Short story time!
So, I wrote a story tonight, for my own amusement. And I shall post it here for your amusement. Aren't you lucky. :) Any advice, comments, critiques, and other insights are more than welcome. Also, I'm still debating the ending. I ended it at a certain point, then I added some other stuff. I'll put **stars** after the original ending. Let me know whether you like the extra stuff or not. Remember, this hasn't really been edited at all, so if you see any spelling or grammar errors, blame them entirely on the creative flow. Heh.
Notes on Child-Rearing
ONE
“Higgins, who is this man?” I asked, gesturing at the bound and trembling figure kneeling at my feet.
“Mistress, Higgins find man slaying wolves. Higgins bring man to Mistress. Higgins hopes this pleases Mistress.” The cock-eyed manservant tugged at his dreadlocks and bobbed an obsequious bow to me.
“Slaying the wolves?” I repeated. I turned to the tied-up man. “You pig, you less-than-vermin, slaying my darling wolves. How can you bear to cling to your worthless life?”
The man looked up, tossing his blonde hair out of his brilliant blue eyes. “How else was I supposed to approach the fortress? There are only three approaches, and I wasn’t about to attempt the storm-battered sea cliffs or the dragon plains. My best chances were with the mangy beasts on the mountain.”
“All right,” I said, seeing the logic in his assessment of my defenses. “My next question is why? Why would any reasonably healthy person with all his limbs and a great deal of life left in him want to approach my fortress?”
The man’s part-annoyed, part-cocky expression faded to confusion. “You are the sorceress holding Princess Butterfly Crystal-pearl hostage, are you not?”
“Oh!” I laughed. “Yes, that would be me. You came for that silly thing? Goodness, but I thought no one would ever come for her. Higgins, untie …I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
Higgins pulled up on the man’s arms, bound behind his back, to set him on his feet. “Ow-ach! Burn you, man, that hurt!”
“Name?” If I showed any patience with the man, I’d never be rid of him.
“Oh, right, Sir Roderick Bethelburn, at your service.” He swept a low bow now that his arms were free.
“Indeed, Sir…Whatever. I release you and commit the Princess Butterfly Crystal-pearl into your dubious care, extracting as payment for the deaths of my wolves, your sworn oath that you shall deliver unto me your firstborn child, to do with as I will. Have I your word?”
“My firstborn? Why, that’s preposterous! I would never…not in a hundred years…no decent person…!” he spluttered.
“Well, I suppose I can find space for you in the dungeons, if you’d prefer. Higgins…”
“Dungeons? I say, now, there’s no need…I suppose you’ve rats there?”
I sighed heavily. “I’m afraid so. Mold, too, and spiders.”
“Damn,” said Sir What’s-his-name tapping his well-endowed chin with a thick, scarred finger. “Just the firstborn? You won’t demand any more after that?”
“Gracious, no! I don’t think I can handle more than one child. You’ve heard the expression, ‘Never have more children than there are parents to care for them?’” The knight looked perplexed. “Whatever…have I your word and all that?”
“Oh, yes, of course.”
“Spit and shake on it, there’s a chap.”
TWO
You may be wondering why an immortal sorceress of my power and fame could possibly want a child, or, if that reason wasn’t obscure enough, why I didn’t have one of my own, or grow one. I certainly could do either of those things, if I desired. However, I suspected that pregnancy would not agree with my carefully maintained figure and would disrupt my life to the extent that I would not be able to continue with some of my rather more difficult projects. Even if I had wanted to impregnate myself, finding a man with whom I could actually bear all the ridiculousness required for procreation was absolutely impossible. Believe me, I had tried. Growing a child had its merits - after all, a child of my own creating would be quite an extraordinary creation - but the idea of beginning with a flawed specimen seemed far more attractive to me, and so I awaited Sir Thingy…well, yes, I remember his name, but it’s such a mouthful. Fine, I awaited Sir Roderick Bethelbert’s child.
