Sebastian Darke: Prince of Fools (19 page)

'It's a boobah. They live in the jungles to the far south. He's my birthday present from Uncle Septimus. I thought you might like to see him.' As she spoke, the creature jumped from her shoulder, clambered up one of the bedposts and crouched up on the roof of the four-poster, making strange chattering sounds. 'I'm going to call him Tiddles,' she said.

'Why, he's almost like a little man!' observed Sebastian. He smiled mischievously. 'Perhaps you should have called him Cornelius.'

'I wouldn't let
him
hear you say that,' she said. Then she looked sad. 'You were right, of course. He's a lovely present but he wasn't worth the lives of my Royal Guard. Next time I will think before I act, I promise.' She walked over and then froze, looking at the mural on the wall behind him. 'Oh my goodness,' she said. 'I'd forgotten about that hideous painting!'

He smiled. 'You get used to it after a while. It's not as bad as the one behind you.' He pointed to the torture scenes and she turned to look, then winced.

'Honestly,' she said. 'Uncle's taste in art leaves something to be desired. One of the first things I'll do when I'm Queen is redecorate the guest rooms. I mean, something more understated. A nice soft magnolia, perhaps.' She turned back to look at him. 'So . . . are you all set for tonight's performance?'

He shrugged. T suppose so. I'll need to clean myself up a bit – and I'd better get a new outfit from the caravan before I go on. This one still has luper blood on it.'

She laughed. 'That was quite an adventure,' she said. She moved across to his bed and sat down on the end of it. 'Well, at least this seems comfortable enough,' she observed, bouncing up and down. She patted the coverlet with one hand. 'Come and sit beside me,' she suggested.

He did as he was told, lowering himself rather un?comfortably onto the bed. He wasn't at all sure that he should be sitting on a bed with a young woman who would soon be Queen.

'You seem nervous,' she observed.

'No!' he replied, rather too quickly. 'Not – not at all. I'm perfectly relaxed.'

She seemed unconvinced by this. 'Perhaps you're worried about tonight,' she said.

'Well . . . yes, you know how it is. New venue, new audience. You never really know what to expect.'

'I suppose you've appeared in lots of grand places.'

'Oh . . . a few,' he agreed; and hoped that she wouldn't ask him to name any of them.

'Are all jesters like you?' she asked.

'I don't know. I've never met any. Apart from my father, of course. And he was human.' They sat there in an uneasy silence for a moment, staring at a painting on the end wall, which appeared to depict a group of jubilant soldiers setting fire to a temple, while in the background a line of priests were being lined up for execution. Princess Kerin seemed to be waiting for something, and once again Sebastian experienced an irrational desire to kiss her; but he told himself that it was hardly his place to be kissing princesses. He turned to look at her.

'Princess, may I ask you a question?'

'Of course.'

'You promise you won't get angry?'

'I can't say until I've heard the question, can I?'

'No . . .' Sebastian looked down at his feet for a while, noticing how scuffed and worn his boots were. Then he took a deep breath. 'Your uncle . . . King Septimus. Do you . . . Well, do you trust him?'

'Of course I do!' She stared at him. 'Why do you ask?'

'Well, only because . . . some people would say that he might enjoy being King of Keladon and . . . he might not want to hand power over to somebody else. Even his own niece.'

She grimaced. 'Yes, but Uncle Septimus has always known that he would rule only for a time, just until I was old enough. There was never any question. And after my parents died he was so kind to me, so thoughtful . . .'

'Umm . . . yes. That was the other thing. I hope you don't mind me asking, but how did your parents die?'

The princess stared at him for a moment as though she was shocked by his question. Perhaps nobody had ever dared to touch on the subject before. Sebastian realized he was once again in danger of upsetting her, but it was too late to with?draw the question. Princess Kerin seemed to think about it for a long time before she answered.

'They were murdered,' she said in a very small voice. 'They were given poisoned wine to drink.'

'And it never occurred to you that perhaps your uncle—?'

'It didn't even happen here,' she interrupted him. 'But in Bodengen. They were guests of King Valshak, who was the ruler at that time; they were there to approve an alliance between our two countries. At the feast somebody gave them poisoned wine and they were dead in moments. Uncle Septimus wasn't even with them – he was back here at the palace and learned of their death at the same time as I did.'

T see.' Sebastian felt quite wretched now for having voiced his suspicions.

'My parents came home in two coffins. I was thirteen years old at the time. We mourned them and buried them, and Uncle Septimus was declared King until I was of age. His first act as monarch was to declare war against Bodengen; a war that lasted until recently, when Queen Helena came to the throne. Now Uncle Septimus is keen to revive the alliance that was planned all those years ago. Which is why my first act as monarch will be to marry Queen Helena's son, Rolf.'

