First three chapters

Elsewhere’s Castle

CHAPTER 1

Not just any horse

There is a Castle somewhere – not so much here, or there, or even right over there, but Elsewhere – which is as large as a town and filled with as many people. It has towers and battlements and huge open courtyards but, at the same time, it feels like home to a great many people. Built into the Castle are all sorts of different houses of different shapes and sizes and these have their own gardens, courtyards, and terraces. The Castle itself has its own much larger open spaces with lawns, pavilions, long flower beds, and tree-lined paths and avenues. The Castle is also surrounded by its own gardens and grounds that run down to a river on one side, a lake on another, and wide open parkland and fields on yet another.

Right in the middle of this Castle, in the Palace Quarter, there lived (at least, at the time this story begins) its most important inhabitant. This was the Royal Princess. She was known to most of the other inhabitants of the Castle by her nickname, Princess Fusspot.

However, it’s very difficult to say whether Princess Fusspot was fussier than she was princessy, or put another way, whether she was more princessy than she was fussy.

For example, when she was first told the story of the princess and the pea, she had grabbed the story out of the hands of her nursemaid, looked at the picture, and said: “Nobody could sleep on mattresses that thin. Or piled that high, so close to the ceiling. Or in such a small room – and with the window closed. The bed doesn’t look like it’s been dusted for ages. I don’t like the way she’s done her hair…her nightgown is much too plain…”

“Besides,” she had gone on – eventually – to say, “Peas aren’t nice. They’re also difficult to eat. I prefer roast beef…with gravy! Or ice cream!”

Nursemaid 239 had definitely not pointed out that that wasn’t really the point of the story.

Princess Fusspot was with another nursemaid at the moment this story starts. She was telling the nursemaid that she was completely hopeless. She had begun by telling her that she was completely hopeless for not having arranged all of her toys alphabetically but she had moved on to tell her she was completely hopeless for a large number of other reasons.

Please don’t think we’re being rude for not introducing you to the nursemaid but, well, she’s the 472nd nursemaid in a bit less than two years (for those who like mathematics, that’s more than one and a half nurses a day) and frankly there’s just no point in you getting acquainted because Princess Fusspot will have probably have fired her in about an hour or so.

And we haven’t properly introduced you to Princess Fusspot. When you hear her name you’ll understand why. Her full name was Princess Ermelinianne Antoinettella Katillioffe-Cramemberger-Halioch-Halioch-Delipapoun von Erf. Therefore, most people called her Your Royal Highness or, if she was out of earshot and couldn’t see them (she was pretty good at lip-reading), they called her Princess Fusspot; sometimes shortened to PFP.

We can’t properly introduce you to Princess Fusspot’s parents, the King and Queen, either because they started going on lots and lots of holidays a few years ago and have hardly been seen since. Princess Fusspot had demanded a horse for her birthday, the birthday before they started holidaying, and, by the time they had left, she had turned down as ‘completely hopeless’ hundreds of horses. She had called her parents ‘completely hopeless’ hundreds of times as well. And Kings and Queens don’t much like being called ‘completely hopeless’. They’re just not used to it.

They left the running of the Castle and the realm to Anton. Anton was their Major Domo. A Major Domo is not a king, or even a general, but they are usually in charge. Anton was also in charge of Princess Fusspot. Of course, it’s not really possible to be in charge of someone like Princess Fusspot but he did his best. Princess Fusspot had wanted to fire Anton hundreds of times but she couldn’t because only the King or the Queen could fire him and they were still on holiday. So Princess Fusspot and Anton kind of put up with each other.

Coincidentally, at this very moment, Anton was about to enter Princess Fusspot’s Royal State Nursery Apartments. He knocked politely on one of the large, high doors that led to these apartments.

“Buzz off!” yelled Princess Fusspot from within.

Anton could hear the nurse offer to open the door to see who was there.

“Nobody asked you to interfere,” exclaimed Princess Fusspot, “In fact you can buzz off too. You’re fired.” (You see: told you). “Pack your things and clear off.” In fact the nursemaid was already packed. She had remained employed as Princess Fusspot’s nursemaid for over six hours which was much longer than she had thought she was going to last.

Anton knocked again but this time he opened the door as he did so. On entering, he saw Princess Fusspot reclining inside a gigantic sculpted swan that was suspended from the high ceiling. She was about eight foot off the ground. The swan was laden with brushed silks, velvet cushions filled with hummingbird feathers, cashmere, crushed satin shawls, petals gathered in the gentle evening light, and other things of incredible softness.

When she saw Anton, Princess Fusspot said:

“Oh. It’s you. How boring.” And to make her point she yawned without raising her hand to her mouth.

Princess Fusspot’s most distinguishing feature was her lovely curly brown hair. At least it was lovely and curly most of the time because, if it got wet, it became terrifically frizzy. The lightest drizzle in the air was enough and BOING! her hair would transform into a huge, frizzy ball. That was why the Royal Architect had had to construct an enormous see-through tent to cover the entire Castle…and most of the garden (which was not small).

She was not short and she was not tall but that wasn’t important because she had herself carried everywhere at a height a fair bit higher than everyone else.

The thing that set her apart from almost all other princesses was that she didn’t like the colour pink. She would never wear pink. Nothing was allowed to be painted or coloured pink. Nobody else was allowed to wear pink, not even visitors, not even flamingos. Anyone who broke this rule could either accept five years in one of the dungeons or they could eat one whole fruit cake made by the old crone who lived at the edge of the forest. The old crone was probably a witch but that hadn’t helped her cooking and her fruit cake was absolutely disgusting.

Princess Fusspot gave Anton a look which seemed to suggest that he too was absolutely disgusting.

“Got me a suitable horse?”

Anton had heard this question every day for a number of years now and it was a question he had come to rather dislike. However, today he didn’t mind being asked it all. In fact, he had been rather looking forward to it.

“Yes, your Royal Highness,” he replied, “I believe I have.”

“Yeah, yeah. Another completely hopeless nag I expect,” she said dismissively, “Oh, and by the way, I need a new nursemaid. I don’t suppose you could get me a decent one of those either.”

“It will give me great pleasure, your highness,” answered Anton, “to try.”

“Pah! She’ll be completely hopeless. They always are.”

She looked at Anton more closely.

“Oh my god. What are you wearing? Purple next to green! How very, very awful. So yuk.”

Anton was wearing a rather boring black outfit of grey trousers, dark grey waistcoat, and a black coat with tails but he was also, it is true, wearing a loud sash across his chest which had a stripe of green alongside a stripe of purple. On this was pinned a large complicated emblem with a unicorn and a flying lion made with shining gold.

“AND you’ve put gold with it! Horrendous Taste Alert!” she turned a small camera that had been hidden from view so that it pointed straight at Anton.

“Look, my gorgeous followers, look at this hideous colour disaster. You will all remember me talking about which colour goes with which colour and all those colours that absolutely, absolutely DO NOT go together…”

Princess Fusspot was almost always Vlogging and Influencing in one way or another. Being a princess, she had squillions of followers and being a Fusspot she had even more squillions of things to say…about anything she was fussy about…which was pretty much everything.

“Your highness” said Anton, extremely patiently, “This is the Order of William the Bold.” Anton pointed at his sash. “The founder of our great country. These are his colours and today is William the Bold Day.”

“Cor,” remarked Princess Fusspot, “He really must have been bold if he dared go out in those awful colours. Completely hopeless! But he was from the olden days and they were all completely hopeless in the olden days.”

Anton sighed.

“Your highness. Perhaps we should go and see the horse I have found for you. Today, I really think you shall be pleased.”

“Not very likely.” she replied and, turning the camera on herself, she continued:

“Right, my lovely people, I have to go now. Duty calls. Duty is sooo boring but when you’re a princess you have to do all these things that other people want you to do. You can’t think about yourself, ever. So, I have to go and see another horse they’ve got for me and I’ll have to explain why it’s no good – because they never are. Because everyone is so completely hopeless.” And she sighed: “Hopeless, hopeless, completely hopeless. But, well, what can one do?”

Some time later, Princess Fusspot was on the huge, deep, and very comfortable sofa that she was always carried about on and was being carried aloft down one of the long corridors running through the Castle palace.

There had been a bit of a delay when Princess Fusspot had yelled out “Aaahrgh! I’m on the most massive slope. Are you trying to kill me?” The sofa was always carried about by four Very Strong Men – the sort of men who can, if they choose to do so, balance a small elephant on the palm of their hand – who were exactly (to the million millionth of a millimetre) the same height. It turned out that, on that particular day, one of them was wearing socks that were very slightly thicker than the socks that the other three were wearing. So he was, therefore, as a result, very, very slightly taller than the other three – by about a hair’s breadth. Most people… actually everybody on the entire planet apart from Princess Fusspot…wouldn’t have noticed the difference. But she did.

The Very Strong Men had all taken off their socks and they had been able to continue with the sofa now absolutely and totally level. They had left the Royal State Nursery Apartments and as we said before we interrupted ourselves they were going through the long corridors running through the Castle.

At least they were before Princess Fusspot shouted “STOP!”

She pointed at the rows of pictures running down the corridor.

“These pictures are not at the same height. I can’t stand it when pictures are not at the same height.”

Needless to say, no one else could see that they weren’t at the same height. Anton waved a large red book at Princess Fusspot.

“I’m writing that down, your highness. It’ll be taken care of.”

And he turned sharply around, walked on, and beckoned to the Very Strong Men to follow him.

There had been a time when a problem like the pictures not being the same height would have had to have been dealt with there and then. Anton could remember several days when he and Princess Fusspot had not managed to get half way through the Castle palace because she had found fault with so many things. On those days, they’d been intending to go outside and they’d never even got to the front door.

But finally he had persuaded Princess Fusspot that this was a huge waste of her valuable time. He invented the red book in which he could write down everything that needed to be put right. And sometimes some of those things were put right.

So today they did get outside. The first thing they saw were hundreds and hundreds of gardeners watering flowers. Because the problem of putting a tent over a Castle and its garden is that the rain not only doesn’t fall on the head of a princess, it also doesn’t fall on the heads of any of the flowers.

“I’m not at all sure about the smell of those flowers” said Princess Fusspot doubtfully. Doubtfully but quite loudly.

Hundreds of pairs of eyes – these belonged to the gardeners – turned in her direction and none of them looked at her happily. In fact, most of them looked at her unhappily. Some even looked at her in a rather annoyed way. The reason why they, the gardeners, were not particularly happy was because they had already completely replanted the flower beds four times in the last few weeks. Princess Fusspot had decided first that the flowers had not been planted in straight enough lines, then that the lines had been too straight, then that the colours didn’t match, then that the flowers were too far apart…and now she was not liking the smell!