A year and a half passed after my encounter with the knight. In that time, I gleaned from my raven spies that he married Princess Butterfly Crystal-pearl and became the heir to her father’s quaint little kingdom. Very soon, the princess found herself with child, and I began building a nursery for my new son. One of the niceties of having limitless power is being able to see how things will be. Thus it was that I saw that Sir Roderick Bethelbert would have forgotten the agreement he made with me by the time his child was born. Extra lucky for me because I could leave the little monster with his parents until after he was toilet-trained.
But back to why I wanted a child. It seems insane, I know. I had no need for an heir to my power and domain. I was not particularly lonely in my mountain fortress overlooking the sea. I did not feel the need to acquire a child to see if doing so would make me happy (I always knew Haggard had it right about the unicorns, if he would have just put a bit more thought into the matter). No, the reason I wanted a child was far more selfish than any of those. I wanted to know the feeling of shaping a life and a destiny from before it was ever conceived. The thought of molding and directing the child’s mind enticed me, and it would decide the question for me of whether humans were inherently good or evil beings. I suppose “decide” is too strong a word, for I intended to guide the boy in my own footsteps, which most humans considered evil. If he turned out good, then the theory would be proved. If he became as evil as me, I felt this would not be truly conclusive proof, but great fun nonetheless. The period required for toilet-training might have effects on the results of my study, I admitted to myself, but I felt it was a very worthwhile sacrifice to the accuracy of the outcome to not deal with soiled diapers.
THREE
I have always found it very gratifying when my grand entrances are met with hysterical screaming and destroyed furniture. Appearing in the great dining hall of King Roderick and Queen Butterfly gratified my sense of the dramatic beyond anything I had experienced in a good century or two: eight dozen guards surrounded me with the leader’s sword drawn and at my throat, and the platinum chandelier destroyed the rosewater fountain, enhancing the usual reactions to my appearance.
“King Roderick Bethelbert the Brave and Queen Butterfly Crystal-pearl, how do you do? When last we met it was ‘Sir’ and ‘Princess,’ was it not?”
“Witch! Demon!” cried the king, brandishing a very large sword at me.
I rolled my eyes, trying not to lose patience with him too quickly. “Come now, your majesty, where’s your sense of honor? I know your memory has never been exemplary, but you can’t honestly tell me you don’t recall agreeing to hand over your firstborn to me.” I walked through the ring of guards, brushing aside the overeager leader with a glare until I was standing by King Roderick.
“You can’t have my little Bert-Bert!” gasped Queen Butterfly, her nervous white hands covering her mouth in horror.
I smiled sympathetically at her. “Unfortunately, your majesty, you don’t have any say in the matter. Assuming the boy is the progeny of your husband, he belongs to me. He swore in saliva and sealed the bond with the clasping of hands. That sort of contract leaves its mark if it’s not honored in a timely fashion.”
The queen glared at the king, her red lips pursing in a very menacing way. “You oaf, you told me that was eczema!”
King Roderick Bethelbert muttered, “Mimblewimble.”
“Back to…sorry, what did you call him?” I said.
Queen Butterfly Crystal-pearl sniffed, her large blue eyes filling with tears. “My sweet little Bert-Bert, what will I do without him?”
“Have another one,” I replied. “It can’t be that hard. Is his name really Bert-Bert, or does he have something more official and…normal?”
The queen blew her nose and whined, “His full name is Marcus Bethelbert Roderick William Aaron Gustavo Justin Trevor Louis the Adorable. Are you really going to take him away?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so. Don’t worry; I’ll take care of him.”
"But it’s his birthday!”
“Sorry, I don’t make the rules. Well, I do, but the timing is really beyond my control. Where is he?”
“I’m here,” said a young man’s voice behind me.
I frowned and then turned. The leader of the eight dozen guards had sheathed his sword and removed his helmet. Like his parents, he had blond hair, blue eyes, and his father’s rather strong chin. He looked a bit old to be a baby, though I always found it difficult to tell with humans. “You’re…erm…Bert-Bert?”
He rolled his eyes. “I go by Mark, all right? And yes, I’m the prince.”
“I see. You’re supposed to be younger,” I told him.
“I’m sorry?” he said. He didn’t look very penitent to me.
“Well, I suppose you’ll have to do, though I suspect this has thwarted my experiment.”
“Experiment?” I detected a note of concern in his voice.
