The Hero's Guide to Being an Outlaw (3 page)

P
rince Gustav had been in worse predicaments. There was, of course, the time he was thrown from a high tower into a thorny bramble (the incident after which Rapunzel famously healed him). And more recently he nearly had the life choked out of him by a ridiculously oversize dungeon keeper (Rapunzel fixed him up after that one, too). So to the long-haired, big-muscled, well-armored Gustav, having a couple of arrows in his shoulder and one leg caught in a steel-jawed bugbear trap felt like something he could deal with on his own. Sure, it hurt worse than the time his brothers had slipped an angry porcupine into his bed, and yes, he was stuck with no way to reach food or water, but he wasn’t
really
worried. Hey, he was in the wilderness; he figured that eventually some impatient buzzard would assume he was dead already, start sniffing around a little too close, and—
boom!
—drumsticks! No, this was a situation Gustav felt pretty certain he could handle.

Until Rapunzel showed up.

He groaned the moment he saw her rosy-cheeked face appear from behind a gnarled fir tree, the sprites orbiting her like miniature moons.

“Aw, for crying out loud,” Gustav groused. “I told you little blue traitors not to bring Sister Goldenhair out here.”

“The sprites did the right thing,” Rapunzel said.

“We
had
to tellety Zel,” Blink argued. “You’re dying!”

“I am
not
dying!” Gustav snapped. And he immediately winced in pain. “Annoying, know-it-all firefly.”

Rapunzel ran over to him and examined his wounded leg, which was crunched at the ankle between the steel teeth of a hunter’s trap. “Oh, dear. You look awful.”

“I know, I know,” Frederic said, panting, as he staggered up and flopped against a tree to catch his breath. “My face always gets red like this when I run. It’ll go back to normal in a half hour or so. Oh! You weren’t talking to me.”

“Tassels? What the heck are
you
doing here?” Gustav cried in bewilderment. “And where are your tassels?”

Frederic joined Rapunzel, crouching down by the fallen prince. “Good day to you, too, Gustav,” he said. “Rapunzel, I assume your tears can take care of this?”

“Heal the wounds, sure,” she said. “But free his leg?”

“Pfft!” Gustav scoffed. “What good are those magical tears of yours if you can’t even cry open a bugbear trap?”

Rapunzel glared at him.

“Relax, Blondie,” Gustav said. “You know I’m just kiddin’ ya. Look, find me a nice, strong piece of metal, and I’ll pry the thing open myself.”

She turned to the sprites flitting beside her head. “There’s a crowbar in the stable by the extra horseshoes. Do you two think you could carry it back here?”

Deedle and Blink bolted away in a blue streak.

“Now, let’s see about those arrows,” Rapunzel said.

“What arrows?” Gustav said coolly. He casually reached over his shoulder and yanked the two barbed shafts from his back. “See . . . I’m . . . fine,” he wheezed between clenched teeth, his face twisted into the kind of expression you’d see on a poorly carved jack-o’-lantern.

Frederic teetered, but righted himself. “Me, too! I’m fine. No fainting here.”

Rapunzel shook her head. “I don’t know which of you is worse.”

“Who did this to you, Gustav?” Frederic asked.

“Bounty hunters,” he said. “Tall, homely guy with gnarly teeth, a pointy-eared guy with a bow, a beady-eyed one with giant trained ferrets, couple of others.”

“Did you say ferrets?” Frederic asked. “People train giant ferrets?”

“Never mind that,” Rapunzel said. “Explain the bounty hunters. What could a bounty hunter hope to get by capturing you?”

“Um, untold riches,” Gustav said, looking at them incredulously. “Because I’m one of the most wanted men in the Thirteen Kingdoms.”

“Wanted for what?” The idea was so farfetched, Frederic almost laughed.

Gustav paused. “You two really don’t know?”

Frederic and Rapunzel shook their heads.

“Here,” Gustav said, reaching down into the boot of his free leg and retrieving a rolled-up parchment. “I pulled one of these off the wall of a butcher’s shop in Smorgsjürgen. But they’re everywhere. I figured you would’ve seen ’em by now.”

He handed the paper to Frederic, who unrolled it and started reading.

