Sleeping Beauty (Faerie Tale Collection) (3 page)

The other two burst into laughter. Even the prince could not help himself. He rolled his eyes and grinned before asking, “Are you all mad? Do you honestly have nothing else to do with your time that you must goad me into this nonsense?”

Lord Taltson shrugged and looked at the other men. “I cannot think of anything more worthwhile than this, can you, George? Michael?”

“No,” the king replied, his eyes fixed on Darién. “Come, man, do it. Think of the lark it would be! Think of the adventure!”

The prince shook his head. “This is lunacy.” He grinned again and put a hand on his hip while rubbing his jaw with the other. “And if I do this insanity—if I actually track down that dastardly charmed spirit and release her to die the savage death she no doubt deserves—will you leave me forever in peace about this twaddle?”

“Forever,” responded the king.

“In peace,” Humphrey confirmed.

Darién pointed to each of them. “You all look way too happy about this turn of events to be considered sane.”

George waggled his eyes. “Oh, we know. But our sanity will be well worth the enjoyment of watching you attempt the impossible.”

The prince matched that waggle with a determined gleam in his own eyes. “I will do it,” he announced to their excited whoop, “But just so we are perfectly clear, things will be done on my terms. You will all join me and witness this stupidity first hand.” He paused a moment and then added, “I want us all to ask around and collect as much information as we can about this legend—try to find out anything we may have missed, or did not realize before. And once we get there and you boys realize how much more superior I am and know for a fact I was right all along, then I want to hear nothing about this again.”

The king rubbed his hands together. “Perfect. When do we go?”

The prince let out an exasperated sigh. “Tomorrow week. Let’s get this torture over as soon as possible. Can you be ready to ride in eight days?”

Lord Hadden nodded. “There are a few things I need to sort out with my staff, but I think it is certainly doable.”

“Good. George is in, how about you two?”

The king and Lord Taltson looked at each other and smiled. Everything was going exactly as they had predicted and planned.

“Sounds ideal,” Humphrey answered.

Darién glared slightly. Something was not quite right with this trio, he was positive they had a hidden agenda up their sleeves, but he would be hanged if he was going to say he was backing out now. “Fine then, meet here at daybreak tomorrow week and let the adventure begin.”

***

Queen Aleyna giggled and tossed a bit of flour at Margie, the cook. “There! Now you look like you have been working all day.”

Margie gasped. “Your majesty! My queen! You cannot be in here playing about in the flour. It will not do.” She grinned as she brushed the powder off her apron.

“And why is that? Why must I be like all the other queens? Why can’t I be a normal person like you?”

“Because you are royalty, Your Majesty.” She reached over and pulled the rolling pin out of Aleyna’s hand.

“I don’t want to be. I want to live and laugh and run and be free—like you.” The young queen walked over to the hook upon the wall and fetched an apron. “Please let me help prepare something. Why must we have this battle every single day? Will you never see me as an equal?”

“Never.” She sighed and handed over the rolling pin. “You are my queen, and I cannot tell you what to do, though I will attempt to make you see propriety at some point in your life. Your mother would certainly have had an apoplexy had she seen the way you would one day rule and run about the castle as you do.” She pointed over to the rising dough sitting in a large wooden bowl. “You may work on the tarts.”

“Thank you!” Aleyna smiled and began to busy herself with preparing the counter for rolling with flour. “One day I would love to be a cook like you.”

“Like me?” Margie shook her head and walked over to the fireplace to stir the strawberry jam that had begun to simmer in the large pot. “Listen here, Your Majesty, I know you’re very young—too young to be a queen—but you are way too old to be getting these flits of fancy in your head all the time. My dear, I know your love for cooking—and it is a great shame I gave in and introduced you to the skill all those years ago—but, my wee little one, you can’t just be wishing away your rightful throne on doing menial work.”

The queen laughed and pinched off a section of dough to roll out. “But it is not tedious to me. It is fun and challenging and exciting. It is a talent I possess and something that brings me great joy. Cannot a queen have a law decreed that she is allowed to bake
and
reign?” She glanced over at the old woman as Margie knelt at the fire to relieve the pain in her back while she stirred. “And you need the help.”