However, Anton quickly signalled to the Very Strong Men and they, understanding the problem, began to hurry up and the sofa began to speed across the lawns and paths that led across the gardens in the direction of the Royal Stables. Soon, in fact, they were moving pretty fast. Princess Fusspot’s lovely curly hair streamed behind her and she looked as if, very possibly, she was enjoying herself.

Sometimes it was a good idea to get Princess Fusspot moving around quickly because, that way, she didn’t have the time to be fussy about things but you had to be careful because, if you weren’t, she might have a lot more time later on to be even fussier.

On this occasion, Anton didn’t worry too much because he wanted to get Princess Fusspot to the stables as quickly as possible because he was pretty sure that when she got there it would take her mind off most things including being fussy.

The Royal Stables was a huge building shaped like a big square with an enormous courtyard in the middle and a big clock-tower at one end. The courtyard had four large lawns at each corner and in the middle there was a big oval of sandy earth surrounded by elegant fencing.

Inside this oval was a horse and when she saw that horse – and she saw her immediately because this horse looked so absolutely amazing that she gobbled up all of your eyesight – Princess Fusspot said

“Oh.”

She said oh quite softly but her mouth stayed shaped like an O and her eyes stayed shaped like O’s and her mind went as blank as an O.

People who know a lot about horses say that white horses should always be called greys but, unfortunately, in this case, with this horse, they would be quite, quite wrong. His coat was so white that it would have been ridiculous to call him a grey. The purest, most recently fallen snow on the highest, remotest mountain top is not as white as his coat. His mane and his tail looked as if they were made of rough silk, not quite as white but richer. His mane in particular was magnificent and looked as if the especially rich and creamy white surf of a deep, warm sea had been transformed into soft hair.

The shape of his head made anyone who saw it think he must himself be descended from the Kings and Queens of Horses and as he trotted around, he sprang upwards so easily and came back down to earth so slowly that most people thought he must be able to float on the air.

The spell he put on Princess Fusspot lasted at least two minutes which for her to be spellbound by anything was an extremely long time. As soon as it faded, she shouted out:

“Take me closer. Closer. Quickly” And then, having got close, “Put me down. Down. Quickly.”

[A passing duchess fainted and a Colonel in the Army tripped over his own sword. Neither of them had ever seen Princess Fusspot on the ground.]

She stared enraptured at the horse.

“This is Julius, your highness,” announced Anton, very pleased with himself.

Princess Fusspot walked toward the horse as if she was in a trance and stopped, her mouth open wider than a princess’ mouth ought to be.

“I don’t know if I mentioned it,” said Anton quite casually as he came to stand beside her and look over the fencing, “But he can talk.”

“Talk!” said Princess Fusspot in amazement and wonder, quite forgetting herself – she prided herself on playing it cool and aloof – “He can talk?”

And if the truth be told she was secretly impressed. Although she wasn’t usually interested in ‘details’ (which were boooring!) she did know that talking horses were pretty hard to come by. In fact, very, very hard to come by.

She turned to Anton and looked at him quite kindly for a change:

“And he’s mine?”

“Indeed, your highness,” said Anton equally kindly, “He is, as you say, yours.”

She turned back to look at the horse joyfully. The horse stopped trotting around and came over to where they were standing.

She looked the horse up and down and whilst she was doing so, she realised that the horse, quite slowly and methodically was doing the same to her.

She found that very strange. She didn’t, as a rule, get looked up and down.

So, she looked at the horse. And the horse looked at her. Then the horse took a step back and he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t think she’ll do at all” said the horse haughtily, “She’s far too short for me. And that dress is terribly last season.”

“WHAT?!?!” said Princess Fusspot.

“She’s not at all up to the sort of standard I require,” continued the horse. He came forward a little, looked again, and turning to Anton he asked very doubtfully.

“Are you quite sure she’s a princess?”

CHAPTER 2

A Lady-in-Waiting and a Witch

You may not know this because not many people do – unless they actually live in a Castle of course – but there is such a thing as the mood of a Castle. True, a Castle is usually a huge place with hundreds of rooms across lots of floors, inside towers and turrets, battlements and keeps, all connected by lots of corridors and staircases, with lots of cellars, dungeons and outbuildings. Also, Castles have hundreds of different types of people in them: from royals, nobles and knights to squires, scribes, and sometimes magicians, to cooks, coachmen, footmen, nursemaids, etc., etc. and several more etceteras. So, it will probably surprise you to hear that, putting all of those things and all of those people together, a Castle can still have a mood of its own. But it can.

When Princess Fusspot’s horse arrived at the Castle, the mood of the Castle became Quite Good. This was because the search for the ideal horse for Princess Fusspot had been going on for years and everyone had grown very tired of it. Now that it looked like the search was over, everybody was pretty happy.

Next the mood of the Castle went to Very Good. This was because word went round the Castle that Princess Fusspot wasn’t being particularly fussy anymore (we’ll tell you all about that in a moment) and, to be honest, there was a fair bit of rejoicing. This included:

-people jumping up and down

-people hugging

-dogs barking

-a bit of singing

-and huge amounts of smiling (except for the doctor who was rushed off his feet treating severe Smiley-Mouthache).

Next the mood of the Castle went to Quite Bad. This was because it soon became known round the Castle that Julius was just as fussy as Princess Fusspot.

To give you just a few examples: his apples had to come from one particular orchard seventy miles away and they had to be peeled, cored, and cut into the shape of a fruit tree (which is not easy to do); his coat had to be brushed, head to hoof, with a brush made of finest silver, twenty times a day whilst the people brushing had to sing songs that were very difficult songs to sing perfectly (and if they got the song wrong, they had to start all over again); and the straw that was used for his bed had to be hand softened, fresh every day, by almost everybody in the Castle kneading the straw in tubs of fabric softener and then washing them in perfume (which took a long time and was pretty smelly).

Finally, the mood of the Castle went to Very Bad. This was because it slowly became known (all around the huge Castle) that the horse was even more fussy than Princess Fusspot.

To give you just a few examples: the water that he drunk had to be collected in crystal bowls from a mountain stream that could only be reached by climbing up a very high cliff (and climbing up cliffs carrying crystal bowls is only slightly less difficult than climbing down cliffs carrying crystal bowls full of water you don’t want to spill); he didn’t like eating weeds or flowers but he did like eating grass, lots and lots of it, and so everybody in the Castle found themselves set to weeding (except that he didn’t want the grass trampled down which meant that everybody had to be suspended on dozens and dozens of ropes over all of the many pastures whilst they plucked the weeds and flowers from out of the grass with tweezers); he also didn’t like the east wind or the west wind and he hated the north wind so everybody who wasn’t weeding had to start trying to fan the wind back to where it came from (unless there was a south wind, which there wasn’t at that time.)

And all that was just in the first few hours after he’d arrived at the Castle! They did what they were told because a) they were used to doing what they were told (people are in a royal Castle) and b) because they were all quite frightened of Julius’s temper.

* * * * * *

Princess Fusspot had been speechless when the horse had criticised her. Nobody had ever, ever been fussy about her in any way (and, after all, a horse, especially a talking one, was a kind of a somebody) and she just didn’t know what to do. So, as a result, she hadn’t done anything and she hadn’t said anything. She just stood there.

Anton had thought it best that the Very Strong Men carry her back to the Castle and back to her rooms. So Princess Fusspot had gone back quietly and thoughtfully and whilst she was being carried back to the Castle, she hadn’t really seen anything either. She had a kind of a blank look.

Anton had shot quite a look at Julius but the horse hadn’t noticed because it was instructing one of the stable boys to take his hands out of his pockets unless he wanted to get fired.

Anton was very annoyed. The triumph of finding the perfect horse for Princess Fusspot had gone very wrong. But even though he was very annoyed – possibly even a little bit angry – he also found himself getting a bit worried. He didn’t like the way Princess Fusspot was behaving: quiet, thoughtful, and a bit blank. That was not like her at all. In fact it was about as unlike her as it was possible to be. She really didn’t do quiet or thoughtful very often, and blank she never did.

When they got back to the Royal State Nursery Apartments, instead of climbing straight from the sofa into the swan as she normally did, Princess Fusspot said very softly:

“Put me down please.”

Then she slid off the sofa and walked slowly over to a window seat, curled up on it and began to stare out of the window.

Even the Very Strong Men looked a bit bewildered – and not just because they hadn’t heard Princess Fusspot say please before – and they stood around shuffling their feet and looking concerned until Anton whispered to them to go.

“Your highness,” said Anton, “I shall of course get rid of the horse immediately”.

There was a silence while Anton’s words made their way through Princess Fusspot’s ears, which hadn’t really been listening properly, and on into her thoughts where, with a bit of waving and jumping about, they made themselves known.

“But why?” she asked as softly as ever and still looking out of the window. “I like the horse. It’s just that the horse doesn’t like me.”

“Oh no, your highness, I’m sure that can’t be true,” protested Anton, “I expect the horse was just tired, er, he’d had a long journey getting here, and he was a bit upset, perhaps, in a new place, unfamiliar people…”

But, this time, Anton’s words found the doors to Princess Fusspot’s ears were shut. She just wasn’t listening. Instead she was thinking. Even princesses find it hard to think and listen at the same time.

So Anton thought it wise to let her be. He left the apartments and closed the door quietly behind him. He thought he probably ought to find a new nursemaid but then something told him that the time for nursemaids had suddenly ended. It was time for a Lady-in-Waiting. He would try to find a very kind Lady-in-Waiting.

Princess Fusspot looked out of the window but she didn’t really see very much because she was thinking of the horse. You see, she had been longing for a horse of her own for so long. She had just wanted the perfect horse and the perfect horse had come along and, well…not to put too fine a point on it, it had been love at first sight. For Princess Fusspot that it is.

One of the biggest problems about being a princess in a Castle is that it’s quite hard to make friends. You grow up with a nursemaid, you have a private tutor, your meals are cooked by your own chef and served to you in your state apartments, you’re surrounded by soldiers, servants, courtiers and so on and so forth but you don’t really actually get to meet anybody. At least not as friends. Of course, if you have yourself carried about on a sofa, and you’re extremely fussy and you tend to be just that little bit bossy, well, that makes it quite a bit harder to make any friends.

