The Princess Who Rode on a Mule Read online

  She clasped Susannah’s hand, and they stood together like sisters for a moment, ere Hadley recollected that she must dress.

  “’Tis strange,” she remarked, while the maid helped her into her gown, “That they do not come within. Have they made no attempt to force the doors?”

  “Belike they wait for his lordship,” said Susannah.

  ~~~~

  When Hadley entered the Great Hall, she found it full of persons, yet strangely quiet. As if by common consent, no one stood by a casement. The King sat, like a statue, at the head of the long, empty table, and waved away his ministers when they tried to speak to him. The courtiers clustered in corners, talking quietly or not at all, their faces pale and frightened. The servants hovered near the door and made no attempt to do their daily tasks. ‘Twas odd, Hadley thought, to see Cook without a ladle.

  Hadley went to her mother, and grasped her hands. “We are lost,” whispered the Queen.

  There was a slight noise, and the Queen gasped. “’Tis naught,” Hadley said, for she knew the noise came from within. But when she looked up, she saw Lord Vardis entering the Hall, supported by his two henchmen. He was pale, but fully dressed, and on his face was a smile of triumph.

  “I know not why my knights have not yet joined us,” his lordship said gently, as he slowly made his way across the Hall towards the heavy barred door that led to the courtyard. “I shall go out to greet them.”

  “Stop him, Father!” shouted Hadley. “We must keep him here!”

  “I can walk unaided,” Lord Vardis said to his henchmen. “Lift your halberds.”

  They did so, and none dared confront the steely blades that were swung so efficiently.

  “Lord Vardis’s knights are welcome here!” shouted the King in a faltering voice. “Hail to Lord Vardis, Regent of Glerny!”

  Hadley ran to the door and put her back against it, but Joan and Ingrid pulled her aside ere his lordship’s men could reach her. Now one of the men was raising the bar of the great door, while the other guarded Lord Vardis with his halberd….Now Lord Vardis was passing through the entry….A knight came forward to take his arm….Quick! Shut and bar the door!...Nay, too late! Another knight had come to hold it open….Now all the knights would storm into the palace….Naught could be done! Naught could be done!

  All eyes were fixed upon the door. Some faces were despairing, others full of fear. The seconds passed, each seeming like a minute. And then it seemed an hour had gone by. ‘Twas hard to wait for what was surely doom. A minute must have passed, or mayhap ten. When would they come, and why did they delay? One knight stood stiff against the heavy door, but where were his fellows? They could not be seen.

  Mayhap it was Princess Ingrid who first ran to the casements, but others—lords and ladies and servants alike—soon followed, pressing themselves against the windows, and rising onto their toes, to have a better view.

  “They ha’ surrounded his lordship!” shouted a manservant, who was taller than the rest. “I see the halberds….Methinks they have ta’en the halberds of his men. And now they are passing them o’er the crowd.”

  “They pass the halberds?” asked one of the King’s counselors, who was not at the window.

  “Nay, the men! They pass them over, hand to hand, helpless as babes. They are bound, methinks!”

  “Nay!” scoffed several.

  “’Tis true!” shouted the manservant. “And his lordship also! The large knight hath him well in hand!”

  “They betray him!” cried Ingrid.

  “’Tis not possible,” said some courtiers, pushing forward and trying to gain a place at the casements.

  “Lord Vardis in irons,” said Ingrid. “A sight I never thought to see!”

  The watchers fell silent, until one cried out, “They are coming,” striking dread into the hearts of all.

  “Nay. ‘Tis but one knight,” said Ingrid, craning her neck. “Mayhap he hath led them all to revolt against his lordship.”

  Then came the sound of heavy footsteps, and a familiar voice called out “Sire! Sire! ‘Tis Robin Cope!”

  And so it was. When he entered the Great Hall, Hadley knew him by his size and shape and style of walking, though the armor made him seem another man. The knight who held the door, came in behind him, and the heavy door fell back, with a thud, shutting off all noise from the throng without.

  Robin doffed his helmet and let it drop upon the floor. “Sire,” he said, approaching the King, who was still seated at table, seemingly lost to all the world. His Majesty blinked and turned his gaze to Robin. “Art thou a traitor, Master Cope?”

  “I am thy faithful servant e’en now,” said Robin.

  “I am an old man. Help me to my chamber.”

  Robin held out his arm, and the King grasped it and rose slowly to his feet.

  The other knight approached then, and removed his own helmet, which he placed under one arm. “King Valentine of Glerny,” he said, making a slight bow. “I am Tom Browne. And I depose you in the name of the people.”

  “Wouldst have our crown?” gasped the King, as he leaned on his Steward’s arm.

  “Nay. Keep your crown, but henceforth, it is a worthless thing. There shall be no more of kings and crowns in Glerny. I shall be Chief Counselor for a fortnight, and then we shall take a poll and the populace shall appoint new governors.”

  “Hast thou ought of noble blood?”

  “Nay.”

  “But those who wait in our courtyard...there are some, mayhap, who are noble. Vardis’s knights, methinks, are highborn men.”

  “Nay. There are no knights without. Some hours past, we waylaid his lordship’s men and robbed them of their plated mail, which we then put upon ourselves that we might more easily approach and pass through your defenses. But be not dismayed. No blood shall be shed here.”

  “We do not say you are i’ the wrong,” murmured King Valentine. “’Their wives and babes,’ I heard him say.”

  ~~~~

  Tom Browne served as Governor for two years, and then was replaced by Dame Cardonell, who served four. Despite much opposition from the nobility, and some setbacks, the land of Glerny endured, and its people prospered.

