Goose Chase (17 page)

The Prince looked about him and smiled rather wanly. "By my fay, mistress, methinks you are getting the better part of the bargain in marrying the King after all. 1 have naught like so fine a house in which to receive you."

I sniffed. "O, I don't know," I said, pretending to a disdain which I did not in fact feel. "These rushes underfoot are not of the freshest. And that table needs dusting."

We were conducted through the great banqueting room and on to the throne room, which was an equally impres
sive chamber. And 'twas no less striking for containing a large group of handsomely attired people, clustered about the King of Gilboa, who was seated upon his golden throne.

"Aaaah," sighed the King with deep satisfaction as we came to a halt before him. "Here are they at last before me: my bride and my enemy, all tied up in ribands and bows, as pretty a present as any man could ask for."

A
STITCH IN TIME SAVES NINE.

—P
ROVERB

"Your Royal Highness," I said, curtsying deeply.

The Prince merely inclined his head. He did not seem anxious to pacify the King.

The King smiled. 'Twas a smile so wicked it took my breath away. His good humor made him no more attractive as a marital prospect.

"You really cannot imagine," he said, "how deeply I am indebted to you both. How very
kind
of you to turn up like this and save me the trouble and expense of searching for you. And both together, too; so convenient. I must say, I'm quite overwhelmed."

"A substantial ransom will of course be offered for my return, and for the return of this lady, unharmed, to Dorloo," said the Prince coldly. We both knew that there was little chance of the King taking up this offer, but it had to be made.

"Quite unnecessary, I assure you, as your little country is now a part of Gilboa. And as our countries are now one, there is need only for one ruler. Too many Kings cause confusion, you know."

We said naught. It occurred to me that the Prince was no longer a Prince since his father's death, but a King.

"I see that my bride has brought along her entourage. These ladies, I assume"—the King of Gilboa gestured at the Geese, who had followed us into the throne room and were looking about with apparent interest—"are your attendants. Is that not so, my dear?"

"They are my most dearly beloved Geese, sire."

"I see. Pardon my criticism, beloved, but while you are no less lovely than memory led me to believe, you are somewhat less neat and orderly in your attire. To speak crudely, both you and your companion give the appearance of having been rolled in a muck heap in the not-too-distant past."

I looked down at my torn dress and then over at the Prince (I could not help but think of him as the Prince). 'Twas true enough that we were less than tidy. Mud stained both my gown and his white suit. River weed clung to the jagged hem of my dress and also snaked down one of his legs into his boot. His Highness was in addition clutching a large bird under one arm. None of this enhanced our dignity.

"We have had little leisure for personal grooming, sire," I conceded.

"We must remedy that lack," said the King. "I believe I once remarked that that very gown you are wearing was more than adequate for your wedding day. I say so no
longer. I'll not have such a ragged tatterdemalion stand beside me as my wedded wife. Let me think. Do I not recall that your wedding garments, upon which you toiled for so long, were carried in that bag which you have on your arm? Come, let me see what is inside."

I hesitated, but seeing that there was no help for it, I reluctantly approached and handed the King my bag. He took it and unceremoniously turned it upside down, dropping the contents on the ground before him. I bit my lip to see the little crowns rolling about on the stone floor, but held my tongue.

"What the devil—?" he said, holding up one of the Goose gowns.

"They are —" I faltered. "They belong to my Geese. As do the little crowns."

The King's smile grew wider and wider, until he looked like naught but a gnarled old crocodile. "By my oath, the Goose Girl plays at dolls and poppets with those mangy old birds. Very well, your Geese shall attend your wedding in their festive apparel and make merry with us. 'Tis only fair, after all: tonight we provide
them
with a feast, for soon enough they shall be providing
us
with a feast."

I swallowed but remained silent.

"And what are these?" He held out the ruby necklace and ring, and my crown, which I had removed while I combed my hair. The light from the high windows beamed down on them and bathed us in a crimson glow. The gems seemed larger than they had when I last laid eyes upon them.

