CHAPTER 2:
The two unblinking beads continued to stare at the prince. The figure stayed in the shadows, but the prince noticed from its strange silhouette that it held something that he recognized. He realized that the crack that shook the walls had come from a thick leather whip. The creature gave another yowl of menace. When it spoke again, the prince realized the voice indeed sounded like it belonged to a young woman's.
"I am the master of this castle. The old man trespassed into my home. He's my prisoner. You can't take him from his cell."
"Please," the prince pleaded, "He was being hunted and he needed shelter. If you leave him like this, he'll die. Just let me take him home and you won't see us again."
The figure cracked her whip once more and her voice narrowed "Don't you dare tell me what to do, boy. The old man can die in that cell for all I care. Be grateful it's much better than being torn apart by wolves." She turned away like she was done with him and began climb back up into the shadows. "I don't want my tower filled up with more idiots. Get out of my castle before I change my mind."
The prince stood his ground. "I'm not leaving here without Alfred".
Without turning around, the figure said, "Get him out."
Suddenly, a suit of armor that stood innocuously against the wall by the cell door, came to attention. It sheathed the sword it held in its metal glove and grabbed the prince by the waist. It tried to throw him over its shoulder but the prince moved quickly. He began to strike several times with his blade and hilt, aiming for the joints in the arm to wound his attacker. Upon impact, one armored arm dislodged itself from the rest of the body and fell to the floor with a loud clang. To his horror, the prince realized that the armor was hollow. Its sudden dismemberment didn't slow it down in the slightest. It was like being pulled away by a stone wall. It was useless to fight back.
The prince dropped his sword and cried, "Wait! Wait! Please, just take me instead!"
The castle's master didn't seem to hear him. The prince strained to take a step forward but the armor held him back. He continued to plead, "I beg you. Alfred raised me and protected me my whole life. He's saved me more times than I can count. I can't leave him to die here alone." The prince strained forward until he could drop to his knees and bow. "I swear to you on the memory of my mother and father that I will not try to escape and I will be your prisoner. You can command me as your servant. I will fulfill any task you ask of me."
The master made no response, but she turned towards the prostrated figure before her.
Meanwhile, Alfred struggled to remain upright against the bars and weakly protested at the prince, "You bloody fool! No-take it back-! You can't stay here-!" but his own sick throat interrupted him.
Finally the master spoke, "You'd really trade the rest of your life for this geezer?"
The prince looked up to meet her gaze in the shadows evenly, "Yes."
"Then you are an idiot. Go play hero somewhere else. Your words mean nothing to me."
She started to turn away again, but suddenly the prince managed to free one of his hands and there was a glint of metal. He held a dagger to his chest, ready to pierce his heart.
"I will give you my life. In exchange for his."
The figure in the dark didn't move or say anything for a long time. Alfred was so horrified, he had stopped breathing.
"Let him go," the master commanded the armor, "Take the old man to the edge of the forest and leave him there. Make him go quietly." The armor immediately released the prince and opened the cell door. Before Alfred could even protest, it spouted some kind of gas from its helmet straight into his face. Alfred fell limp and the hollow puppet threw him easily over its shoulder. The prince grit his teeth as he watched Alfred disappear down the stairs, leaving the tower.
Out of nowhere, a whip cracked at his hand causing him to drop his dagger. The pain jolted back his attention. The master of the castle was leaving the shadows and walking towards him.
"You, boy. I don't think you know the difference between being brave or crazy."
Suddenly, a small portion of her silhouette separated itself and moved ahead at its own pace. As it came closer, the prince realized it was a willowy old cat. It must have been the source of the yowling. It still growled at the prince under its breath as it padded towards him.
Its master slowly came into the light. It was a young woman. Given the cold, she was wearing a heavy cloak lined with various furs but he could tell that she wore a dress underneath it. Both the cloak and dress looked ragged. The garments may have been fine once before but they looked very worn. Her hair was a shock of wild golden curls. She wasn't even as tall as him; in fact she was much shorter. He was still unnerved when he saw her fully revealed.
She was wearing a mask. The beads of light he mistook for her eyes in the dark were glass lenses that veiled her eyes. The mask was decorated in a way to give it the facade of a menacing cat. It concealed every inch of her features. She was probably staring right into his eyes but he could never know. He glanced at her hands in tight leather gloves. She did indeed posses a long whip that ended with a set of cat o' nine tails. He didn't doubt she knew how to use it.
He couldn't help staring. The masked young lady stared right back.
"Well? Come along then, servant. You're mine now."