  ‘Twas pleasant for Hadley at Basingham Manor, though the household was much reduced from what it had been at Court. Most of the servants, and nearly all of the courtiers, departed when they discovered how straitened the royal family’s means had become. The Queen and her daughters were forced to perform household tasks themselves. Ingrid found this irksome, but Joan and Hadley did not mind. Hadley oft worked in the large kitchen garden, and Robin worked with her, when not called upon to serve her father.

  King Valentine was ever full of humors, but his choler bred no terror now. He had grown old and weak beyond his years, and rarely stepped outside his bedchamber. Some said his days were numbered, and they spoke true, for he did not long survive his dethronement.

  Queen Maud, at last, was sovereign of her house, and her daughters were given leave to plan their futures. Joan did not wed James, who had returned from exile, but instead journeyed to Wilgefortis, where she took up orders and in time became an abbess. Ingrid surprised everyone by wedding the noble Prince Tristram of Verimot, who was so besotted with her lively charms that he overlooked her lack of title…and her wayward nature.

  And Hadley, of course, married her father’s Steward. After the King’s death, Robin purchased a small plot of land in a nearby village, which he and his wife and her mule worked together, until ‘twas a prosperous farm. They begat nine children, who became fine men and women, and the name of “Cope” grew much respected in the village. Robin never resumed his original surname, which was “Bullock.” “Though I am a great hulking creature,” he told his wife, “I’d sooner not be called an ox.”

  Lord Vardis ne’er would take a wife, but was kept in captivity always, for he had been tried and convicted of murder and many other heinous crimes. His chamber was near the top of Glerny Tower, that he might ope the casement
and look out far and wide upon the world he had lost…and that he might be near the great bell now hanging within the tower belfry. Its peal was mighty, and he would hear it ring out, once at dawn and once at dusk, every day for the rest of his life.

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  “The Princess Who Rode on a Mule” is the ninth story in “Nine Princesses: Tales of Love and Romance,” available for $3.99 on Amazon.com. Have you read the others? An excerpt from the first story, “The Melancholy Princess,” is below.

  The Melancholy Princess

  Princess Anne would gladly have traded places with any other person in the land of Glerny. She envied her father, known as “King Charles the Just”; her mother, an exceedingly graceful horsewoman; and her brother Guy, a cheerful, doughty lad who gave promise of becoming a worthy sovereign. She begrudged the cook his capons, the jester his japery, and the scullion her saucy demeanor. She cast a yearning eye even upon the lame beggar and his wife, who tenderly clasped hands as they awaited alms at the courtyard gate.

  But it had not always been so: as a child, she had been full of pride. Her smallest accomplishment had seemed notable, her lightest desire worthy of gratification, and her general character far beyond the commonplace. She would be Queen one day, and was this not proof that she had been marked by Destiny?

  Guy, born when she was twelve years of age, had supplanted her in the succession, and yet she was not much troubled by it. E'en to be Princess was a wondrous thing. Many ladies at Court did tell her so, and many gentlemen hastened to do her bidding.

  She did not know when she had begun to change, nor precisely how. One day, she bit into an apple and delighted in its sweetness. The next, she tried another and found it without flavor. And now at nineteen, she had become thoroughly weary of her favorite pursuits, mistrustful of her closest companions, and scornful of her own skills and disposition.

  ‘Twas useless to speak of her discontent, for had she not all that maidens delight in? Nor was she adept at concealing her poor spirits. Hence she shunned society. She spent her days reading, watching birds from the palace tower, or walking in the forest that abutted the palace grounds.

  King Charles and Queen Justine were much confounded by their daughter. They sometimes thought her mad and pitied her, and sometimes thought her willful and condemned her.

  “Something must be done,” said the Queen at last. “’Tis February, a month as changeable as ‘tis short. Last night ‘twas raining, but now the sun doth shine. Dull Winter passeth away, and all at Court rejoice, save Anne. Her countenance hath grown harsh with melancholy, and I mislike to see it….There is an Abbey in the North, methinks.”

  “Aye,” said her husband. “’Tis called Wilgefortis.”

  “Let us send her hence, that the good nuns may keep her until such time as she is restored to good humor.”

  “Nay. Let her bide here yet awhile. Yestermorn, I had a letter from the King of Bevoire. He would have us receive his eldest son for tutelage in the art of government. I shall write forthwith to convey my assent. The youth, I’ve heard, is of an age to wed. ‘Twould be a good match for Anne.”

  “We shall see,” said her Majesty. “Yon peevish miss hath ever declined to receive suitors.”

  As it happened, however, the Prince of Bevoire never came to Court. His ship had docked safely in Sidslund, but in the course of journeying from thence to Glerny, he had stopped in Millaghise and been caught up in the celebrations honoring the birth of Crown Prince Ranulf. It appeared from his message that he greatly enjoyed the festivities and intended to remain in Millaghise indefinitely.

  “A paltry youth,” said the King, with some choler. “When next I seek a bridegroom, I shall look closer to home.”

  “’Tis no matter,” said his wife. “She would not have accepted him in any case. May we not send her to the nuns? E’en Guy turns from his sister. This morn he called her ‘plague’ and ‘harpy.’”

  “Didst thou rebuke him?”

  “Aye, most severely, but his elfin smile won my forgiveness ere my speech was done. In faith, he is a handsome lad, with his golden curls.”

  Princess Anne was dark, not fair. Even her skin was of a dusky hue not commonly seen at Court. ‘Twas said that she favored the old Queen, his Majesty’s mother, who had come to Glerny from the sunny, far-off land of Carbano.

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  The complete version of the “The Melancholy Princess” is available for $0.99 on Amazon.com.