THE PRACTICAL PRINCESS and Other Liberating Fairy Tales (8 page)

“What?” huffed Sir Brian. “Get your things?”

“Of course. I’m coming with you. You rescued me, didn’t you?”

“Besides, we haven’t an extra horse,” said Sir Brian.

“She can ride with me,” Sir Philbert said.

The maiden smiled at him. She ran into the tower and soon returned with four large bundles. They hung the bundles on Sir Philbert’s horse, and Sir Philbert said it was just as well his blankets had all blown away. Then the maiden-whose name was Victoria-got up behind, and away they rode once more.

Victoria said, “I was watching from the window.

Did you really expect those blankets to fly up over the giant’s face?”

Sir Philbert sighed. “I hoped so,” he said.

“If they hadn’t, what would you have done?”

“I would have kept on riding as fast as I could. I didn’t see how else I could beat a giant that tall.”

“But shouldn’t a knight be brave?”

“Oh, yes,” said Sir Philbert. “But on the other hand, I’m the only one of me I have, and I have to take care of myself.”

Victoria nodded. “That’s reasonable,” she said.

They rode on. At last they came to a high place.

The road ran over a peak that sparkled with glassy ice. On each side, rock fell away in steep cliffs, down, down, to glittering rock below. Sir Brian’s horse suddenly reared and skittered round. Sir Armet’s horse reared too. After a bit Sir Philbert and Victoria caught up with them and saw what they saw.

Their horse couldn’t rear because it was too heavily loaded.

There was a cockatrice in the way. It had the body of a serpent and the head and legs of a rooster. Its scales were green and shiny in the icy light. Its long serpent tongue flicked in and out of its cock beak, and its round, evil eyes rolled forward to look at them. It strutted as tall as a man.

“Hmm,” said Sir Philbert. “It might be better to go back and find another way. After all, we have a lady with us.”

“Pah! You are a coward, sir,” said Sir Armet.

“Stand back, all of you.”

He lowered his lance and galloped forward.

“Oh, dear,” Sir Philbert whispered to Victoria.

Sir Armet’s lance shattered on the green scales. The cockatrice hissed. It darted its rooster’s beak forward on its snaky neck. Sir Armet’s horse gave a scream and plunged over the edge of the cliff with Sir Armet.

“Stand back, all of you,” said Sir Brian nervously.

He began to lower his lance. But Sir Philbert caught his elbow.

“Wait a minute,” said Sir Philbert. “I just thought of something I’d like to try.”

He got off his horse. “Victoria, my dear,” he said,

“have you a mirror?”

“Oh, yes,” she answered. She opened one of her bundles and took out a large, golden looking glass with her initial “V” in emeralds on the back.

Sir Philbert took it and walked forward, his armor squeaking and clinking in the still, cold air. The cockatrice shot out its fearsome head once again. Sir Philbert held out the mirror.

The cockatrice stared into it. Then it gave a dithering hiss of horror, spread its wings, and flew away over the peaks.

Sir Philbert returned the looking glass to Victoria.

He was shaking like a leaf.

“Why, how brave of you!” cried Victoria, giving him a hug.

“No, not very brave,” said Sir Philbert. “The only thing a cockatrice is afraid of is another cockatrice. I was pretty sure it would fly off when it saw its face in the mirror. I read that in a book,” he added humbly.

“Then it was very clever of you,” Victoria said firmly.

“Hmph!” grunted Sir Brian. “Clever? I’m not so sure a knight
ought
to be clever.”

Sir Philbert hung his head. “I know. But you see.

I’m the only one of me I have …”

“Suppose we have a bite of lunch and then push on,” Sir Brian said briskly.

When they had finished eating, they followed the road over the top of the mountain and down the other side. After a time, Sir Philbert remarked, “These trees are growing in rows, almost like a park.”

“Rubbish!” said Sir Brian. “It’s a wild wood.”

“There’s no underbrush either,” Sir Philbert continued.

“Ridiculous!” said Sir Brian. “Next you’ll be telling me you see a castle.”

“I see a castle,” Sir Philbert said.

Sure enough, the trees ended at a bridge, and on the other side of it there was a gloomy castle with many turrets.

“Hah!” Sir Brian exclaimed. “The castle of the enchanter!”

“Are you sure?” asked Sir Philbert.

“Of course I’m sure. Don’t you think I know what an enchanter’s castle looks like?” Sir Brian retorted.

They rode across the bridge and under the gateway like a giant’s yawn, into a paved courtyard. All was silent.

Sir Brian rubbed his hands together. “Now then,” he said, “the enchanter is probably upstairs in his den.

I’ll go after him. If anything happens to me-which isn’t very likely because I know how to handle these fellows-just remember one rule. You must hold on to the enchanter until he surrenders. He will turn himself into all sorts of beasts: a lion, a wolf, a dragon, anything. As long as you hold him you’re safe. If you let go of him, he’ll magic you, and-
poof!
”

Sir Philbert nodded. “I’ve read all about that in …”

he began, but Sir Brian was gone.

Sir Philbert rubbed his chin. “You know,” he said to Victoria, “I’m not at all sure this is the right castle.

“Never mind,” said Victoria.

