Princess Ben (16 page)

With a great jerk I awoke, only to find myself face-down
on the fleece, my mouth pressed to filthy wool. I struggled to a seated position, the image of Florian seared with appalling clarity onto my mind's eye. Did I not suffer him enough in waking hours? Had not my parents suffered? Indeed, I considered the dream no small violation of their trust and the vow I had made to avenge their deaths. For many minutes I scrubbed my mouth fiercely, as though scrubbing alone could erase the memory of that kiss.

The nightmare unnerved me to my core; even the sight of Prince Florian the next morning at breakfast left me vertiginous. But the prince and his entourage paid me no attention whatsoever. As I delivered them yet another platter of hot bacon (a piece of which I managed to hide in my filthy bandages, much to my joy), the captain smacked Florian's shoulder, chuckling. "Seven weeks ago that ball was! To think you've left us shivering up here while you drank and danced about the kingdom—

"And feasted as well, added Florian with a grin, helping himself to a fistful of bacon. "It's a tough lot, being prince."

Trudging back to the kitchen, I frowned over the captain's words. Seven weeks! Bones could heal in seven weeks' time; that I had learned from my mother. Ducking my head that I might consume my secret treat, I determined to unwrap my dressing as soon as I had a moment to spare.

That time did not come until long past dinner, when at last I was permitted to collapse on my fleece. Doubly exhausted from the day's long efforts and my poor sleep the night before, I nonetheless set to work cutting away the dressing with a knife I had pocketed. The outer wrappings were so caked with grease and dirt that I feared I might skewer myself, but at last I sliced the crucial knots and peeled the rest away.

Twice before I had exposed the wound to ensure it was closing free of corruption. Still, I gagged at the sight. The puncture had healed into an angry red scar made far worse by lack of suturing, though I saw no indication that the bones had not healed. My forearm had shriveled from lack of use, and the skin bore a greasy white film scarcely better than the rags themselves.

With a bit of cloth I wiped at my arm, wishing I had movement enough to manufacture water. Simply flexing my fingers triggered a sharp and lingering ache. I cleaned as best I could, rewrapping my wrist with the scraps of bandage to provide some minimal support. Being careful not to jar it, I settled myself under my cloak.

Yet no sooner had I drifted to sleep, it seemed, than the cook was kicking me awake.

"It's not morning yet! I protested.

"The prince demands me, he spat out, "and you're to assist.

His skepticism about this arrangement matched my own, and he unlocked my ankle chain with unusual brusqueness. Now I could make out two soldiers stomping their feet at the door. Whatever required the cook's services—or rather the surgeon's, for I suspected the emergency was not of a culinary nature—it must be serious indeed.

The soldiers led us so briskly across the compound that I was forced to trot, and hustled us into the captains' quarters. Inside, a roaring fire (for once not lit by me!) illuminated the prince and two of his aides, the three pacing half-dressed, wringing their hands. Their relief at the cook's entrance was profound, and already I feared the man's skill would not match their expectations.

At once a raking cough filled the hut. So deeply did his bed lay in shadow that I had not seen the captain, his face flushed with fever and exertion. As his coughing continued uncontrollably, the prince turned toward the cook. "Help him! he implored.

"We'll strip him down, the cook announced. "Open the door now, damn you.

The chill of winter for a man so ill? I could think of countless more appropriate actions. "A mustard plaster would serve better, I blurted out.

The cook spun on me, enraged by my impudence and also, I now recognize, fearful of his own abilities and thus doubly quick to challenge a dull-witted shepherd boy.

As he turned to cuff me, however, the prince stopped him. "Why speak you so?

I dropped my head, already regretting my words. "My mother always said it. She is—she was—a healer. It pained me to speak so honestly, but I had not time to concoct a fib.

"Why did you not mention this before?

I shuffled. It was clear, to me at least, that no one had asked, and no one, saving desperation, would have believed it.

But desperate they now were. "Can you assemble such a plaster? Florian continued.

I nodded.

He turned to the soldiers: "See that he does so! And make haste.

