The Rumpelgeist

by Fiona McIntosh

  But in his usual sardonic way, Pilo had made her see her error. She grinned at Pilo’s opinion of Orin. He was right: Orin was a bit of a twit and his mother was desperately pushy. Ellin had decided during her ride back with Flynn that the picnic was a bad idea. She didn’t want to give Orin any notion that she was bestowing her favour upon him. The palace was a hive of gossip and she suspected Orin’s mother would be boasting about her son’s special relationship within a heartbeat. Ellin shook her head at the horrible thought; but she didn’t want to offend Orin. It wasn’t his fault his mother was determined to achieve royal links.

  Thurrabow arrived to interrupt Ellin’s thoughts. ‘Your Highness, Orin d’Vorg awaits your pleasure,’ he intoned.

  Ellin nodded her thanks. ‘Show him here, please.’ She took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of the herbs in the small garden, and pasted on her best smile.

  Orin d’Vorg swaggered in behind Thurrabow. ‘Princess Ellin,’ he exclaimed, effecting an exaggerated bow. ‘I was surprised to be summoned,’ he said, before she could speak, ‘especially as I’ll be seeing you later today for our picnic. Can’t keep away from me, eh?’

  She let her breath out slowly and tried not to show any scorn in her expression. ‘Well, it’s about the picnic that I needed to see you, Orin. Thank you for coming so promptly.’

  Orin waited.

  ‘I … er …’ Queen-in-waiting. She reminded herself of Pilo’s accusation and decided to take her father’s direct approach. ‘Forgive me, Orin. I’m going to have to cancel our picnic meeting this afternoon.’

  His expression clouded. ‘Oh?’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Why?’ he asked, a scowl on his face.

  She understood his disappointment and even though Ellin had carefully thought out an excuse that would not hurt his feelings, she didn’t appreciate the petulance in his tone. ‘I’m not sure I am obliged to explain what will keep me from it,’ she said evenly, glad that she sounded neither cringingly polite nor overly apologetic.

  ‘I was so looking forward to it,’ he blustered as though she hadn’t surreptitiously reprimanded him.

  ‘And I too,’ she fibbed, determined not to injure his feelings. ‘But this afternoon is no longer convenient.’

  ‘I’ve told people that –’

  ‘Well, you shouldn’t have,’ she admonished as gently as she could. ‘I simply said yes to a picnic. Please don’t read anything more than polite companionship for a few hours into my acceptance.’

  Orin pursed his lips. His cheeks were burning. She couldn’t tell whether it was from embarrassment or anger.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she added, and felt genuine in her regret.

  He blew out his cheeks loudly. ‘Well, we can rearrange it. Shall we say tomorrow?’

  ‘I cannot –’

  ‘The next day then?’ he pressed, boorishly. ‘You seem to find the time to ride out with Jolien, I’m sure you can find an hour or so to –’

  ‘Lo’s breath! Are you spying on me, Orin d’Vorg?’ Her sensitivity at being watched covertly now made sense and irritated her hugely. Even more than d’Vorg’s lack of manners did.

  ‘Spying? No! I just happened to be up on the battlements and saw you with him.’

  ‘So what?’

  Orin looked set to explode. ‘So … nothing.’ His bottom lip pouted and she liked him even less for this petulance. ‘It’s just if you have the time to go out riding, surely you have the time –’

  ‘Well, I don’t today, as I’ve explained. Furthermore, I’m not used to being questioned about how much time I have or don’t have and I certainly refuse to be answerable to anyone but the King or Queen about where I spend it.’

  Thurrabow cleared his throat behind them. Ellin glanced over.

  ‘Master Pilo is waiting, Your Highness,’ he intoned. ‘He said he’s early and hopes he’s not interrupting.’

  ‘No, that’s fine, thank you, please show him into the courtyard. Master d’Vorg was just leaving.’ Ellin returned her attention to Orin. ‘I imagine you have to prepare for the practice,’ she said, sweetening her tone. ‘I thought I might watch you all today.’

  Orin was clearly struggling to mask the rage he was feeling and seemed unable to respond.

  ‘Well, Orin. I’ll look forward to watching you all spar.’ She held out a hand.

  D’Vorg seemed in no hurry to leave. It was as though he was looking for the right words to say.

