A Charm for a Unicorn (8 page)

Grateful?
He must be kidding. Ann would have said something wonderfully spiteful and sarcastic, but Leonie couldn't think of anything. She wanted to scream at him, but in her frail, human form she couldn't risk his wrath.

"You have mud in your hair and your dress is a sight. I'll send your chambermaids to help you bathe. There are new clothes in the wardrobe.” Sir Wulfe pointed to a huge, ornately carved wardrobe, but Leonie only had eyes for the fireplace. Her teeth chattered, and as soon as Sir Wulfe left the room, she limped to the fireplace and knelt in front of it, stretching her hands toward the flames for warmth.

After being in the unicorn's form, her own body felt absurdly delicate and weak. Her legs trembled and her heart crashed against the walls of her chest. The unicorn had been wild and strong. Quicksilver ran in its veins, and its bones and sinews had vibrated with pure energy. It could leap over streams and fences, its eyes saw in the dark, and its horn was a formidable weapon. But its mind had been the most strange and wonderful thing. Nothing human nor animal touched it—untamed as the wind, and clear as rock crystal, it had a thought pattern unique to itself. It sought neither comfort nor company, but instead craved perfect freedom and independence. As a unicorn, she'd not needed anyone, and the lightest touch, even from her beloved Renaldo, had seemed as constraining as iron chains.

Now she was human again, weak and needy. She wished she could be both human and unicorn, so that she could find the strength and cunning to escape this place.

Someone knocked on the door, and Leonie looked up in time to see two footmen come in carrying a copper tub, followed by at least ten servants with jugs of steaming water. Then came two elderly chambermaids with stern faces, gray hair, and starched aprons. They looked alike enough to be twins. The bustle in the room made Leonie feel faint, but she managed to get off her knees and stagger to a chair. She didn't want to be seen crouching next to the fire like a cinder-girl.

"All great houses have proper procedure,” said one of the chambermaids, after the tub had been filled and everyone had left. “My name is Jan and this is Merle.” Merle, the other chambermaid, curtseyed. “We are here to serve you."

"I'd rather take my bath alone,” said Leonie.

The two women glanced at each other. “We will wait in the hallway. Call us when you are through and we will help you with your dress and hair."

"I don't need anyone to help me dress.” Leonie wondered how she could escape if there were so many servants around at all times.

"Of course you need help dressing. You must learn how to be a real lady.” Merle had a piping voice and black, beady eyes like a black-bird's.

Both women bowed and left the room, and Leonie took her bath, still feeling stunned. At least the water was steaming hot and soothing.

While in the tub she took the time to look around her room. Pale blue silk covered the walls, and the bed had a canopy swathed in the same colored silk. The room had a highly polished dark wood floor, but a fine rug of rose and blue tufted wool covered most of it. A large chair sat next to a writing desk, and four lamps of delicately blown glass had been placed on the mantle and on the bedside tables. Candle-sconces on the walls and a gilt-edged mirror completed the decoration. As Sir Wulfe had said, it was fit for a princess.

Wrapping a linen towel around her, she went to look out the window. She could make out a wide lake and formal gardens. In the moonlight, a family of regal white swans swam on the black water. Her fingers tightened on the sill and she had to bite her lip to stop from crying. She would not cry. She would find a way to escape and get back home, to her family, and to Renaldo.

With the little snake crawling over the books and showing her the spells, Ann managed to charm Cook back to human form. It exhausted her, and she had a blinding headache afterward, but it was a relief to see Cook. She brought Ann hot milk and biscuits in bed and fussed over her like when she was little.

She couldn't revert her father back to his proper form, but that was because Sir Wulfe had cast the spell upon him, and his magic was terribly strong. And, for some reason, she couldn't revert Bob. So the lop-eared dog stayed in the kitchen, and when Ann went anywhere, he trotted at her heels.

Prince Sylvain went to the village to find a sturdy pony for his journey. Sir Wulfe lived a good two week's ride away, and the weather grew chill as autumn arrived. Ann didn't mind frost and snow but Leonie was always cold, so Ann asked Sylvain to bring an extra cloak for her, and for a minute she buried her face in the soft flannel lining, hoping her sister was all right and not locked in a cold, dark dungeon.