The King turned them over in his hands. "These are a dowry well worth having, Goose Girl. The crown I recognize as one you were wont to wear. Whence came the others?"

"They are not mine, sire."

"Nonsense. Then they are mine, since I have found them here in my own hall, and I give them to you as a bride gift. I wish you to wear them tonight."

I bowed my head. The King seemed struck by my ruby crown; he looked from it to the other jewelry in his hand and frowned. "I have not seen rubies like these for many years," he murmured to himself. Then he shrugged his shoulders and returned to his perusal of my belongings.

'Ah! And here is the fabled golden wedding gown. Have you finished it yet, Goose Girl?"

"Not quite, sire."

"What do you mean? Look," he said, shaking it out and holding it up before him like a dressmaker displaying her goods. "Tis quite perfect now, and neatly sewn, to boot."

"There remains three inches of the hem, my lord. Allow me to show you." I stooped and lifted the hem for his inspection.

"Then sit down and finish it, Goose Girl. You said, did you not, that you would marry when it was completed? We will wait while you do so."

A manservant hurried forward with a chair and I sank into it. I held up my bound hands to show that I could not
sew thus tied; the King nodded and the servant cut my fetters off.

"I have no scissors," I protested.

"Get them," he ordered the servant.

We waited in silence as the man departed to procure the necessary tool. When he returned and handed me the scissors I opened my mouth once again.

"Sire, I cannot complete the task until—"

"That will do, Goose Girl. Finish the dress. At once."

As there was naught else to be done, I threaded my needle and commenced sewing. This time I used the tiniest stitches 1 could manage, but all the same, 'twas over in no time at all. At the last, however, I did not knot the thread but left it loose and contrived to pull out the last stitch as I lowered the hem to the floor. I intended to try to avoid this marriage to the bitter end, and if by any chance I was successful, I did not wish for anyone to claim that I had broke my bond.

"Excellent," said the King. "Now go and prepare for your wedding. And take those animals with you."

I looked over at the Prince. The King's glance followed mine, then flicked to the soldiers who had escorted us.

"Take him out and kill him," said the King. "Display the head for the people to see."

The Prince's expression did not alter, but his whole form stiffened.

I sank to my knees before the King.

"I beg you, sire, not to do this. If there is aught that I may do that will persuade you to spare his life, be assured, I will do it. Anything, Your Highness, anything at all."

"It grieves me to refuse such a pretty request, but refuse it I must. However, if it pleases you to have your swain cling to life until after your wedding, I see no reason against it. Take him to the dungeon," he said to the soldiers, "there to await execution when I give the word."

Relieved to have won for the Prince at least this small reprieve, I turned to go. Even the King could hardly send his soldiers in to guard me while I bathed. Mayhap I might climb unobserved out of my window and do—well, whatever I might.

"I have another little gift for you, Goose Girl," said the King slyly. Another attendant, who may be of more practical use than your Geese. There is a lady whom I wish to honor by making her your lady-in-waiting. I can imagine no greater proof of my esteem, or aught that would better please her."

He nodded once again at the manservant, who this time went to the door, opened it, and ushered in ... the Baroness.

"Your ... Your Ladyship," I said when I had recovered my composure. I began to curtsy but the King forestalled me.

"Tut tut, Goose Girl. You must not curtsy to the Baroness, but she to thee. You rank above her now."

With a look that longed to melt my flesh like butter in a
bakery on a hot summer's day, the Baroness dipped her knees perhaps half an inch.

"The Baroness is my childhood sweetheart, you know. You ladies will no doubt have a pleasant gossip, as I am told that females like to do when their men are not about."

He turned to the Baroness. "And you, my dear, will be sure to keep a rather closer eye on my pretty little lamb, will you not? I lost her once when she was in your keeping, and I could not bear to do so again."

The Baroness met his eye with a look as freezing cold as the one she had bestowed upon me had been blistering hot. She did not reply but just barely nodded her head. No love was lost there, thought I. 'Twas ambition only made her wish to be his wife.

