The Rumpelgeist

by Fiona McIntosh

‘There must be a rational explanation for this,’ Pilo said.

  ‘There is no obvious explanation, Master Pilo,’ Torren bristled.

  ‘Forgive me, Torren, I’m not suggesting you aren’t doing everything but you agree children don’t disappear into thin air?’

  ‘A few days ago I would have agreed, sir,’ he said, ‘but the fact is, that’s exactly what has happened.’

  Lute shook his head and walked away. ‘Why wasn’t the alarm raised sooner?’ It wasn’t a question he aimed at anyone; it was an empty one of despair.

  Torren clearly felt obliged to answer the King, though. ‘One child didn’t show up for the midday meal on the northern edge of the city, another child from the west wasn’t noticed missing until the cows had to be milked,’ said Commander Torren. ‘Today’s the fourth day and panic is erupting. The candlemaker’s daughter, Dilly, wasn’t missed for a couple of days because she’d been ill and sent to stay with her aunt. The aunt thought she’d run back home.’ The commander sighed and continued. ‘The eldest missing is Lex Jervis. He’s a real talent, I gather, and was sitting the exams to become an apprentice at the apothecary. The boy had no reason to walk away from his opportunity. Each case was so isolated it’s taken a few days to link the disappearance of a lot of children.’

  Lute swung around and gave the commander a look of exasperation. ‘It doesn’t excuse the fact that the Crown has dragged its feet. We must act. I will be putting every soldier at your disposal. By this evening I want to know that we have the trail pointing us to where the children of Floris have gone. Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes, Your Majesty,’ the commander said. ‘I might add that blame for the loss of the children is now being squarely directed at the Rumpelgeist.’

  ‘As it should,’ Pilo chimed in. ‘Surely the coincidence can’t be ignored?’

  ‘I agree,’ Lute groaned. ‘Right, thank you, Torren. I will consult my advisors regarding this Rumpelgeist. One way or another I intend to find out by tomorrow what this ghost wants and if it’s holding our city’s children to ransom.’

  ‘We’ll be ready for the palace’s instructions, King Lute,’ the commander said, bowing again.

  After Torren’s departure, Lute turned to Pilo. ‘Your thoughts?’

  ‘The city folk have certainly made the connection that the Rumpelgeist is responsible,’ Pilo insisted.

  ‘They’re frightened, they need to blame something,’ Lute said, pacing.

  Pilo risked pushing Lute. ‘I still think you should talk to Ellin. See if she knows any –’

  ‘Why would she?’ Lute interrupted, running a hand through his hair.

  Pilo’s face darkened. He threw up his hands. ‘Lute, you asked for my advice. You have it. Send for your daughter!’

  8

  Flynn sat on one of the rooftops of the lower buildings of the castle complex and looked out over the city of Floris.

  ‘I wonder if Princess Ellin looks over this same view from her bedchamber?’

  His companion shrugged.

  Flynn sighed. ‘What you threatened to do to Orin today can never happen again. Do you understand? I am training to be a knight; there is no room for cheating in a knight’s heart.’

  The other boy nodded, but looked reluctant.

  ‘I mean it, Lex. I forbid you to interfere in my contests. I want you to make a solemn promise.’ He turned to look at his friend. ‘All right?’

  Lex pointed at Flynn’s sore leg.

  ‘Yes, all right. If I’m hurt, you can get involved, but only to call for help,’ Flynn said.

  They touched fists to seal the deal. Several minutes passed as they sat staring over the city. Flynn had first met Lex three evenings ago, when he’d been slowly bringing Flaxen on after she’d hurt her foot. He’d been applying daily poultices, changing them several times and on this particular evening he’d decided it was the right moment to see how freely Flaxen could move. He’d taken her for a gentle workout not far from the palace but up onto the moors that he knew she liked.

  He was bent down, studying her leg, impressed at how fast she’d recovered and was ready to bear Princess Ellin’s weight again when he fell backwards in shock as a boy of about his own age – but ghostly in form – sidled around Flaxen’s flank and smiled.

  ‘What the –’ Flynn fell back, only just managing to hang onto the reins of the equally startled Flaxen, who dragged him for a few yards until Flynn regained his feet and calmed her.

