A/N: I won't have internet for the next few weeks, and so I won't be updating. But I hope to in that time to write a few chapters in advanced. Enjoy!

Chapter III - The Cursed Sword

Donald seemed to relax a bit once he knew the boys were safe. Scrooge didn't quite know what to make of that. Of course he cared for the boys, he had raised them after all. But the problem was was he wasn't completely sure on why Donald would think that they weren't safe here.

Donald had grown up here, him and Della. They had always seemed to be happy here… so what was he missing?

And where did Della fit in?

"What do you want?" Donald asked, Scrooge not even noticing that he had zoned out.

"What?"

"I'm assuming you wanted something seeing as you practically dragged me here?"

"What do you mean, 'What do you want?' Where have you been? You've been missing for the past 10 years, and you're asking what I want?"

"I don't see how it's any of your business where I've been. I've told you I was leaving, and I left, you got my letter, right? I am an adult, granted freedom of where I live, work and socialization,"

"That letter could have easily been forged, or written under duress. Why would you leave."

"... I don't have to justify my choices to you,"

"I'm the king, I think I'm allowed to know why my heir left… taking three children with him. If anyone here has kidnapped anyone it's you,"

"She gave me the boys," Donald replied threateningly, "So it's not kidnapping, I took care of them because that's what she wanted for them,"

"She wanted you to run away with them."

"Yes,"

"If she wanted that, why couldn't she do that herself?"

Donald didn't reply.

"Where is she?"

"... I don't know."

"You don't know! You both disappear one night without a trace, and you don't know where she went?"

There was a brief pause.

"She's gone, okay. Just accept that you've lost both of us. If you were really that concerned about us you would have never have lost us in the first place. You're just concerned with your politics. It was never about our family… was it? I'm not losing the boys to your messed up games of power,"

"It was always about our family. Don't you dare say I didn't care. I did! I've worked hard for our kingdoms prosperity. Too hard for you to just walk over it with a poorly timed personal rebellion!"

"If you don't mind, you're probably better off with us out of your hair now anyway. Wouldn't want a scandal on our hands, now would we. All sorts of bad publicity, The Prince returns, turns out he just was sick and tired of his Uncle's..."

"What are you going to do, take the boys?"
"Of course. There better off as far away from this place and you as possible."
"They're better off on a boat than in a castle?"

"They're better off free," Donald growled.

The door burst open, Scrooge turned, ready to snap angrily at the intrusion, "What-"

Mrs. Beakley didn't even flinch, "I hate to interrupt but the boys seem to have disappeared."

"You lost them,"

"They're probably still around the castle. I just figured I could use your input."

Webby slipped through the castle quietly, searching for her grandmother. Webby had finished tidying up the small suite she shared with her grandmother, a perk of being the head of staff, a task that often fell to her as her grandmother was always busy. Usually by this time her grandmother would have fetched her to help get ready for lunch, or have had someone else send for her. But this time her Granny had neglected to, and Webby was nothing if not curious.

"So what exactly are we looking for?"

Webby stopped short at the voice, as she stepped out of a passageway. She didn't recognize the voice. It seemed to be a boy's, about her age. One of the stable hands perhaps? That would have explained why she didn't recognize the voice. They rarely had the need to enter the castle proper. She was about to continue on when she heard another, similar, but distinct voice reply.

"I don't know something cool, expensive."

Thieves. There were intruders in the castle.

This was her chance.

Webby took some rope from her satchel and quickly tied it into a lasso, and as the trio rounded the corner she quickly threw it around the invaders, and they didn't even get much of a chance to protest as she tied them up and dragged them back through the passageway into an "unused" room.

"Who are you and what are you doing in the castle? Who sent you!"

"Don't hurt us,"

"We're just here because of out Uncle Donald."

"Uncle Donald? Like Prince Donald? You're the nephews! The princes!"

"Yes?" Huey finally sputtered out, his brain barely registering his new title. Webby briefly considered if it could be a lie. But the boys were obviously triplets, about her age, and cut them down.

"What's your Uncle like? Who's the oldest? Whose the evil one? Tell me everything?" Webby bounced around them with glee. This was the most exciting thing to happen in the castle in forever. At least as long as she could remember.

"I'm the oldest-" Huey began before being cut off.

"We live on a boat?" Dewey interrupted shrugging.

"And eat fish" Louie added. There was a pause.

"A lot of fish?" Louie continued.

"And?"

"That's about it?"

"We just lived normally traveling from place to place. Typical sailor stuff."

"No way, Prince Donald was the bravest sailor to ever have lived," Webby said, almost in awe. Of course the legendary sailor prince would have fled to the sea.

"We haven't even survived any strong storms while at sea," Dewey muttured.

"Of course, a good sailor would know when strong storms are coming and to avoid them,"

"...Okay?" Louie asked, casting the girl a strange look.

"...Wait a second who are you anyway?"

