Damsel Disaster! (5 page)

“Your Royal Highness!” declared the High Steward. “Welcome! I wasn’t expecting you.”

It was the princess!

“Hello, Countess,” she said. “I spotted that rather soggy knight leaving and I couldn’t resist coming to watch the others. Have I missed anything exciting?”

Was there something familiar about that voice?

“You
could
say that, Your Royal Highness,” said the High Steward.

Sir Percy gave another squawk as he tried to wriggle free of the bush.

“Good gracious! Who on earth is
that in my favourite rose bush?” said the princess. “He’s wrecking all my blooms!”

“That,”
said the High Steward, “is Sir Percy the Proud.”

At that very moment Sir Percy tumbled out of the rose bush, right at the feet of the princess.

She gasped. “
What
did you say his name was, Countess?” she asked.

“Sir Percy, Your Royal Highness,” said the High Steward.

“
Sir Percy
,” said the princess. “Well, well.”

“Indeed so, Your Royal Highness!” shmoozed Sir Percy, struggling to his feet. “Have we had the pleasure of meeting before? How delightf—”

“Oh, we’ve met before all right,” the princess cut him short. “But it certainly wasn’t a pleasure. There was a bush involved
then,
too. And
you
said your name was Sir
Patrick
!”

The princess pulled down her hood.

I was right. I
had
heard her voice before. Princess Astra-Felicia was none other than the young woman Sir Percy had disastrously failed to rescue the day before!

Sir Percy went rather pale. “Ah – er – well, yes – um – ha ha!” he spluttered. “Well, I’m sure we can – um – let bygones be bygones, eh, Your Royal Highness? No hard feelings, and all that? What do you say?”

The princess glowered at him.“You’ve got two minutes to get off my island!” she hissed. “
That’s
what I say.”

“But – but what about the challenge?” wailed Sir Percy. “Don’t I get another go?”

“Certainly not,” said the High Steward. “You know the rules. One go only. Guards! Escort these gentlemen to the boat.”

“And if you set foot on my island again I’ll lock you up at the top of my highest tower,” cried the princess. “And throw the key into the lake!”

“I’ve won! I’ve won!” bellowed Sir Roland as the guards arrived. “I’m gonna marry the princess! Hur-hur!”

“Well done, Sir Roland!” simpered Walter. “My master’s just the right husband for you, Your Royal Highness. And I’m the
perfect
squire.”

He smirked at me nastily. I gave him a furious glare in return.

“Not so fast!” said the princess, looking Sir Roland up and down. “I need to think before I decide if I want to marry you or not. I will tell you my decision at sunset. High Steward, see that Sir Roland waits here until I send for him!”

And with that Princess Astra-Felicia swept past us into the castle.

Chapter Seven

Frock Shock

“Go home? Nonsense, dear boy!” said Sir Percy. “I’m not giving up that easily. If Roland ends up marrying the princess I’ll never hear the end of it. No, there is
another
way to the princess’s heart.”

“Really, Sir Percy?” I said.

“Yes, Cedric. You see, I have a little
back-up plan
.”

Sir Percy, Patchcoat and I were standing a little way from the ferry that had brought us back to the town. Sir Percy checked no one was looking, then fished a small bottle of strange red liquid out of his saddlebag. “Here, Cedric. I’d like you to look after this for me.”

“What’s that then?” asked Patchcoat, giving me a wink. “More tummy potion?”

“Oh no. My tummy has been fine since my last little – um –
episode
,” said Sir Percy. “This is the
real
reason I nipped into the alchemist’s. It’s a
love
potion.”

“A
love potion
?” I said.

“Indeed,” said Sir Percy. “When the princess drinks it, she will fall madly in
love with the first person she sees. All I have to do is make sure that the first person she sees is
me
. The alchemist said that just a few drops should do the trick.”

“But isn’t that … cheating, Sir Percy?” I said before I could stop myself.

“
Cheating
, Cedric?” said Sir Percy. “Certainly not. The effects of the potion only last a short time. But that will be enough to allow the princess a proper chance to, um, appreciate my merits. Unless, of course, you’d
prefer
Sir Roland to marry her?”

“Well, no, I suppose not.”

“Excellent,” said Sir Percy. “Now we must return at once to the castle!”

“But it’s only two o’clock in the afternoon,” I said. “Sunset’s not till eight.”

“So we must make hay while the sun shines, Cedric,” said Sir Percy. “The longer we have, the more chance there is of success!”

We walked back to the jetty. The twin sisters eyed us suspiciously.

“’Ere,” said one. “We thought you’d been sent ’ome.”

“Like that other gentleman,” said her sister. “The wet one.”

“Oh, ah, I – I forgot something,” said Sir Percy. “I’m – er – just nipping back to the castle to fetch it.”

“No way,” said one of the sisters. “Clear off.”

“Of course, of course!” said Sir Percy breezily. He gave me and Patchcoat a rather obvious wink. Subtlety isn’t always Sir Percy’s strong point.
Now
what was he up to? “But first you might want to catch that chap climbing through your cottage window.”