Here I was passing from skillet to stone and hotter stone still. What did I know of mustard plasters? Besides, these were my sworn enemies.

Soon as this last thought crossed my mind, however, I scolded myself. I had spoken out of concern for a fellow human, and shame should I feel for such vindictive thoughts with my mother's name fresh on my lips. Whatever the future held, I vowed, I would marshal my few talents to offer the captain the same care I would give any man.

***

In the days that followed, I scarcely left Johannes's side—for that was the captain's name, and the prince ordered me to use it in the hopes it would provide some solace. The man's condition deteriorated before my eyes, and I struggled to recall my mother's every word, for she had never instructed me as a mistress does her apprentice. In the mess hall, I improvised as best I could, saturating several clean rags with powdered mustard seed and cooking grease. Returning to the sickroom, I placed the potion on Johannes's bare chest that the warmth might soothe his pain and loosen the congestion. The man strained so to breathe that I propped him up with all the bolsters I could find, and I kept the room so hot, a kettle perpetually steaming over the fire, that it was more jungle than mountain hut. To my relief, the cook had a store of dried poppies, and soon as I could I brewed my
mother's syrup of boiled poppy heads and honey, for she declared it the single best therapy for cough.

The soldiers sent to guard me quickly changed to lackeys, loading the fire, heating rocks for Johannes's feet, and running for broth and towels at my sharp command. Indeed, had they paused but a moment, they would have wondered at how quickly the servile shepherd boy blossomed into dictator. Further, they should have wondered how his knowledge extended so deep, for healing in both our countries has always been woman's work. But so grateful were all the men that they paid these incriminating facts no heed.

However powerful my disdain for Prince Florian, I must confess that he served his friend most loyally. Given his rank, I could not evict him from the room, much as I longed to do so. My warnings that close proximity might cause his death he brushed aside. Routinely he took a bowl from my hands to feed Johannes himself, and sought my approval prior to every adjustment of the man's bedding.

My discomfort with this situation deepened one evening as the two of us aided Johannes through yet another fit of coughing. When at last the patient quieted, I settled the pillows that he might more comfortably sleep upright, and
bathed his forehead with herbal concoctions and aqua vitae as the prince retrieved a fresh compress for his chest. Finishing these tasks at last, I commenced straightening the room so as to avoid my fellow nurse.

"You are blessed, you realize, to have known your mother.

Florian's statement caught me by complete surprise, all the more so as we had worked in silence.

"My mother passed so long ago that I barely remember her, he continued. "What I would give to have known her as you so clearly knew yours.

For a moment I could not speak, even if I had had any notion what to say.

"She called me Florrie. My father used to complain of its girlishness, but she would cover me in kisses ... ah, I should stop before I set myself weeping.

"I did not know, I whispered.

"That my nickname was Florrie? He smiled at me.

"That your mother also passed away.

"Yes. We have a bond, the two of us, in our mourning ... Well, require you my services at the moment? If not, I am afraid I shall have to attend my other responsibilities.

Gently he shut the door behind him, leaving me in such a whirl of emotion that I almost poured a kettle of boiling water on my feet.

Dozing that night on a cot, I dreamt again of the prince and awoke from his kiss with a great jerk as Johannes commenced another spasm of coughing. I rushed to his aid, grateful for the distraction.

***

My mother, returning once from a particularly difficult case, was asked by my father what the outcome would be. With a weary shrug she replied, "Oh, he'll die or get better. It's always one or the other. To my great relief Johannes did not die and indeed began to show small signs of recovery. Florian, too, noted the improvements, and queried me daily on when the captain might be healthy enough to move. He himself would have departed the camp long before were it not for the "mewling kitten" (as he dubbed Johannes in his earshot) who kept him from his princely duties.

Though I knew far too well what those princely duties entailed, I, too, longed to quit this wretched encampment. Under the pretext of determining how best to transport my patient, I learned that our route to the Drachensbett fortress
included a long passage along River Road: the selfsame River Road that climbed the cliff beneath Chateau de Montagne and terminated at the gates of Market Town! Once on this highway, our party mingling with merchant caravans, I could slip away and somehow make my return to Montagne.

