‘Pilo, enough!’ Ellin said, her glance flicking towards her escort, who was now almost upon them. ‘I just want to be like other girls my age.’
Pilo dropped his voice. ‘Other girls your age would sensibly say no to Orin. His mother is no doubt pushing this friendship. She is desperate to marry her twit of a son to the future Queen.’
‘You’re missing the point,’ Ellin said, sighing. She turned to her escort, who had finally joined them.
‘Hello, Flynn,’ Ellin said, politely.
‘Your Highness,’ the newcomer said, bending his tall frame in a bow. ‘Forgive me for interrupting you, Master Pilo, but I am bound by my superiors to never let the Princess ride alone.’ His eyes remained cast down. ‘In fact she should have her bodyguard with her at all times.’
Ellin looked at her escort’s bent head, noticing how his wavy hair glinted beneath the watery morning sun. It was scruffy, and his boots needed polishing, but his shirt was freshly laundered. There she was, complaining about her parents looking after her too closely, and this boy had neither parent to look after him. And Pilo was right, there was no surrender in Flynn’s tone or his stance. He was observing the right manners in the presence of his superiors, but there was something regal in his bearing, too. Ellin had always liked Flynn but, in truth, she didn’t know him well, even though they’d both grown up within the palace walls. He’d only been appointed as her ‘riding minder’ last Thaw. Her father had insisted that when she was on Flaxen she was always to have a palace rider alongside. Flynn being the best young rider – and swordsman – had been given the job while Juno supervised all other events. He was yet to be given any sort of official title but he fulfilled his role with great diligence. It helped enormously that Flaxen liked Flynn; the flighty filly found calm in his presence.
Pilo filled the pause. ‘Er, yes, the Princess was just telling me that she felt badly about leaving without her guard, weren’t you, Highness?’ He gave her a hard look.
‘Flynn,’ Ellin began. ‘I … I really should have waited for you. I should thank you, too. Flaxen is doing extremely well under your care.’
Flynn’s pale eyes flashed and she thought she detected a brief smile before he lowered his head again.
‘Would you like a stickycake?’ Ellin offered. ‘Pilo brought enough to feed an army.’
‘It’s very rare for the Princess to share this prize, Flynn,’ Pilo said gravely. ‘If I were you I’d accept quickly before she changes her mind.’
Flynn cleared his throat. ‘I don’t think it would be –’
‘It’s a small cake, Flynn, it’s not a sack of money,’ Pilo admonished. ‘Take one.’
The young man nodded and scratched self-consciously at his cheek. ‘All right, then, thank you, Your Highness.’
Ellin watched him wipe his hand against his breeches before he selected a cake, taking care to touch only the one he’d chosen.
‘Would you like to sit down?’ she offered, flopping to the ground with a sigh. ‘I’m in no hurry to leave.’
‘Shouldn’t I be getting you back to …?’ Flynn’s voice trailed off as he glanced between Pilo and the Princess.
‘As Her Highness wishes, lad,’ Pilo counselled.
Flynn let go of his horse’s reins. ‘I’m sure Donkey won’t wander far,’ he said, still sounding a little unsure about the turn of events.
‘Donkey?’ Ellin snorted. ‘What kind of name is that for a horse?’
‘It suits him,’ Flynn said. ‘He’s as gentle as a donkey and as stubborn as one, too.’
Ellin grinned at Flynn. ‘Is he yours?’
‘No, but as no one else chooses him I give him a ride often. He’s my favourite.’
‘Why?’ Pilo asked. ‘When you could ride Storm, for instance.’
‘None of the others have Donkey’s intelligent nature,’ Flynn replied. ‘He’s sure-footed and strong-willed. I like that about him.’
‘He sounds like you, Flynn,’ Pilo said.
Flynn ran a hand through his hair. ‘Oh, I don’t know about that, Master Pilo, sir.’
‘So how goes your fencing practice, Flynn?’ Ellin enquired, hoping to impress Pilo by following her mother’s style of making polite conversation.
‘Very well, thank you, Your Highness,’ Flynn said. ‘I’ve been trying out some new moves that are challenging but exciting when they work.’
Ellin smiled to show she was paying attention. ‘I should like to see you work those moves, Flynn,’ she said, courteously.