"Oh, right, I'm Webby. My Granny's the head of staff… Wait…"

"What?"

"Are we friends now?"

"What?"

"Oh, I almost forgot you're the princes… oh no you're the princes… Granny's going to be so upset when she finds out I tied you up…."

The boys shared a few looks, "Don't worry about it."

"Why not?"

"What?"

"We can be friends I guess…" Huey shared a look with his brothers, " we're honestly pretty new here, so we could use someone who know their way around."

"Speaking of which, we're trying to find our Uncle Donald? Do you know where he could be?" Louie asked.

"Or, better idea, do you know where the coolest parts of the castle are?" Dewey asked with a grin

"Oh, sure, no one knows the castle better than me." Webby said with a mix of pride and embarrassment, before realizing that they had requested something of her, "Oh, this way,"

The triplets looked and shrugged behind her, as Webby opened a bookcase and walked into the walls. The boys followed her, as she led them through twists and turns.

"You lost my boys," Donald said in a low growl as he followed Beakley through the halls.

"Manners," She said, "I'm trying to keep a low profile at the moment, would you rather I recruit the entire castle in looking after them,"

Donald mumbled something unintelligible, which Beakley took as a begrudged agreement.

"This is the hall of secrets!"

"This looks like a room full of old junk,"

"Hey, some of this stuff is pretty cool, like look at this painting,"

"That is king Malcolm. I suppose he would be your great-great…. I don't know, how many greats, grandfather… or maybe it's… no, I'm pretty sure grandfather… anyway, he's a relative of yours."

"Cool," Huey said, studying the painting, "It looks really old,"

"That's why it's kept in here," Webby said, "for safekeeping, there's mostly old paintings, some suits of armor and weapons and stuff in here,"

"Cool," Dewey said lifting a sword,"

"Uh, that's probably not a good idea,"

"Dewey, you'll hurt yourself,"

"I will not,"

"A screech sounded,"

"A lot of the stuff in here is cursed."

"You didn't think to mention that before?" Louie asked.

"I didn't think you'd touch anything,"

The screech managed to echo around the castle.

"I think we found the boys,"

"What is going on here!" Scrooge demanded, barging into the room.

"Oh, no, uh Your Majesty," Webby fumbled nervously, moving slightly to stand behind Huey.

"Webby!" Beakley scolded, as she entered with Donald.

"Granny!" Webby exclaimed,

"You're Granny is Mrs. Beakley?"

"You met her?"

"She was the one who showed us to our room?"

"She did introduce herself as the head of staff…" Huey noted, "And Webby did say her grandmother was the head of staff,"

"You're just telling us that now?"
"I wasn't paying attention!"

"I see you found the princes," Granny said a

"Uh, sorry granny, I thought they were intruders… I mean…"

"It seems your not too far off," Scrooge grumbled

"No, it was me I showed them,"

"Save it Webbigail," Scrooge sighed. Webby shrank behind Huey even further.

"We asked her to show us around," Dewey defended.

"Boys…" Donald began.

"You've been keeping secrets from us," Louie cut him off accusingly, as a sword flew right passed his nose.

"You set off a cursed sword?"
"How was I supposed to know it was cursed?" Dewey asked.

"I tried to warn you," Webby told him.

"After I had already picked it up,"

"That's enough," Scrooge said, "That sword is cursed to draw blood every time it's unsheathed."

"So…. someone has to die?" Louie asked nervously.

"Webbigail, go fetch a steak from the kitchen,"

"Oh, um, okay!"

"Boys, help me keep it busy!"

"Way to go Dewford," Huey whispered.

"How was I supposed to know it was cursed?"

"Look out," Donald cried, pulling Huey out of the swords path. Scrooge raised his cane, and began to sword fight, or at least he kept it busy parrying, as he didn't have anything to attack, "You could be hurt,"

"You owe us an explanation, Uncle Donald,"

"Later, didn't I tell you we would have this discussion later?"

"You left and told us to find Beakley, you didn't tell us anything?"

"Where is Beakley anyway?"

There was a thud as out of nowhere a wooden block, about the size of a small cat was thrown in front of the sword, getting it stuck. With the sudden extra weight, the sword fell to the floor, the sword continued to move violently however.

"Thank you Beakley,"

She only nodded in response.

"I brought the steak. Fresh from the butcher!"

"That should do lass," Scrooge said, grabbing the steak from her tray and rubbing it over the sword, slicing it, and getting the sword bloody in the process. The sword stopped its movement. Beakley handed him a rag, which he used to wipe the blood off, before going to yank it out?

"Should you really do that?" Huey asked, "I mean, it will just start chasing people again once it's resheathed and taken out again. Scrooge looked at him for a moment.

"Clever boy," Scrooge agreed, "Let's leave this here."

"Uncle Donald…"

"Well, Webby and I will be off. Call if you need something. Mrs. Beakley left the room, and Webby gave a small wave before following after her.