“Nothing very exciting, just a study to determine the existence of original sin, but I have a feeling that you’ve matured too much to actually prove useful in such research.” I turned to King Roderick and Queen Butterfly. “It’s been delightful seeing you both again, and I must compliment you on the son you’ve given me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll let you return to your celebrations.” I linked my arm with Mark’s and transported us to my fortress with a nod of my head.
FOUR
Sons are exceedingly silly creatures. I didn’t feel I could attribute the entirety of Mark’s ridiculousness to his parents, because he was a very intelligent boy when he wasn’t being willful, asinine, or spoiled. I had to commend his equanimity when faced with spending the remainder of his development into an adult human in the confines of my fortress. When I explained to him the exact terms of his existence as my son, he seemed quite pleased with the situation. I admit, they were very generous terms. So long as he remained in the fortress and did not meddle in my experiments or things forbidden to him, I told him he might do as he wished. The only difficulty that arose was over the time when I would allow him to leave the fortress. I regretfully informed him that I required him to stay with me indefinitely, unless someone should come along with the skill and desire to do what is so prosaically termed a “rescue.”
“May I advertise my presence in your fortress?” he asked.
“No, you may not.”
“May I write my parents?”
“Afraid not, no.”
“How shall I ever be rescued, then?”
“You’d be surprised how these things work out,” I said to him, patting his shoulder to console him. “Really, it’s not so bad. You’ll live in relative autonomy and considerable luxury for the next several years of your life, and no one will ever call you Bert-Bert again.”
He sighed.
“You’re sixteen, Mark. What could you possibly do with your life now that you can’t do in a few years? As an experiment, you’re a complete waste, but you’ll be good company until someone drops by to take you off my hands. I can’t keep you here forever if you’re of no use to me.”
He seemed to take heart at this, and we spent the next few months quite agreeably.
He spent a rocky month near the end of his first year cajoling me to let him raise hunting dogs though there was nothing to hunt on my lands except the wolves. Though I hated to deny him, I really couldn’t afford to replenish the wolves’ numbers after doing so recently because of his father.
The year the dragons fell ill tried my patience greatly, because Mark discovered an uncontrollable passion for veterinary medicine, which I had tragically had to squelch because the dragons didn’t appreciate being anyone’s test subjects.
When he decided to try his hand at necromancy, and we were cleaning bits of body out of the dungeons for the next two years, I knew I could not keep him much longer. The inquisitiveness of the teenage male was really quite beyond my tolerance, and I sought professional help immediately.
FIVE
“Mistress to come quick! Mistress, dragons angry, come quickly!”
“Burn it, Higgins, I told you no more midnight insanity!”
“Higgins knows Higgins upsets Mistress. Higgins sorry. But dragons, dragons, madmadmad!”
Cursing the eccentricity of dragons and their limited merits as a security system, I drew my robe about my shoulders and followed my manservant along the labyrinthine halls of my fortress. Before long, I heard the brutal screams of incensed dragons and a warrior’s battle cry.
“Mother, what’s wrong?” Mark staggered up the passage, trying to tie his breeches, pull on a boot, and unsheathe his sword simultaneously.
“An intruder, I’m afraid, at this ungodly hour. I’m not entirely certain why Higgins felt it necessary to awake the entire household, though.” I glared at the humpbacked man, who avoided my eyes.
“Intruder slew two dragons. Higgins thought Mistress should know. Dragons never beat before.”
“Intriguing,” I said. I turned to Mark. “Care to watch the dragons dispatch this presumptuous hero? If they fail, which could prove to be a very expensive eventuality, you’ll have the opportunity of watching me at work.”
We proceeded to the observation deck atop the fortress wall. Once there, we could see the minute form of the intruder dodging among the four remaining dragons, lit up by the luminescent spurts of fire produced by the gargantuan reptiles. “Mother, may I propose something rather unorthodox?”
I smiled, but didn’t look at him. “Indeed, my son, you may.”
“If this hero does slay all the dragons, couldn’t you let him live? I mean, I’m twenty-one now, and I’m feeling a bit restless. You said if someone came to rescue me, I might leave, after all.”
