Fractured Fairy Tales (23 page)

“I will come and find you, and if you are not a ghost, I will bring you here so we can be together for ever.”

“Just together, not forever. I have forever already, and it is too long.” She sighed and looked out at the stars in their inky velvet bed.

“Let us talk of sweeter things.”

They used the telescope, gazed closely at the stars and they shared insights into the changing face of the constellations.

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The prince set out on his epic quest with his man and several servants. They travelled light and made good speed through the Kingdom. The prince fell asleep in the saddle, and his man rode close to prevent falls, but the prince sat deep in the saddle, and the horse was intelligent enough to compensate. The entourage slept under the stars, while the prince gazed up, wide awake.

“Oh a forest, and a road, I thought never to know them for real.” She stood beside his bedroll and gazed up at the tree tops. He sat up and invited her to sit with him.

“Could we walk for a way? I have never been for a walk.”

They walked along the road, the way the prince had come, and talked of forests, plants, animals and dirt. There were so many things they wanted to talk to each other about, the world being so full of wonder and mystery.

“I should not stray far from my people.”

“No, you should not, Princeling.”

An ambush of brigands leaped out, and one tried to grab the girl. She screamed as his hands passed through her.

“Ghost? It’s a ghost.” Brigands are always superstitious, which caused them to flee.

The prince returned to the safety of his campsite, and they sat the night discussing if she were a ghost or no, and if superstitions were a safety reaction or irrational fear of the unknown. Finally, he lay back on his bedroll, and his eyelids closed of their own accord as the sky turned pink.

She opened her eyes and looked at the pink of the sky through her tower window.

“He comes.” She smiled and ran down the stairs without making her bed. The books held no lure for her, and she felt an unusual sensation in her abdomen. She rubbed it and wondered what might be the cause of such a feeling.

“Maybe I need to eat?” she found a book on digestion and pondered the possibility that the spell on the tower might be breaking.

That night they were by a lake and enjoyed the reflection of the moon on the rippled surface of the water. They saw a fish leap and splash, and she told him of her discovery.

“There was dust, and a page tore in a book. That has never happened before.”

“Is there a door in the tower?”

She shook her head.

“There has never been one.”

They stayed close to camp that night.

The Prince noted his usually alert guards slept as if enchanted, but did not chide them for it next day. They were alert, when he was not.

They entered the great forest and found the marker for the old village, three days in.

“There are old stories about these parts, my Prince.”

The prince’s man was not a teller of tall tales, so the prince listened respectfully.

“There was a mighty Baron who owned these lands, far and wide. He had a daughter as fair as the sunrise and a wife he loved with all his heart. A good man and fair, but his wife died, and he was bereft with grief.

“One day, he married again—in a politically adept move—and gained more power. The second wife died mysteriously, and soon he had married, maneuvered, and bullied his way into greater power, until he caught the attention of the king of the day.

“All of the other wives died in seemingly natural ways, but the king had some concerns that no man would have such great misfortune, and he sent his people to investigate. The Baron had killed them.

“The king sent word that he would marry the Baron’s daughter, so that they could have an alliance. The Baron flew into a fit of rage. His daughter was the image of his first wife, and he could not bear to lose her, so he hired the greatest magician of the era to build a tower to keep his daughter safe. The tower was built in the centre of the courtyard and the daughter was carried in while she slept. It had been furnished with everything a young girl could desire, except a way to leave.

“The Baron died in a skirmish later that year, and the magician—it is said—died of old age some decade later. Many tried to breach the tower, but to no avail. No axe or blade could penetrate it. There have been no magicians since. The people moved away. No one wanted to be near such an unlucky place. Finally, it was left to nature to take back, and now, it is nothing but old trees and rubble.”

“That is a fine tale, my man. Maybe we could find that tower. It seems a worthy quest.”

They rode on from the village marker and into thicker forest. It became so thick, they needed to dismount. The prince could not sleep when walking needed his attention. Soon, the forest was too thick for the horses, so they left them in a clearing with the servants.

The prince moved forward with his man and a few guards. He stumbled over a rock hidden amongst vines and realised he was in a ruin of some sort. The trees were as close as fence posts, with shrubs and vines weaving a tight barrier between them. The Prince felt too weak to lift a sword and tried to cut the greenery with his hunting knife.

“Let me, my Lord.” The guard slashed the vines with a mighty swipe of his sword, and the group moved forward. The sounds in the forest were hushed. The trees thinned a little, and the prince noted rocks at their base, covered in moss and fungi.

“The courtyard perhaps?” He moved forward eagerly. He had not seen the girl for four nights, not since they had reached the village marker, and he was eager to find her.

The girl fell asleep and woke again in the morning. The room was cold. She felt an urgent pain in her lower abdomen, and discovered her body leaked fluids. She was frightened and realised she was feeling fear. She did not know what to do about the leaking fluids, so she read an anatomy tome, and realised it was a natural function she did not need to concern herself with. It would happen again, but her throat and mouth felt dry, and she had no water to replenish the liquid she leaked.

Her upper abdomen made noises and felt empty. She found herself wondering about the sensations and if he also felt these things. The tower felt cold and she sneezed, surprising herself with the noise and the experience.

“A sneeze must be experienced to truly appreciate it,” she said to herself and took up a few books to read about things she would experience as real not just as words. She brushed something off the page and looked at the fine particles on her hand. “Is this dust?”