WANTED

for the CRIME of MURDER:

the SO-CALLED “LEAGUE of PRINCES,”

the members of which are as follows—

PRINCE LIAM of ERINTHIA;

PRINCE GUSTAV of STURMHAGEN;

PRINCE FREDERIC of HARMONIA;

PRINCE DUNCAN of SYLVARIA;

PRINCESS LILA of ERINTHIA;

PRINCESS SNOW WHITE of SYLVARIA;

the LADY ELLA, swordswoman of HARMONIA;

and the LADY RAPUNZEL,

mystic of STURMHAGEN.

Frederic looked up. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” he gasped.

“I know,” Gustav said, sounding offended. “Those girls aren’t in the League! It’s the League of
Princes
, for Pete’s sake!”

“How could I be accused of murder?” Rapunzel snapped. “I’ve devoted my life to healing people!”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Frederic stammered. “And . . . and . . . whose murder?”

“Read on,” Gustav said solemnly. Frederic unrolled more of the Wanted poster.

The LEAGUE has been found GUILTY

of the MOST CRUEL MURDER

of HER MAJESTY BRIAR ROSE,

PRINCESS of AVONDELL.

“Oh, no,” Frederic gasped. “Briar has been . . . ?”

“Apparently so,” Gustav said. “And some blasted bard wrote a song about how
we
did it. It’s all anybody’s been talking about for the past couple days. I can’t believe neither of you has heard it.”

“This is beyond horrible,” Rapunzel said. “I saved Briar’s life just a short while ago. That snakebite almost killed her, but I brought her back. And now . . .”

“It’s too awful for words,” Frederic said.

“I know,” Gustav added. “I mean, she may not have been the friendliest person we’ve ever met . . . and she
did
force Capey to marry her against his wishes . . . and she
did
throw us all in prison for no good reason . . . and she
did
try to sacrifice all of us so she could steal a magic jewel and take over the world . . .” Gustav paused. “Sheesh, no wonder everybody thinks we did it.”

“But there’s no evidence,” Frederic said, still rattled by the news. “I mean, there can’t be, since we didn’t do it. Who told the bards we were responsible? Who would set us up like that?”

“And people really believe we’re killers?” Rapunzel asked, looking slightly green.

“Based on the things they’ve thrown at me, yes,” Gustav replied. “Axes, bricks, flaming barrels—and those were just random farmers outside my door. The real bounty hunters didn’t catch up to me until yesterday.”

A terrifying thought crossed Frederic’s mind. He read the last lines of the Wanted poster.

ANYONE WHO DELIVERS

the FUGITIVES—ALIVE—

to the ROYAL COURT in AVONDELL,

SHALL RECEIVE, as his REWARD,

UNTOLD RICHES.

“Those bounty hunters are still chasing you, aren’t they?” he said. “And now they’ll find all three of us?”

“Don’t get your pj’s in a bunch,” Gustav said, waving his hand dismissively. “I ditched those jerks way back by the Carpagian border. It’ll be days before they pick up my trail again.”

At which point they suddenly found themselves surrounded by bounty hunters. Six men stepped out of the trees, including one who held three pony-size, gray-furred creatures on leashes.

“See, giant ferrets,” Gustav said.

“These ain’t no giant ferrets. They’re giant mongeese,” drawled the beady-eyed man who held the leashes. His pets hissed and bared their glistening fangs. “Vicious, cunning, snake-eating mongeese.”

“Mongooses,” Frederic corrected.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” Rapunzel said to him.

“They’re mongeese!” the bounty hunter snapped. “They’re my animals, and I say they’re mongeese!”

Fig. 3
BOUNTY HUNTERS, assorted

“You know, I have been telling you for ages that ‘mongeese’ is incorrect,” said another hunter, a slender elf with a longbow slung over his shoulder.

“Look, it’s ‘goose’ and ‘geese,’ right?” the first replied. “So ‘mongoose,’ ‘mongeese.’”

“You gotta admit, though,” added a stout, orange-bearded bounty hunter, “‘mongeese’ does sound kinda dumb.”