I considered this for a moment. I remembered my words very clearly, and I knew Mark was not perfectly happy in his life at the fortress. I had grown accustomed to having him about, though, in spite of his unfailing ability to haplessly destroy my most delicate experiments. “What if it is not this hero’s intention to rescue you? What if his quest is academic or financial in nature? I can’t let him live, then, you know. If he’s here for you, then I shall bless you and bid you adieu, provided you promise to visit for major holidays. If not, I’m afraid I shall have to kill him because his quarrel will be with me.”
Mark nodded. “I understand. I just have a feeling about this one, is all, so I wanted to be sure you’d talk to him before blasting him.”
I smiled again.
The intruder made short work of the dragons, considering their size and number. As the hero pounded at the reinforced door of the fortress, Mark and I made our way to the audience chamber where I had forced Mark’s father promise to hand over his son to me all those years ago. Higgins brought the hero before us, wheezing like leaky bellows. I made a mental note to schedule a tune-up for my manservant as I turned my attention to the hero.
“Welcome to my fortress, worthy hero. You’ve slain all my dragons. What have you to say for yourself?”
The hero removed her helmet and brushed her sweaty brown hair out of her brown eyes. I heard Mark make a sound akin to that of a man just punched in the stomach from behind me. “My name’s Lyn. Well, actually, it’s Gwendolyn Lorena Ursula Minerva Priscilla Jane, but I generally go by Lyn, since all that’s such a mouthful.”
“Princess? Lady? Heroine?”
“Oh, sorry, princess. I always forget that part. I’m sort of new at this whole thing.”
“Quite all right, Princess Lyn. May I enquire after the nature of your quest?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” she began, digging in a pouch at her belt, “to rescue…hold on, I’ve got the paper here somewhere…the name’s so bloody long…ah! I’m here to rescue Prince Marcus Bethelbert Roderick -”
“Me! You’re here to rescue me!” Mark leapt forward, his hand raised.
Princess Lyn frowned at Mark a moment, glanced at the paper, scrutinized him a moment more, then nodded. “Looks like the description fits you.” Mark threw his arms around her, armor and soot and all, and her eyes widened with shock. “Just don’t go getting any ideas, Prince Marcus. I don’t swing that way.”
“Oh, of course not. I didn’t mean to presume,” he said, still grinning like a fool. “Mother, I bid you adieu.” He saluted me. “Princess, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.” He kissed her on each cheek.
“Watch it,” she growled.
“Right, sorry.” He blushed. “Well, I’ll just go pack, shall I?” Mark jerked his thumb over his shoulder, rocked on the balls of his feet, beamed, then sprinted out of the room.
Before his footsteps died away, I turned to Princess Lyn. “So, Princess…”
“Mother?” Mark had returned.
“Yes?”
“Do you think I could take the Goldengleam Armor in the second storehouse and the Dreadcleaver Sword from the best armory?”
“Oh, of course, my dear. You should wear the Demonhide Boots and the Grimshave Gloves with that armor, and I’d suggest the Whitherwrap Belt, as well.”
“Good idea.” He disappeared again.
“Do you think he’s really gone?” I asked the princess.
“I hope so, because I have other places to be tonight.”
“Understandable. How much do I owe you for rescuing my son?”
*****************
She thought a moment. “Eight thousand gold pieces should cover it.”
“Eight thousand! That’s highway robbery!”
We haggled over the fee, interrupted twice more by Mark, excitedly asking for the locations of several other useful pieces of armor and a novel of which he was particularly fond. I refused to pay Princess Lyn’s fee of eight thousand on the grounds that she had slain six expensive, well-trained dragons. She tried to hold her ground on the argument that said dragons had nearly cost her an arm and a leg. Finally, we settled on the sum of two thousand gold pieces and a phial of Elixir of Ether, which suited me, as I would be able to afford a dozen new dragons of much higher caliber than the ones I had lost to the princess’s sword. With a cheerful salute and a fat bag of gold, Princess Lyn left my fortress to fulfill her other engagements.
Much later, when he finished with his packing, Mark followed in the princess’s trail, determined to become her assistant to repay her generous rescue. I bid him farewell, silently thanking every deity and power in the universe that he wouldn’t cause any further havoc in my fortress.