  Ellin saved him the search. ‘Please pass on my regards to your mother,’ she said in the kindest voice she could find, remembering how her own mother would neatly and politely bring an end to a meeting.

  Pilo arrived to save her any further awkwardness. ‘Your Highness.’ He bowed. ‘Hello, d’Vorg. Aren’t you going to be late for the pre-practice?’ he said, grinning easily with feigned innocence. ‘I heard Master Reeve was giving you an early run through your paces before the royals arrived.’

  ‘I was just leaving,’ Orin mumbled.

  ‘Bye, then,’ Pilo said, airily. ‘Look forward to seeing your exhibition later.’

  D’Vorg clearly seethed through his attempt at a polite smile. He turned back to Ellin and before he could so much as mention rearranging their engagement, she beamed.

  ‘Farewell, Orin,’ she said, and immediately turned away. ‘I’m glad you came early, Pilo, I wanted to discuss details of the forthcoming carnival in the city. Father tells me …’ Her words trailed off as Orin had no choice but to retreat towards Thurrabow, who showed him to the door. Once it closed behind him she let out a loud sigh. ‘Ooh, he made that tricky.’

  ‘That’s because he’s so thick he can’t see when he’s being fobbed off.’

  ‘Don’t be cruel, Pilo. You know it’s his mother.’

  ‘Orin is cruel, Ellin. I’ve watched him with the younger lads. He’s a bully of the highest order because he uses his size and the Crown’s favour to intimidate the others.’

  ‘So he deserves what he gets?’

  ‘I feel no guilt at giving him a taste of his own medicine, except I don’t use my fists. A mouth is a far more damaging weapon, Your Highness. Use it precisely – and wisely in the right circumstances – and it can cut down any man to size. Even a bully with a bigger bully for a mother.’

  Flynn pulled the leather training armour over his head. He knew how to do the buckles up by feel, which was fortunate because his mind was filled with thoughts of Princess Ellin.

  Nothing had thrilled him more than the day when King Lute had agreed to Flynn’s role as Ellin’s ‘horseman’, as he was known. His job, which he was sure was won through Master Pilo’s influence, was to take care of Flaxen, and have her saddled and ready whenever the Princess was taking a ride within the greater palace grounds. This encompassed the moors surrounding the great castle all the way to Billygoat Beacon and the forests that encircled it – all belonged to the Crown. It was an expansive area and Ellin had the freedom to ride and picnic within it, with Flynn as her minder to take care of the horse and any errands.

  Flynn knew the Princess despised being so closely supervised. Until today, she had spoken to Flynn only in passing to thank him when he helped her onto the horse or maybe mentioned that Flaxen was slightly sore and should only be trotted today rather than galloped – that sort of thing. Ellin had never been rude but, rather, politely distant. She had always seemed distracted or frustrated or was galloping off somewhere she shouldn’t. In spite of her aloof manner, Flynn had not only felt the keen motivation of loyalty to his King, the Crown and his appointed role, but he couldn’t help admiring Princess Ellin. Yes, she was pretty, but it was more than that. Ellin wasn’t like most of the girls Flynn knew. The daughters of nobles took a far haughtier attitude than Ellin did, and she was heir to the throne. If anything, Ellin liked simple pleasures – such as her rides. He’d once led her to the back of the stables where Kipper had chosen a spot to nest and give birth to her first litter. She was struggling, but he knew she’d be fine once
the first kitten was born. Flynn had watched the Princess’s expression turn to wonder, sensed her heart melt for the young cat, and was not entirely surprised when she cancelled her ride and sat among the hay without any heed for her fine clothes. Ellin had spent the next few hours sitting shoulder to shoulder with Flynn, soothing Kipper and sighing with joy as each of the five kittens had been born and drawn their first breath. They’d not said much, only whispering to one another as each new kitten arrived, but their silence was comfortable. Perhaps it was that day, two moons previous – when her heart had melted for Kipper – that his had melted for Ellin.

  From what he could tell, Ellin was a loner – and he understood that part of her so well because he felt a kinship with that loneliness. She was an excellent rider, too, and it amused him that she was always finding new and creative ways to slip Juno and be alone. He liked the innocent wickedness about her that was prepared to take risks and defy her superiors.

