Princess Ben

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by Catherine Gilbert Murdock


  "Come forward," she ordered the geographer. "Are we not correct in assuming that infiltrators must traverse this narrow canyon to reach our citadel? Pray answer honestly."

  The man squirmed and perspired, but at last conceded the queen spoke true.

  "Then we shall erect a barricade," proclaimed Sophia, her fingernail denting the paper, "precisely here. Just as that great work of the Chinese emperors preserved their nation from the Mongol hordes, so will this wall protect us. It shall be a marvel of construction, and it shall make our nation proud.

  ***

  Sophia plunged into the construction of "Ferdinand's Wall" (as she christened it) with unprecedented and prodigious enthusiasm. Stating that she wished her husband's tomb completed for the country's biennial autumn festival, she assembled surveyors, miners, masons, bricklayers, blacksmiths, carpenters, charcoal burners, and myriad other laborers high up the mountain, sequestered from their families to put all their energy into the task. The ruse thus isolated the entire workforce from loose lips and spies. Claiming headache and the need for absolute solitude, she spent weeks at a time locked in her chambers—though in reality she, too, lived at the work site, sleeping each night in a small striped pavilion.

  I had my own secret aspirations for Ferdinand's Wall. I longed to show my country my father's body and last words, his unequivocal indictment of Drachensbett, and to deliver him to my mother's side. Yet I could not reveal how I knew Prince Walter—King Walter—to be dead near the summit of Ancienne. Therefore, I prayed that the builders would somehow discover him, as his cave could not be more than half a day's climb from the Drachensbett trail. Alas, no Montagne explorer trekked that high, so cautious was every man about detection by Drachensbett. My father remained in his eternal sleep in that frigid cavern, frozen and alone. Disappointment, however, I kept to myself, and even heartbreak could not keep me from cheering the progress of this most essential fortification.

  The construction had an even more profound effect on me than this, for Sophia, in setting herself the task of defending Montagne, promptly and remorselessly abandoned all her domestic duties. The countless decisions of Chateau de Montagne—the menus, the interminable cycle of cleaning, the food stores to be laid up for winter, the disciplining and acquisition of staff—now mattered to her not in the least, and to my astonishment I found myself time and again facing a petitioner in need of an immediate verdict, with no other authority to whom to turn.

  My mistakes as de facto castle mistress were legion, and I shall not recount them here beyond offering the advice, well earned, that mint sauce should never be served with beef. But, having served as slave to the Drachensbett army, I reminded myself that other positions would surely be available should I fail as princess, and so set myself grimly to the task.

  So quickly and profoundly did I transform from dour chrysalis to eager butterfly that the household whispered I must surely yet be enchanted. In response, the queen on one of her sporadic appearances declared that if this be enchantment, it was enchantment worth preserving, and any person breaking it would be punished most severely. This understandably cast a pall on my interactions with the staff. How I might have recovered from this unassisted, I know not. As it was, I stumbled quite by accident upon another undertaking that I am certain stunned not only the castle's occupants but the entire country.

  It began one morning when Hildebert entered my chambers with a sneeze so loud that I feared her head would sail off her shoulders.

  "Forgib be, Your Highness, it is nudding,"she sniffled.

  I begged to differ, and at once led her to the kitchens in my dressing gown—which set certain tongues wagging I am sure—and installed her in a staff parlor. I then assembled a tea of garlic, pepper, and gingerroot, the same concoction my mother had so often made me, and, carrying the redolent cup to her side, insisted she not leave her couch for the remainder of the day.

  Strange as it may sound, the tea released fond and powerful memories of my mother—perhaps it was the smell, for we all of us have experienced that profound connection between scent and memory. I found myself again and again brewing another restorative draught for my handmaid. The power of rest being what it is, the woman healed quickly, with much praise for my care, and soon other staff members sought my advice for minor ailments—sore throats, stiff backs, an unfortunate boil. A baker with much hesitation and stumbling asked what I might recommend for his child suffering from stomachache. Scratching my head, I suggested a diet of peppermint tea and applesauce (another of my mother's remedies), and the baker returned the next week to inform me, awed, that it had worked to perfection.