I still see him occasionally, when he can manage to remember our agreement about major holidays. I’m to be a grandmother soon, and I’m certain I’ll be able to convince Mark to give me his child. After all, I have yet to prove whether humans are naturally good or evil, diapers be damned.
Notes on Child-Rearing
ONE
“Higgins, who is this man?” I asked, gesturing at the bound and trembling figure kneeling at my feet.
“Mistress, Higgins find man slaying wolves. Higgins bring man to Mistress. Higgins hopes this pleases Mistress.” The cock-eyed manservant tugged at his dreadlocks and bobbed an obsequious bow to me.
“Slaying the wolves?” I repeated. I turned to the tied-up man. “You pig, you less-than-vermin, slaying my darling wolves. How can you bear to cling to your worthless life?”
The man looked up, tossing his blonde hair out of his brilliant blue eyes. “How else was I supposed to approach the fortress? There are only three approaches, and I wasn’t about to attempt the storm-battered sea cliffs or the dragon plains. My best chances were with the mangy beasts on the mountain.”
“All right,” I said, seeing the logic in his assessment of my defenses. “My next question is why? Why would any reasonably healthy person with all his limbs and a great deal of life left in him want to approach my fortress?”
The man’s part-annoyed, part-cocky expression faded to confusion. “You are the sorceress holding Princess Butterfly Crystal-pearl hostage, are you not?”
“Oh!” I laughed. “Yes, that would be me. You came for that silly thing? Goodness, but I thought no one would ever come for her. Higgins, untie …I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
Higgins pulled up on the man’s arms, bound behind his back, to set him on his feet. “Ow-ach! Burn you, man, that hurt!”
“Name?” If I showed any patience with the man, I’d never be rid of him.
“Oh, right, Sir Roderick Bethelburn, at your service.” He swept a low bow now that his arms were free.
“Indeed, Sir…Whatever. I release you and commit the Princess Butterfly Crystal-pearl into your dubious care, extracting as payment for the deaths of my wolves, your sworn oath that you shall deliver unto me your firstborn child, to do with as I will. Have I your word?”
“My firstborn? Why, that’s preposterous! I would never…not in a hundred years…no decent person…!” he spluttered.
“Well, I suppose I can find space for you in the dungeons, if you’d prefer. Higgins…”
“Dungeons? I say, now, there’s no need…I suppose you’ve rats there?”
I sighed heavily. “I’m afraid so. Mold, too, and spiders.”
“Damn,” said Sir What’s-his-name tapping his well-endowed chin with a thick, scarred finger. “Just the firstborn? You won’t demand any more after that?”
“Gracious, no! I don’t think I can handle more than one child. You’ve heard the expression, ‘Never have more children than there are parents to care for them?’” The knight looked perplexed. “Whatever…have I your word and all that?”
“Oh, yes, of course.”
“Spit and shake on it, there’s a chap.”
TWO
You may be wondering why an immortal sorceress of my power and fame could possibly want a child, or, if that reason wasn’t obscure enough, why I didn’t have one of my own, or grow one. I certainly could do either of those things, if I desired. However, I suspected that pregnancy would not agree with my carefully maintained figure and would disrupt my life to the extent that I would not be able to continue with some of my rather more difficult projects. Even if I had wanted to impregnate myself, finding a man with whom I could actually bear all the ridiculousness required for procreation was absolutely impossible. Believe me, I had tried. Growing a child had its merits - after all, a child of my own creating would be quite an extraordinary creation - but the idea of beginning with a flawed specimen seemed far more attractive to me, and so I awaited Sir Thingy…well, yes, I remember his name, but it’s such a mouthful. Fine, I awaited Sir Roderick Bethelbert’s child.
A year and a half passed after my encounter with the knight. In that time, I gleaned from my raven spies that he married Princess Butterfly Crystal-pearl and became the heir to her father’s quaint little kingdom. Very soon, the princess found herself with child, and I began building a nursery for my new son. One of the niceties of having limitless power is being able to see how things will be. Thus it was that I saw that Sir Roderick Bethelbert would have forgotten the agreement he made with me by the time his child was born. Extra lucky for me because I could leave the little monster with his parents until after he was toilet-trained.