‘Well, perhaps you should come and watch the afternoon practice today, Princess Ellin,’ Pilo said. ‘I think you’ll rather enjoy it. I’ll let the King know that you’re attending at my invitation.’ Before Ellin could reply, Pilo rose to leave. ‘I’ll be off then,’ he said. ‘Flynn, I’m sure you’ll see the Princess safely back to the palace.’
‘Of course.’
‘Good. Highness, shall we say midday?’ Pilo suggested.
Ellin gave him a look that barely disguised her annoyance.
Pilo simply grinned. ‘You’ll find it so much more exciting than a picnic,’ he said, with a wink. He took the reins of his horse and led it quickly down the incline.
3
The Silver Wind was anchored off a small bay on the mid-western coast of Drestonia where gulls from the nearby colony wheeled overhead, scouring the shallow waters for crabs and the small shoals of skimmer fish that hugged the coastline. In spite of the slightly overcast skies, the sleek white ship sparkled, as though from her own luminescence.
A soft groan trembled through the ship and her captain, Calico Grace, grimaced her displeasure, cutting a stern glance at her dwarf companion standing alongside. She stroked Silver Wind’s gleaming rail as if to calm her.
‘All right, my lovely. I know you want to be on your way,’ Grace said.
‘Is the Wind complaining?’ Bitter Olof could hear the ship’s sounds but didn’t understand her language as Grace did.
‘Can you blame her?’ she snapped. ‘We’ve been pulling into bay after deserted bay for years now. We’ve lost sense of who we are. We’re pirates, Olof, and she’s a pirate ship. Her anchor should be drawn, her sails wind-full and she should be tinkling her pleasure at the chase of treasure-laden prey.’
‘I don’t blame her,’ he admitted softly, flexing his gnarled, warty hands in private anger.
‘I know Lanky Lancel is claiming I’ve lost my nerve. Can you imagine that? That arrogant, jumped up, excuse for a pirate that –’
‘Now, now, Grace,’ Olof soothed.
Calico Grace scowled as she sucked on her pipe filled with forregin leaf tobacco. The pipe emitted a sweet fragrance that was familiar to all on board the Silver Wind. But the fragrance was all that was sweet about Grace today. In fairness, there was little that was sweet about Calico Grace on any day. Silver Wind’s captain had a few teeth missing, liked to dress as a man, was a feared pirate and smuggler, ruled with an iron fist and could swing a punch better than most men.
But her husband, Bitter Olof, loved her, knowing Calico Grace hadn’t always been so rough. There was a time when her beauty had been renowned and she’d been wooed by noblemen across the land. It was his fault she found herself in this predicament. She’d fallen for him when he was a tall and dashingly handsome scoundrel with dark, wavy hair and an easy charm. In those days few men could hold a candle to his appeal and he’d used his agile mind effectively on his pathway of petty crime, which he’d dragged his new wife into and ultimately to a glimpse at the hangman’s noose.
But they’d escaped the gallows by making a bargain with a witch – a simple exchange – their looks for their freedom.
Bitter Olof hated being reminded of that moment when he’d agreed to Grevilya’s offer but every time he looked into the mirror or even a puddle of water, he was confronted by it.
‘Silver Wind’s got a mind of her own, you know that.’ Calico Grace poked Bitter Olof on the chest, dragging him from his thoughts. ‘She’ll do anything for me but I�
��ve asked enough of her these last years. She needs more than skulking around the coastline searching for the witch who will not be found. We have to let it go.’
Bitter Olof rubbed his chest but didn’t reply; his expression was like a gathering storm as he looked out from the prow to the rocky, seagull-infested beach they’d anchored off.
‘How’s that tobacco, Grace?’ Little Thom, their giant friend, asked as he walked onto the deck.
‘I hate forregin tobacco,’ Calico Grace grumbled. ‘Hear how it spits and crackles? Poor quality.’
Bitter Olof sneered. ‘Then don’t smoke it! In fact, don’t smoke at all. It’s not good for you.’
‘I like palankquin twist,’ she berated as if he’d not spoken. ‘You know that. I’ve a good mind to take the forregin and stuff it up Olof’s –’
‘Uh-uh, Grace,’ Little Thom interrupted, wagging a huge finger before her. ‘Manners on the prow. Your rules, remember?’
‘I was going to say up his nose,’ Calico Grace said, scowling again.
