“Welcome home, Your Majesty,” the elf said with evident relief. Mendanbar noticed that he’d dug up a formal uniform somewhere, all sky-blue velvet and dusty gold braid. “May I assume that your mission was a success?”
“Yes, you may,” Mendanbar said. “Willin, this is Kazul, the King of the Dragons, and she’s very hungry. See if you can scare up something in the kitchen that would do for a dragon-sized meal.”
“At once, Your Majesty,” Willin said, bowing. “And may I congratulate you and your companions on your great achievement and welcome King Kazul to the Enchanted Forest.”
“The welcome I’m interested in is dinner,” Kazul said with a smile that showed all her teeth.
Willin backed away hastily. “Of course, of course. I’ll see about it immediately.”
“I’d better come with you,” said Cimarene. “I’ve been Kazul’s Chief Cook for over a year, and I know what she likes.”
The two of them left, heading for the other side of the castle, with Kazul trailing hopefully behind them.
Mendanbar wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or relieved. He wanted very much to talk to Cimorene, but he wasn’t sure how to tell her what he wanted to say, and anyway they certainly couldn’t discuss the things he wanted to talk about with all these other people around.
“Mendanbar, have you got somewhere I could work on these without being disturbed?” Telemain asked, nodding at the load of wizards’ staffs he was carrying.
“I wouldn’t mind examining them myself,” Morwen said.
“The blue room would be best, I think,” Mendanbar said. “The light is better in my study, but there’s a gargoyle in the corner who can be, um, difficult.”
“W’e’ll take the study,” Morwen said decisively. “Light is important, and once Telemain gets involved, he won’t notice any distractions.”
“What about you?” Telemain asked, nettled. Morwen sniffed. “I can handle considerably more than a mere gargoyle.”
“All right,” Mendanbar said. “As long as you’re sure.”
He showed them to the study and helped them get settled, then went down to the kitchen to see how Cimorene and Kazul were doing. He found Kazul in the rear courtyard, eating an enormous kettle of stew that had been intended to be supper for the entire castle. Cimorene was in the kitchen, her arms covered in flour to the elbows, rolling out pie crust and giving orders to the cook. Mendanbar stayed long enough to make sure that the cook would do whatever Cimorene told him to, and then Cimorene chased him away, saying that it was difficult enough to cook in a strange kitchen without people hovering over her.
“You don’t have to cook anything,” Mendanbar told her.
“I do if we want any dinner,” Cimorene retorted. “Kazul is already eating everything that was ready for tonight, and she’s going to want more as soon as she’s finished. Your people aren’t really prepared to cope with a visiting dragon.”
“We’ve never had one before.”
“Well, you have one now.” Cimorene glanced toward the courtyard and lowered her voice. “I think we’ll be staying for a few days at least, if that won’t cause too many problems. Kazul needs to get her strength back before she tries to fly back to the Mountains of Morning.”
“You can stay as long as you like,” Mendanbar assured her. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“You can let me get back to making dinner!” Cimorene said. She was smiling, but she obviously meant what she had said.
“All right. Call me if you need anything.” Mendanbar bowed and left, feeling a little put out.
* * *
He went to the castle library, since his study was occupied, and poked about in the scrolls for a few minutes. Then he decided to check on Prince Rupert and his nephew. He found the middle-aged prince quickly enough, but he had to send someone to retrieve the young Crown Prince from the dungeon.
“Did you enjoy your stay?” Mendanbar asked when Crown Prince Jorillam arrived at last.
“It was all right,” Jorillam said. He looked rumpled and vaguely dissatisfied. “But there weren’t any rats. I thought there’d be rats. There wasn’t a rack, either.”
“Jorillam!” Prince Rupert said sharply. “It’s not polite to complain about things like that. Where are your manners?”
“I don’t understand,” Jorillam said, frowning. “If there were rats and a rack, I’d be expected to object, wouldn’t I? So why can’t I complain when they aren’t there?”