But back to why I wanted a child. It seems insane, I know. I had no need for an heir to my power and domain. I was not particularly lonely in my mountain fortress overlooking the sea. I did not feel the need to acquire a child to see if doing so would make me happy (I always knew Haggard had it right about the unicorns, if he would have just put a bit more thought into the matter). No, the reason I wanted a child was far more selfish than any of those. I wanted to know the feeling of shaping a life and a destiny from before it was ever conceived. The thought of molding and directing the child’s mind enticed me, and it would decide the question for me of whether humans were inherently good or evil beings. I suppose “decide” is too strong a word, for I intended to guide the boy in my own footsteps, which most humans considered evil. If he turned out good, then the theory would be proved. If he became as evil as me, I felt this would not be truly conclusive proof, but great fun nonetheless. The period required for toilet-training might have effects on the results of my study, I admitted to myself, but I felt it was a very worthwhile sacrifice to the accuracy of the outcome to not deal with soiled diapers.
THREE
I have always found it very gratifying when my grand entrances are met with hysterical screaming and destroyed furniture. Appearing in the great dining hall of King Roderick and Queen Butterfly gratified my sense of the dramatic beyond anything I had experienced in a good century or two: eight dozen guards surrounded me with the leader’s sword drawn and at my throat, and the platinum chandelier destroyed the rosewater fountain, enhancing the usual reactions to my appearance.
“King Roderick Bethelbert the Brave and Queen Butterfly Crystal-pearl, how do you do? When last we met it was ‘Sir’ and ‘Princess,’ was it not?”
“Witch! Demon!” cried the king, brandishing a very large sword at me.
I rolled my eyes, trying not to lose patience with him too quickly. “Come now, your majesty, where’s your sense of honor? I know your memory has never been exemplary, but you can’t honestly tell me you don’t recall agreeing to hand over your firstborn to me.” I walked through the ring of guards, brushing aside the overeager leader with a glare until I was standing by King Roderick.
“You can’t have my little Bert-Bert!” gasped Queen Butterfly, her nervous white hands covering her mouth in horror.
I smiled sympathetically at her. “Unfortunately, your majesty, you don’t have any say in the matter. Assuming the boy is the progeny of your husband, he belongs to me. He swore in saliva and sealed the bond with the clasping of hands. That sort of contract leaves its mark if it’s not honored in a timely fashion.”
The queen glared at the king, her red lips pursing in a very menacing way. “You oaf, you told me that was eczema!”
King Roderick Bethelbert muttered, “Mimblewimble.”
“Back to…sorry, what did you call him?” I said.
Queen Butterfly Crystal-pearl sniffed, her large blue eyes filling with tears. “My sweet little Bert-Bert, what will I do without him?”
“Have another one,” I replied. “It can’t be that hard. Is his name really Bert-Bert, or does he have something more official and…normal?”
The queen blew her nose and whined, “His full name is Marcus Bethelbert Roderick William Aaron Gustavo Justin Trevor Louis the Adorable. Are you really going to take him away?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so. Don’t worry; I’ll take care of him.”
"But it’s his birthday!”
“Sorry, I don’t make the rules. Well, I do, but the timing is really beyond my control. Where is he?”
“I’m here,” said a young man’s voice behind me.
I frowned and then turned. The leader of the eight dozen guards had sheathed his sword and removed his helmet. Like his parents, he had blond hair, blue eyes, and his father’s rather strong chin. He looked a bit old to be a baby, though I always found it difficult to tell with humans. “You’re…erm…Bert-Bert?”
He rolled his eyes. “I go by Mark, all right? And yes, I’m the prince.”
“I see. You’re supposed to be younger,” I told him.
“I’m sorry?” he said. He didn’t look very penitent to me.
“Well, I suppose you’ll have to do, though I suspect this has thwarted my experiment.”
“Experiment?” I detected a note of concern in his voice.
“Nothing very exciting, just a study to determine the existence of original sin, but I have a feeling that you’ve matured too much to actually prove useful in such research.” I turned to King Roderick and Queen Butterfly. “It’s been delightful seeing you both again, and I must compliment you on the son you’ve given me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll let you return to your celebrations.” I linked my arm with Mark’s and transported us to my fortress with a nod of my head.