We were all now marched off to our separate accommodations, the Prince to the dungeon and my Geese, the Baroness, and I to the Queen's chambers. The Prince still had Little Echo, I realized, and I reached out my arms to take her. The Prince smiled at me as he handed her to me. 'Twas a smile that made my heart feel curiously tight in my chest, as though 'twere about to burst. 1 swallowed a sob and went onward. I held Little Echo in a grip of steel, for the bird was making a foolish fuss.

When once we had reached the Queen's quarters, a soldier opened the door for us and ushered us in. In an apparent attempt to relieve her feelings at least a little, the Baroness grasped me roughly by the arm and thrust me inside. I broke away and, lifting my skirts and calling to my
Geese, ran into the inner room, where a steaming, scented bath and three startled maidservants awaited. I slammed the door shut and pushed a large heavy chair into position before it.

I smiled at the maidservants, who were regarding the Geese with some dismay.

"I believe that 1
could
do with a bath, thank you. If my lady-in-waiting, the Baroness of Breakabeen, wishes an audience, pray tell her that I am not to be disturbed." And I began removing my tattered dress.

'Twas a lovely bath, even though my doom, and the Prince's doom, were slowly, inexorably closing over our heads. The Geese enjoyed it too. They took turns joining me in the bath, which was perfectly enormous. We splashed one another and scrubbed and preened and finally hopped out again, all pink (me) and white (the Geese) and smelling like a gardenful of flowers (everyone in the room—we had managed to get the three maidservants rather damp too).

When we were out, we set about dressing in our wedding finery. I explained to the maidservants that the King wished the Geese to be present in their gowns and crowns. They cried out in wonderment over the little dresses and crowns, and then shyly approached the Geese to offer to assist them in dressing.

Much to my amazement, the Geese submitted to these attentions, standing quite still and behaving with perfect decorum while the young women slipped the dresses onto their bodies and placed the crowns neatly on their heads.

"Why, thou fickle flock of fowl! Thou wert never so mannerly for me!" I cried. But by then the women had turned to me and were holding the great golden gown up over my head, and my displeasure was smothered in heavy folds of cloth of gold.

When the dress was smoothed down over my form and my hair combed out (and the gold dust collected—the King had left very specific orders about that), the serving women sighed with pleasure.

"Look! Look how beautiful!" And they pulled a large looking glass out of the corner for me to see.

I made a face at the girl in the mirror. What was my beauty to me but a curse and a burden? Tho' I must concede that I looked positively ravishing. My hair, stupid thing, was evidently delighted to be going to a feast and had added some touches of its own. It had grown several feet, so that it reached the floor. Tiny roses and little yellow starlike flowers had appeared, woven through my locks and held by slender golden ribands.

My gown fitted me like a glove. The collar, stiff with embroidery, fanned out regally about my neck, while my bosom was partly exposed, the neckline swooping down prettily in a way which would perfectly show off the ruby necklace.

My attendants were grieved that my Geese should have crowns and I have none, but I assured them that the King was retaining my jewelry and would no doubt be using the ring for the wedding ceremony and the crown for my coro
nation as Queen. Satisfied, they let me go. They pulled the heavy chair away from the doorway, and I, treading as lightly as I might, warily peeked through the doorway.

Immediately, my arm was grasped by the Baroness and I was dragged into the outer chamber. I was beginning to be annoyed by this behavior, which seemed to be becoming a habit with Her Ladyship. I snatched my arm back, at some risk of tearing my sleeve.

"You wished to speak with me, madam?" I asked coldly.

The Baroness fixed me with a steely eye.

"Have you told him yet?"

"Have I told who what yet, Your Ladyship?" I asked.

"Have you told the King your name, you fool!"

The subject of my name also seemed to be becoming something of an obsession with the Baroness.

"No," I said, neglecting to add the customary title of honor.

"Then do not," she replied. "As you value your life, do not do so."

W
EDDING IS DESTINY,
AND HANGING LIKEWISE.

—J
OHN
H
EYWOOD,
P
ROVERBS