The Whipping Boy (4 page)

Prince Brat scoffed under his breath. He hadn't shown a moment's interest in Jemmy's scheme to free him. Their eyes met and clashed. Gaw, Jemmy thought, he's fuming like a stovepipe at being unprinced. He'll have me charged with treason.

"I'll stand guard over the prince," said Cutwater. "You're the one to go, Billy."

"Me?" hooted the big man. "Me, that they sing songs about, and pinch their noses? At the first whiff of garlic, it would be off with the head of Hold-Your-Nose Billy."

"Unlikely," corrected Jemmy. "True, Papa would have you tortured a mite, to loosen your tongue. But he wouldn't have your head—not Papa. He favors slow boiling in oil."

The effect on the outlaws was instant. Hold-Your-Nose Billy's jaw dropped. Sweat broke out across his face like raindrops. "Cutwater, you're skin and bones. You could slip in and out of a keyhole. I'll guard the prince."

"Faw, Billy! I don't fancy being boiled to a crisp."

The hairy outlaw gave a loud and decisive snort. "We'll send the whipping boy."

Jemmy held back a sigh of relief. "And my crown with him."

"Your golden crown?" blurted out Cutwater. "Not by half, we won't!"

Jemmy made the pretense of blazing up with impatience. "Simpleton! I swear there are not two more ignorant, cloven-footed blockheads in the land."

Prince Brat shot Jemmy a quick, thunder-scowl look. "Stop it!" he whispered harshly. "Don't give them the rough side of your tongue. You'll get me whipped!"

Jemmy ignored him. "Donkeys!" he continued. "Before the day is out, dozens of villains will deliver up false claims. Only my crown will convince Papa that you are the genuine villain."

Hold-Your-Nose Billy began to pace, munching garlic cloves as if they were grapes. Finally, he tipped the crown off his head and flung it to Prince Brat.

"Whipping boy! Deliver it to the king! If he doesn't follow our instructions to the letter—"

"The prince'll be done for!" Cutwater snickered, drawing a knifelike finger across his throat.

"And blab all you want," added the other outlaw. "We'll pack the prince off to a different hiding place."

By its smelly tail, Prince Brat tossed aside the uneaten herring. Without showing the slightest concern for Jemmy's fate, he flicked a glance at the two outlaws. "I'll deliver nothing!" he exploded. "I won't go back to the castle!"

Jemmy was struck dumb. Did Prince Brat have sand for brains? Gaw! Didn't he realize he could snatch up his crown and go free?

"It doesn't please me to take orders from common rascals," Prince Brat said coldly.

"It would please me to shake the teeth out of your confounded face!" replied Hold-Your-Nose Billy. "You may live in the castle, but you're only a whipping boy. Do as we say!"

"I'll do what I choose. And I choose not to run your errands."

Jemmy leaped up and gave the prince an angry flash of eyes. "Jemmy-From-The-Streets gets these stubborn fits," he said. "Contrary as a mule! Let me have a word with him."

"I'll whip the mulishness out of him!" exclaimed Cutwater, lurching forward.

Prince Brat dodged out of his grasp, and a sour smile crossed his face. "I'll tear up your vile message the moment I'm gone. And keep the crown for myself!"

Hold-Your-Nose Billy caught Cutwater's upraised arm. "Hold off! There's something in what he says."

"You think he's angling for a share of the reward, Billy?"

"Likely is."

"The greedy little snipe," Cutwater bleated. "How much do you reckon we can spare?"

"This calls for private words. Let's parley. Follow me."

The moment the outlaws ducked out of the hut, Jemmy turned on his companion.

"Prince Blockhead! You should wear your crown to fend off woodpeckers."

"Imposter! How dare you insult me!"

"You're enough to give the devil himself fits! Haven't I so muddled their brains they want to turn you loose? And you reward me with a royal squawk!"

The prince had crossed to the wicker basket and snatched up an uneaten apple tart. He gobbled it down.

"I'll return to the castle when I'm ready. When I choose. And not a moment before!"

Jemmy's eyes narrowed sharply. He couldn't fathom what was stirring in the prince's mind. Could he, for once, be concerned for someone other than himself? "It's not
me
you think you're protecting, is it?"

"You?"

"Knowing they'll knock the daylights out of me soon as they find out I tricked them?"

The prince shrugged. "You're quick, boy. You'll think of something."

"I've already thought it. Once you're up and gone, I'll slip away. Out in the forest, I'll be harder to catch than a flea."

"But I'm not leaving," said the prince firmly.

"Gaw! But why? Is it your pa you're afraid of? Is that why you won't go back?"

The prince scoffed. "He won't miss me."

'"Course he will!"

"Let him wait. And mind your own affairs, whipping boy."