Sebastian stared at her. 'What?' he said. 'Rolf? Rolf with the missing teeth and the sloping forehead?'

She nodded, not looking him in the eyes. 'Yes,' she said.
'That
Rolf.'

'But . . . you aren't going to go through with that, are you? I mean, you said yourself that you didn't
like
him.'

'What has that got to do with anything?' she asked him crossly. 'Do you think I have any say in the matter? Marrying him will be my duty, performed for the good of my country.'

'But that's terrible!' Sebastian got up from the bed and paced around the room in agitation, hardly believing what she had just told him. 'My mother always says that there's only one reason to marry somebody and that's because you are in love with them.'

Princess Kerin sighed. 'That's all well and good for ordinary people,' she said. 'But for ones like myself, nothing is ever as straightforward. Besides, as I told you the other day, I don't
believe
in love. The only people I ever cared for were taken from me when I was a child. There's nobody else in the picture.'

Sebastian frowned. 'Maybe you haven't looked properly,' he said.

She sat there for a long time in silence, regarding him with those deep green eyes. Then she got up from the bed, came over to him and kissed him gently on the cheek. 'For luck,' she said.

There was a silence and they stood there gazing at each other, as something unspoken passed between them. Sebastian knew in that moment that she did feel something for him, but that it would almost certainly never come to anything.

'I'd better go now,' she said. 'Here, Tiddles, good boy!' The boobah climbed obediently back down the bedpost and jumped onto her shoulder. She started for the door, then hesitated for a moment and looked back at him.

'You know,' she added, 'I prefer it when you are telling your jokes and stories. It's so much less complicated.' She smiled sadly. 'I'll see you tonight.' She went out of the room, closing the door behind her. Sebastian stayed where he was for a moment, gazing at the door, hoping . . . perhaps expecting that she would come back again.

But time passed and she didn't return. So he walked over to the desk, remembering the message for his mother. He reached for the pull-cord and rang the bell to summon the servant.

Magda was still peering out of her chamber window when the king came storming back in and kicked her up the back?side a second time. She turned with a yelp, terrified to see that the anger he had displayed previously had been just the beginning. Now he was absolutely livid.

'My face hurts!' he growled, staring down at her.

'I beg your pardon, your majesty? I'm afraid I don't—'

The king lifted two fingers to point at the corners of his own mouth. 'It's where I've been grinning like an imbecile,' he said. 'Being nice to that brat of a princess. Giving her a very expensive gift, which I had intended to keep for myself; and worse, welcoming those three . . . filthy tramps down

there. One of them was a jester. You know my history with jesters, Magda. But no, I had to greet him with open arms!' He began to pace up and down, his face set in an expression of total revulsion.

'Your majesty, I think I—'

'And if that wasn't bad enough, I had to watch my champion being knocked down by some short-arsed warrior who doesn't look big enough to be let out of sight of his mother!'

'If you would just—'

'And finally . . . finally . . .' The king was now so incensed that Magda half expected to see steam coming out his ears. 'Finally, I have to stand there like a fool, while demands are made upon me by a . . . a' – he could hardly bring himself to say the word – 'a
buffalope!
A stinking, filthy fleabag of a beast which thinks it can treat me as some kind of servant. I mean, what is the world coming to? Have I gone mad?'

He was leaning forward over Magda now, his face purple, his teeth bared, his eyes bulging. He had never looked angrier or more terrifying. She was almost too afraid to say anything, but was more fearful of the consequences of not convincing him that she could rescue the situation.

'Your majesty, if you would just allow me to speak . . .' she ventured.

He folded his arms across his chest and stood there waiting. 'Well?' he asked her.

'I . . . I realize how much it must have cost you to be agree?able to those people. But you managed it very well. And now everyone in your court has
seen
you welcome them.' She lifted a skinny finger and waved it in the air. 'So the foundation of our little deception is in place.' She began to edge towards the door. 'And it simply remains for me to find the weak spot; the opening we shall exploit to make the people think that the strangers are evil.'

King Septimus scowled. 'And how exactly will we achieve that?' he asked her.

'Er . . . well . . . at this precise moment, your majesty I'm not too sure of that final element.'

'You what?'

The anger was bubbling back to the surface and Magda very wisely decided to make herself scarce. 'But I
will
be sure just as soon as I have spoken to the jester!' She was going out of the door now, moving with surprising speed for one so ancient. The king glanced around quickly and noticed a heavy bronze drinking goblet on a nearby table. In one swift movement, he scooped it up and flung it after her, through the open doorway. He was rewarded with a dull clunk and a gasp of pain. The goblet clattered unseen onto the stone floor, but after a slight pause he heard the old woman hobbling away down the staircase.