“It’s not the same thing,” Rupert told him. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” he went on, turning to Mendanbar. “He’s used to getting his own way. I’m afraid I haven’t done a very good job of teaching him how to behave.”
“I behave just fine,” Jorillam said.
“I am beginning to understand why you wanted to abandon him in the Enchanted Forest,” Mendanbar said to Prince Rupert.
Rupert flushed. “No, no, it’s not that. I’m really very fond of the boy. But I have an obligation, you know, and there’s no getting out of it.”
“You can leave me here, Uncle,” Jorillam said persuasively. “That’s abandoning me in the Enchanted Forest, isn’t it?”
“I don’t think so,” Mendanbar put in quickly. He didn’t want to think about the problems the young Crown Prince could cause if he stayed at the castle. “There are too many people here for it to count as abandonment.”
Prince Rupert nodded gloomily. “I’m afraid you’re right. And frankly, I’m not at all sure that abandoning him is the right notion. I just can’t think of anything else wicked to do on short notice.”
“But you promised you’d abandon me in the Enchanted Forest,” Jorillam protested. “And I want to be abandoned and have all sorts of adventures and come home covered in glory.”
“You’re a little young for that,” Mendanbar commented, studying the Crown Prince. He smiled suddenly as an idea came to him. “What you need is some proper training.”
“There isn’t time,” Jorillam said smugly. “Uncle has to do something wicked to me right away.”
“Ah, but that’s just the point,” Mendanbar said. He turned to Prince Rupert, ignoring Jorillam’s suddenly wary expression. “Abandoning Crown Prince Jorillam won’t do you any good, because he wants to be abandoned. Letting him have his own way isn’t terribly wicked, even if it isn’t good for him.”
“I’m afraid you’re right,” Rupert said sadly.
“But Uncle—”
“On the other hand,” Mendanbar went on, disregarding Jorillam’s interjection, “if you promised you’d abandon him, breaking that promise would certainly be wicked. And if you sent him off to a private school for princes—”
“I don’t want to go to school!”
“Oh, my.” Prince Rupert looked from Mendanbar to Jorillam—who now looked thoroughly alarmed—and back. “I think I see what you’re getting at. If he hates the idea, then it probably is wicked, even if it’s good for him. And there’s breaking the promise, too.”
“And you wouldn’t have to tell anyone at home what you’d done with him,” Mendanbar said. “You could rule the country just as if you really had abandoned him in the forest, and no one would know. Surely misleading all those people would be wicked enough for your society.”
“I think you’re right,” Prince Rupert said, smiling for the first time since Mendanbar had met him. “I really think you’re right.” His face fell suddenly. “But how am I going to find a good school before sunset tomorrow?”
“Don’t worry about that,” Mendanbar said reassuringly. “I know just the place. It’s up in the Mountains of Morning, where no one is likely to run across it, and it’s run by a dwarf named Herman. If you like, I’ll send a messenger off right away to arrange things.”
“No!” said Jorillam.
“That would be wonderful,” said Prince Rupert with relief. “Ah, I don’t suppose this Herman person would be willing to write a letter to the Society explaining matters?”
“I don’t s
ee why not,” Mendanbar said. “But what do you want it for?”
“Just to confirm that I’m fulfilling the requirements,” Prince Rupert explained. “It is a rather unusual arrangement, you see, and I want to be sure the Society will think I’ve been wicked enough.”
“I understand,” Mendanbar told him. “Don’t worry about it. If Herman won’t write you a negative enough letter, I’ll send one myself. I’ll bet even the Right Honorable Wicked Stepmothers’ Traveling, Drinking, and Debating Society will believe the King of the Enchanted Forest.”
18
In Which Willin Finally Gets
to Arrange a Formal Celebration
For the next several days, Mendanbar was busier than he could remember being in a long, long time. Besides arranging for Crown Prince Jorillam’s schooling, a stream of messengers had to be sent to the dragons in the Mountains of Morning to explain where their King was and to warn them about the wizards.
Morwen and Telemain argued constantly about what they were finding out from the wizards’ staffs, and when they weren’t arguing, they were asking for obscure reference books and peculiar ingredients for their spells. Between the two of them, they kept the small castle staff busy hunting for things.