  It didn’t take a seer to know that the Princess was feeling smothered by her father’s concern, but that she also craved his attention. Flynn suspected this was the real reason why the Princess had encouraged d’Vorg. His cheeks reddened at his memory of riding alone with her this morning and how much pleasure he’d gained from having a long conversation with her – even jesting with her.

  His mind was jolted from faraway as Flynn felt himself being lifted so that his toes barely touched the ground. He looked down into a large and scowling face.

  ‘Lord d’Vorg,’ Flynn said, with deliberate courtesy.

  ‘I’m going to flay the very skin from your bones, Jolien,’ Orin threatened.

  ‘You will try, I’m sure,’ Flynn replied, as amicably as he could.

  Orin tightened his grip around Flynn’s collar. ‘I’ve just heard that we’re going to be graced with Princess Ellin’s presence today,’ he said.

  ‘How nice,’ Flynn said, neutrally.

  Flynn felt his teeth rattle in his head as Orin gave him a shake.

  ‘I like the Princess,’ Orin said, carefully.

  ‘I’m sure we all do,’ Flynn managed to choke out.

  ‘Just because you were chosen to ride behind her, doesn’t make you special,’ d’Vorg sneered.

  Flynn could only nod now.

  ‘Whereas I am special,’ Orin said. ‘My mother thinks I’m a very good suitor for Princess Ellin.’

  This wasn’t news to Flynn, but hearing it from Orin’s lips and imagining those same lips slobbering over Ellin’s hand when he greeted her made him furious.

  ‘I would imagine your mother would be happy if anyone would accept you as a suitor, even Dolly Perkins,’ Flynn taunted.

  This prompted a riot of laughter in the chamber where all the youngsters in training – by day the pages and squires around the castle – readied themselves for their drills in the bailey. Dolly Perkins was the tallest, heaviest, widest woman in the land. She travelled in her own specially built wagon in Master Tyren’s Marvels of Nature Travelling Circus Show.

  Orin dropped Flynn but stabbed a forefinger into his chest.

  ‘I’m warning you, Jolien, do not even think about showing off today,’ Orin said.

  ‘If we are chosen to cross swords, d’Vorg, I will fight as our drillmaster insists, not how you instruct,’ Flynn said.

  ‘It would not be in your interest to attempt to humiliate me today, you penniless runt,’ Orin threatened.

  The other youths had gathered around now, no doubt sensing a scrap.

  ‘You humiliate yourself constantly,’ Flynn replied coolly. ‘But if you are asking if I will try to win, then I must assure you that I never fight to lose.’

  ‘You wouldn’t want to win today,’ Orin warned.

  ‘Or what?’

  ‘Or I’ll have your hide one way or the other,’ the big fellow said and stomped away.

  One of the other boys gave Flynn a sympathetic look. ‘It’s not worth it, Jolien. Let him have his way.’

  ‘Are you mad, Peri?’ Flynn responded. ‘That goes against everything we’re being taught. We’re training to be knights of the realm. We don’t negotiate with our foes. I refuse to be bullied into submission by the likes of Orin d’Vorg.’

  Peri shrugged. ‘It’s your skin,’ he replied, ‘I just don’t think d’Vorg is worth the trouble.’

  ‘Jolien wants to impress the Princess himself,’ another boy called out, mischievously. ‘He’s got doe-eyes for Her Highness, that’s really why he won’t back down today.’

  Flynn swung around angrily, but Peri was at his side in a blink. ‘Leave it, Flynn. No harm was meant. Save your energy for the drill.’

  Peri was right, and Flynn calmed his anger quickly. He wasn’t usually hot-headed, but something about Princess Ellin and her smile had got to him today. He was sure he had blushed when he had seen her at the top of the hill with Pilo that morning. With her windswept hair and the cool of the morning pinching colour at her cheeks, the way she stood so confidently in her riding breeches, he’d never felt more lost for words.

  Flynn was lagging, still buckling on his leathers when he saw Pilo stroll into the dressing chamber. Pilo was clearly popular with the lads, who all greeted him enthusiastically.

  ‘Hello again, young Flynn,’ Pilo said. ‘Can I assist with those leathers? It’ll be much quicker and then you won’t get into any hot water with Master Reeve.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Flynn said, and allowed Pilo to quickly move around the buckles.

