pumpkin, and servants turned into mice. The lady was wealthy, but she had also fallen onto difficult times. Clara’s heart ached for her circumstances.

  “Thank you. He was a good man. Even if we weren’t in love, we were compatible. I did my duty as necessary. I’m not unhappy to be without the encumbrance of the marriage. It feels good to be free, perhaps to finally find my own love, even if I do regret that he died.”

  The words as spoken were so similar to what was hidden in Clara’s heart that she stared at her new friend. “Duty?” she asked, grasping on to the least dangerous of the admissions.

  She wanted to hear more. A small part of her flared to life at the hope that she did understand what had been spoken, but the rest of her remained stubborn and deaf. It couldn’t be possible. Even a small ember of hope would hurt. It was better not to think these sorts of thoughts.

  “He needed children, and one of them had to be a son. My daughter was born first and then my son. After that, we no longer needed to share a bed. Oh, be still! Here comes another of my men. I mean, mice.” The lady flashed a brilliant smile at Clara.

  Clara caught sight of the mouse as it tucked itself behind a small branch and worried at one of its paws. It clearly wanted the bread but was uncertain of moving forward. Clara knew its feeling intimately.

  She turned over the lady’s words in her mind. There was something familiar about her circumstances, and it tugged at Clara’s memory. Had she missed an important detail during this whole time they sat together? Waiting for the mice to creep out of their hiding places meant tedium, and she had spent some time daydreaming and not listening as closely as she should have. She looked away from the mouse to gaze upon the woman. Old enough to be a mother, yet her looks had not faded. Her dark brown hair fell in glossy waves, and her eyes held sharp intelligence from within her pretty face. Soft lines around her mouth and eyes revealed she smiled and laughed frequently and kindly.

  She had rings on her fingers and her dress was of silk. She’d come into the forest with five servants and a carriage. Clara’s family had been modest, and although she’d married well, she’d ended up poor because of her husband’s philanthropy and accumulated debts. She couldn’t imagine how wealthy one had to be to have so many servants. Perhaps extremely wealthy.

  The little mouse finally crept toward the bread and stuffed a morsel in his mouth
. Clara reached down and picked him up. He was warm in her hand and she could feel his heart beating. Or perhaps it was her own heart she heard in her ears. She gently lowered him into the basket with a chunk of bread. He seemed relieved to have found the other mice and scurried over to them.

  “I don’t believe we introduced ourselves to each other. I’m Clara.”

  The lady lowered her chin in a coquettish move. “Please call me Almarine. I don’t think we’ll need titles between us.”

  “PLEASE TAKE CARE to be quiet. My brother is probably sleeping, and I hate to disturb him. He is always tired.” Princess Jacobina slowly opened the door to her brother’s room. The two guards at the entrance moved silently away to allow her entry.

  Henryk followed her in. The room was dim and cool. Fresh air and a scant amount of sunlight streamed in through one window left cracked open. The room itself contained little. A few chairs, a small table, a wardrobe, a rug on the floor to cover the cold stones, and a bed. On the bed was a figure covered in blankets. For the moment, Henryk could see the tousled top of his head and nothing else but the suggested shape of a body. Prince and Princess had the same dark hair.

  “I will return for you in the morning. At least one guard will be here with you at all times.” Princess Jacobina crossed the room to stand close to the bed.

  The two guards accompanying them nodded their understanding.

  “While you sit your vigil, if you need something, you may request it. I’ll have some supper brought in for you.” She looked down at her brother, and an emotion flashed across her face.

  For a moment, Henryk could see past her business air to the compassionate sister who cared for her brother’s health. He could read genuine concern on Princess Jacobina’s face. She worried about her brother, and to Henryk’s eye, it seemed because he was her brother, not the sibling keeping her well positioned within the monarchy. Then her mask of command returned, settling in as if nothing else existed beneath.

  Her words about ordering supper and Henryk’s stomach reminded him of how little he’d eaten that day. If nothing else came from this venture, it sounded as if he would receive at least one satisfactory meal. The thought cheered him, even as he realized the seriousness of the situation he’d been brought in to.