Authors: Kate Coombs

The Runaway Princess (3 page)

BOOK: The Runaway Princess

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“Cam! I won't marry some bread-for-brains who goes around killing innocent dragons!”

“Innocent dragons?” It wasn't a common expression.

“The poor creature hasn't come down the mountain in two years,” she argued. “And then it only stole an ox. It hasn't eaten a princess since my great-aunt was a girl. And the witch!” Meg was waving her hands now, talking faster. “Love potions, wart hexes, nothing awful.”

“What about those frogs?” Cam asked.

“That's just gossip,” Meg told him. “It isn't fair!”

“The bandits are trouble,” Cam put in halfheartedly.

Meg's mouth dropped open. “They steal from the
rich and give to the poor! Just last month I was Bold Rodolfo and you were his Merry Band!”

Cam lifted his hands. “All right, all right. What does any of that have to do with you?”

“Don't you see?” Meg asked, suddenly inspired. “We must save them.”

“Save who?”

“The dragon. The witch. The bandits. We must save them from the evil princes.”

“Evil princes?” Cam laughed. “Maybe you'd like those princes, once you got to know them.” He struck a heroic pose. “I am Prince Stoutneck, come to capture your heart, fair maiden of lo, such royal blood!”

“You're mocking me.”

Nort stirred in the grass. They both looked at him, but he merely sighed and lay still.

“Come
on
,” she said, leaning dangerously far out of the window in her eagerness to persuade Cam. “We can rescue the baleful scourges together! And I'll tell my father, âHa
ha
!
I
have won the contest! You shall send this pack of foolish princes on their way!'”

Cam laughed again. “I'll get you down,” he said. “I promise. But we have do it so that they think you're still up there.” He poked Nort idly with one foot. “Give me time to come up with something.”

“Cam!” Meg wailed.

“I'll write you a note every day.”

Meg waved wanly as Cam turned to go. “Wait,” she
called. Cam looked back up at her. “Dilly will help us,” she told him.

“Are you sure?”

“I'm sure.”

“I'll ask her,” Cam promised. “Don't worry. It won't be long.”

Meg felt her throat closing, but she didn't let herself cry. Cam was being horribly sensible. All she really needed was a piece of rope.

THE SUN WAS SHINING ON THE GRASS. BIRDS were calling across the meadow. Nort sat up, groggy.

“I'm going to tell my father you were sleeping on the job,” a voice said above him.

Nort jumped to his feet. “Someone attacked me!”

“He's not going to believe that,” Meg told him. “I don't believe it, and I've been up here the whole time.”

Nort touched his aching head. “My head â¦”

“It's still there.”

“I was struck! Struck down from behind!”

“Right,” Meg jeered. “The terrible monster struck you, took your spear away, and kidnapped the princess.”

Nort looked down at his spear, then up at the princess.

“Maybe you had a bad dream,” Meg suggested in kinder tones. “Maybe you bumped your head on the wall when you fell asleep.”

Nort stared up at her. “Maybe,” he said. “You won'tâwill you really tell?”

“No. You must be very bored. If I were you, I'd have dozed off, too.” She disappeared into the tower room.

Nort jumped at shadows all afternoon, till he was finally relieved by a dour older guard as darkness fell.

Days passed, and the castle began to fill up with princes. Dilly ran about the castle with her stack of linens, making up beds for the guests. Not only princes, but endless retinues of men-at-arms and servants wandered up and down the halls. The castle was nearly bursting when some of the southern princes set up camp west of it, tethering their steeds beside their tents. The encampment grew, even drawing some of the princes out of the castle to join their rivals in the fresh air.

Meg hung out the tower window one afternoon, trying to imagine the tents Nort had told her were spread on the other side of the castle. She hated waiting. Dilly's and Cam's notes said they were working on a plan, but nothing had happened yet. So here she sat, like a dungeon prisoner, except for being higher up and probably cleaner. Her only consolation was that Dilly had sent her a skipping rope. When she grew sick of reading the book on royal weddings and watching the birds, Meg took off her bulky gown and skipped rope in her monogrammed bloomers. The
thwack
of the rope against the floor confused Nort no end.

Her mother had come to see her once, the second
day of her imprisonment, but Meg refused to come to the window, and the queen hadn't returned.