Princess Fusspot had lots of followers but she didn’t have any friends and that may have had something to do with why she had wanted a horse very badly indeed. Not just any horse of course, that wouldn’t have done at all. No, she had wanted the horse of her dreams and she had dreamed almost every night for years of one particular horse. For years she had looked at the horses that had been brought to her and they hadn’t been the horse that was in her dreams.

But today that horse had appeared.

So, she looked out of the window, thought about that horse, and sighed.

She stayed like that for the rest of the day. People came and knocked on her door. She didn’t tell them to ‘Buzz off!’ as she used to. She asked them if they would ‘Please. Leave me alone’.

When it was dark, she went to bed quietly and hoped she might dream of the horse and that in that dream the horse might like her.

Later on, a concerned Anton, who had been turned away from Princess Fusspot’s door five times by that ‘Please, leave me alone’, wrote to the King and Queen.

In the morning, Princess Fusspot’s Lady-in-Waiting knocked on the door. She was a tall girl with hair the colour of very ripe, golden wheat and soft, green jade eyes. There was silence from the other side so she knocked again. This time she realised that there wasn’t silence from the other side but a sound so faint that it was very nearly silent but just not quite. She knocked again and this time put her ear up against the wood of the door.

“Leave me alone, please’ said a very soft voice.

The Lady-in-Waiting thought about this for a moment. She told herself that, yes indeed, she was a Lady-in-Waiting and she could do her Waiting this side of the door just as well as she could Wait-About on the other side of the door. But then she asked herself if being a Lady-in-Waiting was just about Waiting. She had only been a Lady-in-Waiting for about half an hour – ever since Anton had asked her if she’d like to be one – and so she wasn’t absolutely certain how to answer her own question. However, she did think there must be more to it than just Waiting-About. What would be the point in having people simply Waiting-About, especially in a corridor. That would just be silly.

So, deciding to ignore the soft voice, she pushed the door open and went inside. Once inside, she saw a very small girl. Except that almost immediately she realised that it was not really a very small girl, it was a very large room and the girl was a bit of a way off and everybody, even quite large people, look small if they are a bit of a way off in a very large room. Also, the girl looked sad and lonely which always makes people look smaller than they really are.

She had never seen the princess before but, being pretty intelligent, the Lady-in-Waiting decided this must be her. For one thing, she was the only person in the Royal State Nursery Apartments, which was a good clue, and for another, despite what the horse had said, she really did look very obviously like a princess.

[We’re going to stop calling Princess Fusspot Princess Fusspot for the time being because, for one thing, she isn’t being particularly fussy at the moment – or even princessy for that matter – and, for another, she’s sad and it seems rather mean to be talking about her like that behind her back.]

The Lady-in-Waiting went straight over to where the princess was seated in a chair that was much too big for her and she said brightly:

“Good morning! What a lovely day!”

The princess looked to where the Lady-in-Waiting was pointing (i.e. outside). She hadn’t noticed that it was a lovely day with blue skies, a shining sun, and all the other things that lovely days have, and now that she had had her attention drawn to it, she wasn’t sure she cared very much that it was a lovely day.

She looked back at this person who had come along to tell her about the weather and she said:

“Who are you?”

“I’m Orianna,” said the Lady-in-Waiting, “I’m your Lady-in-Waiting.”

The princess thought about this answer and she felt sure there was a problem with it.

“I don’t have a Lady-in-Waiting,” she replied.

“You didn’t have a Lady-in-Waiting. But you do now,” Orianna corrected her, “Your Major Domo made me your Lady-in-Waiting this morning.”

“Oh,” said the princess and she looked at Orianna, “How old are you?”

“I’m about fifteen,” replied Orianna, “Give or take.”

“You mean you don’t know?” enquired the Princess.

“Not exactly. My mother doesn’t really do time.”

The princess looked at Orianna some more and she was struck by something else.

“You’re very beautiful”.

“Thanks,” said Orianna, “But, between you and me, I had a bit of help.” and she winked.

Nobody had winked at the princess before and so she wasn’t quite sure what it meant.

“You’ve had plastic surgery?”

“Plastic surgery! At my age. No way. No, you see, my mother’s Griselda.”

“Griselda? Who’s that?”

Orianna sighed.

“Everyone around here seems to know her as ‘the old crone who lives at the edge of the forest’ but obviously I don’t really like that way of talking about my mother.”

“No. Sorry. Of course not…but how did she help?”

“Easy, you see, a little spell here,” Orianna pointed to herself, “and a little spell here, and another here…”

“Witchcraft!?”

“Magic. She prefers to call it magic.”

“Oh.”

There was a bit of a silence at this point because Orianna hadn’t the faintest idea what to do as a Lady-in-Waiting and the princess hadn’t the faintest idea what she was supposed to do with a Lady-in-Waiting.

Finally, Orianna asked the princess:

“What shall I call you? I don’t actually know your name.”

“My name?” said the princess, surprised, “Well, no, I don’t really have a name. Not one that people use. Everyone calls me ‘Your Royal Highness'”

“Do you like being called ‘Your Royal Highness?”

The princess thought about this for a moment.

“I don’t know,” she said, even more surprised. She felt sure that the day before and for most of her life she would have said, yes, she definitely did like it. But now…now she wasn’t so sure. After all, it wasn’t a name. Not a proper, nice-to-be-called name.

“I don’t think I’d like to be called that” said Orianna. “Besides, I don’t think I can call you ‘Your Royal Highness’. Isn’t there something you’d rather be called. I mean your own name or something.”

The princess thought about her name and she thought that she really couldn’t ask anyone to call her that: it would always take much too long. Then she remembered something.

“I did think once about shortening my first name to Elinia.”

“Princess Elinia.” exclaimed Orianna. “I think that’s nice. Yes, if that’s alright with you, I’ll call you Princess Elinia.”

The princess looked at Orianna. And for the first time in her life she looked at someone quite shyly.

“You don’t have to call me Princess,” she said.

“Elinia, then.” said Orianna happily. “I’ll call you Elinia.”

“And I will call you Orianna.”

Now Anton had told Orianna – amongst a few other things – that some of the people who had been turned away from Elinia’s door yesterday evening and again that morning had been various people from the kitchen. These included the supper chef, the breakfast chef, the assistant supper chef, the assistant breakfast chef, six waiters, two drinks pourers, two teacup holders, a bread spreader, a marmalade or jam spreader, a sugar adder, a salt…well, as you can see, a lot of people from the kitchens. All of them had been politely asked by Elinia if they would please leave her alone.

So Orianna, remembering this and thinking quite cleverly about it, said:

“I’m starving. I didn’t have time for any breakfast today. Have you got anything to eat?”

“No. I’m sorry, I haven’t. I didn’t have any breakfast either,” replied Elinia, “But I’m really not very hungry.”

Orianna realised she hadn’t thought quite cleverly enough. So she thought a bit more and then asked Elinia:

“What’s your favourite food? What would you most like to eat if you could have anything you wanted?”

Elinia looked at her in surprise.

“But I always can have anything I want.”

“So, what’s your favourite then?”

“Well. Let’s see…I do like pizza of course, with lots of cheese, and spaghetti bolognese…salmon fishcakes I like…roast chicken, most Sunday roasts actually, I really like some salads, er, Chow Mein…chocolate ice cream obviously. I don’t know. I like lots of things. I’m not sure I really have a favourite.”

“Oh, I do” said Orianna, “I like crispy duck with pancakes to start with, followed by barbecued chicken fajitas with guacamole and tortillas, Greek salad, maybe some fish and chips if I’m still hungry, but also meringue with strawberries, raspberries, vanilla ice cream, all washed down with a jug of peach and blueberry smoothie.”

When she’d finished describing this feast she paused and then looked at Elinia.

“Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

“Not really…” replied Elinia but as she was saying it a tiny grumble interrupted her. This grumble came from her stomach which had been listening to all this talk about food and had been comparing all that delicious food with its own very empty self. Because as far as her stomach was concerned, the cupboard was extremely bare. And just to remind Elinia that things were not as they should be, the stomach asked the mouth to water slightly.

“Come to think of it,” Elinia corrected herself, her mouth watering, “you know, I think I am a bit hungry.”

Before too long, after a call had been put through to the kitchens on the direct line, the Mid-Morning Snack Chef knocked on the door and, when Orianna had opened the door to him, he entered, followed by the Royal Bearers of Especially Yummy Things. These were, obviously, carrying an assortment of deliciously tasty tit-bits; including quite small portions of all the foods they had just been talking about.

A few moments later, Anton put his head round the door.

“I followed the wonderful smells drifting through the Castle,” he said smiling, “all the way down to my study. Would you mind if I join you? It’s made me feel very peckish.”

“Of course not” said Elinia who, after having thought about it over the last day, realised that Anton wasn’t so bad after all. In fact, he seemed to spend more time looking after her and trying to do the best for her than anyone else.

For quite a while, after the food had all been served and everyone from the kitchens had left, there was a deep silence filled only with the sound of munching – and munching only makes a silence sound deeper, if not as quiet. However, eventually, as the three of them, Elinia, Orianna, and Anton, began to fill up and, as their stomachs began to feel happier, they started to chatter away between mouthfuls. As their stomachs felt happier, they began to feel happier, and if you feel happy, quite often it makes you chatter away.

But, as everybody knows, it is possible to feel happy and sad at the same time. As a rule, happiness and sadness don’t have very much to do with each other: they stay apart, on opposite sides of the room as it were. That’s why, if you feel happy and sad at the same time, they don’t mix, they don’t cancel each other out, and you don’t end up feeling not very much at all. And that is why you can forget about your sadness for a time and just be happy instead.

Unfortunately, sadness is quite demanding and it really doesn’t like to be ignored for too long. So, if you pay too much attention to your happiness, eventually the sadness will come along, tug at your sleeve, and say “Oi, what about me?’

That is what happened to Elinia: she was having a lovely time, enjoying the food and the company in a way that she never had before and, therefore, her sadness decided enough was enough and now it was its turn.

The others realised that Elinia hadn’t been talking for a few minutes and that she had gone back to looking out of the window again, at least looking in the general direction of the window.

Orianna, using only her eyes, suggested to Anton that he find an excuse to go elsewhere and leave her alone with Elinia. Since she had very expressive eyes, Anton took the hint.

“Right. That’s enough playing truant for me. I have to get back to work.”

“Oh, ok,” said Elinia vaguely, barely noticing his departure.

“So, I think,” said Orianna, leaning forward and tapping Elinia on the knee with her finger, “that you should tell me what the matter is.”

Elinia thought about saying that she was fine and that nothing was the matter but she looked at Orianna and it seemed to her that the girl in front of her did actually want to know what was wrong with her. At the same time, she also realised that she wanted to tell her what was wrong with her. People say that a problem shared is a problem halved but it’s also true that a problem kept to yourself is often doubled, sometimes quadrupled.