Little Thom knew not to push his old friend too hard but obviously agreed with Grace. ‘How much longer do you want to keep searching?’
‘As long as it takes,’ Bitter Olof grumbled back. Little Thom glanced at Calico Grace, who shook her head.
‘Olof, listen to me,’ she began again, more gently. ‘It’s been years. Accept that we are not going to find Grevilya. I’m not unhappy how I am.’
‘Well, I am!’ he snarled. ‘Have you forgotten how beautiful you were?’
Calico Grace took her pipe out of her mouth and banged the leaves out into the sea. ‘No, my love, I have not forgotten. The mirror reminds me every day of what I’ve lost. But it was a long time ago and I suppose you could say I have become comfortable in my skin.’
‘Well, I hate how I look and it galls me to think that my once beautiful wife who had a formerly tall and handsome husband now has to look upon a creature so much shorter than herself, who is ugly with a wart on the end of his nose and –’
‘I’ve always found your warts rather endearing,’ Little Thom cooed.
‘I’m warning you, Little Thom,’ Bitter Olof blustered, waggling a short finger at his friend.
‘Or what? You’ll bite my knee?’ Little Thom queried innocently.
‘Enough, Little Thom,’ Calico Grace cautioned. ‘He’s gone so red in the face he’ll die of rage on this deck if you’re not careful and then you’ll upset Silver Wind.’
‘Can’t have that,’ Little Thom said and gave Gracie a wink.
‘Olof,’ Calico Grace continued. ‘We don’t even know if we can undo it.’
‘It can be reversed,’ he sulked.
‘Maybe, but you know she won’t do it willingly. There will be another price to pay. We may not be growing older because we are protected by the terrible spell she placed on us, but look around you. Look at Little Thom.’
Bitter Olof turned to stare up at his tall friend.
Calico Grace pointed. ‘Have you noticed the grey around his ears and in his beard? That wasn’t there the last time you looked, was it?’
The dwarf shook his head in wonder; it was obvious he was seeing this sign of ageing in his friend for the first time.
‘We have been on this stupid and fruitless search for closer to two decades than one. Doesn’t that bother you?’
Bitter Olof cleared his throat. ‘It does,’ he admitted.
‘Then for Lo’s sake let’s all get on with our lives. How you look doesn’t change who you are inside, Olof. Look beyond the mirror. Look into your heart. Do you still love me?’
‘You know I do,’ he said softly.
‘And I you. And it matters not that I am a plain, weather-beaten pirate or that you are a short, warty man. I love you, Olof, and I think if you’ll let this chase go then we can laugh again.’
Bitter Olof became silent and after a long time he sighed. ‘Will you give me one more moon?’
‘Oh, what difference will a moon make?’ Calico Grace demanded, sounding exasperated.
He shrugged. ‘I heard some new information at the last town.’
‘You’re a fool, Olof,’ Calico Grace grumbled, but without much heat. ‘One moon – that’s all I’m giving you,’ she warned, waving her now empty pipe at him. ‘And if you haven’t found Grevilya, then you can choose. You can come along on the course I set and help me to find some fresh bullion. I hear there’s some rich takings on the Villerban Sea.’ She jutted her chin in the direction of north.
‘Gracie, that’s hundreds of leagues from here. We could be gone years.’
‘We have been gone years,’ Little Thom piped up.
‘Or,’ Calico Grace continued, glancing Little Thom’s way and giving him a brief nod of thanks, ‘I can drop you land-lubbers off at your choice of port on the mainland. You have one moon from today. And then you must make a decision.’
‘All right. It’s a deal. You need to set sail in a southerly direction.’
‘Is that so?’ she said, her gaze narrowing as she regarded him.
Bitter Olof nodded but seemed far away in his thoughts. ‘I think we might have her this time, Gracie,’ he said, looking out to sea.
Again Little Thom shared a private glance with the pirate captain, who grimaced at her husband’s comment.
‘Southerly, you say, Olof?’ she continued.
‘That’s right, to a cove known as Hellion’s Hole.’
Calico Grace glowered. ‘I know where that is. There’s nothing there. Not even a nearby village. It was an old dumping ground for smugglers’ contraband but King Rodin’s guards discovered it; we all swore never to return. I think it was used as a leper colony for a while too, so that was another reason why most of the pirates were scared away.’