“Enough!” A hooded man stepped forward; two curved swords formed an
X
on his back, and his belt was lined with daggers. He pulled back his hood, revealing a creased face and thin lips that curled over a mouthful of misshapen, discolored teeth. “The next person who argues grammar gets a dagger in his eye.”

He sauntered up to Frederic and yanked the Wanted poster from the prince’s hand. He pointed to the sketch of Frederic’s face. “That you?” he asked.

Frederic took a closer look at the drawing. “Uh, yes, that would be me. No point in denying it. The picture is an unfortunately accurate likeness. It figures, you know. The artist we hire to do our family portraits makes me look like I’m half goblin, the sculptor who crafts the League’s victory statue gives me a nose like a toucan, but the guy who draws the Wanted poster?
He
nails it.” He sighed and continued, “But now you have us at a disadvantage. You know who I am, but you have yet to introduce yourself.”

The leader smiled. “I’m Greenfang,” he said. “I like you. You’ve got moxie. Shame they’ll probably kill you when I turn you in.” He called to the others, “Take him; the girl, too.” A pair of tall, blond twins grabbed Frederic and Rapunzel. While Frederic feared for his life and that of his friends, he couldn’t help feeling at least a smidgen of pride—no one had ever told him he had moxie before.

Greenfang, in the meantime, walked over to Gustav, who was still stuck on the ground. The bounty hunter drew one of his long scimitars, jammed the blade between the teeth of the trap, and pried it open, freeing Gustav’s leg.

Gustav slapped a hand to his forehead. “Starf it all!” he cursed. “I
have
a sword! I could’ve done that!” His forgotten weapon was then, of course, quickly taken away.

As the three prisoners were led through the thick woods, Gustav hopping slowly along on one leg, the elven archer kept his bow trained on them.

“Give it a rest, Pointy Ears,” Gustav snarked. “It’s not like I can run.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be able to escape even if you were in prime physical condition,” the archer replied coolly. “And since you so callously feel the need to bring it up, there is no race in the Thirteen Kingdoms with more finely crafted ears than us elves.”

“Aren’t you a little tall to be an elf?” Gustav said. “Shouldn’t you be off making toys somewhere?”

The archer sniffed haughtily. “I am an Avondellian elf. You are thinking of those uncultured craftsmen, the Svenlandian elves. Pudgy little cretins, always baking cookies or mending shoes. And those ridiculous, curly-toed slippers they wear! Feh! Those lowly creatures don’t deserve to go by the name of Elf. They might as well start posing for lawn ornaments like the gnomes.”

“Pete!” Greenfang snapped at him. “I’m gonna shove your silky ponytail down your throat if you go off on one more rant about the Svenlandian elves. Better yet, I’ll cut you out of the reward money.”

Pete huffed but kept his mouth shut. They exited the forest, coming out onto a gravelly road, where the prisoners were loaded into a large iron cage that sat on the flat bed of a waiting wagon.

“So, Mr. Greenfang,” Frederic said as the cage door was locked. “I assume you’re doing this for the gold—am I correct?”

“I see why they call you the smart one,” Greenfang replied.

“Do they? I always thought of Liam as the smart one,” Frederic said. “Well, anyway, I wanted to remind you that I happen to be a wealthy prince. If you were to let us go, I’d be happy to pay you
more
than Avondell is offering.”

Greenfang let out a dry, rasping laugh. “No kingdom’s got more money than Avondell,” he said. “Enjoy the ride.” The orange-bearded hunter took the reins of the wagon, while the others all mounted horses (or in one case, a giant mongoose) and galloped away.

“What now?” Frederic asked, bracing himself as the wagon began to roll. “The bounty hunters are all up ahead of us. If we’re going to escape, now is the time.”

“First things first,” Rapunzel said. She quickly blinked a tear onto Gustav’s mangled ankle. Wiping her cheek, she cast a warm smile at him. “Can’t save the day if you’re not in top form, right?”

Gustav wiggled his foot a few times, a wide grin on his face. “All right,” he said. “Let’s get outta here.” He stood up, swung his newly healed leg, and landed a colossal kick against the cage’s iron-bar door. The door didn’t budge. Gustav, however, fell onto his back, groaning and clutching his newly rebroken foot. Rapunzel stared at him, incredulous.