Meg sighed, remembering. Then a figure on horseback caught her attention. A young man came galloping across the meadow, reining up just short of squashing Nort. Meg frowned and stepped out of sight. She had often thought of squashing Nort herself, but a stranger had no right to do it. She peered out.

“Hold,” Nort squeaked, raising his spear protectively.

“You guard the princess?” the young man inquired.

“I do,” said Nort. “You're not to come around here till the end of the contest.”

“What, no wooing the maiden?” The stranger was dark-haired, slender, and very handsome. Meg's heart bumped, but she quickly reminded herself what he was doing here.

“No wooing,” Nort said, blushing.

“So tell me, what's she like?” the visitor asked Nort.

“I'm right up here listening!” Meg called, insulted into partly abandoning her royal dignity. She kept her face in the shadow of the window frame, though. She wouldn't be gawked at.

The stranger tipped his head back, smiling up at the window. “Beg pardon, Princess,” he said pleasantly. “I am Prince Bain, and I offer you my greetings.”

“Oh. Hello,” Meg said. She recovered a bit. “But you're really not allowed.”

“Very well,” the prince said. “Good day, my lady!”
Before she could answer, he wheeled his horse and started away. He looked positively dashing racing across the meadow.

“Hmmph!” said Meg. “He's after the kingdom,” she told herself.

“I sent him off, that one,” Nort said righteously.

“Of course you did.” Meg nearly picked up the embroidery, she was that flustered.

Word must have gotten around. Five more princes came to the tower that morning, with Nort trying in vain to keep them away. Meg soon avoided the window altogether, making her even more irritable. As no one actually caught a glimpse of her, more and more princes showed up in hopes of seeing the mysterious Margaret.

Finally Hanak got wind of it and told the prime minister, who sent a messenger around to all of the royal visitors telling them that anyone who didn't stay away from the princess's tower till the end of the contest would be immediately disqualified. Things quieted down after that.

Dear Dilly,
Meg wrote the next day.
Some princes were creeping about the tower yesterday. All of them were rude and ugly
. Meg crossed her fingers, remembering the dark-haired prince.
Are you ever going to get married?

Dear Meg
, Dilly wrote back.
Not all of the princes are ugly, but they want too many towels. I might get married someday. Right now I'm busy with towels. P.S. Be patient. Cam and I are making a plan.

Tomorrow, Meg thought grimly, I'm going to rip up these dresses and make my own rope. She lost herself in
visions of dropping the book of etiquette on Nort's head and climbing down the tower wall, clever as a spider. Visions of running away to a far-off kingdom all by herself.

Dilly and Cam sat glumly in a little gazebo in the center of the royal rose arbor. If anyone had found them, he might have thought the two were stealing kisses. Instead they were trying to decide how to steal a princess.

“We have to get her down,” Cam said. “She hates it up there, and we promised.”

“They'll know,” Dilly informed him.

Cam tucked back a trailing branch of roses with a practiced hand. “We need some kind of a trick. But I can't think of one.”

“If you were her guard instead of Nort â¦” Dilly began.

“If we had a flying carpet â¦” said Cam.

“If we had an extra princess â¦” said Dilly.

“If we had the key â¦” said Cam.

A breeze drifted the scent of roses through the gazebo. “After she pulls up her food, we've got a whole day,” Dilly mused.

“For what?”

“To get her down and back up again.”

“Let's just start with the getting-down part,” Cam said. “Three heads are better than two.”

“That's true â¦” Dilly said slowly.

“Do you have an idea?” Cam asked.

Early the next morning, Cam came across the meadow with the basket of food. Nort looked sleepy, having just come on duty. He had taken to dropping his spear in the grass and slouching against the tower with his arms folded.

“Good morning, Princess!” Cam called.

Meg was sitting cross-legged on the floor ripping up a mustard-colored gown, but she came to the window when she heard Cam's voice. “Good morning!”

“You might say good morning to me,” Nort told her testily.

“Never mind that,” Cam said to the apprentice guardsman. “I need your help.”

“What?” Nort asked, surprised. “Why would I help you?”

Meg's expression mirrored Nort's. All that waiting, and
this
was their plan? Then the princess saw Dilly.