However strong my desire, I would not imperil the man whose life I had so recently saved, and I insisted we remain in place until Johannes had strength enough to survive the journey. Daily the camp melted away before my eyes. Soldiers brandishing the tools of carpenter and roustabout reassembled the huts into sledges loaded with provisions, dragged by shaggy horses to the valley below. Platoons of men marched away with songs on their lips, though one of my two lackeys remained in my service. He was essential, I claimed, for carrying trays, as my right hand was still crippled and weak. This was not my only motivation, however, for the man had the build of a bear, and his presence beside me in the kitchen provided absolute protection from the cook's abuse. Indeed, the cook, like all bullies when confronted with a show of force, groveled and fawned before me, producing hidden treats that weeks earlier I would have killed to acquire but now had not time to eat. Instead I rushed them to Johannes's bed in the hopes that some morsel would inspire his appetite.

One evening, bringing my patient some small delicacy, I discovered the captain sharing a flagon of wine with Florian. The two looked as guilty as truants upon my appearance, and Florian even made to hide the container beneath a blanket.

"Forgive us, O Noble Healer. But is it not true that the fruit of the vine cures the ill?"

Such a relief it was to see the captain sitting up, and thirsty, that I could not restrain a smile. "Well, they do say that a diet of drink leads to debauchery, I pointed out.

"Ah, debauchery," murmured the captain.

Florian chuckled. "Clearly you are improving, my friend! We must return you to the wenches—they will cure you in their own way.

"That they would. I dream of Rosalind and her soft
pillows.
She is a delectable lass and would give herself to you in a heartbeat. She asks after you every time we frolic together.

Never in all my sheltered life had I heard men speak so! My face burned in mortification, and I longed to race from the building, at least to plug my ears against this bawdy candor ... but, I reminded myself, no
boy
would behave so prudishly. All I could do was bite my lip and pray the conversation ended soon.

"I do not doubt Rosalind does, the prince said with a
laugh. "But it is the crown that catches her eye, not the face beneath it. No, I would never take advantage so. Far better she keep her heart for her own true love, whoever he may be.

"You are far too chivalrous, my prince, with all your prattling on true love.

"Prattle! I take offense. What think you, Ben, on the subject?"

The two men, turning in my direction, burst into laughter at my embarrassment.

Florian grinned. "Clearly he has not savored the pleasures of his own young shepherdess ... But surely you agree, Ben, that the bond between two hearts is the greatest satisfaction a man and woman can ever know.

My cheeks flushed to an even darker red as I stuttered out a useless answer.

"Stop or you shall slay him, and then no one shall be left to care for me," said Johannes. As if to demonstrate, he began to cough, which to my great relief terminated their salacious nattering. I struggled some minutes to make him comfortable, and then the combination of wine and exertion quickly put him to sleep.

"He is like a brother to me, Florian whispered, gazing at
his friend with true affection. "Indeed, more than once my father informed me that had he known our two characters, he would have switched us at birth.

Much as I struggled, I could think of no reply. Their earlier conversation, combined with the revelation of the prince's romantic nature—shocking to me, and completely unpredicted—had left me incapable of coherent thought.

"Yet again, Johannes serves as example. We should both of us rest. Sleep well, Ben.

I lay abed many hours that night, working at my stiff fingers and wrist until the pain near drove me mad, but the agony served to keep me awake. At last, however, sleep enveloped me. As I feared, Prince Florian appeared in my dreams yet again. Settling himself on the edge of my Peach Room bed, he took my hand and brought it to his lips with the warmest of smiles. "Jest with me, sweet Princess. Awake, that we might frolic together. He leaned forward—

I lunged awake with a shriek. Panting, I listened for pounding footsteps. Surely my scream had awakened the camp! But the dark silence was broken only by the captain's snore. I must have dreamt the scream as well.

Pulling my cloak about me, I crawled to the fire and relit it with a quick gesture. I would not sleep again this night.
Instead, huddled by the coals, I plotted the details of my escape. Tomorrow, whatever Johannes's condition, we must depart.