She read and paced, eager to tell him about her new feelings. Yet, when she went to her room, it was too cold. She took the blanket back down to the room with the books and curled in her chair to try and sleep. She shivered and sleep would not come.

“Can I light a fire?” She thought of the crackling blaze in the prince’s room and sought a book to tell her how. She found the information about flint and steel and felt defeat, as she had neither. She piled up books into a small castle, lay scrolls on the floor of it and put her blanket and herself inside to keep warm.

She woke in the morning and heard a bird call for the first time. She listened in fascination as birds sang to each other from outside her walls. Her body leaked again, and her throat felt dry and sore. She could not seem to get saliva to wet her tongue. Her head felt sore and fuzzy, but she had no energy to spare to explore these new sensations.

Her thirst grew desperate, and she thought about the window. Climbing the stairs felt difficult and her limbs weary; she had not slept long in the cold night and uncomfortable, makeshift bed. The window had droplets of water on it, but she could not reach, and the thirst tortured her. She lay on the bed and tried to sleep. She was too cold, and her throat hurt so much she could not shut her mind down. The night crawled by interminably.

She rolled off the bed when the sky lightened and trudged back down the stairs. She tripped on a loose board, tumbling the last few steps to the floor below. Her knees, hands and elbows had scrapes. She lay still and cried, leaking more water from her eyes. Her head pounded. She crawled into the book room and curled up on her scrolls. Her body had stopped leaking, but she was shivering uncontrollably. She pulled the blanket over herself, but it made no difference. She shut her eyes.

The prince and his man walked around the tower for the fourth time. “It is no good, my Lord, there are no entrances.” The guards lounged in a sunny spot in the clearest part of the courtyard.

“Perhaps there is a way in from under the tower? How would they have put the girl in the tower to begin with?” The prince had bounced back with energy to spare after four good nights of sleep.

“There will only be skeletons and spider webs in there, My Lord.” The manservant spread his hands in defeat.

“Think of the adventure, my man. Think of the hidden treasures. Think of the glory. Come on. let’s explore the older part of the building.” The prince slapped him heartily on the shoulder.

“It could be too dangerous, what if it collapses?”

“You sound like my old nursemaid, man.” The prince stabbed at the tower with his hunting knife, which slid through the mortar between the stones. “Look at that. Let’s dig. We can make a gap in the wall.”

The prince set to, eagerly chipping away the mortar and dragging out a stone. He called his men, and they all set to with enough vigour to shift a good size gap in the tower wall. Sunlight flooded into the space. The prince was halted from climbing through by his man.

“I’ll go first, my Lord, just to be on the safe side.”

The prince stepped aside a little ungraciously. He waited the length of three heartbeats and followed. Inside, the circular room smelled of urine and dusty books.

“How peculiar.”

Books lined the far wall from floor to ceiling in row on row, but the prince was eager to explore the tower and headed for the door. “Come on let’s find her.”

His man looked puzzled, but followed his prince into the stairwell.

“Mind the stairs my man, some have loose boards.” The sound of footsteps pounding up the stairwell could be heard echoing down the circular walls.

Inside her room, the prince stopped. The bed did not have mitred corners or a blanket on it. The room stank of strong urine and dark patches marked the floor.

“No!” he cried in anguish. “If time has returned, she has been locked in here for days with no water, and the nights have been so cold?” The prince hurtled back down the stairs, almost sending his man to his death. Both men steadied each other. “We have to find her, come let us return to the room of books.” The prince continued his headlong flight and ran to the bookshelves.

“Who are we finding, my Lord?” The puzzled manservant followed his lord.

Amongst the scrolls, her lips blue and cracked, her cheeks sunken, her heart beat a rapid flutter, the prince gazed down upon her.

“Water, fetch my bottle urgently.”

The manservant scrambled back through the hole in the wall and returned promptly. The prince unstoppered it and tilted the bottle.

“Slowly, my Lord, or she will be ill.”

“She will need food and some fresh clothing. Mine will suffice.” The water fell in single droplets onto her mouth. He slid a finger past her lips to part them and poured a little more water onto her tongue. Her breath reeked of near death. She swallowed and gasped. He held her arms back from clutching at the bottle and dripped a little on her crusted eyelids and more drops in her mouth.

“Slowly, slowly or you will be ill,” he crooned softly to her.

“More,” she croaked, and he let her have some more. She swallowed again and again. He stopped.

“More,” she croaked again.

“Not yet, my Lady.” He held the bottle out of reach. “Let your stomach settle.”

She whimpered, and his heart ached at the sound, but he forced himself to wait.

“Here you go,” he crooned gently and lifted her up to a sitting position. He held the bottle to her mouth and let her take a large gulp of water, then lay her back down. He lifted her feet and placed books under them to keep them elevated.

The manservant returned with clothes and food.

“My Lord, the men are wary of this place, they fear enchantments and ancient evil.”

“My fear, good man, is that we almost came too late. One more day, and this young lady would have been beyond my reach. The enchantment has ended, the tower is breached. Leave me to assist her as a ladies maid should. Bring me warm water, if you would be so kind. I will wash and dress her, so we may travel home. Tell our people they have nothing to fear.”

The prince held his lady, gently washed and carefully dressed, close to his chest and smoothed back her hair. She took small sips of water, and they rested for the night.

“You found me,” she said in awe. “I thought dark things, and I felt despair.”

“I said I would,” his voice held a promise kept. “We have no need to fear.”

They watched the fire the servants set and ate a simple meal. The flames danced high, flickering golden light in their eyes. They held each other close and slept.