“Because you're bored,” Cam informed him. “Also because you might disappear into the woods and never be found if you don't.”

Nort reached uneasily for his spear, but it was gone. “What are you talking about?”

Meg smiled. One way or another, it was going to work.

“We're here to help the princess,” Cam said. “You do like the princess, don't you?”

Nort looked up, catching Meg's eye. “Well â¦”

“Good,” said Cam. “We're going to get her out of the tower, and you're going to join us.”

“Who's we?” Nort made a sideways move, but Cam was faster, standing very close. “You can't do this!” Nort cried.

“We can if you help us,” a voice behind Nort said evenly as a spearpoint touched his back.

Nort spun around instinctively. The spear scraped his arm and ended up just over his heart. “Dilly?” he asked, bewildered by the sight of a small, angry lady's maid. “No! You can't make me! I'm true to my duty! To the death!” he said wildly.

“Lower the spear, please,” came Meg's voice from above. “Nort, don't you want to have an adventure?”

Dilly lowered the spear. Nort scowled.

“You do,” said Cam. “Admit it.”

“Or what? I could have you both thrown in the dungeon!” he said, sulky.

Dilly laughed. “I was changing the linens.”

“I brought the princess her food and went back to work in the garden,” Cam said, his face beaming with innocence.

“You bumped your head a bit too hard the other day. You're raving,” Meg said sweetly.

“I still think we should dump him in the woods, at least till we're finished,” Dilly remarked. “I brought extra rope.” She pulled a coil of rope from a bag over her shoulder and dropped it on the ground. Cam produced an even heavier length of rope and threw it down, too.

“You're all crazy!” Nort hissed. He paused, curious. “What do you mean, adventure? Finished with what?”

It took another fifteen minutes to convince Nort that theirs was the path of glory for anyone who really wanted to become a knight someday. Still, Meg noticed that Dilly didn't offer to return the spear. And Cam insisted Nort swear an oath of allegiance to Meg and her purposes.

“Purposes?” Nort asked anxiously.

Dilly hefted the spear. “You know what happens to knights who fail to keep their oaths, don't you?”

“Of course,” Nort declared. Meg suspected he didn't, but at least Nort seemed suitably impressed.

After a bit more discussion, Meg lowered the wire basket so Cam could tie his rope to it. Then she pulled the basket up and removed the rope, retying it carefully to the bedpost. She thought it would probably hold her weight.

For the ninth or tenth time, the others made sure no one was coming. “It's all right,” Dilly said. Meg began to clonk and scramble her way down the tower wall.

“You're going to â¦ !” called Cam.

Meg bounced against a sharp stone. “Oof! Tell me a bitâowâsooner!”

“We can't leave the rope here. Arbel will see,” Nort said.

“The night guard?” Dilly asked.

“The night guard.”

“We need it in case she has to go back up,” said Dilly.

“Just a little farther!” Cam told the princess.

Meg caught her skirt on a rusty hook and tipped sideways.
The fabric ripped as she managed to right herself. With a final slide, a rope burn, and a thump, Meg traveled the last ten feet to the bottom of the tower. “Free!” she announced, lifting her arms exultantly and twirling about.

“Now help us think,” said Dilly. “What about the rope?”

“It's nearly the same color as the stones,” Meg said.

“So they won't be able to see it from the castle.”

“Maybe not,” said Cam. “But they'll expect to see candlelight up here in the evening.”

“She'll just have to come back every night before the changing of the guard,” Dilly said. “She can pull the rope up and then bring it out the next morning when Nort's here again.”

They all looked at Meg. “I'm not going back!” she proclaimed.

“You have to sleep
somewhere
,” Dilly said.

“But I just got out!”

“The point is, it will buy you days and days of freedom,” Cam told the princess.

“It will be much easier for all concerned,” Nort added, determined to join the conversation.

They were ganging up on her now. “Butâ”

“It wouldn't have to be you, even,” Cam added, glancing over at Dilly.

Dilly folded her arms. “Oh no no no. I'm not going up that thing.”

“In an emergency,” Cam said, “you could.”

“Right,” Meg told her, “in an emergency.”

Dilly glowered. “Let's not have any of those, then.” She changed the subject, handing her bag to the princess. “You'd better change.”

BOOK: The Runaway Princess