  I soon found on my rides through the valley—for I now insisted my equestrian lessons extend beyond the castle walls—that a farm wife would wave me down, or a small child in need of some attention for a family member would shyly catch my eye. I took to carrying a small pack on my pony's saddle for just such emergencies, though I included half the equipment only in my mother's memory, having no more notion how to use it than I would a blacksmith's anvil. But my modest efforts produced great results, for through my work I came to know and respect the people of Montagne, and they to know me as well. I do not presume to make assumptions of their respect, but they appeared to enjoy my company, and appreciate greatly my little therapies. When I presented a kitten to a suffering crone—for I suspected her aches stemmed primarily from loneliness—she threw her bony arms around me and with tears in her eyes announced that I could have no more suitable name in all the world than Benevolence. So it was that in aiding the residents of Montagne, I became acquainted most of all with my own dear mother.

  ***

  In those turbulent summer months I found serenity with two others as well. Curiously enough, it was Hildebert of all people who brought me peace with the first of these individuals. Strolling through Market Town with her one morning, I overheard a man and woman berating each other.

  "How unhappy they sound!" I exclaimed. "Perhaps I could help.

  "Nay, Your Highness, you'd best stay clear of those two. Some folks have pasts what prevent a future.

  Her words, I reflected later, explained the relationship between my mother and the queen. That the two women had disliked each other was without question, and I admit my own hostility to Sophia stemmed in part from loyalty to Pence. As my opinion of the queen evolved, I often worried that in tolerating her I would somehow violate allegiance to my mother and her memory. Hildebert's wisdom thus reassured me mightily. Perhaps if my mother could see the queen now, attacking each construction challenge with the gusto of a sot uncorking a flagon, masonry dust caked to her skirts ... But Pence was gone outside my memory, and I was left to chart my own future with the queen.

  The second person with whom I made peace, my mother always in my consciousness, was none other than myself. When first I emerged from enchanted sleep, the castle population agreed that my newly reduced form would not last a month. As memories of Pence fed my heart, however, the hunger in my belly abated and I found that instead of comfort, I now ate for sustenance and, increasingly, taste (though my inroads on this front took far more time and diplomacy than I had anticipated). "Fill the stomach, not the soul, my mother used to say with a tweak of my nose as she watched me devour a fruit tart. Wise that she was, she recognized that for all the passion she put into her sauces and stews, food was only an emblem of devotion, not love itself. Now at last I saw the truth in her words.

  I must clarify yet again that I was not willowy, slender, delicate, gauzy, diaphanous, fine-boned, or any of the other descriptives forever linked to the daughters of kings, and that my figure, however feminine, yet conveyed that I suffered little in cold draughts. The endless twaddle about my silhouette revolted me, and I grew ever more incensed over the general reliance on appearance alone for repute, rank, and virtue. I kept my ears pricked for any superficial judgment and would gently remind the speaker that the person of whom they spoke had many other qualities, good and poor, beyond complexion and waistline
. This singular attempt to change the world's vanity took no small effort, but I derived great satisfaction from the measured conclusions the castle occupants eventually shared of each other—at least within my earshot.

  ***

  Given the activity that filled my days from dawn until long past nightfall, I had scant time for magical pursuits. When first I returned to Chateau de Montagne, I shied even from thinking the word magic, for I had no wish to rekindle the winter's hysteria. More than once I awoke in cold terror from a dream of Prince Florian announcing I was a witch. (Oddly, in the dream he murmured it fondly, stroking my hair as he leaned forward with a kiss.) Why he had not declared my status to all of Drachensbett, I could not deduce. In calmer moments I reminded myself 'twould be only his word against mine. Then, remembering his hissing disdain, I could not but believe that he found me too repellent even to discuss. The thought pained me, argue though I might that his opinion should not affect me in the least.