FOUR
Sons are exceedingly silly creatures. I didn’t feel I could attribute the entirety of Mark’s ridiculousness to his parents, because he was a very intelligent boy when he wasn’t being willful, asinine, or spoiled. I had to commend his equanimity when faced with spending the remainder of his development into an adult human in the confines of my fortress. When I explained to him the exact terms of his existence as my son, he seemed quite pleased with the situation. I admit, they were very generous terms. So long as he remained in the fortress and did not meddle in my experiments or things forbidden to him, I told him he might do as he wished. The only difficulty that arose was over the time when I would allow him to leave the fortress. I regretfully informed him that I required him to stay with me indefinitely, unless someone should come along with the skill and desire to do what is so prosaically termed a “rescue.”
“May I advertise my presence in your fortress?” he asked.
“No, you may not.”
“May I write my parents?”
“Afraid not, no.”
“How shall I ever be rescued, then?”
“You’d be surprised how these things work out,” I said to him, patting his shoulder to console him. “Really, it’s not so bad. You’ll live in relative autonomy and considerable luxury for the next several years of your life, and no one will ever call you Bert-Bert again.”
He sighed.
“You’re sixteen, Mark. What could you possibly do with your life now that you can’t do in a few years? As an experiment, you’re a complete waste, but you’ll be good company until someone drops by to take you off my hands. I can’t keep you here forever if you’re of no use to me.”
He seemed to take heart at this, and we spent the next few months quite agreeably.
He spent a rocky month near the end of his first year cajoling me to let him raise hunting dogs though there was nothing to hunt on my lands except the wolves. Though I hated to deny him, I really couldn’t afford to replenish the wolves’ numbers after doing so recently because of his father.
The year the dragons fell ill tried my patience greatly, because Mark discovered an uncontrollable passion for veterinary medicine, which I had tragically had to squelch because the dragons didn’t appreciate being anyone’s test subjects.
When he decided to try his hand at necromancy, and we were cleaning bits of body out of the dungeons for the next two years, I knew I could not keep him much longer. The inquisitiveness of the teenage male was really quite beyond my tolerance, and I sought professional help immediately.
FIVE
“Mistress to come quick! Mistress, dragons angry, come quickly!”
“Burn it, Higgins, I told you no more midnight insanity!”
“Higgins knows Higgins upsets Mistress. Higgins sorry. But dragons, dragons, madmadmad!”
Cursing the eccentricity of dragons and their limited merits as a security system, I drew my robe about my shoulders and followed my manservant along the labyrinthine halls of my fortress. Before long, I heard the brutal screams of incensed dragons and a warrior’s battle cry.
“Mother, what’s wrong?” Mark staggered up the passage, trying to tie his breeches, pull on a boot, and unsheathe his sword simultaneously.
“An intruder, I’m afraid, at this ungodly hour. I’m not entirely certain why Higgins felt it necessary to awake the entire household, though.” I glared at the humpbacked man, who avoided my eyes.
“Intruder slew two dragons. Higgins thought Mistress should know. Dragons never beat before.”
“Intriguing,” I said. I turned to Mark. “Care to watch the dragons dispatch this presumptuous hero? If they fail, which could prove to be a very expensive eventuality, you’ll have the opportunity of watching me at work.”
We proceeded to the observation deck atop the fortress wall. Once there, we could see the minute form of the intruder dodging among the four remaining dragons, lit up by the luminescent spurts of fire produced by the gargantuan reptiles. “Mother, may I propose something rather unorthodox?”
I smiled, but didn’t look at him. “Indeed, my son, you may.”
“If this hero does slay all the dragons, couldn’t you let him live? I mean, I’m twenty-one now, and I’m feeling a bit restless. You said if someone came to rescue me, I might leave, after all.”
I considered this for a moment. I remembered my words very clearly, and I knew Mark was not perfectly happy in his life at the fortress. I had grown accustomed to having him about, though, in spite of his unfailing ability to haplessly destroy my most delicate experiments. “What if it is not this hero’s intention to rescue you? What if his quest is academic or financial in nature? I can’t let him live, then, you know. If he’s here for you, then I shall bless you and bid you adieu, provided you promise to visit for major holidays. If not, I’m afraid I shall have to kill him because his quarrel will be with me.”