The sisters looked at each other in alarm, then turned and ran to their cottage.

“Quickly, into the boat!” hissed Sir Percy. “Grab the oars and row!”

We landed on the edge of a wood on the other side of the island from the castle and tied the boat to an overhanging tree.

“Goody!” said Sir Percy. “Now, how can we sneak into the castle without being seen?”

“Through the kitchens?” I said.

“Precisely what I was going to suggest,” said Sir Percy.

We slunk through the trees towards the castle, being careful to avoid the clearing where the challenge had taken place. We reached the kitchen yard without bumping into the High Steward or Sir Roland.

Stewie the goat bleated as we crept across the yard. We froze. But nobody came.

I peeked nervously around the kitchen door. “All clear!” I said.

We sneaked through the kitchen. A door at the far end led into a wood-panelled corridor. All seemed to be going well. Then we heard footsteps!

We ducked back into the kitchen. The footsteps got louder.

“Into the privy, quick!” said Patchcoat.

We dived into the servants’ privy just as someone entered the kitchen.

“Now, where did Peggy put that blinkin’ broom?” said a voice. It sounded like one of the castle servants. “I know! Maybe it’s in the privy.”

In a panic the three of us dived for cover behind the princess’s dresses. A split second later, the loo door opened.

“Ah, there it is!” said the servant. I held my breath as her hand grabbed the broom that was leaning against the wall about a foot from my head. She shut the door and we waited till she had walked away.

“This is impossible,” sighed Sir Percy. “Even if we actually manage to get out of the kitchen
and
avoid the High Steward, one of the servants is bound to see us and raise the alarm.”

I popped up from behind a fine satin evening gown.

“Well,” I grinned. “There is
one
way for you to sneak through the castle unnoticed, Sir Percy.”

I nodded at all the fancy frocks.

“Blithering breastplates!” said Sir Percy. “My dear Cedric, are you mad? Surely you are not suggesting that
I
, Sir Percy the Proud, famed throughout the land as a shining example of knightly manhood, should resort to wearing – a
dress
?”

“It’s only an idea, Sir Percy,” I said. “But they’ll hear you coming a mile off if you go clanking through the castle in your armour.”

“Hmm,” Sir Percy frowned. “I suppose you do have a point…”

“And remember that bit in
The Song of Percy
where you dressed as a slave girl?” Patchcoat piped up. “And single-handedly captured a ship full of pirates?”

“Erm – er… ”

“How does it go again?” said Patchcoat. “
Hail, Sir Percy, brave and wise, the greatest master of disguise!
”

“Ah… Oh, well, of course, if you put it like
that
,” said Sir Percy. “There’s – um – no harm in seeing if any of these frocks happens to be my size, eh?”

Sir Percy started to rummage among the princess’s wardrobe.

“Nice one, Ced!” whispered Patchcoat. “I can’t wait to see Sir Percy in a dress!”

“And well done for quoting
The Song of Percy
,” I said. “I can’t remember that bit at all.”

“Not surprising,” said Patchcoat. “I made it up.”

“Here we are!” said Sir Percy. He held up an expensive-looking pink silk frock with a matching pointy headdress. “Everything else is too short so this’ll just have to do. Cedric, help me out of my armour and into this dress.”

“Yes, Sir Percy,” I said. I tried not to smile. A bloke in a frock! I couldn’t imagine anything more hilarious.

“And while you’re doing that, Ced, I’ll find something for the pair of us,” said Patchcoat.

“Huh?” I said. “What do you mean?”

“Well, there’s no point only
one
of us being disguised as a woman, is there?” he chuckled. “Now, I’m sure I spotted a few serving-maids’ dresses somewhere.”

I shook my head in horror.

“Oooh no,” I said firmly. “Don’t even think about it, Patchcoat. No, no, no, no, no. I am NOT, repeat
NOT
wearing a dress. Absolutely not. I refuse. Point blank. No. Nope. No way.”

“There!” said Patchcoat, adjusting the maid’s cap on my head. “You make a smashing girl, Ced!”

He pursed his lips and pretended to try and kiss me on my cheek.

“Oi, gerroff!” I said. “And why do these bodices have to be so tight?”

“Count yourself lucky,” said Patchcoat, hitching up his skirt and scratching his legs. “These woolly knickers are as itchy as heck!”

“Now, stop messing around, you two,” said Sir Percy, swishing one of the princess’s plush velvet cloaks round his shoulders. “We had better get out of here before somebody else comes. Cedric, do you have the potion?”

I patted the pocket of my apron. “Yes, Sir Percy.”

“Excellent. Now, I’d better just check my disguise
one
last time.”

He held up a mirror. Actually he looked rather good in the dress. Apart from his stubbly chin and hairy chest.

“Splendid!” he declared, putting down the mirror. “How poor old Spence would have loved this!” he chortled. “
Such
a pity he had to go home!”

“Shh!” said Patchcoat suddenly.

We froze. Someone had entered the kitchen and started clattering and clonking about. Then we heard more footsteps, hurrying this time.

“You, girl!” snapped a voice. “What are you doing?”

It was the High Steward!