So Elinia told Orianna about having always longed for a horse and about how, a few years ago, she had started to be visited in her dreams by this wonderful horse with its pure white coat and a mane made of ropes of whipped cream. She told her how she hadn’t been able to get this horse out of her head when she woke each morning and how every day horses had been brought for her to look at but that every day the image of the horse of her dreams was still in her eyes and these other horses weren’t anything like her horse.

“Of course, it’s true,” she admitted, “I was very fussy. I was fussy and picky about everything but not about this. Not about my horse – which was in my dreams for a reason. I was just waiting for him to come to me. That’s all.”

Elinia then told Orianna about the horse that had arrived the day before. Although Orianna already knew about the horse that had arrived the day before. Everybody in the Castle knew about that horse.

“So, you see,” she said to Orianna sadly, “I’d waited for years for the horse from my dreams to find me and when he did, he didn’t want me. I suppose it’s silly really but I feel completely hopeless.”

“I don’t think that’s silly at all,” said Orianna. “Look, I’ve an idea. Can you get out of the Castle? I mean are you allowed to on your own?”

“I’ve no idea,” Elinia answered her a little surprised, “I haven’t ever tried. I think people would want to know where I was going. They’d probably insist on coming with me. Why?”

“I think we should go and see my mother. She’s brilliant at this sort of thing. She’ll think of a way of putting things right. She always does. Well, usually anyway. But she won’t want lots of people turning up. It’ll be ok if you turn up with me but not with lots of other strangers. She’s pretty private, you know.”

“Are you sure? Nobody from the Castle goes to that part of the forest. They all say they’re too scared to.”

“Yes, that’s the whole idea,” replied Orianna smiling. “But don’t worry, you’ll be with me. Perfectly safe. Now, how are we going to smuggle you out of the Castle?”

Elinia thought for a moment and then she exclaimed:

“My dressing up box. I’ve got a huge dressing up box with tons of stuff in it. I love dressing up but I’ve always had to dress up for no reason – except for the annual fancy dress ball, of course. I’ll disguise myself.”

“Hmm,” said Orianna. “Your hair’s going to be the problem. It is pretty obvious and very recognisable. But let’s see what we can do.”

A while later, Orianna had used several dozen hair clips and a bathing cap to conceal Elinia’s hair. She then put a jet black wig over this in the style of a page boy. Elinia then got dressed in a page boy’s uniform that she had in her dressing up box.

A little bit later still and the two of them were walking quite brazenly through the Castle palace corridors. They passed quite a few people but none of them looked twice at Elinia. Something that worked in her favour was the fact that she had never before walked through the corridors. Everybody was used to seeing their royal princess up there, being carried about on a sofa, not down there, walking about like ordinary people. They walked through the whole Castle and outside without anyone challenging them.

Once outside, there was no chance of them being noticed because everybody was far too busy doing things for Julius. Almost the whole Castle was bustling around doing chores for the horse and people were darting and rushing about all over the place.

In the space of a day, most of the people in the Castle had almost forgotten about Elinia. Not really forgotten you understand but she had been pushed out of their minds by Julius. In fact, quite a few of them now called Julius Lord Fusspot. One person had called him that and within a few hours almost everybody had started calling Julius Lord Fusspot.

And just at that moment someone shouted out:

“Who’s got the rose water for Lord Fusspot’s rub down?”

Elinia nudged Orianna in the side and whispered:

“Lord Fusspot! That’s hysterical. What a brilliant name. I love it”

“Yes, it is a good name, isn’t it?” said Orianna not looking her in the eye.

Having made it safely without being recognised through the gardens, they did get caught out by the brand new sprinkler system that had been installed in the surrounding fields and paddocks overnight on the orders of Julius. This was put in so that the grass would grow even thicker, greener, and more delicious than before. It would, of course, make the flowers and weeds grow thicker and stronger than before so not everyone was pleased.

The timer system clicked on just as Elinia and Orianna were passing by and the jets of water completely soaked them. Almost immediately, Elinia’s hair went BOING! as it frizzed up into a giant ball. The page boy wig shot up into the air, followed by a bathing cap and a shower of dozens of hair clips. Fortunately, they were out of sight by then so nobody saw. Fortunately too, it was a lovely sunny day and so they soon dried off as they walked along.

It wasn’t too far to the forest but, on the other hand, it wasn’t too near either and they were both starting to get a little tired by the time they climbed up the shallow rise of a small hill from the top of which they were able to see the forest laid out below them. All they could see were the tops of millions of trees all jammed together and stretching out to the far horizon. The forest was so thick that it almost looked solid, as if you could walk across the top of its vast, rough surface: miles of unkempt, lumpy, shaggy green waves. Where it was possible to see a gap, it was completely black – so dark, the light couldn’t force its way inside.

Elinia was surprised to see that one small part of the forest at its edge was covered by a patch of thick shadow. She looked up into the sky but there wasn’t a single cloud in it: just a clear blue sky with the sun shining brightly.

“What’s that?” Elinia asked Orianna, pointing at the area covered by shade.

“That’s home. My home.” Orianna replied. “As I told you, my mother doesn’t like visitors. You’ll see.”

They walked down the hill toward the patch of shaded forest. As we’ve said, it was a lovely, warm, sunny day but, as soon as they got to the edge of the forest, it started to get cold and Elinia could see a trickle of mist leaking out from inside the forest. As they walked into the forest it became really quite chilly and the mist got thicker. At the same time, the trees were so close together that it started to get dark and the branches of the trees began to get in their way. There were also hanging tresses of green stuff that Elinia couldn’t identify all mixed in with cobwebs. Unseen animals made sounds that Elinia had never heard before. Soon a huge crow appeared above them, hopping and darting from branch to branch cawing and rasping at them in a way that seemed to say “Buzz off!”. Elinia was slightly relieved when Orianna shouted back “Buzz off yourself, Hugo! Stupid bird.”

Nevertheless, she was very glad she was with Orianna because, quite frankly, the forest that they were going through could only be described with two words: the first word being ‘very’ and the second ‘scary’.

Finally, after quite a bit of tripping, stumbling, and struggling through things, and a fair bit of panting and grunting, they arrived in a gloomy clearing in which stood a large cottage. The most peculiar thing about this cottage was that, although it stood in the middle of a gloomy clearing under a thick, impenetrable canopy of trees, it was bathed in warm sunlight and was covered in colourful, healthy looking climbing roses. In fact it had a rather pleasant little garden all round it. Another peculiar thing was that as soon as the crow that had been following them flew into the sunlight that came from nowhere, it turned into a chirpy little robin and went and perched on a bird table standing in the garden where it chirped merrily – and soon after that it started chirruping (which is not at all the same).

The door of the cottage flew open and out strode a very jolly looking woman smiling broadly. She waved happily at Orianna and Elinia. However, as she came closer she walked briskly into the shade and immediately changed. Now, walking toward them more slowly, was a much older woman, bent over, with grey skin, straggly hair and a long nose covered with warts.

“Ah, Orianna, how lovely to see you,” she cackled unpleasantly from a mouth containing just one sharp tooth, “And who do we have here?”

“This is Princess Elinia from the Castle, mother,” replied Orianna, as they walked toward the cottage “We need your help with something.”

“Aah, the princess, of course it is,” said the old crone peering at Elinia in a most horrid way but, as she did so, as they walked back toward the cottage, they all passed into the sunshine and the face peering at Elinia became kindly, rosy-cheeked, and twinkly-eyed.

“Come inside. You must both be hungry. It’s quite a walk from the Castle.”

They followed Orianna’s mother into the cottage. Inside, they passed through a small hallway crammed with coats, hooded capes, boots, scarves umbrellas, broomsticks, and all those sorts of things. Then they went into a small but very cosy sitting room with a low ceiling supported by very old, dark beams. The room was bright and cheery with a huge sofa and several deep and comfortable-looking armchairs.

“Sit down, sit down,” said Orianna’s mother, “Sit anywhere you like.”

Elinia climbed into one of the armchairs and immediately sank into its deep softness. She looked around the room and noticed that the furniture was all made of old, chestnut-coloured wood that looked as if it had been polished for hundreds of years. There were narrow bookcases all stuffed to overflowing with leather books and, between them, were portrait pictures that were so dark with age that it was impossible to see who was in them. There was also a large and deep brick fireplace. The fire was not lit but over the place where it would have burned, there hung a large copper cauldron.

Orianna’s mother disappeared for a moment and when she came back she was carrying a tray. On it was a jug filled with a dark red orange juice.

“If you’re thirsty, you must try this Blood Orange Juice. It was squeezed moments ago in the Southern Mediterranean. The oranges come from a tiny, secret grove and they are the most delicious fruit in the world.”

Elinia might well have wondered how the oranges could have been squeezed moments ago in the Southern Mediterranean (which was hundreds of miles away) if it weren’t for the fact that all of her attention was taken by the other object on the tray.

This was a large fruit cake. Everybody knew about the old crone’s…er, Griselda’s…er, Orianna’s mother’s fruit cake. It was totally disgusting. Really, really revolting. Lots of people preferred to spend five years in a dungeon rather than eat it. It was rumoured that if you ate as much as a mouthful, your stomach would flip upside down and then turn inside out before shrivelling up into a little ball the size of a walnut.

“Have some cake.” said Orianna’s mother.

Elinia realised she was talking to her and she started to feel a bit faint.

At that point Orianna burst out laughing.

“Mother, your cake does not have a good reputation,” she said and laughed some more. “Your face,” she added pointing at Elinia. “You look absolutely terrified.”

Orianna’s mother laughed too.

“Oh my goodness. Yes, yes, of course.”

She sat down herself and looked at Elinia smiling.

“I’d better explain,” she said. “You see, for various reasons, I keep a certain amount of magic simmering along here. Nothing much, just some spells here and there, a bit of light magic, good, natural magic of course, and so my cottage is filled and surrounded by a circle of enchantment. Except it works back to front. Inside the circle, things are as they are supposed to be. Outside the circle, they’re not so nice and they’re often quite off-putting, sometimes they’re even rather nasty…except for Orianna, of course, but then she is exceptional: she remains the same whether she’s inside the circle or out. But, otherwise, the circle keeps people away. Which is how I like it.”

She turned round and cut herself a slice of cake.

“Take this cake for instance. If you took this cake away, out of the circle of enchantment, it wouldn’t taste very good…well, worse than that. But here…” She took a big bite. “Ist ambsorutery dericious.”