  Flynn remembered how he’d turned, hoping with all of his heart that he’d spooked himself, but the ghost-boy stood there, sheepishly waiting. As soon as Flynn’s gaze had fallen on him again the boy had lifted his hands in a plea for calm.

  ‘Who are you?’ Flynn had demanded, disturbed by the fact that he could see through his companion’s insubstantial body to the forest beyond.

  The boy had touched his throat and shaken his head.

  ‘You can’t talk?’

  He’d shaken his head, pointed to Flynn and then his ears.

  ‘You can’t um … no … wait – I can’t hear you, is that what you mean?’

  The boy had grinned and nodded.

  ‘Are you real?’

  He’d nodded again but had looked sadly back at Flynn and shrugged. He’d held a finger up and urged Flynn to follow him. At the edge of the forest was an area that wasn’t grassed. In the exposed earth the boy had laboriously dragged his finger through the soil and managed to spell out his name.

  ‘You’re Lex?’

  His new friend had nodded enthusiastically and tapped his chest.

  ‘Are you from here?’

  Another nod.

  Flynn had frowned. ‘I don’t understand. I can see you but you’re not … um … substantial. What are you?’

  ‘Rumpelgeist,’ Lex drew with great effort.

  Flynn had gasped. ‘The Rumpelgeist. No one else can see you!’

  Lex had shaken his head sadly.

  Since that time the boys’ friendship had strengthened and despite their difficult manner of communication, Flynn had learned more about his curious companion, felt a deep sorrow for him, and wanted to help. Up on the rooftop of the palace Flynn could look all the way to the coast. He’d never stood on a beach or even near the shore.

  ‘Have you ever seen the sea?’ he asked Lex, remembering to pose his questions so his friend could either nod or shake his head. It was faster, easier that way. Lex couldn’t hold a stylus, so writing on parchment was impossible; it was incredible that he had taught himself to form words in the earth.

  Lex nodded.

  Flynn knew Lex was frightening the city of Floris, and yet he also could tell that Lex was desperate and lonely rather than dangerous. ‘Lex, I have to tell someone about you, you do realise that, don’t you?’ He didn’t add that no one would believe him.

  The boy shook his head anxiously.

  ‘I have to. People are terrified of you. You’ve got to stop visiting their homes and scaring them. Why do you do it?’ He sighed, realising Lex couldn’t answer that easily. ‘Look, I don’t understand why you’re this ghost but if there’s a way to reverse what’s happened then I’m going to help you to do that. But I want the hauntings to stop now. All right?’

  Lex drew a cross over his heart to show that he was giving Flynn his solemn pledge.

  ‘Good. Now, I wonder how long it will take for d’Vorg to calm down,’ Flynn said. ‘I want to stay out of his way for as long as possible. There’s no saying what he’ll do in this mood.’

  He saw Lex’s fists clench as his friend looked at something over Flynn’s shoulder. Turning, Flynn saw the very person he dreaded.

  ‘Who in Lo’s bright army are you talking to, Jolien?’ Orin said. ‘Or do you have so few friends you have to talk to yourself?’

  ‘This is going to get nasty. Go!’ Flynn said to Lex.

  D’Vorg looked at Flynn as though he really did believe he was soft in the head. ‘Go?’ he mimicked. ‘Is that the best you can say to me, Jolien
?’ he added with a smirk, throwing aside the core of the apple he was casually chewing on. He took a linen square from his shirt pocket and wiped his hands. ‘You really are pathetic, Jolien, and if you think the midday confrontation is going to stop me from claiming the title of champion to the Princess, then I’m going to have to give you a brief education. You need to know that I always get what I want.’

  Flynn shrugged. ‘When did you become such a bully, Orin? You’re such a mummy’s boy. Someone has to teach you that you can’t always have what you want.’

  ‘Shut up, Jolien,’ Orin said, his voice rising with anger. ‘Master Reeve should have awarded me that win, but he favours you. So does Master Pilo.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ Flynn replied evenly, taking a few steps to his right.

  D’Vorg noted Flynn’s movements. ‘Then why were you appointed as the Princess’s shadow?’ he asked.

  ‘I am her riding minder, that’s all,’ Flynn answered. ‘It’s one step up from stableboy! I clean up after her horse in case you hadn’t noticed.’

  ‘But it’s clear you want to be so much more to her,’ Orin said, his tone becoming sly.