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She held up the candelabras that he had brought up to the tower and led him back down the dark hallways of the castle. Her cat vanished into the shadows to attend to its own affairs. The prince followed the masked young woman obediently in silence. For a long while, they did not speak and the only sound made between them were their soft footsteps.
As they descended the grand staircase, the young woman finally said to him, "You will call me 'Master' or 'Lady'."
"Yes, my lady."
She glanced at his direction, checking his voice for any hint of insolence. "If you're going to stay here, I want you to understand one rule. Don't go anywhere near the west wing of this castle."
"Yes, my lady."
She whirled around at his automatic response. "I mean it," her voice went low and much sharper. "That area is mine. If you ever set one foot in the west wing, I will scratch your eyes out before leaving you to freeze in the highest tower." She held the candle flames up his face threateningly, but the prince didn't blink. He met the glassy gaze of her mask evenly and replied, "Yes, my lady, I understand you."
She accepted this more measured response and continued onward down the steps. "I don't even know why I'm going along with this. The last thing I need is a servant." She set down the candelabras on the nearest table and snapped her fingers quite loudly. Before the echo could even die, the whole room was filled with light. All the candles in the chandeliers high above them had lit themselves. The prince could see the room they stood in clearly for the first time. They were in the great hall, which contained a long table for dining in the center. The room had a high ceiling with tall windows. It was a grand room but it had long been unused. All the furniture was hidden completely under dusty covers. The windows were covered by thick and aging curtains.
"Just so you know, the castle is magic and it does whatever I ask."
"Don't get used to it though. I hate magic and you're not allowed to use it." She snapped her fingers again and the room returned to darkness. She picked up the candelabras and made her way towards the doorway at the other end of the hall. The prince followed without missing a beat.
"It does get boring here, so you could be entertaining for a while." The prince thought he saw a sinister look cross her face.
"So you say you'll do whatever I tell you to do, huh? Fine, let's put that to a test."
She had brought him to a storeroom past the kitchens. As she opened the door, a gust of white flurries escaped the room. They both walked inside, and for a moment, the prince felt like he had entered a cloud. His eyes adjusted to the dim light and he realized that every inch of the room was covered in a multitude of feathers. The air from the opened door sent thousands flying through the air. If he didn't breathe carefully, he could easily inhale a lungful and choke.
"Your job for tonight is to clear the room of feathers and return them to their sacks. I'll give you until tomorrow morning. Then I'll decide if you're more useful in a dungeon." Without another word, she shut the door behind her, sending more feathers flying through the air.
The prince stared at the predicament before him and began to think.
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The suit of armor stopped walking when at last it had reached a random spot at the edge of the forest. It dropped Alfred's limp body on the ground and clanked away back to the castle. Alfred lay unmoving for a while before he started to regain consciousness. When he awoke, he realized that the air was warmer and there was no longer snow in the forest around him. He could see a cloudless night sky through the trees and felt the summer wind blow against his face.
He began to cough violently again, but he struggled to his feet. He leaned against a trunk for support and looked around for the direction he must have come from. He could not see a path, but he started to stumble through the trees anyway, hoping for some kind of change in temperature or a trace of snow so he could find his way back to the prince. Alfred ran in circles for almost an hour, but he never found the way back. He cursed under his breath before collapsing against a tree.
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The master of the castle rose with the sun the next day. She secured the mask over her face and went to check on her unfortunate new servant. She wondered how long he actually tried to complete the task she gave him before giving up. She was already trying to decide how long she would leave him in the dungeon before giving him another impossible task. She was in such deep thought that she didn't notice she had not been hit with a face full of feathers when she opened the door to the storeroom. She blinked when she realized the room was spotless. There was not a single feather in sight. It was also quite tidy and cleaned of dust.
The prince was securing the last of the sacks that must have contained all the feathers in the room. He bowed slightly when he saw the master enter. "Good morning, my lady," he said placidly. He didn't look the tiniest bit smug. His expression remained neutral as he stood back and let his work speak for itself. The master only paused for a moment before going over to inspect the contents of the sacks. She confirmed they were indeed filled with feathers. She looked carefully around the small room before she turned back to the prince and said, "You didn't cheat, did you? You're not hiding some magic lamp, are you?"
The prince shook his head. "No, my lady. I'm also not very fond of magic. I just did as you asked."
She tried to read his expression. He didn't seem to be lying to her. "Alright, I don't care how you did it. This job was probably easier than I thought." She turned to the door and went back out. "Come on. I'll give you some real work to do."