‘We dropped anchor off there about six years ago,’ Little Thom reminded them. ‘Nothing but some terrified rabbits, that very loud owl and skittish wild ponies.’
‘And a donkey,’ Olof added.
They all nodded at the memory.
‘Why there?’ Little Thom asked. ‘There’s nothing to tempt anyone to live there anymore.’
‘I suppose you’re going to say that’s exactly the sort of hideout Grevilya would look for.’
Bitter Olof turned and for the first time in a long while he smiled. ‘Except I didn’t say it. You did.’
‘Bah!’ Calico Grace said. ‘One moon, Olof.’ She changed the subject. ‘You said you had strange news from Floris?’
Bitter Olof blew out his cheeks. ‘They’ve all got their undergarments in a knot claiming the place is haunted by a Rumpelgeist. People are terrified. I’m told many are threatening to leave.’
‘A ghost-rattler?’ Calico Grace exclaimed. ‘I thought that was just a story to scare children.’
‘I don’t think they’re make-believe but I’ve never seen one in action or known someone who has,’ Bitter Olof admitted.
Little Thom’s expression clouded. ‘Interesting you say that, Grace.’ He shrugged. ‘I mean about a story to scare children. What Olof didn’t hear but I did while he dozed off during that new inking around his neck is the rumour that children have begun disappearing from Floris.’
Calico Grace looked at the giant man, bewildered, as she began tamping down some fresh tobacco into her pipe. ‘Disappearing?’
‘You mean stolen?’ Bitter Olof queried, frowning.
Little Thom shook his head. ‘I don’t know what I mean. But enough of them are not accounted for that it’s not only the Rumpelgeist’s hauntings that are petrifying the city.’
‘We should contact Lute. He’ll be under siege. We should let him know where we are in case he needs us.’
‘I’ll send a pigeon,’ Little Thom agreed.
The Silver Wind’s captain sucked thoughtfully on her newly lit pipe, scowling at the bad taste. A quiet gathered around the trio. She let a thin stream of pale-green forregin smoke drift out of her lips, past her nose. ‘Hmm,’ she said finally. ‘The two phenomena could
be linked. Has anyone considered that?’
‘Rumpelgeists of myth aren’t born, they’re made,’ Bitter Olof remarked. ‘They don’t just arrive into a place, bouncing about of their own free will and choosing to haunt. They’re deliberately made and sent to win attention, create trouble. They obey the command of whoever has the power to fashion them.’
‘Who can fashion a Rumpelgeist?’ Thom snorted. ‘Hardly an everyday skill,’ he added.
‘No, it’s not, it would require great magical power,’ Olof admitted, his chin resting in his hands.
Calico Grace straightened, her pipe dangling precariously from her slightly opened lips as she followed a thought. She suddenly slapped her short husband loudly on the back and he spluttered a cough as he lurched into Silver Wind’s rails.
‘What did you do that f–’ he began.
But his wife cut his words off. ‘Someone with great magical power, you say … like the Witch Grevilya, perhaps?’
4
Princess Ellin and Flynn watched Pilo’s galloping retreat towards the palace until his horse disappeared beneath the great arch and gates of the palace bailey.
Flynn cleared his throat. ‘Your Highness? Er, shall we?’
She allowed him to help her up onto Flaxen. He handed her the reins and mounted Donkey in one smooth move.
‘Do you plan to gallop, Your Highness?’ he asked.
‘No, I shall be taking my time returning to the palace,’ Ellin said.
‘Would you prefer that I followed?’
‘No, I would prefer you to demonstrate your noble upbringing and make conversation with me, Duke Jolien.’
His mouth dropped open in surprise.
Ellin smiled inwardly, though she was peeved Pilo had needed to point out that the company of her own age, which she had craved for so long, had been right before her eyes the whole time.
In truth, she hadn’t had a good opportunity to mix with Flynn. He was only her escort when she rode Flaxen up to and within the boundary of Billygoat Beacon, so he wasn’t called upon frequently. And he had deliberately stayed in the background whenever he’d had to escort her on horseback. Her official bodyguard for most other excursions was Juno, who was probably still fast asleep in the sun where she’d left him with a cup of soup into which she’d mixed a light sleeping draught that she’d found in her mother’s chambers.
The Rumpelgeist Page 3