  Flynn looked away, hating that his feelings must be obvious, even to an oaf like Orin. He assessed his situation quickly. There was no easy escape, but surely Orin didn’t plan to fight it out on the rooftop. ‘What do you want, Orin? What are you doing here?’ he said.

  ‘I have been suspended from the fighting coterie because of you,’ Orin said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me. I’ve just been informed that Master Reeve will not let me train with the rest of you anymore. He doesn’t like my unchivalrous ways, apparently. But Master Reeve is a fool. I doubt he’s even been to battle. My father saw real action, fighting for his life with Duke Janko’s men on the borders.’

  ‘But you weren’t fighting for your life today,’ Flynn reasoned.

  ‘Without the role of Princess Ellin’s champion, I am no one,’ Orin spat. ‘So in a way I was fighting for my life.’

  Flynn took a deep breath. He felt vaguely sorry for Orin. ‘I’m not going to fight you,’ he said.

  ‘And now I’m no longer part of the coterie,’ Orin continued, as though Flynn hadn’t spoken, ‘I don’t have much else to lose. I can never be her champion. I will never be taken seriously.’

  ‘Go back to your rooms, Orin. Just leave and this doesn’t have to go any further. We can forget we had this conversation,’ Flynn said.

  ‘Go home?’ Orin mocked. ‘To what? There is nothing waiting except my hysterical mother. My role, my name, my position have all been tarnished by you.’

  ‘Me?’ Flynn couldn’t help but sound incredulous. ‘I haven’t done anything to you.’

  ‘Your very presence is a problem for me,’ Orin said. ‘I want you to leave Drestonia. You have nothing to stay for, in any case. You have a title, but that’s all. You’re as poor as a church mouse and no princess is ever going to consider you for a husband. I’ll pay you to leave.’

  ‘Husband,’ Flynn repeated, and laughed. ‘And you’re going to pay me?’

  ‘Yes. I will pay you on the promise that you leave the kingdom and never return, at least not until Ellin is Queen and I her consort.’

  ‘So that’s really what this is all about?’ Flynn said, finally beginning to understand. ‘You want to rule.’

  ‘What else is there but to rule? I’ll let her think she’s ruler, of course, but I will essentially become a king, if not in title.’

  ‘You’re not suited to that role, Orin. You’re a follower and a pretty ordinary one at that,’ Flynn said, hiding his rising anger behind his calm tone.

  ‘This kingdom needs a strong leader!’ Orin said. ‘I’m as loyal to Drestonia as any other noble. But sometimes I think we would have been better off with Duke Janko as our monarch. King Lute can’t even get rid of a ghost-rattler. You know it’s stealing children now, don’t you?’ Orin smiled slyly. ‘No, I see you don’t.’

  ‘That’s a lie!’ Flynn said.

  ‘Ho! A lie, you say. How would you know?’

  Flynn looked around nervously. ‘Because I do.’

  ‘Obviously you are very special then. Can you speak to ghosts?’ Orin laughed. ‘I’ve just had an amusing inspiration. I shall start spreading the word that you invited the ghost-rattler into our lives. Once the angry Florians get wind of it, they’ll be after your hide. Not even Master Pilo, not even the King could save your skin.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Flynn said. ‘I didn’t invite the Rumpelgeist.’

  ‘So you say, but I’m not the only one who has seen you talking to an invisible presence recently. I can use your madness to my advantage.’

  ‘I … I …’ Flynn looked flustered now.

  ‘What? Has Cook’s cat suddenly got your tongue, Jolien?’ Orin said, triumphant at last.

  ‘The Rumpelgeist is not stealing children,’ Flynn said, emphatically. ‘And I’ll be damned if I let you bad mouth me to anyone.’

  Orin took a step forward. ‘What are you going to do about it?’ he demanded.

  ‘I’ll finish what I started earlier today,’ Flynn said, quietly.

  His rival laughed. ‘We already finished, you low-life pretender,’ Orin snarled. ‘I won.’

  ‘Not in the eyes of our King and certainly not in the eyes of the Princess, whose favour you crave so much but which you’ve now lost for ever,’ Flynn taunted.

  This was the last straw for Orin, who rushed at his enemy like an enraged bull.