The prince caught the clump of fur she had picked up off the floor and thrown at him. He coughed and blinked at the dust that scattered when he caught it. When he looked at it again, he realized it was a coat. "You're going to be spending a lot of time outside. You might need that." She had slipped on her own fur cloak along with a thick pair of boots. She was already on her way out the castle's back passage and into the cold morning air. The prince followed her closely without complaint. They walked past the stables. The prince was happy to see that Grayson had made himself at home inside. He seemed to get along with the lady's own mount that already lodged there. It looked like an old cart horse that was put out to pasture a long time ago. It grunted at him when they went by.
He wondered if the lady had noticed that Grayson had a fresh supply of hay and a blanket, but she made no comment. The prince had enough time to tend to him before completing his task from last night.
The master and her servant headed towards the woods. At first they followed a well-worn path, but then the master soon deviated from it. She started to dart past trees, leap over fallen logs and hop over rocks. They traveled for a considerable time, but she never tired nor slowed in her step. It was clear that she knew these woods intimately. The prince was conscious to keep up with her pace.
They finally stopped when they reached a pond. The master bent down and picked up a random stick from the ground. She threw it at the prince and he caught it. "Today, I'm giving you three tasks." She pointed at the pond, "Your first one will be to drain that pond using only that stick." She was smirking inside her mask when he looked at the stick in his hands and back at the pond. The winter hadn't frozen the surface, but the murky waters still looked extremely cold. She turned around and began to walk towards a different direction. "Your second task is by the lake." He kept ahold of the stick and followed her. A few minutes walk from the pond, they came upon a lake that flowed between two cliffs. The master walked over to the lake's sandy bank where there was a pile of stones as tall as she was. She patted one of the stones and said, "I want you to build me a bridge out of these rocks. Feel free to use the same stick I just gave you." The prince stared at the immovable structure she stood on. "I'm sure this will keep you busy for a couple of months or so." She jumped off the rock and skipped her way back in the direction of the woods as she landed. "You can come back to the castle when you've finished. Find a way to stay warm while you're out here."
She continued to walk away when the prince said, "Wait."
The master stopped and turned, "Is there a problem?"
"You said there were three tasks." The prince now held the stick limply at his side. His expression was like stone. The master began to wonder if he was really taking any of this seriously.
"Oh yeah," she said. She looked around and raised her head until she saw something in the direction of the cliffs. "There," she pointed a finger and said, "Fetch me a feather from the nest that's built at the top of the highest tree on the edge of that cliff." The prince raised his eyes and searched the cliff edges. He couldn't be exactly sure which tree she meant. He was still searching when the lady turned and walked away. "Remember if you have any problems completing the tasks, you're welcome to a more peaceful life in my dungeon." She waved him a mocking goodbye without turning around and disappeared among the trees. The prince inspected the stick he held in one hand and considered the dirty mass of fur he held in the other. He stood alone with his thoughts for a long time as he listened to the river beside him.
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Two weeks passed and the master had already forgotten about the strange boy who had arrived in her castle one evening. After all the nonsense she asked him to do, anyone would have just escaped to the forest as soon as they had the chance. There was no way he was going to keep his word. A few days after she had left him in the forest, she simply put him out of her mind and assumed he made his way home. She did notice that he had left his horse in the stables, which was a rotten thing to do. She continued to care for it out of pity. She was glad that he got along with her own reliable old steed, Slam. She didn't know how he got through the forest on foot, but she didn't care. She didn't mind that he escaped. As far as she was concerned, she was glad to be rid of him.
One morning she decided to go out hunting. She was quite fond of using a crossbow. She had just spied a bird of prey sitting on a branch. It was busy feasting on a fresh kill in the nook of a branch. It was still unaware of her presence, as she drew close and took aim. She had her finger ready on the trigger when a voice behind her said, "Excuse me, my lady."
She didn't cry out in surprise but she did dispatch the bolt. The arrow missed, startling her target. It fled swiftly among the trees. The carcass of its fresh kill dropped into the snow. She whirled around in fury. She was already yelling at the boy before she realized he was standing there, "Dammit you spoiled my shot!"
He bowed slightly and said, "Forgive me, my lady."
She stood back a bit and looked at him. "What? What are you still doing here? I thought you had run off or something."
"No, my lady. I gave you my word that I wouldn't try to escape."
She shook her head. "God, you're unbelievable. What do you want then?"
"I've come to let you know I've finished all your tasks."
The lady snorted at him, "Yeah right. All of them?" she asked dryly.