  My feelings—about magic, not Florian—calmed with time, but still I avoided the Wizard Tower. Each night as I settled myself into bed, I would remember I had not visited my wizard room in some time and would promise to do so soon, perhaps the next day; at the moment, however, I coveted only sleep. And when the next day came, I was needed in so many places, not as a Doppelschläferin but as a thinking young woman, that again the promise slipped away. I had experienced enough magic for some time, and I was wise enough to sense that magic, like life, cannot be accomplished in bits and stolen moments but requires all of one's attention, and my attention, happily, was elsewhere.

  SEVENTEEN

  Drachensbett continued to press for an answer to their Claim of Benevolent Succession. Lord Frederick delayed and obfuscated, employing every weapon in his diplomatic arsenal. The queen's headaches, alas, prevented discussion. Then came rumor of Prince Walter, or a man much resembling Prince Walter, in far-off Farina. A party was dispatched at once to investigate. The man proved to be only a sailor fleeing debtors, with no relation to Prince Walter or our nation...

  Summer passed; September bloomed. Diplomats, waiting in the throne room, demanded an answer. Hidden behind the throne room's portal, I chewed my knuckles in worry.

  Choosing her words with utmost care, Sophia spoke. "We are most grateful for your concern for our country's welfare, and we have no wish to violate this most honored doctrine. Therefore, having no alternative, we honor your Claim of Benevolent Succession.

  Her announcement sent a shock through the crowd—and Princess Benevolence.

  "However ... we make one small request. As you so clearly delineated when first you approached our court, the faults of the princess are legion. Yet of late she has applied herself with commendable diligence.

  "Your Majesty—and I mean this as no insult to your efforts—I observed her with my own eyes, the ambassador uttered coldly.

  "As have we all. But we, when our maladies permit, have also witnessed a transformation, and we cannot but believe, should the girl's enthusiasm continue, that she may yet develop—with proper mate, of course—into an acceptable ruler.

  "The prince has no interest in her hand.

  "That point has been made, the queen answered with equal frigidity. "Still, we would ask that Drachensbett for one month withhold its claim. October shall see our autumn festival, culminating with a great ball to honor our nation. At that event we shall present Benevolence to our neighbors, His Majesty Renaldo above all, that assessment of her capacity may be made.

  Inside my secret passage, I near collapsed from panic. The footmen nearest the portal peered about for the source of such peculiar squeaking until I gagged myself with my fist. Whose shoulders be broad and strong enough to bear the weight of a nation—to bear the weight when clad in an asphyxiating gown, trapped in the scorching beams of a thousand prying eyes? Not my shoulders, surely. Oh, if only the queen had asked me ere presenting me on a platter for the world to dissect! I could not imagine enduring a ball at all, particularly given the uniquely horrific circumstances of the previous one, and then to add to this toxic brew the requirement that I perform more admirably than ever a princess has, or my country be sacrificed forever...

  Consulting with his group, the ambassador at last answered that he could not speak for his king and so must return to court for further instructions.

  The queen nodded. Perhaps delay had been her intent all along, I thought with a leap of hope. The Drachensbett contingent withdrew, and, alone with my thoughts, I returned to my chambers and the nap upon which I had fervently insisted. That night at dinner, Beatrix and Sophia commented that my rest appeared to have left me oddly fatigued. As ever, no reference was made to Drachensbett, the queen not wishing to distress me.

  ***

  Days passed without answer. Eavesdropping, I learned that King Renaldo might easily construe Sophia's request as rejection, and so attack at his desire. The completion of Ferdinand's Wall grew ever more imperative, and bonfires burned through the night to light the men's work. The queen with her innate military instinct posted soldiers disguised as shepherds across Ancienne to detect any sign of infiltration. I could not but pity the soldiers, for the men came from shepherding stock, and grievous it must have been to return to the stinking flocks they had toiled so long to escape.

  Then, a fortnight after that fateful meeting, these patrolling soldiers discovered two strangers wandering the upper reaches of Ancienne. Though the men appeared to be only travelers from faraway lands, the soldiers took no chances, and promptly escorted them to Chateau de Montagne. The queen insisted on questioning them herself, inviting Lord Frederick to participate and me to observe.