The wizards themselves seemed to have disappeared completely, but Mendanbar didn’t trust them to stay gone. He spent several hours every day checking the entire network of magic that enveloped the Enchanted Forest, looking for the tangles that wizards with staffs always caused, so that he would know if any of them returned. In the process, he found several more burned-out areas where the wizards had stolen the magic of the forest. Fortunately, none of the charred spots were very big, but repairing them was not an easy task, and Mendanbar worried constantly about what would happen if a wizard sneaked into the forest and soaked up a larger patch before he could be melted.
He confided this worry to Cimorene on the third day after Kazul’s rescue.
“What you really need is a way to keep them from soaking up magic in the first place,” said Cimorene. “Then it wouldn’t matter if they sneaked in, because they wouldn’t be able to do any real harm.”
“They could still cause plenty of trouble,” Mendanbar said. “But you’re right, it would solve a lot of problems. Unfortunately, I can’t think of a way to stop them.”
“Well, of course you can’t,” Cimorene said. “You don’t know enough about wizards and that ridiculous magic-absorbing spell of theirs. Why don’t you ask Telemain?”
So Mendanbar went off to find Telemain, who was with Morwen, working on the last of the wizards’ staffs. At first, Telemain was a little annoyed at being interrupted, but when Mendanbar explained his problem, however, the magician nodded.
“An automatic spell to reroute any magical power should do the trick,” Telemain said. “That way, anything they try to grab will just slide back where it belongs, and there will never be any new holes to fix.”
Morwen looked at Telemain in mild surprise. “You’re slipping,” she said. “I actually understood that.”
“Can you make up an automatic spell for me?” Mendanbar asked quickly, before Telemain could take offense.
“It shouldn’t be a problem,” Telemain said. “It’ll need some sort of anchor, though, or you’ll have to keep checking to see if it’s still working. Any ideas?”
The three of them discussed it for a few minutes, and finally Morwen suggested tying the spell to the sword. This turned out to be an even better idea than it first appeared. Working through the sword, Mendanbar could manipulate the power of the Enchanted Forest directly, and with Telemain’s help he made the new spell an integral part of the forest’s magic.
“What does that mean?” Cimorene asked when he sought her out to tell her how well her idea had worked.
“It means that if any wizards come into the Enchanted Forest, their staffs won’t absorb any magic, ever, for as long as they stay,” Mendanbar explained. “I won’t even have to check the spell very often, because it’s tied to the sword. As long as the sword is anywhere in the forest, the wizards can’t do a thing.”
Cimorene frowned. “They could still use the spells they have stored in their staffs, couldn’t they? And what if you have to leave the Enchanted Forest again?”
“I’ll have to take a different magic sword, that’s all,” Mendanbar said. “I ought to do that anyway, because of the way that one sprays magic around outside the forest. It’s not exactly inconspicuous.”
“Very true,” Cimorene said with a smile.
They were silent together for a moment. Then Cimorene shook her head. “Kazul will be ready to leave tomorrow. She thinks she’s ready today, but I told her not to push.”
“I—That’s good,” Mendanbar said. He hesitated, then said tentatively, “I suppose you’ll be going with her?”
“What else would I be doing?” Cimorene asked. She sounded more curious than sarcastic.
Mendanbar took a deep breath. “You could stay here. At the castle, I mean. With me.” This wasn’t coming out at all the way he had wanted it to, but it was too late to stop now. He hurried on, “As Queen of the Enchanted Forest, if you think you would like that. I would.”
“Would you, really?”
“Yes,” Mendanbar said, looking down. “I love you, and—and—”
“And you should have said that to begin with,” Cimorene interrupted, putting her arms around him. Mendanbar looked up, and the expression on her face made his heart begin to pound.
“Just to be sure I have this right,” Cimorene went on with a blinding smile, “did you just ask me to marry you?”
“Yes,” Mendanbar said. “At least, that’s what I meant.”