The prince nodded. He gestures towards the forest and said, "Yes. Come and see."
The lady tilted her head, not sure it was wise to take him seriously. He didn't look any worse for wear since she had left him. He was wearing the coat she had given him though it looked like he had cleaned it up somewhat. As always, his expression betrayed nothing. She considered the strong possibility that he had gone mad in the two weeks he had spent alone in the woods.
She sighed and said, "Alright. Show me."
They had reached the location of the pond. The young lady inspected it closely. All that was left of the pond itself was a muddy pit and the remaining plant life that had thrived in the watery depths before it had been drained. She looked at it for a long time, saying nothing. She turned to the prince and said, "Where's the stick?"
He seemed to have expected this question, so he produced it from behind his back and gave it to her. She turned it over in her hands. It didn't look damaged in any way that she could tell. A small trace of a smile seemed to creep into his face. She didn't look up, but she kept ahold of the stick. She started to make her way towards the lake.
They arrived at the sandy banks by the cliffs. Somehow, several large rocks had been moved from the side of one cliff and embedded themselves into the river. They could each provide a foothold for anyone who might wish to cross the river safely. She stood at the river's edge and considered any way she could invalidate this as a bridge. She gave up and turned towards the boy. She jabbed the stick at his general direction in an accusing way.
"Is this a trick? You've been using magic, haven't you?"
"No, I promise. I haven't used any magic," the prince replied.
"Then how did you do all this? Even if you could have done this alone, it should have taken you months."
The prince shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck, "The problems of each task could be solved with a bit of time and energy."
The lady crossed her arms, "Just tell me how you did it. Start with that first night and the feathers."
It had been a simple matter of finding some wool. The prince had found a whole collection of wool in another storeroom. He then wrapped some woolen fibers over several wooden handles and made a special kind of duster for feathers. By continuously rubbing two sticks of wool together, it would generate enough attractive force that would cause feathers to cling more readily to the fibers. He collected the feathers this way and stuck them into their sacks with more ease than if attempted to do it by hand.
The lady only grunted at this explanation and moved him on to the matter of the pond and bridge.
The prince knew that a pond was actually a kind of basin. Ponds technically weren't supplied with water from larger bodies of water like a lake. The water they contained usually came from rain. The prince had to search the bottom the pond for a clay base that kept most of the water from draining into the naturally porous earth. What made this task difficult was wading in the cold water. The prince only had a limited time to remove as much clay as he could before he had to get warm and dry. But he made sure to build a natural shelter with a large fire nearby. Overall, it only took him a few days to clear enough clay to create a large enough drain.
He pointed at the stick she held. "I actually did use the stick you gave me. I used it to tap clay rocks at the bottom and pry them out from the mud. I was lucky the pond wasn't that deep."
As for the rock bridge, the prince noted that the rocks sat on sand. He applied the same methods that ancient Egyptians had used in moving large rocks. He collected several logs in the woods and formed a row in front of each large rock. He would push the rock over the logs and they would roll it towards the lake. The loose sand made it easy for the logs to roll. He also needed to calculate which smaller rocks he needed to move out of the way on each bank. This way, he could easily lever the bigger rocks to fall where they needed to. This whole process required a lot of precise calculation in predicting how the rocks would fall, tumble and slide. He worked tirelessly until he had two rock paths from either side of the lake meet in the middle to form a bridge.
"I'm glad it worked. Sometimes, these things only work in theory." He did look relieved in that moment. He was quite proud of what he accomplished.
If she hadn't been wearing a mask, the master would have gaped openly at prince. It was incredible how practical each solution was when he explained it. It was like a magic trick. Something marvelous was accomplished with a bit of sleight of hand and clever thinking.
"Wait," said the master, remembering, "what the about the third task?"
"Oh yes, that." The prince reached into his pocket and produced a tiny red feather. He presented it to her for inspection.
She didn't take it from him. She couldn't believe it. "You mean you actually climbed up the tallest tree on the cliff?"
"Well, I know a bit about the ornithology of the land. It's likely only one type of bird has built a nest high on a tree above those cliffs." He put the feather back in his pocket and reached inside his other pocket. He brought out a tiny red-breasted robin and perched it on his shoulder. He whistled at it and the little bird answered him back with a similar reply.
"I just happen to be good at bird calls."
The robin pecked at him slightly before flying away towards the cliffs. The prince turned towards the mask that stared at him and asked, "So my lady, have I done well?"
The master had no idea what to do with this boy.