  Flynn tried to calculate how badly this was going to turn out. He was on the roof, there was nothing behind or below him to break his fall – other than the ground – and Orin weighed twice as much as he did. Orin slammed into him hard, clearly not even concerned for his own safety. Both boys toppled over the rooftop and began a rapid descent.

  9

  Ellin had changed out of her formal clothes. On her return from the bailey, her maids had fussed with the careful removal of skirts and petticoats before unpinning her hair and brushing it with a hundred strokes that Mistress Melane – or Mistress Melon as Pilo called her – insisted she count aloud in Tallinese.

  ‘Your mother has charged me to teach you your languages, Your Highness. I cannot disobey the Queen.’

  Well I can, Ellin thought humourlessly but counted aloud in Percherese in a bored tone to keep the peace. Once Ellin had reached one hundred Mistress Melane nodded at the servant, who put the brush down.

  The teacher continued. ‘I’ve drawn up a new schedule of lessons for you as Her Majesty has also asked me to work alongside your other tutors to increase your study periods.’

  ‘What?’ Ellin spluttered.

  ‘“Pardon” is a better word, Your Highness,’ Mistress Melane said affectionately, squeezing Ellin’s shoulder.

  It didn’t matter what Ellin said or how she said it, her languages teacher could never be offended by her. She was always smiling, always pleasant! Ellin sometimes wished she could be like her but was sure it must require a lot of patience – patience she certainly didn’t possess. And right now she was impatient to be left alone by all the fussing servants.

  ‘I shall leave it here for you to look over. We have organised some evening lessons – mostly dance and deportment. Queen Tria is demanding we stop that slouch, Your Highness,’ Mistress Melane said sweetly, pulling back Ellin’s shoulders and admiring her new straight bearing in the mirror that Ellin was still sitting before. ‘Ribbons or the finkelshell slide?’ her hair attendant murmured near by.

  Ellin tried her very best not to scowl. ‘Neither, Tilley,’ she said, wearily. ‘Just let it be.’

  ‘Tsk, tsk,’ Mistress Melane clicked with her tongue. ‘You must look pretty every moment of the day, Your Highness. I think the finkelshell slide, Tilley.’

  The young woman nodded and smiled encouragingly at Ellin, who sighed. ‘Thank you, Tilley,’ she agreed, knowing none of this was anyone’s fault. Pilo was right. If she wan
ted to be treated as an adult, she had to stop her whinges and get on with behaving like one and that included finding the patience to let her maids do what they were employed to do – or, just like Flynn, they were the ones who would end up being punished for her disobedience.

  ‘And thank you, Mistress Melane,’ she added, as cheerfully as she could, in the spirit of making a new effort. ‘I’ll look over the new schedule this afternoon. Now if you’ll all excuse me, I think I might have a short rest.’ She was lying, of course, because Ellin never could imagine why anyone would sleep during the day but the ploy worked.

  ‘Of course. I hear you were up very early this morning,’ Mistress Melane said knowingly, but sensibly didn’t mention her disappearance from the palace, including slipping the guards. ‘Take a rest and I shall see you this evening after dance practice.’

  Ellin smiled faintly and closed her eyes with relief when finally everyone left her suite.

  She sat now in the tall column of sunlight that the window allowed into her room and played with the five new kittens that Kipper, the Cook’s cat, had recently given to the palace and she’d witnessed being born. With Kipper’s sleepy-eyed permission, Ellin had brought mother and brood up to her rooms, laughing with delight at the antics of the babies. She knew they’d be back asleep within moments so this burst of activity needed to be enjoyed while it lasted.

  Ellin dangled a woollen thread enticingly and was rewarded with a lot of bouncing and leaping and batting with tiny paws. She was entirely absorbed by their frenetic activity when Kipper’s sudden hissing grabbed her attention.

  ‘What’s wrong, Kip?’ she said, frowning.

  The cat backed away from nothing, hackles rising, spitting at the air.

  And then a voice spoke to Ellin from nowhere.

  ‘Your Highness,’ it said, sounding as timid and frightened as Ellin instantly felt. She forgot about the kittens and leapt to her feet, backing away as she’d seen the cat do.

  The voice was real and it was near, but there was no one in the room with her. Ellin felt the blood drain from her face. She said nothing, but looked around, stealing backwards towards the window. The kittens followed, mewling. Their mother, however, was still snarling and looking at a spot in the room where the air seemed to shimmer and thicken.