"I'm sorry,” she whispered, her face still pressed to the cloak. “It's all my fault. If I hadn't asked Renaldo to meet Leonie that night, this would never have happened.” She raised her head and watched as Sylvain cantered into the courtyard on a pretty brown horse, and she wondered where his brother Renaldo could be, and if Sir Wulfe would really bring him back.

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Renaldo heard the wind rushing around him. In an instant it picked him up and carried him away. He could do nothing to escape the grip of the whirlwind. It surrounded him, held him in a grasp both insubstantial and unbreakable. Flinging his arms out did no good, it only turned him upside-down.

After a while he managed to straighten himself out, and then suffered a moment of paralyzing fear when he looked down. The invisible whirlwind let him see that he flew across plains and rivers, as high as the wild goose flies, and as fast as the wind could blow. In the moonlit night, he watched cities and forests pass beneath him. The land grew barren and a desert spread below him, then mountains grew, springing upwards in jagged cliffs and peaks.

The noise of the whirlwind deafened and battered him. He cried out as loudly as he could but his voice was lost in the roaring wind. Then finally, as the sun rose, the whirlwind quieted and deposited him on what looked like the edge of the world, on a spit of rocky land surrounded by wild ocean.

Stunned, dizzy, and exhausted, Renaldo stood upon the narrows. For as far as he could see in front and on either side of him, the ocean stretched to infinity. Behind him, the narrow shingle led to a distant, misty shore and he decided to hurry toward it lest the high tide leave him stranded.

Waves rose and fell crashing in a white froth upon shiny, round pebbles, and he struggled to keep his feet as the stones rolled and slipped beneath him. Soon Renaldo's clothes were drenched and his eyes stung with sea-spray. He'd bruised and cut his hands and knees, but he hurried, for as he'd surmised, when the tide changed the waves covered the spit and he had to swim the last fifty meters to shore.

There, he dragged himself past the waterline and fell in a heap on a bed of sun-warmed sand. Pressing his cheek to the earth, he closed his eyes and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He woke up when a foot kicked him on the shoulder. The foot was attached to a leg, attached in turn to a large, surly looking man with a patch over one eye.

Sitting up in the sand, Renaldo looked at the man. “Why did you kick me?"

"Because I wanted to see if you were alive.” The man shrugged. “Lots of bodies washing up on this beach lately. Must have to do with the war."

"War?” Renaldo got to his feet and brushed the sand off his clothes.

"Aye. Doesn't concern me, though. I'm a recruiter, not a fighter. You on the other hand look able enough. And since my mission is to recruit and you have all your arms and legs, I think we'll get along just fine."

"Now look here, I can't waste my time...” Renaldo stopped when he saw the man's saber in his hand.

"You were saying?” the man asked, hefting the saber.

"I have reconsidered. Where do I sign up?"

"Right this way.” The man grinned, his gold tooth glinting. He pointed with his saber and Renaldo led the way down the beach. They crested a rise, and there, on the other side of a narrow isthmus, spread a wide, calm bay with a ship anchored in the middle. “You'll be thankful I didn't just leave you to rot on the beach. This is an island, you see. You wouldn't have gotten far, just walked around in circles for a few weeks before dying of hunger."

Renaldo saw the man was right, and a shiver of relief ran through him. Then he looked closer at the boat. Its sails hung in tatters and its timbers looked half rotted. He hesitated, and felt a saber prick his back. “That looks like a loser's ship,” he said, pointing. “Are you sure you want to recruit me? Maybe I don't want to choose sides."

"Aye, well, that's settled then, I'll choose for you. I'm recruiting for the Kingdom of Alonzo, and we're fighting against the kingdom of Hidalgo. Used to be all one kingdom, ye know, the kingdom of Querel, but the brothers got into an argument one day and the war has been going on for three years now. We're running out of volunteers."

Now Renaldo's feet faltered and the prick on his back grew stronger. “I'd rather try to remain neutral in this fight. Getting caught between feuding brothers is bad policy."

"Can't do that, lad. I make my living recruiting. The army pays more each year for the new recruits. So tell me, boy, have ye any talents that might come in handy on a ship?"

Now Renaldo stopped and turned. “Why?"

"Because they pay extra for talent.” The recruiter shrugged.

"Well, I did do a bit of sailing last year, and navigation was always easy for me.” Renaldo thought for a minute as he scratched his chin. “Let's talk business before we go down there. Just how much do you get for recruiting me?"