Margie muttered something under her breath.

“Tis true!” Aleyna rolled the dough until it was nice and thin and began to slice it with a sharp knife. She wished she could do more to help the dear woman, but Margie would never allow her near the fireplace—it could soil her gown—let alone any of the harder tasks within the kitchen walls. As if she cared one wit about her silly gowns! Life was more important than clothing anyhow, and though she could not remember a good deal of her real family, she did love this woman as much as she did her own mother. She only wished Margie would allow her to help more, and take some of the burden off of her stubborn shoulders. The queen sighed quietly and decided perhaps now was a good time to change the subject. “Who shall we send the tarts and jams to today?”

Margie glanced up from the simmering pot and wiped her brow. “I was thinking there were about ten or twelve families who could use a bit of pick-me-up. Dr. Jenson was telling me about his patients just yesterday and I thought it’d be a good way to lift their spirits and give them an added treat. Is there anyone you would particularly like to visit today?”

Aleyna shrugged as she began rolling out the second batch of tarts, the first resting nicely on the pan, waiting for a spoonful of jam to be placed in the center of each square before folding and baking in the brick oven. “Perhaps the stable boys could enjoy a few extra sweets this morning. And the under gardener’s wife could probably use some more jam, we haven’t taken any to her for a while.”

“What we need is to find a good decent prince or king to give this to.”

“Excuse me?” Aleyna laughed. “Did you just say something about a prince or king?”

Margie expelled a huge breath and stood up rubbing her lower back as she did so. “Yes, my queen. Yes. We need some royalty around here or none of us will ever be able to get the true rest we require.”

She took up at her friend’s sharp tone and tilted her head to the side. “I do not understand your meaning. What has a prince or king got to do with anything?”

Waving her hands and fetching the thick towels, she said, “Never you mind I said any such thing. Just an old woman’s mutterings.” She moved to the pot and began to lift it.

“Wait! Don’t you dare try and haul that up again.” Aleyna pulled the woman away and called for a footman to come and fetch the pot for them both.

Once it was set on the counter and the footman had been sent on his way and Margie began to fill the jars with the delicious-smelling piping hot strawberry substance, Aleyna tried to broach the subject again. “What did you mean about finding royalty to give us true rest?”

She shook her head. “I said never you mind about that. It was pure nonsense.”

The queen glanced over, her eyes narrowing in confusion. “What are you hiding from me? What will you not say? And how in the world would a man be able change anything? Does something need to be changed?”

CHAPTER FOUR

EZRALON STARTLED AT THE glowing pulse that swept over the dome protecting the girl. What just happened? He stood up and placed his horn against the transparent shield to read what had created the odd pulsation. After a moment of connecting, he was able to clear his mind. It would seem something had shifted in the queen’s conscience, something to make her question what she knew.

What would have created such a shift? And why now of all times? His horn glowed brightly as he felt an overwhelming sense of peace settle warmly over him. Whatever had happened, it would seem it was meant to be. Pulling his horn away, he looked down at the sleeping girl. Could she be ready to face her past? Change would begin soon now, and prepared or not, it seemed as though they had no choice. She would have to be.

***

Darién’s horse came over the crest of the hill first, quickly followed by the other three. They pulled up at the top of the small knoll and stared at the horror before them. The valley below was bleak and neglected. The trees were dark and barren of any life and the fields full of tangled weeds and balding ground. High above a fire-ravaged village there rose a tall castle, once a fortress of strength and beauty, now a shell of its former grandeur and glory. Deserted and eerily stark, shreds of fabric could just barely be seen flapping wildly in the breeze through the shattered windows.

Great heavens! It was even worse than he imagined. Turning in the saddle, Darién called out to the somber group. “Now do you see what a fool’s errand this has become?” He had never arrived at such a disenchanting place in all his life. If this is what it looked like under a sleeping spell, how much worse would it become once the protection was lifted? “Come, let us head home.” Tugging on the horse, he rotated until he was facing back down the hill. “We have no reason to be here.”