"It
is
my affair. Do you reckon you're out on a lark? With murderers outside?"

The murderers shuffled back into the hut. Hold-Your-Nose Billy fixed Prince Brat with a hairy smile. "Never let it be sung about that me and Cutwater ain't generous to a fault, lad. We'll share out with you a bucketful of gold and jewels!"

"No" replied the prince flatly, as if he'd been offered a bucketful of coal.

"Don't run me out of patience!" warned the huge outlaw.

The prince remained defiant. "I'm staying."

Hold-Your-Nose Billy ripped off his leather belt. "I'll lash a bit of sense into your head!"

Jemmy saw that Prince Brat wasn't going to shift his ground. "You don't need my whipping boy to get into the castle. There's a better way."

"Do say!" exclaimed Cutwater doubtfully.

"My horse," remarked Jemmy. "There's your messenger, sirs!"

Hold-Your-Nose Billy gave a snort. "Faw! That fine beast? We've been afoot since our skin-poor horse turned heels up. We need a mount in our line of work."

"Nitwits!" exclaimed Jemmy, as if his own princely patience were at an end. "With rings on your fingers and gold in your pockets, you can take to the roads like gentlemen. You'll be traveling about in fine coaches. But first you've got to lay hands on the treasure."

Cutwater made a sound through his nose like a pitchpipe. "With that horse outside?"

"One of the king's own. A horse can always find his way home, can't it? That fine beast will make for the castle stables, note and crown. No questions asked!"

With a gleeful chuckle, Hold-Your-Nose Billy dropped the ransom note and the golden crown into a dirty linen sack.

When he'd knotted the sack to the saddle, he turned to Cutwater. "Soon as I'm within a squint of the castle, I'll turn the beast loose. Guard our prisoners!"

"I'll tie 'em up," Cutwater wheezed, giving his heavy partner a foot up into the royal saddle.

From the doorway, Jemmy watched Hold-Your-Nose Billy vanish into the tangled maze of tree limbs and brambles. Then he glanced about at the bare furnishings, the hanging ropes of garlic bulbs, the bed straw, the chest of stolen goods. He'd need some trickery to escape.

The prince fixed him with a smirk. "You're clever, all right. But a common dunce all the same."

"Gaw."

"A cartload of gold and jewels! The ruffians would have been content with a mere jingle of coins."

Jemmy's eyes swung back to the bed straw.

There was his escape!

"A cartload o' moonshine," he said. "It'll never be forked over."

"I'm the prince! Papa will have to pay it!"

Jemmy
began burrowing like a barn mouse under the moldy straw. "Not a bit, he won't."

"Papa will foam at the mouth!"

Jemmy was disappearing, limb by limb, under the straw. "Think again. It'll be clear as water the note's a scrambly-witted fake."

"Papa'll keep me under lock and key after this!"

"It won't fool a soul, that note. How could you have written it? Everyone in the castle knows you can't so much as sign your own name."

"I never needed to before!"

"It's me that's in the soup. I'll catch it for your mischief in running away. And I'll catch it again when the tutor claps eyes on the handwriting. He'll say, 'Jemmy! This is Jemmy trying to line his own pockets.' Your pa'll scrag me with his bare hands! So I'll be obliged if you'd help me nip out o' here."

"I promise you my protection," announced the prince with sudden generosity.

"Jemmy protects himself," said the whipping boy. "When that plaguy Cutwater comes to tie us up, tell him I slipped out the door. Soon as he bounces off after me, I'll make a break for it."

"You'd leave me alone with cutthroats?"

Before Jemmy could answer, he heard the sharp squeak of the door. He held his breath.

"Lads, you won't mind if I truss you up like a Christmas goose."

There came a sudden pause, and Jemmy's heart began to thump.

"Where's the prince?" Cutwater snapped.

Jemmy heard Prince Brat answer without the slightest hesitation.

"Him? Over there. Under the straw."

A thoroughbred of the streets, Jemmy acted on instinct. He didn't wait to be nabbed.

In a burst of straw, he shot up and made a leap for the door. Cutwater, startled, lost the merest breath of time. But it was enough.

Jemmy flung open the door and ran.

His long arms outstretched, Cutwater lurched after him.

And Prince Brat followed.

Jemmy vanished into the wild green tangle. He jumped a great fallen log, ducked under low-hanging branches, and, like a rabbit, made sudden changes in direction.

He could hear Cutwater close behind, breathing like a bellows. "I'm on your tracks! Stop before I get aggravexed with you, Prince!"

Jemmy covered the ground at full tilt. Leaves crackled under his feet. Gaw! he thought. He might as well be leading a confounded parade, for all the noise he was making.

He reached a small clearing—and half jumped out of his skin. Sniffing near the skeleton-white roots of an upturned hollow tree stood a wild beast.