It took quite a while for Orianna and her mother to persuade Elinia to take even the smallest bite of the cake but when she did she just couldn’t believe her taste buds. It didn’t taste much like fruit cake: it tasted like all of the most delicious parts of all the most delicious cakes she’d ever eaten, and several cakes she’d never eaten, all blended into one even more delicious taste.

Elinia immediately asked for a whole slice and she ate it far faster than anyone, let alone a princess, should eat a whole piece of cake. Then she drank some of the blood orange juice and that was, of course, the most delicious drink she’d ever drunk and she positively guzzled it down.

When they’d had enough to eat and drink and when Elinia had got over her amazement at the whole experience, Orianna began to tell her mother why they had come. She described how Anton, the major Domo, had made her Princess Elinia’s Lady-in-Waiting and how she had found Elinia, that morning, rather sad and upset. At her prompting, Elinia then told Orianna’s mother about the horse of her dreams and how when that horse had come true, the horse hadn’t wanted anything to do with her. Then Orianna finished the story by telling her mother all about how the horse had been behaving, or misbehaving, since she’d arrived at the palace.

“So what do you think?” she asked her mother. “Can you help?”

“Help?” said Orianna’s mother scornfully, “With a little thing like that? What a silly question. Of course I can. But look, it’s too late now: it’ll be evening soon. Best you stay here tonight. We’ll have a good supper later on. Then a good night’s sleep. And, in the morning, we’ll get everything sorted out.

Later, after they had eaten, Griselda made an ornately carved, rare divan bed (from somewhere in the Atlas mountains) appear in Orianna’s bedroom for Elinia to sleep in. As soon as Elinia got into it, she felt utterly and completely comfortable. She looked around Orianna’s room from inside the bed while Orianna was still talking outside the door with her mother about this and that. She could see that there were dozens and dozens of crystals all around the room. Now and again she could see faint lights come into the crystals and then leave again. She wondered what they were and how they could come and go. She wondered about this for about seven or eight seconds and then fell fast asleep.

Elinia dreamed of being here and there; one moment she was somewhere and, the next moment, somewhere else: she was in a field wearing a large suit of armour, she was in a library using several long ropes to climb a bookcase mountain, she was in a zoo feeding mammoths Christmas pudding, then there were two of her but both of ‘her’ were a very long way apart from each other, and so on…and, as will be obvious to anyone who knows anything at all about dreams, these were all warnings that things were about to get complicated and probably very difficult. Which is true because things were, indeed, about to get complicated and decidedly difficult.

CHAPTER 3

Beware of sugar lumps

Just in case you don’t know what consternation means, it means a feeling of anxiety, dismay, dread, amazement, or confusion. The reason we’re telling you that is because that evening the Castle was bursting with consternation. There was consternation everywhere and everywhere you looked there was more consternation.

This is what happens in a Castle when the most important person who lives there simply disappears: everybody suddenly gets very anxious, dismayed, full of dread, amazed, and it’s all pretty confusing. However, just when everybody felt that the Castle was as full of consternation as it could possibly get, even more consternation came along.

All of which probably needs some explaining. Well, first of all, it was discovered that Princess Elinia was not in the Royal State Nursery Apartments. At this point, people became anxious and slightly amazed. Then it was discovered that nobody could find her anywhere else in the Castle. At that point, people became even more anxious, fully amazed, and quite dismayed. Finally, it was discovered that she was nowhere to be found outside of the palace or anywhere else anyone looked for her. She had vanished. Completely. By now, people were utterly consternated. Anton, as you might imagine, was probably the most worried of everyone (although, Julius was also quite worried because, suddenly, quite a few people weren’t doing what he wanted: they seemed to be bothering themselves about some other trifling affair.)

Then, just as it seemed there just couldn’t be any more consternation all in one place, all at the same time, The King and Queen arrived.

They arrived quite quietly for them: just a hundred riders of the Royal Castle Cavalry trotting along ahead of them and fourteen carriages in the baggage train behind. They remained in the royal carriage whilst the surprised Castle staff rushed around bumping into each other in panic. The emergency red carpet was rolled out in a hurry, a few trumpeters were found, and as quickly as possible a small crowd of servants was given flags and streamers to wave. That being done, the King and Queen were able to leave their carriage and walk slowly into the Castle palace along the red carpet and up the broad stone stairs that climbed toward the Great Front Door while the crowd cheered and the trumpeters blew their trumpets.

The King was a large man and he had very pale eyes and a large beard which made him look a little like a lion. A lion, that is, that had eaten a lot more chocolate cake than it should. The Queen on the other hand was quite slim and tall. She walked very upright with her head raised, so that she had to look over her nose to see where she was going. Even her cheekbones looked rather proud.

As they entered the vast Grand Hall, so did Anton…but much faster and much more out of breath. He had run all the way from his study which was about quarter of a mile of corridors away and he had run all that way in a new record time for the realm.

“Ah, Anton,” said the King on seeing him arrive, “slow down man. No need to be sprinting about like that. You’ll break your neck.”

“Sorry Your Majesty,” said Anton. “We weren’t expecting you…”

“Not expecting us?” exclaimed the King, “Of course you were. You wrote to us saying our daughter was down in the dumps, not a happy bunny. We’ve come at speed, deuce it.”

[The King used the word ‘deuce’ a lot and no, we don’t really know what it means either.]

He turned to the Queen:

“Couldn’t have come quicker, could we my dear, couldn’t have come quicker if we’d tried.”

“We certainly could not, my dear,” replied the Queen haughtily.

“Deuced fast. Nothing more important to us than our daughter. The apple of our eye, our, er…what’s her name, deuce it?”

” Ermelinianne Antoinettella, my dear,” replied the Queen.

“Yes, yes, of course. Deuced odd name though,” said the King, thinking about it.

There was a slight pause and, therefore, a slight silence which the King soon interrupted.

“Well, come on man!” he said to Anton, “Produce the girl. Bring us our daughter, deuce it, and we’ll find out what the matter is.”

Anton did not know how to answer this but, apart from the fact that he was very honest and hated lies, the missing daughter of a king was a missing princess and it would be pretty hard to pretend that a princess wasn’t missing.

“I’m afraid I can’t Your Majesty,’ said Anton. “I don’t know where she is.”

“Not entirely surprised,” said the King. “Big place my Castle. Easy to lose a small girl. Still, a bit late for her to be galavanting around, isn’t it? Looked for her, I suppose?”

“Yes we have, Your Majesty,” Anton informed the King, unable to keep the worry from his voice. “The entire Castle has been looking for her for hours. She’s not in the Castle. She’s not in the grounds. We don’t know where she is.”

“WHAT?!?!” said the Queen, who then immediately became inconsolable and much less upright.

“I am extremely sorry,” continued Anton, “but she appears to have vanished.”

“Deuce it, Anton,” said the King, “you’re my Major Domo. I don’t expect you to be losing my daughter. Bad show. Deuced bad show.”

The King watched his wife being led away by an assortment of Ladies-in Waiting. The Queen was in tears and had to be supported, almost carried, up the huge main staircase toward the Royal Apartments.

“Oh well,” said The King shrugging. “Not a great deal we can do at this hour. We’ll get a proper search going in the morning.”

And so saying, he followed the Queen up the staircase.

The following morning, almost as the sun started to rise above the horizon, the King left the Castle. He had not been able to sleep properly and he had decided to get up and go for a walk. The air was cold and the dew was still glistening on the grass but the early rays of the sun were just beginning to warm everything. He had no particular destination and in fact he paid hardly any attention to where he was going. Most of his mind was full of worry about where his daughter might be. He tried not to think about it but the possibility that she had been kidnapped kept appearing in his thoughts. There were rival kingdoms and there were brigands. These or someone else might have taken her. In the time that he spent thinking these dreadful thoughts, his legs, helped by his feet, had taken him, without him being at all aware of it, around to the back of the Royal Stables. His thoughts were disturbed by a voice speaking loudly:

“Just where is everybody this morning?” said the voice. “Good grief, yesterday evening was bad enough, but this morning…no water, no breakfast, no rubdown, no grooming…it’s disgraceful. The staff in this Castle are quite dreadful. They should all be fired.”

There was a pause. Followed by a snort.

“Oh it’s you. Princess…What was your name? I can’t remember.”

The faint sound of a voice.

“A sugar lump. Well, I don’t mind if I do…”

As soon as he heard the word ‘Princess’, the king had broken into a run, which wasn’t easy for him.

On the other side of the stables in the stable yard…no, before we carry on, perhaps we’d better go a little further back to get the story up to date.

Griselda, Orianna’s mother, had woken the two girls early and given them all a delicious breakfast of wondrous food and drink, all of which seemed to have come from far off lands in, apparently, no time at all.

After breakfast, she had taken Elinia into her sitting room and given her a sugar lump.

“If you give this lump of sugar to the horse, it will allow the horse to learn something about himself. What is true for people, is true for horses, especially if they can talk, and people who learn something about themselves become nicer people. It’s just a fact. And if your horse becomes nicer, he will be bound to grow fond of you. You are a nice person, princess, and nice people like nice people. It’s just a fact.”

She thought for a moment and added:

“It might take the horse a while to learn something about himself but, then, who knows? Just make sure you’re not touching him. Step back from him when you give him the lump of sugar…Now then, you don’t want to be trudging all the way back to the Castle. So, see you later…”

Orianna’s mother waved Elinia away with one hand and the next moment, a little bit giddy, Elinia, blinking, found herself standing in the main yard of the Royal Stables.

There was Julius standing there looking quite beautiful but grumbling away about something or other.

Elinia went over to the horse.

“Hello,” she said.

“Oh it’s you,” replied the horse. “Princess…what was your name? I can’t remember.”

“My name is Princess Ermelinianne Antoinettella. But you can call me Elinia if you like.” She held out her hand and showed the lump of sugar to Julius.

“A sugar lump. Well, I don’t mind if I do…”

The horse, nibbling with his lips, took the sugar lump. Elinia, unable to resist, reached up and stroked the nose of the horse. The horses chomped up the sugar lump and swallowed it. Elinia felt the velvet softness of his warm nose.

The king rounded the stables at the best speed his legs could manage and he arrived in the stable yard just in time to see his daughter talking to a horse. We say ‘just in time’ because, in that split second, both his daughter and the horse completely disappeared. Not even a puff of smoke was left behind. He had seen both of them and now he could see nothing but an empty stable yard.

“What?!?!” he said weakly.

Elsewhere, Julius said “WHAT?!?!” quite strongly.

