Read Online The Very Large Princess by Sheela Word - Free Book Online Page A

Princess
Drusilla was the
intended bride.”
    “Fie,” said the Chamberlain. “He is
such a youth as would wed without his father’s blessing. E’en now
he and the Princess are fleeing toward some church or
abbey.”
    “Sire, I fear the truth lies
elsewhere,” said a young minister who hoped to distinguish himself
at Court. “Prince Aubrey is but a tool of his father. He hath
stolen the beauteous Margery at his father’s behest. She shall be
held captive, and we shall pay dearly for her safe return. Our only
choice is war!”
    Silence fell, and then discussion
again broke out, louder than before, with some counseling caution
(“Let us not be hasty, Sire!”) and others courage (“Your Majesty,
bold action is required!”).
    King Piers at last put up his hand to
stem the tide of voices, and not a breath stirred while he
considered. “We must summon the Captain of Armies,” he said at
last.
    “Nay,” said a voice that had not,
until now, been heard. Though she had spoken quietly, all eyes
turned to Princess Drusilla. “Father, there is ought that I would
tell you, but I crave a private audience.”
    The King dismissed his ministers. Ere
the heavy oak doors of the Hall had closed on the last of them,
however, a barrel-chested man of middling height thrust himself
into the chamber, shaking off a servant who tried to hold him
back.
    “Do you dare to breach this chamber!”
shouted the King, who recognized the intruder.
    Sober John, Prince Aubrey’s companion,
stepped forward and made a low bow, then stood up and met the
King’s angry gaze with his own steady brown eyes.
    “Have you taken hurt, John?” asked
Drusilla, offering her handkerchief.
    “‘ Tis only a scratch,
m’lady,” said Sober John, ruefully daubing his forehead. “The young
devil took my horse, else I would have overta’en them. I was near
abreast o’ them when my paltry nag bolted and tipped me off in a
bush.”
    “You might have had a courser from the
royal stables,” said Drusilla.
    “I feared to be thought a thief. First
a Princess, then a royal steed gone missing. Indeed, I am much to
blame, for never did I ken that Aubrey would do such a
deed.”
    “You have much to answer for,” said
the King, “But, quick, man, tell where they may be!
    “Alack, sire, I cannot say! They were
on the high road, when last I saw them, but likely have turned off
by now.”
    “Yes, they would have turned at Middle
Cross,” said Drusilla. “From thence, it is half-a-day’s journey to
the Chalet of Duc Pepin De Coeur.”
    “Aye,” exclaimed Sober John, “It may
well be so!” And he pulled from his sleeve a piece of parchment
that was covered in fine script. “When I woke this morn from a
sleep more deep than nature ever wrought, I found this missive
tucked up in my doublet.”
    John, he read. You have ever been an
over-watchful friend. Yet your eye did miss the draught I poured
into your mead last night, and now you lie before me as a felled
ox. Perhaps I was unjust to treat you so, but this is the last
trick I shall play. I am for a new life. In the words of the
immortal Pepin De Coeur,
    Love is like a lake,
Lady
    And thou art like a
swan
    Thy artless
gaze
    Thy gracious
ways
    Must draw the lover
on
    Farewell,
    Aubrey
    “The young cur!” King Piers
sputtered.
    “Father, Aubrey oft did
tell me that he wished to become a troubadour, in the style of
Pepin De Coeur,” said Drusilla. “ ‘ If I but had a muse’ he would say,
then gaze at me with such a gleaming eye, I took it all for
jest.”
    “Aye, and it is naught more than a
lad’s folly,” said Sober John. “But it shall take a deal of trouble
to convince him so.”
    “Lad or no lad, he shall be dragged
back in irons!” bellowed the King.
    “Margery would weep to see him treated
thus,” said Drusilla. “And you must know, Father, that Aubrey ne’er
would do her harm. No, let him stay with the Duc if he will, but
Margery must be brought home.”
    “Aye, that is the best