“Good. I will.”
Mendanbar tried to find something to say, but he was too happy to think. He leaned forward two inches and kissed Cimorene, and discovered that he didn’t need to say anything at all.
* * *
The first person they told was, of course, Kazul. Mendanbar was a little nervous about it, because from what he’d heard, dragons tended to get testy when their princesses ran off with someone, but Kazul didn’t seem to mind at all.
“Good for you,” she said to Mendanbar. “And congratulations to the pair of you.” Her eyelids lowered halfway, and she looked at Cimorene. “I’d been wondering how much longer you were going to stay.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Cimorene said indignantly. “I wasn’t planning to leave! This just sort of happened.”
“I know,” Kazul said. “But you’d have gone soon in any case. Now that you’ve gotten things organized, there isn’t really enough work to keep you busy in the Mountains of Morning. You wouldn’t have stayed long, once you started to get bored.”
“Living with dragons doesn’t sound boring to me,” Mendanbar said.
“That’s because you’ve never done it,” Kazul replied. “Being Queen of the Enchanted Forest will give Cimorene more scope for her talents.”
“Then you really don’t object?” Mendanbar asked.
“Why should I?” Kazul said. “You’re a nice enough person, as humans go, and you’ve been very polite about the whole thing. That doesn’t happen often. Normally, knights and princes just grab a princess and run. And most of the princesses don’t even bother to say good-bye, much less give proper notice.” She looked at Cimorene and sighed. “I’ll miss your cooking, though.”
“I can come back for a week or two, if you’d like, and train a replacement,” Cimorene offered.
“I may take you up on that, once I find one,” Kazul said thoughtfully.
“And in the meantime, you can come over for dinner a lot,” Mendanbar said, and both Cimorene and Kazul smiled at him.
* * *
When Willin heard about the engagement, he was delighted. The wedding of the King of the Enchanted Forest was just the sort of vast formal occasion the elf had been craving, and he threw himself into the preparations with enthusiasm. He didn’t even object when he learned that t
he bride wanted the King of the Dragons for her matron-of-honor and a witch for her bridesmaid.
“Kazul and Morwen are my best friends,” Cimorene explained. “Besides, if I have them, Mother won’t insist that my sisters be bridesmaids.”
“You have sisters?” Mendanbar asked, somewhat taken aback.
Cimorene nodded. “Six of them. They’re all perfectly lovely and sweet, and the sight of Kazul will probably scare them silly.”
“Typical princesses,” Mendanbar muttered, but without any active dislike. He didn’t seem to mind foolish princesses much anymore, as long as he didn’t have to marry one. It was amazing what a difference being engaged to Cimorene made.
“They aren’t as featherbrained as they sound,” Cimorene told him. “They just act as if they are.”
“I don’t think I like the sound of that,” Mendanbar said. “Are you sure they won’t want to be bridesmaids anyway? Maybe we should just elope.”
“No, it’s too late for that,” Cimorene told him. “Don’t worry about it, though. It will work out fine.”
“If you say so,” Mendanbar said, but he was not really convinced.
* * *
The note Cimorene’s mother sent to acknowledge the engagement only increased Mendanbar’s misgivings. I am delighted to hear that you are going to be properly settled at last, Cimorene dear, ran the note. I am enclosing a list of relatives and family friends who ought certainly to be included in your wedding plans, however unconventional those may be. Your father wishes to know which half of the kingdom your betrothed would prefer, as he is anxious to get the paperwork out of the way as soon as possible.
“Half the kingdom?” Mendanbar asked cautiously.
Cimorene looked more than a little put out. “It’s the usual reward for rescuing a princess from a dragon. I hoped they’d forgotten about it, but I should have known better. Mother would never do anything so incorrect.”
“Well, I don’t want it. One kingdom is more than enough for me.”
“Then you’d better write them immediately and tell them so,” Cimorene advised. “Otherwise they’ll have all the forms and documents and records written out, signed by twenty noble witnesses, and sealed by every member of Father’s Council, and you’ll never be able to get rid of it.”
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