There were several reasons why he had exclaimed “What?!?!” and these can be listed as follows:

a) He was no longer standing in the yard of the Royal Stables but instead he seemed to be on a cold, windy mountain with pockets of snow all around (and he was wearing a bridle with a bit for the first time in his life).

b) His magnificent white coat that was always kept so clean and well brushed was now streaked and filthy and he could feel the dirt matted in his hair.

c) A person had just spoken to him (in a tone which he was not at all accustomed to being spoken to in) and had said: “Move it!”

d) This instruction, which was shouted more than it was said, was followed, quite outrageously, by a slap on his hindquarters. Therefore he had exclaimed “What?!?!”

“Get that blasted horse and cart out of the way.” the voice had continued. “And what on earth is this child doing here?…Look out!”

At that moment, there was a blast of sound. This was a bellowing, screeching sound like a trumpet the size of a house being blown by a giant with an awful toothache.

The next thing Julius knew was that a man had grabbed his bridle and was yanking at it. He was too shocked to say anything (not that that would have been easy with a bit in his mouth). He bent his neck in the direction the man was pulling and immediately realised that he was attached to a heavy weight. He could hear cartwheels grinding behind him.

As he was pulled to one side, a huge elephant barged past, nearly crushing all of them. It was like being barged out of the way by a great, grey, wrinkled cliff. He saw Elinia being dragged by the arm by another man who was dressed very like the man who was pulling her. Both men were wearing pointed metal helmets from which sprouted a plume of coarse hair. They wore rough linen clothes over which one had a leather breastplate; the other, the one doing the shouting, a shiny brass breastplate. They also had large cloth capes but in the wind these were useless because they just billowed about, flapping like flags and revealing their bare knees.

There is something known as collecting your thoughts. This is something people need to do when their thoughts have been scattered. They do not, it is true, actually have to bend down and gather all their thoughts off the floor but it feels a bit like that. Both Elinia and Julius felt like that: they felt as if their minds had been whirled about until all their thoughts had been thrown out of their heads and scattered everywhere. For a while, their minds were more or less emptied of thoughts.

Slowly, however, a few thoughts started to come back. Elinia got her thoughts back into order a bit quicker than Julius, mainly because she wasn’t being dragged about by the head whilst pulling a cart. Also, she had seen an elephant before at the circus. She was extremely surprised to see an elephant but she didn’t think the elephant was a fierce monster that had just stepped out of a particularly terrifying nightmare. Julius, on the other hand, had not seen an elephant before and any thoughts he had just managed to collect were immediately scattered all over again – except this time they flew farther than before. He was completely shocked.

“Oi! Is this your horse?” shouted the shouty man who, Elinia realised, must be a soldier of some sort. She also realised, from various clues, that he hadn’t washed or cleaned his teeth, probably since he had been six years old.

Elinia looked at Julius who was still looking at the elephant moving away from them. Then she looked at the soldier and she replied:

“Yes. This is my horse.”

“Right, you – little girl. I don’t know what little girls are doing in this man’s army but little girls need to be looking where they’re going with their blasted horses. Right! Get that horse moving and get out of my sight…NOW!”

The other soldier with the leather breastplate said to Elinia:

“Come on love. Let’s get you up onto the cart.”

He picked up Elinia and plonked her on the front lip of the wooden, two-wheeled cart to which Julius was attached and passed her the reins.

“Alright,” he said fairly kindly, “I don’t know what you’re doing here or whose bright idea it was to allow children on this expedition but remember to keep the cart moving and try to keep an eye on what’s coming up behind you. Particularly elephants. They don’t stop for anything.”

Elinia flapped at the reins and said to Julius:

“Julius, please get going. We need to move forward. Come on, please.”

Julius had still not gathered his thoughts and he didn’t really hear what Elinia was saying to him. He just stared at his surroundings: at the thick grass that ruffled and waved in the wind and at the huge pale boulders that lay all about, often sheltering patches of bright, white snow. On either side, the ground rose, sloping upward gently like a high, shallow valley which rose toward steep walls of rock that rose up into the edges of the mountains. Above these were grey clouds being blown fast across a bright sky. The shadows and sunlight chased each other across the windblown grass.

Elinia urged Julius on but the horse wasn’t listening. She could see that they were in a mountain pass and that Julius and the cart had been dragged off the only path that wound its way through the mounds and boulders that were strewn about this valley-shaped landscape.

“Move forward, Julius, please.”

“Not now!” shouted the shouty soldier, “Don’t move forward now, you idiot.”

Elinia looked over her shoulder and she saw a very long column of hundreds and hundreds of soldiers had appeared around a bend fifty yards back and was just about to pass her by.

She took the opportunity to jump down off the cart and go and speak to Julius. She went round to stand in front of the horse and, reaching up, she cupped both her hands under Julius’s round jaw bones. She held his head like that and spoke soothingly to him:

“I can’t explain what’s going on. I don’t know where we are. But I think…”

At that moment, Julius, who had been staring vacantly at a particularly large patch of snow, looked at Elinia and focused his eyesight on the princess. This seemed to wake him up.

“I demand to know what’s going on!” he said, chomping his words through the metal bit, “I insist on an explanation. I will not be treated in this way. Mountains…snow…monsters…soldiers…shouting…slapping…”

“Shh!” said Elinia, placing a gentle hand over her mouth, “I really don’t think it’s a good idea for anyone to know you can talk.”

Julius tossed his head.

“What are you talking about. Why shouldn’t anyone know? What on earth is going on here?!”

“I don’t know. But until we do know, I just don’t think anyone should hear you talking…”

“Who are you talking to?” shouted the shouty soldier.

“I’m just trying to calm my horse. When he’s frightened, I talk to him.”

“I heard another voice” said the soldier suspiciously, not shouting for once.

“That was me,” Elinia answered him sweetly, “It’s my special voice for calming her down. My horsey voice.”

“Horsey voice?” said the soldier. “Talking to horses? Sounds like a load of nonsense to me. Still,” he added, “if you’ve got to talk to your horse, you can tell her that we’re all bloody hungry stuck up on this blasted mountain and none of us up here would turn down a delicious plate of horse sausages” and he went off laughing to himself.

“Don’t you mind him,” said the other soldier to Elinia, as he too began to walk on. “Nobody likes commander ruddy Bomlidar. Just keep your head down. Don’t attract his attention.”

When they were out of earshot – which wasn’t far in the wind – Elinia turned to Julius and said “See?”

Julius didn’t reply. He simply nodded. He didn’t at all like the idea of being turned into sausages and with what had happened in the last few minutes, he didn’t think it was at all impossible. Probably, even quite likely. So as the last marching men from the long column of soldiers passed by and as soon as Elinia had climbed back onto the cart, he leaned forward into the harness to which were attached the shafts of the cart and pulled it forward onto the rutted track. After that he plodded on muttering under his breath – for he was, of course, quite angry – but just not loud enough that anyone could hear.

Twice, they had to pull over as an elephant passed by. The first time it happened, Elinia had to explain that they weren’t dangerous monsters but were actually quite wondeful. Julius didn’t really believe her, but he was brave enough to ignore them from then on. Twice, also, they had to make way for long columns of marching soldiers and wait on the side of the track. However, as it turned out, they didn’t have to go all that far.

About an hour after they had started, the track headed up a slightly steeper hill until it reached the brow. When they got to the brow of that hill, they found themselves looking down over a large, uneven plateau. This plateau was covered with people, animals, carts, and tents, as well as smoking fires and flapping banners. There were tens of thousands of soldiers, thousands of horses, a few dozen elephants, and a handful of dogs scurrying about all over. A huge number of different tents in different colours had been put up and a great deal more were in the process of being put up. All over the place, little blue-white trails of smoke drifted upwards and spread into the air.

The sun was by now much lower in the sky and, in between the great billowing white clouds that sailed across the sky, broad shafts of sunlight spread across the camp in waves.

Elinia had been coming to a conclusion for about half an hour. At first it had seemed like the obvious conclusion but then she had thought how impossible that conclusion was. Then she had thought about how impossible it was to feed a horse a lump of sugar in one place, at home, one moment and find yourself somewhere else, in some strange mountains, the next moment. So, she began to suspect that the conclusion she had come to might possibly be the right conclusion.

As they stood looking down on the vast encampment of the army below, a straggler was passing by.

“Excuse me,” said Elinia, “but is that Hannibal’s tent over there?” She pointed in the general direction of the biggest tent with the most flags that stood roughly in the middle of the camp.

“Hannibal’s tent?” said the soldier, puffing and panting from having climbed the hill. “How the bleedin’ whatsit would I know? Nobody tells me anything. They certainly don’t tell me where General let’s-all-climb-over-the-Alps Hannibal puts his tent…”

The soldier, still talking, carried on walking down toward the camp: “Happy as you like, living in a lovely, warm country beside the seaside. Shall we stay there and enjoy swimming in the sunshine and eating good food until your belly’s full? No! Let’s march halfway around the world, thousands of miles, being attacked by anyone and everyone, until we end up tired and hungry in some freezing godforsaken place…”

Soon his words couldn’t be heard because the wind decided to keep them for itself and carry them off elsewhere.

“Let’s find somewhere to rest,” suggested Elinia.

“Yes, let’s,” replied Julius, having looked around to check nobody could overhear, “You must be exhausted riding on the cart I’m pulling.”

It was not an unfair thing to say, Elinia thought, and so she ignored the sarcasm.

Later on, they rested together beside a warm fire, Elinia lying down on one side and Julius on the other. As it turned out, being a young girl had its advantages. As soon as the soldiers they met had got over their amazement at seeing a child in their midst, they were, for the most part, very keen to help. There was lots of “you plonk yourself over there miss” and “we’ll get you a fire going won’t we Malcho?” as well as “come on lads, give the little one a bit of privacy.” They had offered to take Julius away and tie him up somewhere with the other horses but Elinia had said she must be near her horse and they had accepted that laughing, “just like a cavalry soldier” and they even brought some food for Julius and some food for her. Which was extremely kind because there wasn’t much food to go around.

When they were alone beside their fire, Elinia risked talking to Julius.

“I don’t know how it’s possible, but I think we’re in the middle of Hannibal’s army.”

“Who is this Hannibal?” asked Julius crossly. “You asked that soldier about his tent earlier.”

“Hannibal? You must have heard of Hannibal.”

“Certainly not. A general, I heard. We horses don’t spend much time socialising with generals.”

Elinia was about to ask if Julius hadn’t learned about Hannibal at school but she immediately realised that that was a very silly question.