“But I
do
mind. I think I’d better follow Brian.

Suppose something happens to him?”

“Suppose something happens to you?” said Victoria.

“Don’t let’s talk about it,” Sir Philbert gulped.

He walked into the castle. There was a large cob-webby hall with a winding, dusty stair at one end of it. He could see Sir Brian’s footprints in the dust. He began to follow them.

Now Sir Brian had climbed the stairs, and he had found, at the top, a heavy door opening into a tower room. Inside, there was a little old man with a bristle of untidy hair. Sir Brian sprang in and seized him by the neck.

“Ha, foul wizard,” shouted Sir Brian, “I have thee!”

The old man at once turned into a lion. Sir Brian held fast. The lion became a fanged wolf. Sir Brian with a laugh still held him. The wolf became a dragon. Sir Brian held on. The dragon, in the blink of an eye, turned into a lady.

“Oh, you’re hurting me,” said the lady. “Not very knightly of you.”

“I beg your pardon,” said Sir Brian. He let go at once. The enchanter promptly waved his hand and

turned Sir Brian into a pelican, which gave a dismal squawk and flew out the window.

The enchanter changed back into himself and began to dust off his cloak. At that instant, Sir Philbert, who had seen the whole thing from the doorway, rushed in and grabbed the enchanter by the neck.

“What? Another one?” shrieked the enchanter.

He was so confused that he turned himself into a dreadful combination of lion, wolf, dragon, and woman all at once. Sir Philbert gritted his teeth and hung on. The enchanter then turned into a unicorn, a falcon, a salmon, a chest of drawers, a saber-toothed tiger, and a burning wastepaper basket. Sir Philbert held on for dear life. At last, the enchanter turned into a wasp. This time, Sir Philbert almost did let go. But he thought of his health and of Victoria and of poor blustering Sir Brian, who was now a pelican, and he gripped the wasp tightly. It didn’t sting him after all.

Instead, it turned back into the enchanter, looking extremely sulky.

“Very well,” he panted. “You’ve won. What is your wish?”

“I want to take the spell off Sir Brian,” said Sir Philbert.

“What, right now?”

“At once.”

The enchanter chuckled disagreeably. “Very well,”

he said. He waved his hand. Sir Brian, who was at that moment flying low over a swamp, changed back into himself and fell plop! into the mud.

“Anything else?” said the enchanter.

“Yes,” said Sir Philbert, remembering the reason for the quest. “I want you to let the emperor’s daughter go.”

“Let her go? How can I let her go when I haven’t got her?”

“Oh, my,” groaned Sir Philbert. “I knew it was the wrong castle. Well, who did kidnap her?”

“She was kidnapped by Brasilgore,” said the enchanter. “And she has already been rescued.”

“She has? Where is she?”

“Downstairs in my courtyard,” snarled the enchanter. “Now, if there’s nothing else I can do for you, will you please go away?”

But Sir Philbert had already gone, down the stairs two at a time.

“And so Brasilgore the enchanter was a giant,” he said as he and Victoria went trotting off together, she riding more comfortably on Sir Brian’s horse. “But why didn’t you tell us?”

“You never asked me,” Victoria replied.

“That’s true. Well, I suppose I’d better take you home to your father as quickly as possible.”

They traveled until they came to the emperor’s empire. They entered the great city, and all the people ran out to cheer and stare and point. They came to the castle, and there was the emperor on a throne of ivory and emeralds. There also was Sir Brian, looking very muddy and rusty and bothered.

“Victoria, my darling, I’m so glad to see you again,” said the emperor, embracing her. “Sir Brian was telling me how he had failed to find you.”

Victoria hugged her father. “I must just tell you everything that has happened,” she cried. And so she did.

When she was finished, the emperor said, “I have sworn to give half my kingdom and my daughter’s hand to the man brave enough to rescue her.”

Sir Philbert blushed. “My lord,” he said, “I really don’t want half your kingdom. I have a nice little castle of my own, and it’s all I can do to manage it-but I
would
like to have Victoria.”

Victoria smiled and took his hand.

Then Sir Brian interrupted. “My lord emperor,” he cried, “that man didn’t rescue your daughter by bravery. He killed the giant by accident and the cockatrice by a trick.”

“Dear me,” said the emperor. He stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Now let me get this straight. Where is Sir Hugo of Brandish?”

“He died a hero’s death, sire,” said Sir Brian.

“I see. And Sir Armet of Anguish?”

“Perished bravely in combat.”

“Ah. And as for you, you’d still be a pelican if it hadn’t been for Sir Philbert, eh?”

Sir Brian frowned. “But he is a coward!” he said.

“Ah, yes, there’s that.” The emperor turned to one of his servants and whispered in his ear. The servant turned pale and ran off. He came back in a few moments with a large box. From the box came a loud and angry humming.

“Now, gallant sirs,” said the emperor, “here is a box containing a wasps’ nest. I’d like one of you to reach inside and catch a wasp for me. There is no reward. I just want a wasp.”

Sir Brian reached out a hand, listened to the furious humming, winced, and drew it back. Nobody else moved.

“You see,” said the emperor, “when Sir Philbert held on to the enchanter he was being quite as brave