Mark nodded. “I understand. I just have a feeling about this one, is all, so I wanted to be sure you’d talk to him before blasting him.”
I smiled again.
The intruder made short work of the dragons, considering their size and number. As the hero pounded at the reinforced door of the fortress, Mark and I made our way to the audience chamber where I had forced Mark’s father promise to hand over his son to me all those years ago. Higgins brought the hero before us, wheezing like leaky bellows. I made a mental note to schedule a tune-up for my manservant as I turned my attention to the hero.
“Welcome to my fortress, worthy hero. You’ve slain all my dragons. What have you to say for yourself?”
The hero removed her helmet and brushed her sweaty brown hair out of her brown eyes. I heard Mark make a sound akin to that of a man just punched in the stomach from behind me. “My name’s Lyn. Well, actually, it’s Gwendolyn Lorena Ursula Minerva Priscilla Jane, but I generally go by Lyn, since all that’s such a mouthful.”
“Princess? Lady? Heroine?”
“Oh, sorry, princess. I always forget that part. I’m sort of new at this whole thing.”
“Quite all right, Princess Lyn. May I enquire after the nature of your quest?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” she began, digging in a pouch at her belt, “to rescue…hold on, I’ve got the paper here somewhere…the name’s so bloody long…ah! I’m here to rescue Prince Marcus Bethelbert Roderick -”
“Me! You’re here to rescue me!” Mark leapt forward, his hand raised.
Princess Lyn frowned at Mark a moment, glanced at the paper, scrutinized him a moment more, then nodded. “Looks like the description fits you.” Mark threw his arms around her, armor and soot and all, and her eyes widened with shock. “Just don’t go getting any ideas, Prince Marcus. I don’t swing that way.”
“Oh, of course not. I didn’t mean to presume,” he said, still grinning like a fool. “Mother, I bid you adieu.” He saluted me. “Princess, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.” He kissed her on each cheek.
“Watch it,” she growled.
“Right, sorry.” He blushed. “Well, I’ll just go pack, shall I?” Mark jerked his thumb over his shoulder, rocked on the balls of his feet, beamed, then sprinted out of the room.
Before his footsteps died away, I turned to Princess Lyn. “So, Princess…”
“Mother?” Mark had returned.
“Yes?”
“Do you think I could take the Goldengleam Armor in the second storehouse and the Dreadcleaver Sword from the best armory?”
“Oh, of course, my dear. You should wear the Demonhide Boots and the Grimshave Gloves with that armor, and I’d suggest the Whitherwrap Belt, as well.”
“Good idea.” He disappeared again.
“Do you think he’s really gone?” I asked the princess.
“I hope so, because I have other places to be tonight.”
“Understandable. How much do I owe you for rescuing my son?”
*****************
She thought a moment. “Eight thousand gold pieces should cover it.”
“Eight thousand! That’s highway robbery!”
We haggled over the fee, interrupted twice more by Mark, excitedly asking for the locations of several other useful pieces of armor and a novel of which he was particularly fond. I refused to pay Princess Lyn’s fee of eight thousand on the grounds that she had slain six expensive, well-trained dragons. She tried to hold her ground on the argument that said dragons had nearly cost her an arm and a leg. Finally, we settled on the sum of two thousand gold pieces and a phial of Elixir of Ether, which suited me, as I would be able to afford a dozen new dragons of much higher caliber than the ones I had lost to the princess’s sword. With a cheerful salute and a fat bag of gold, Princess Lyn left my fortress to fulfill her other engagements.
Much later, when he finished with his packing, Mark followed in the princess’s trail, determined to become her assistant to repay her generous rescue. I bid him farewell, silently thanking every deity and power in the universe that he wouldn’t cause any further havoc in my fortress.
I still see him occasionally, when he can manage to remember our agreement about major holidays. I’m to be a grandmother soon, and I’m certain I’ll be able to convince Mark to give me his child. After all, I have yet to prove whether humans are naturally good or evil, diapers be damned.