Surprise lit the man's one eye and he stuck the saber in the sand and leaned on it. “Well now, a pragmatic prisoner. That's a nice change. I get two gold coins per recruit, and each talent he possesses gets me another gold coin."

"Not bad.” Renaldo lifted his eyebrows. “I'll tell you what. I'll tell the Captain I can sail and navigate, if you give me one gold coin. After all, you're making a handsome profit on me and my modest talents."

"You're not serious!"

"If you agree, you'll get three gold coins. If not, you'll only get two."

"Two?” the man sputtered. “But you told me you could sail and navigate, that's two talents more!"

"Only if I agree. Otherwise I'll deny knowing anything and you'll only get two coins."

The man pulled his saber from the sand and shook it in front of Renaldo's face. “That's not fair! I'll kill you, how does that sound?"

Renaldo shook his head. “I don't think the army will pay you for a dead sailor, do you? I'm helping you earn another gold coin.” He gave him his most charming grin and said in a wheedling voice. “I've no wish to end up skewered on your saber, and you wouldn't mind earning three gold coins now, would you?"

"Well, if you put it that way.” The man pointed to the ship with the tip of his saber. “Go on now, I'm right behind you, and no funny business."

Renaldo sighed deeply. “You have to give me the gold coin now. I don't suppose you'll be inclined to give it to me later, and if you don't give it to me now, I'll tell the Captain I get sea-sick."

"You don't, do you?” The man looked horrified.

Renaldo stuck out his hand. “The coin, please."

After he pocketed the gold coin, he walked with a jaunty stride down to the edge of the water where a rowboat lay beached on the sand. “I suppose you'll be wanting me to row?"

"You are a smart fellow. I've a feeling you'll be working your way up in the ranks in no time. Why, t'wouldn't surprise me to hear you'd been made chief navigator, or even first mate this time next year."

Renaldo tried to look both thrilled and modest. “You're too kind,” he said, pushing the boat into the water. “After you?"

"I'll push off.” The man kept his saber in his hand as he leapt into the boat and settled in the stern. “Go on, put yer back to it, boy."

Obviously he trusted no one, thought Renaldo with some amusement. But despite his easy grin and bantering, he trembled with impatience to be off toward his kingdom and to Leonie. He would get her back, and find some way to reduce Sir Wulfe to a pile of smoking ashes.

The man cleared his throat. “You've just about broken that oar, lad. Take it easy now. No one's going to hurt you if you behave."

Renaldo looked up, surprised. “Sorry, I was just thinking about someone."

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the steady splashing of Renaldo's oars, then the man said with a serious tone. “Take my advice, lad. Forget your thirst for revenge. Whatever happened to you, put it behind you. I've seen the look in your eyes before, and it leads to nowhere but sorrow."

Renaldo paused, then resumed rowing. “I can't. He's taken my true love and I won't rest until I get her back."

The man nodded. “Oh, aye, I didn't think you'd agree just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “But when you do find yourself face to face with your enemy, remember what I said. The lust for vengeance poisons a man's soul."

"A recruiter and a philosopher.” Renaldo grinned, but his heart wasn't in it. The ship loomed near and the gold coin in his pocket was all he possessed. Still, he knew how to sail, and navigation came easily to him. And he would find Leonie. He would return to her, whatever road he had to follow ... or whatever sea he had to sail.

He stowed the oars and grabbed the rope ladder dangling from the side of the boat. “I suppose you'll be right behind me?” he asked the recruiter.

"With my saber pointing up, so make sure you don't slip, lad,” he said with a laugh.

Renaldo proved himself an able sailor—so much that he soon rose to a position of responsibility—the assistant chef. True, he knew how to navigate and could tell a mainsail from a jib, but his real talent lay in peeling potatoes. At least, that's what the cook had told him. So, he sat in the dark kitchen, paring knife in hand, a burlap bag full of potatoes at his feet.

"To be sure, I'm a clever fellow to have landed on this ship. It could have been worse, I might have been left to rot on the island. At least here I get food and water, and the work isn't too hard. We're sailing south, and my talents for navigation tell me I'm heading in the right direction.” He sighed and tossed a peeled potato in a pot of salted water. That's when he noticed the mouse. Smaller than the smallest mouse he'd ever seen, the tiny creature looked like a gray, furry walnut with beady, black eyes.