  ‘You know we have royalty present today?’ Pilo asked.

  ‘Yes, sir. You invited the Princess this morning.’

  ‘Princess Ellin is coming, yes. But, more importantly, the King has agreed to watch today’s drill, too.’

  Mutterings of awe flew around the chamber. This was entirely unexpected. The King never watched them practise. ‘King Lute?’

  ‘Indeed. So make me proud.’ Pilo leaned in close to Flynn’s ear. ‘I’ve told him to pay special attention to you,’ he said.

  ‘Why, sir?’ Flynn asked, his expression nervous.

  ‘Because,’ Pilo said, tapping him lightly on the shoulder, ‘I want the King to see for himself that you are the best young swordsmen this bailey has produced for a long time. I also want the King to see that you would make an excellent champion for Princess Ellin. Do you understand?’

  Flynn nodded, hardly able to breathe. Champion? A royal champion had all manner of responsibilities.

  ‘Good. That’s settled,’ Pilo said, with a grin. Then he slapped Flynn on the back. ‘Now all you have to do is beat Orin d’Vorg. I believe that will seal it.’ Pilo turned to leave. ‘Make me proud, boy,’ he said over his shoulder before disappearing into the afternoon sunlight, while Flynn stood stunned in the shadows.

  6

  Ellin glanced at her father as they settled themselves in the special royal box at the end of the arena where the young men practised their drill. ‘This is an unexpected surprise,’ she said.

  ‘Pilo insisted,’ the King responded, his palms upturned, as if to say he was helpless to refuse.

  ‘I see. He invited me as well,’ Ellin said.

  Lute gave her a wry look. ‘Then he’s up to something.’

  They shared a conspiratorial grin and, just for that moment, all felt right between father and daughter.

  ‘I told Orin I couldn’t go on the picnic,’ she continued, conversationally.

  ‘Good.’

  Ellin wanted to say more about it, but she didn’t want to burst the happy mood. ‘I’m glad you came to watch the drill,’ she said instead.

  She was thrilled when he took her hand. ‘I came only because Pilo told me you were to be present.’

  ‘Really?’ she asked, her eyes shining.

  Lute squeezed her hand. ‘I’m sorry if I seem distant, Ellin, but when you are queen, you may come to forgive me. One day you will understand how hard it is to find time to spend with the people you love. I have a responsibility to the people of Drestonia. I know you need your fathe
r, but they also need their King.’

  She nodded. ‘I understand. Truly I do, but I still miss you.’

  The King looked at her with sadness. ‘I’m going to try harder to make time for us to go riding together regularly. We’ll leave at first light and get Cook to pack us food to break the fast. We shall have warm bread and thick ham with some of Cook’s special chutney. And a quart of creamy milk to wash down the –’

  ‘Stickycakes,’ Ellin said in unison with her father, and they both laughed. ‘That sounds wonderful,’ she said. ‘It would mean everything to me.’

  ‘Ahem,’ someone said.

  ‘Hello Pilo,’ King Lute said, as the older man joined them in the royal box.

  ‘Ready, Your Majesty? Princess Ellin?’

  ‘Ready,’ they replied.

  Pilo signalled to Master Reeve and Ellin watched the young up-and-coming warriors of Drestonia stride purposefully out into the arena.

  ‘There’s young Jolien. See, Your Majesty, the tall, golden-haired fellow.’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ Lute said, oblivious to the look Ellin shot at Pilo, who shrugged innocently at her. ‘Gad’s wrath, the boy has grown! Looks just like his father. Where is d’Vorg?’

  ‘He’s the chap lumbering at the back,’ Pilo said. ‘The one with thick lips and the mouth gaping as though he’s a few loaves short of a baker’s dozen.’

  Lute chuckled, while Ellin cut Pilo another exasperated look.

  Pilo warmed to his subject. ‘Heaven knows how he wields a sword and concentrates on keeping his mouth closed at the same time!’

  Stop it! Ellin mouthed. Although, in truth, she was more offended by her father’s loud laughter.

  ‘Hush, Father,’ Ellin warned. ‘You’ll never be invited again otherwise.’

  The younger boys began practising their moves with wooden swords, while the older boys, including Flynn and Orin, parried with real weapons.