“Wait. We have come all this way, aren’t you just a little curious to see it?” asked Michael as he rode up to him.

“Are you mad? Look around you. There is absolutely nothing here to see. It is a barren wasteland.”

“Come on, you ol’ spoilsport, and let us have a look,” exclaimed George as he headed down the slope toward the village.

Humphrey was quick to follow. “Perhaps we will find something of worth.”

George laughed. “A treasure!”

“Or a skeleton,” answered Humphrey.

“Or a ghost,” mumbled the king quietly under his breath.

“I heard that.” Darién shifted in the saddle and sighed as he watched the other two bound their way into the mayhem.

Michael glanced over at the prince. “Well, we might as well join them before one or the other loses a limb.”

“I am afraid they have already lost their minds.”

“Come now; tell me you are not just a bit curious as to what we may find down there.”

“I cannot begin to fathom what we would find.” Darién shook his head and smirked. “And you believe there is some sleeping queen in the midst of this all. Honestly, perhaps your head has gone missing as well.”

Michael pursed his lips and took in the horrific scene surrounding them. “She is said to be a spirit that wanders the halls of that castle. Stories of her tell of a beauty unmatched. Queen Aleyna is supposedly the most breathtaking woman ever to behold.”

“Yes. I am sure many a man has lost his breath over the sight of her gruesome ghoulish form coming upon them.” Darién folded his arms, the reins tightly within his grasp. “And what is this nonsense anyway? Why must people cling to the hope that she is still living, that she is under some sort of spell? It is clear by these ruins what has happened here. And it only proves the point more she has been killed along with the rest, as there are those who have seen her ghost. Sincerely I ask, why are we here again? To what purpose does this verify anything to scamper about through charred remains and release a sleeping queen who is already dead?”

Michael grinned and nudged his horse forward. “Because it is fun, boy. Relax a little and enjoy the moment. Have an adventure. Who knows, once you prove to us all you are not reluctant to go down because of the spirit and you are brave enough to meet her, you might very well fall in love with the phantom.”

“Yes, because that is so evidently practical. Falling in love with some specter is definitely what I have dreamed about since I was a wee lad.”

Michael did not answer him, nor did he turn back. Darién watched in growing frustration as his friend’s horse slowly picked its way down the side of the hill and into the ruins below.

“Am I the only one who is somewhat sane around here?” he mumbled out loud. He sat for a minute in the silence pondering his unfortunate luck, then groaned when he saw Humphrey burst out of a charred house, sans his horse, waving a large blackened stick and beginning to chase George who had just happened past. Lord Hadden was quick to defend himself with a metal tool of some kind. The men hooted and hollered and continued to playfully dodge and escape the other crunching on fragile remnants until the king slipped off his horse and approached. He could not understand the words he spoke to them, but he watched the other two sober up and glance his way.

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake,” he muttered. “If I do not join them soon, they will all persuade themselves it is because I am too fearful.” With a sigh and a nudge he tugged his horse’s reins to convince the beast to slowly make its way down the hill.

“So, the great prince has finally mustered up the courage to come!” shouted Lord Taltson.

Darién could not hear their sniggering, but he could see it. He waited until he drew within earshot before he calmly stated, “Someone had to come and make sure you fools did not damage yourselves and cause more mischief than needed right now.”

“That is what his Majesty is here for.” George nudged the king and then grinned up at Darién, his blond hair haphazardly blowing in the wind. He already had bits of soot tingeing the ends.

The prince shook his head and prodded his horse forward. “Well, you three can pursue yourselves around the village all you want. I’m going to make my way up to the castle and get this nonsense over with.” With those words, he pressed the horse to pick up speed. By the time they had made it out of the village and away from the splintered ruins and onto the more cleared winding path leading to the castle, the other three had mounted their steeds and were close behind.

The group approached the large fortress in reverent silence. Even the horses’ hooves clomped softer upon the cobblestone as they entered the great courtyard. The shredded fabric waving creepily in the breeze and the shattered multi-colored glass beneath them was too ominous for words.