  Led into the throne room, the men bowed in an adequate if generic fashion. They wore the dusty robes of wool merchants, down to the guild's rosette that guaranteed safe passage through foreign parts, and appeared suitably uncomfortable before the queen but not otherwise anxious.

  "We have heard tales of the court of Montagne, the larger man spoke. "But we never imagined to one day behold its beauties.

  "We appreciate your flattery," answered Sophia. "But still we wonder at your presence on our mountain, for its reaches are inaccessible to any but shepherd or sheep.

  The man smiled. "That be the cause of our troubles. You see, my companion has heard talk of a rare goat, with wool akin to cashmere, that occupies Drach—ah, Ancienne, as you term it.

  The queen stiffened at this mention of Drachensbett. "There is no goat.

  The smaller of the men now spoke. "We know that now, all too well. But in our explorations—conducted, as you might appreciate, with great secrecy—we wandered farther than intended and so came to the attention of certain well-armed shepherds.

  "Yes. Compelling your tale be. Yet our relationship with Drachensbett suffers, and should news of'well-armed shepherds' reach their ears, it will not bode well. Though the queen's face remained impassive, I had spent enough time with the woman in recent months to develop some insight into her temper, and I could sense her burgeoning frustration.

  "Your Majesty, I said softly. As one, the group turned upon me. Sophia frowned at my interruption, while the two strangers regarded me with the arrogance certain men forever display toward the weaker sex.

  Only Lord Frederick supported me. "Yes, Your Highness?

  "May we present Benevolence, Crown Princess of Montagne, declared Sophia belatedly.

  I swallowed. Since their entrance, I had studied the two men. Though their dress and mannerisms indicated without question their merchant status, I could not but wonder at their story. All my life I had devoured tales of Ancienne, more so since my return from Drachensbett, and now considered myself as well informed as the country's eldest sage. Yet never once had I heard whisper of cashmere goats. "Please, Your Majesty, their quest should be encouraged."

  The two men beamed smugly as Sophia scowled. "Benevolence, you know not your place—

  "Do not forget that cashmere would line our pockets as well as their own. I suggest a platoon of
soldiers accompany these merchants to the highest reaches of Ancienne, supply them with the most delectable foodstuffs—roast pig, spiced wine, hot meat pies—and, taking care to secure the merchants that they do not wander into the wrong hands, leave them for a week to conduct their investigation unimpeded.

  The queen stared at me in shock, but I had eyes only for the strangers, whose erect confidence wilted with every word I spoke.

  "D-de-delectable f-f-foodstuffs? the smaller man asked. "S-s-secure?

  I nodded. "In a manner that would permit free movement about your campsite, of course. Perhaps some length of chain, a comfortable ankle ring?

  The men gaped in horror at each other. "That is—we would never want to disturb—we are not ambitious merchants—" the first man began.

  "We are not merchants at all! piped up the smaller one. He fell to his knees before the queen. Hastily the other followed, and together they reached for the queen's hem.

  "Indeed," said the queen, flicking her skirt from their reach. "What be your work?

  "To m-monitor Montagne's activities, in pr-preparation for attack.

  "Attack? When?

  The two men gulped, struggling for an answer.

  "We quite relish, she prodded, "the notion of chaining you to Ancienne.

  "They shall attack with the full moon! The prince leads a battalion to take the castle.

  "Have you other information for us?

  "No. Truly! We were kept from further planning, lest we be ... captured.

  "The full moon comes tomorrow night, Lord Frederick whispered.

  "Remove them! Sophia gestured as if the two spies were overcooked beef. They were dragged from the room fearfully avoiding my eye.

  Lord Frederick whooped and clapped me on the back with the enthusiasm of a man a third his age, and Sophia herself could not suppress a smile. "Tell us, Benevolence, how did you manage ... We mean to say, how...?

  "I simply presented to them the benefits of speaking the truth, I offered with a shrug.

 

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