“My tutor told me all about Hannibal. He…”

“Ah, your tutor!’ said Julius, still rather crossly, “Perhaps you don’t realise that horses, even intelligent horses who can talk and listen, aren’t given an education. We don’t get sent to school.”

“No, sorry,” said Elinia, “I know.”

“Hmmph…well? Who is this Hannibal?”

“So Hannibal lived about two thousand years ago…”

“Two thousand years ago!? But that’s ridiculous. How can we possibly be here two thousand years ago?”

Elinia felt rather embarrassed because she sort of did know how they could possibly be ‘there’ two thousand years ago. And she also sort of knew that it was probably her fault Julius was ‘there’ two thousand years ago (well, it’s true, they were here now but, wherever they were, they were here or there two thousand years before they should be – if you follow).

Elinia just shrugged and carried on as if the question wasn’t important.

“Anyway, Hannibal was a Carthaginian and the Carthaginians didn’t like the Romans who didn’t like the Carthaginians. They both lived on opposite sides of the Mediterranean Sea but Hannibal didn’t have enough ships to cross over and attack the Romans, so instead he marched his army the long way round through Spain, France and over the Alps…which is where we are now, crossing the Alps. I think we’re right on top of the Alps ready to go down into Italy, which is where the Romans lived, I mean live.”

“This is all mad,” sighed Julius, “I can’t take it all in.”

“I’m not surprised,” agreed Elinia, “I can’t quite believe it either.”

There was quite a long pause as both of them watched the flames wrestling in the fire.

After a while though, Julius lowered his head and said quietly:

“I’m glad you’re here with me.”

“You are?” Elinia was surprised.

“Yes, I am,” said Julius, “I wouldn’t want to be here on my own.”

“But I didn’t think you liked me,” said Elinia.

“I don’t really know you but I don’t dislike you.”

“But when we first met, you said I wouldn’t do…at all.”

“Did I? Ah, well, perhaps I did,” the horse sighed. “Yes, probably I did but you have to understand I say that about everyone. It’s my way.”

Elinia thought about that and she thought also about the fact that she hadn’t always been that pleasant to everybody herself. Nonetheless, she was curious. Why should Julius say that about everyone? So she asked the question;

“Why do you say that about everyone?”

The horse looked at her and seemed to think about this.

“Well, you have to imagine what it’s like to be a talking horse. I don’t just talk you know. As you may have noticed, I also think. I do quite a lot of thinking as a matter of fact…and being a thinking horse is the problem.”

“I don’t understand,” said Elinia frowning, “Why’s that the problem?”

“Because horses are not treated as if they think. Even if they do think,” explained Julius. “I can think but I can’t read because no one has ever taught me to read. I mean who would teach a horse how to read?”

“Oh, right, well, yes,” said Elinia thoughtfully, “I see what you mean.”

“Who’d teach a horse anything for that matter? Except trotting around in a circle or jumping over fences. I think but I can’t go to school. I’m not taken seriously…so, you see, I find other ways to get taken seriously. I make people frightened of me. I get them to run around after me…but it has to be horse things. I’ve tried getting them to teach me people things but immediately they stop taking me seriously. Besides, what would be the point?”

“How do you mean?” asked Elinia who was all agog because she had never thought about anything like this before. It had just never occurred to her.

“Well, think of it this way. What do you want to be when you grow up?” Julius asked her.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think I have much choice. I think I just become Queen. I shouldn’t think I’m allowed to do anything else.”

“Ah, then perhaps you are a little like me after all. Maybe you can understand,” said Julius, looking at her a little differently. “But look, what if I wanted to be a doctor, an engineer, or, I don’t know, a chef or an interior designer? Do you think people want horses doing those jobs? Certainly not! Imagine: the nurse says ‘you can go in, the doctor will see you now’ and the patient walks into a stable or people find out that a bridge has been built by a horse. Would people want a horse cooking a meal for them? Or a horse doing anything else for that matter? So what’s the point of learning anything?”

“Some things can be fun to learn.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been allowed to try.” said Julius, grumpily, “For instance I like music. I might go so far as to say I love music. I would like to learn how to play music. But do they make pianos or violins for horses? Or guitars, or clarinets, or even headphones for that matter?”

“No, I suppose not.” replied Elinia, who was starting to feel slightly guilty.

“But none of that is the worst part. Do you want to know what the worst part of being a thinking horse is?”

“Yes,” said Elinia, although she wasn’t completely sure that she did want to know.

“The worst thing about being a thinking horse is that I can think and understand things but I can still be bought and sold. I was owned by Countess Menchin and then along came your Major Domo and he bought me for you, the princess.”

“I’m sorry,” said Elinia, “I wouldn’t like that. I wouldn’t like to be bought and sold.”

Julius looked at her quite intently but then his gaze eased off.

“Never mind. It’s not really your fault, I suppose,” he said. “Still, now you see why I give everyone a hard time. It’s my revenge. And also, it’s my way of standing up for myself. It’s just my way.”

There was silence again as they both looked at the flames still struggling in the fire. They both appeared to be getting a little sleepy. It had, after all, been a long day.

After quite a time, Elinia said rather timidly, “I used to dream about you.”

Julius looked up.

“I know. I used to dream about you.”

“You did?” said Elinia, amazed.

“Of course I did. That’s how such dreams work. The kind of dreams that last and continue. If you dream with somebody, that somebody dreams with you. You dreamed with me. I dreamed with you.”

“Oh, I didn’t know,” said Elinia sleepily. “That’s lovely…”

In the morning, the very early morning, the camp began to get ready to leave. A few flakes of snow drifted in the air. The freshly-risen sun glanced across the land and made the few, tiny flakes sparkle.

A couple of the soldiers led Julius back to the cart he had been pulling the day before and were about to put his harness on when Elinia went up to them.

“Does he have to pull that cart? Is it important? What’s in it? He’s very tired, you know.”

“Well, I’m not sure, missy. To be honest, I don’t know what’s in it,” said one of the soldiers. “But it’s sort of how it works, you see. The horses pull the carts – unless they’re cavalry that is.”

The other soldier looked sympathetic but rather doubtful as he held the harness indecisively.

At that moment Commander Bomlidar strode up.

“I’m taking this horse,” he said rudely.

“You can’t!” exclaimed Elinia going to stand in front of Julius. “He’s my horse. He’s my friend!”

“Your horse?” said Bomlidar and he drew his sword. “We’ll see about that.”

Elinia didn’t move. He was about to advance on Elinia, sword in hand, when one of the soldiers walked between them and stopped. Immediately the other soldier joined him.

“Get out of my way!” yelled Bomlidar.

Three more soldiers who had been standing nearby went and joined their two companions.

“I order you to get out of my way.” shouted Bomlidar even more loudly.

“Do you think it’ll snow today?” one of the soldiers asked, completely ignoring Bomlidar.

“Hard to say,” one of them replied, “Always difficult to tell in the mountains. Weather changes so quickly.”

“That’s true,” agreed a third. “Do you remember on Tuesday? It rained in the morning, snowed at lunchtime, sunny in the afternoon…”

“Will you get out of my way!!!” screamed Bomlidar, going purple in the face but white round the edges of his jaw and also, rather unfortunately, exposing his very bad teeth.

“Did you try that stew I made last night?” the fourth soldier asked, moving across as Bomlidar tried to go round them.

“I did. Very tasty,” said the fifth soldier. “One of your best.”

“GET OUT OF MY WAY!!!!”

“Oh, was that you who made the stew?” said the first soldier also moving across to block Bomlidar without looking at him. In fact, all the soldiers had carefully not looked at Bomlidar while they chatted away.

“Yeah. What did you think?”

“Pretty good. Amazing in fact. What was in it?”

“I caught a couple of rabbits yesterday. Bit of veg. Still got a few spices.”

Bomlidar opened his mouth to yell once more but as he looked at the five soldiers blocking his way and completely ignoring him, he fell silent. Then, his face no longer purple but full of thick, black clouds, he stormed off.

Elinia looked at all five soldiers.

“Thank you. Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it,” said one of the soldiers. “We like messing with Commander Bomlidar. One of our favourite sports is winding him up.”

“He’s a nasty bit of work,” said another. “We try to make his life as difficult as we can. We don’t play fair you might say.”

The soldiers laughed.

“Let’s have a look at what’s in this cart then,” said another soldier as he rummaged around in the back of the cart. “Few bits of wood. Some canvas. A lot of empty pots. What’s this? Looks like a fishing net! That’s really useful up a mountain. This is all rubbish. Leave it here. You and your horse go on. Forget about the cart.”

“Thank you so much. You’ve been so very kind.”

“Don’t mention it You shouldn’t be up here in the first place, so we have to look after you. Speaking of which, you better have this,” the soldier who was speaking handed her a small cloth bag. “It’s not much, just a few nuts and dried fruit but better than nothing.”

As they walked on, Julius found an opportunity to whisper to Elinia without being overheard:

“You stood between me and a man with a sword,” he said in a thoroughly amazed tone of voice.

That morning, they joined the slow-moving columns of soldiers and animals moving across the plateau on which the camp had spent the night. Beyond the plateau the ground began to go downwards, slowly at first and then more steeply. By the end of the morning the ground was getting steeper and steeper and the track was getting narrower and narrower. Eventually, the track narrowed into a thin path that wound around the mountain side: to the left the rocks rose up in a sheer cliff, to the right they dropped away into head-spinning heights.

Looking down on this track, along which the soldiers were creeping slowly down and on which the animals, particularly the elephants could barely keep their balance, Elinia and Julius held back.

“I’m not sure I want to go down there,” said Elinia nervously.

“I don’t think I like the look of it either,” agreed Julius.

“Maybe, if we wait, it’ll be less dangerous without so many people.”

“Maybe,” Julius said doubtfully.

“Let’s go over there for the time being,” said Elinia nodding toward a largish, flat open space between two outcrops of rock. “I think I can see…I’m not sure, is that a cave over there?”

They slipped away from the soldiers without anybody noticing, mainly because they were all looking at the narrow path below them and worrying.

As they moved over to the clearing, Elinia turned to Julius.

“Did you hear anything?” she asked.

“I may be going mad and, frankly, I think I could be forgiven for going mad,” replied the horse, “but I thought I heard your name being called.”

“Me too. That’s what I thought I heard.”

“I think it’s coming from that cave.”

As they walked toward the cave, they could now hear more clearly a voice shouting “Elinia, Elinia.”

“I think that’s Orianna!” exclaimed Elinia joyously. “What’s she doing here.” She ran toward the cave with Julius trotting after.

They both entered the cave expecting it to be dark and were, therefore, surprised to find it full of light. The reason for this was twofold. Firstly, the cave had a gap in its roof which let in some sunlight and, secondly, the cave was filled with walls, mounds, and ledges of crystals which multiplied the light over and over again.

“Orianna, Orianna,” cried Elinia. “Where are you?”

“Oh, thank goodness,” replied Orianna, “I’ve found you.”

“Yes, but where are you?”

“I’m not actually here, well, there, with you, but as soon as I realised what my mother had done, I went looking for you. Crystals are the best way of getting in touch. Fortunately, there are lots of crystals in the mountains…”

“How do we get home?” said Julius, interrupting.

“Can you get us home?” asked Elinia hopefully.

“Yes. Don’t worry. Give me moment. I have to concentrate. You have to concentrate too. Is there any Malachite anywhere?”

“Malachite? What’s that?”

“It’s a travelling crystal. Very powerful. It’s dark green with thin, light green bands. The light green looks as if it’s glowing inside the dark green.”

Elinia scurried around, looking.

“Yes, I’ve found some,'” said Elinia.

“Right, now focus on that crystal. Really concentrate. Think of me and home and a connection, a tunnel if you like, and something coming from home. Think. Think…”

As Elinia concentrated, she looked at the crystal which seemed to change its colour slightly. It made a slight humming sound and developed a swelling, around which grew edges, and eventually with a sound like a bell chime, a sugar lump appeared and dropped out of it. Elinia reached out smartly and caught it.

“Ok, I’ve got it. It’s another sugar lump,” she said eagerly.

“That’s right,” said Orianna. “Now one of you has to eat it, doesn’t matter who, and the other has to hold on to the one who eats it.”

“Here,” said Elinia, offering the lump of sugar to Julius. “Would you like it?”

“I’m always partial to a sugar lump,” he replied and took it with his lips and ate it.

“Hold on a moment!” Julius said suddenly. “A sugar lump. Another sugar lump…”

Amidst the mists of time, swirled by the tidal winds between worlds, the words sugar and lump (pronounced in a suspicious tone of voice) echoed. This was probably the first time that that mysterious whirlpool vastness of time had reverberated to those sounds: sugar and lump.

CHAPTER 4

Family Reunions and Strange Instruments

They found themselves standing in a field just outside the Castle gardens. Orianna was running toward them.

“Orianna!” shouted Elinia.

“Elinia!” shouted Orianna.

“Just a moment!” shouted Julius.

He shouted so sternly that Elinia and Orianna stopped a step away from hugging each other and looked at the horse.

“I want to talk about sugar lumps,” he said.

“Oh,” replied Elinia, suddenly looking at her shoes (which, incidentally, were all scuffed and a bit muddy) “Do you?”

“Indeed, I do,” said Julius. “If I remember correctly, I was eating a sugar lump just before everything here disappeared and we found ourselves up a mountain in the middle of an army being shouted at.”

He paused to look more piercingly at Elinia but his look hit the top of Elinia’s head because the princess was still looking down, now very carefully examining the grass around her shoes.

“And now another sugar lump,” Julius continued. “I’ve been given another sugar lump to eat and the mountain has disappeared – thank goodness for that – and here we are back again.

He looked again at Elinia who now seemed to be trying to look at her own chin.

“Two things spring to mind. Firstly, that sugar lumps around here are extremely dangerous and should be avoided at all costs. Secondly, that since it was you, yourself, Princess Elinia, who gave me the first sugar lump to eat, you are responsible for the last day and night I have had to endure. A day and night, I may say, that was one of the worst…”

He was interrupted by Elinia raising her head and saying “I’m sorry” (although Julius didn’t really notice) and by Orianna saying much more loudly “No, no, that’s not true. It wasn’t Elinia’s fault at all. Well, maybe a tiny bit…but the person who’s really responsible was my mother.”

“Your mother?” said Julius, “What on earth has your mother got to do with this? For that matter, what’ve you got to do with it? I mean, who are you?”

“I’m Orianna,” replied Orianna. “I’m Princess Elinia’s Lady-in-Waiting.”

“How do you do,’ said Julius. “Pleased to meet you. Now, if you wouldn’t mind explaining what it is exactly that you’re talking about and what your mother has to do with anything.”

“Well, you see, everything’s my mother’s fault,” said Orianna but then she paused and thought about this. She made a bit of face and continued:

“Thinking about it. Maybe it’s all my fault. It was my idea to go and get my mother’s help. You see, what happened was, well, Elinia, Princess Elinia here, was very upset because she had been dreaming of you and spent years longing for you to turn up but, well, when you did turn up, you weren’t particularly kind to her, and so she was sad…” she paused again and thought a little more, “in fact, if you think about, everything was actually your fault…”

“My fault!” exclaimed Julius, very indignant.

“Sort of,” replied Orianna, sticking her chin out resolutely, “If you think about it. If you had been nice to Elinia, she would not have been sad, so I would not have suggested going to get my mother’s help, and what happened yesterday would never have happened.”

“Pah, what nonsense,” said Julius (he almost whinnied: a thing he never did) but he didn’t sound as indignant as before. “In any case, as they say, you can’t make anything better by finding someone to blame.”

“I don’t know who they are,” laughed Orianna, “but that sounds exactly like something my mother would say.”

“She sounds like a most interesting woman, your mother,” observed Julius. “But you still haven’t told me what she has to do with all this.”

“It’s all about magic, obviously,” said Orianna. “My mother just loves magic. It’s not a hobby with her, you see, it’s more like a career: it’s her whole life really. I’d say she was a bit obsessed…I mean who’d choose to live all alone in the middle of the forest, keeping everyone away, scaring people…anyway, that’s not really the point is it. Sorry. Anyway, when it comes to magic, you could say my mother doesn’t know her own strength.”

“You can say that again!” agreed Elinia.

“She’s so used to snapping her fingers and having something that was thousands of miles away suddenly appear in front of her or popping backwards or forwards hundreds of years in time or making impossible things happen just by imagining them, that she just doesn’t think about it. She doesn’t think through what it’s like for other people. To her it’s just ordinary, everyday stuff. So, you see, she wouldn’t have thought anything about you going to join Hannibal crossing the Alps. For her, that’s just a simple day out, a bit of a picnic you might say.”

“A picnic!” said Julius.

“A picnic!” said Elinia.

“Well, sort of…you know what I mean…”

But it was obvious from the expressions on the faces of the other two that they didn’t know what she meant.

“But, for heaven’s sake,” said Julius, “what was the point of it all?”

“Ah, well, there,” said Orianna, with a bit of a half cough. “You see, the thing was that you were being a bit stuck up and bossy, a massive fusspot if I’m honest, and my mother thought that if you went somewhere else where you’d have to fend for yourself and life was a bit more difficult, then that would take you down a peg or two, wake you up to yourself.”

“I see,” said Julius, quite coldly.

“But look, Elinia didn’t know anything about it. My mother didn’t tell her what would happen. She just told Elinia that if you ate the sugar lump, you’d learn about yourself, isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” replied Elinia, happy to be able to explain that. “That’s all she said. I thought it was a bit like a medicine or something.”

“All Elinia wanted,” Orianna added, “was for the two of you to be friends.

“I see.” said Julius, a bit less coldly.

Suddenly they could hear a few voices shouting from a distance. Most of these were shouting “Princess! princess!” but one was shouting “My daughter! my daughter!”

Emerging from the Castle gardens and striding across the field was a small group. This comprised: the King, the Major Domo, an assistant secretary of state, a senior civil servant, the General, a Captain of the Guard, a palace guard, the Head Gardener, and a junior under-gardener.

This group had formed because, whilst doing a little bit of hedge cutting, the junior under-gardener had seen a Lady-in-Waiting and a horse talking to the missing princess in a field (they seemed to have appeared out of nowhere) and so he had run off to tell the Head Gardener that he’d found the princess that everybody had been looking for, frantically, for two days. The Head Gardener had run off, the under-gardener running behind him, to inform one of the guards. The guard had gone with the Head Gardener and the under-gardener to tell the Captain of the Guard and all four of them had gone in search of the General. Next, they had all gone to the senior civil servant, who went to see the assistant secretary of state who in turn went to see the Major Domo.

Anton was at first quite annoyed to have seven breathless people burst into his study but as soon as he understood why they were all there, he was very pleased and, to be honest, very relieved. He went off to find the King, hardly noticing that he had all the others in tow.

So it was that, ten minutes after he had found the King, the whole band of them were striding purposefully across the field shouting “Princess!”, with one shouting “Daughter!”.

“My daughter, my daughter, my dear child!” exclaimed the King when he arrived where Elinia, Orianna, and Julius were standing. “You’re back!”

Then, having picked up Elinia and, much to her surprise, hugged her, he said:

“Where the deuce have you been?!”

The next few days witnessed quite a few changes at the Castle.

For one thing, all the extraordinarily difficult things that Julius had been demanding that everyone do for him, and that had not been done for the two days, continued to be left undone. Julius, everyone was amazed to find, did not complain.

Next the Royal Builders began to build a school. There were already a few schools in the Castle for the children of those who lived and worked there but these were not big enough. That is to say, they were big enough to cope with all the children that needed to be taught things, but they were not big enough to cope with a horse. None of the doorways were big enough to allow a horse to fit through, none of the desks were big enough, and the chairs were, frankly, quite hopeless. So the Royal Builders had begun to build a school that was the right size and shape for a horse and fitted out with furniture fit for a horse.

Also, the Royal Lawyers were all busy scrabbling about in the Royal Libraries and shuffling about in the Royal State Archives trying to find out whether it was legal to buy and sell thinking horses and, if it was, how to make it not legal.

It had taken a bit of explaining. Elinia had sat down in a small room in the Royal Apartments with her father, the King, when they’d got back to the Castle. At first, they had talked of this and that because, after all, they’d not seen much of each other during the last two or three years except, now and again, when the King and Queen had dropped by, very briefly, between holidays.

Elinia had told her father all about how much she had wanted a horse. This was not news to the King because, to be quite honest, Elinia had made his parents life a bit of a nightmare over wanting a horse. She told him about how she dreamed of one particular horse.

“Dreams, eh?” her father had said. “Never had any myself. Not really my thing, dreams. I’m told that they’re deuced odd. Peculiar even.”

Elinia had then told her father about how Julius had arrived and how he was exactly the horse in her dreams but how Julius hadn’t wanted to have anything to do with her. Then she told her father about Orianna, about Orianna’s mother, Griselda, and about magic sugar lumps.

“Magic, eh?” her father had said. “Don’t do magic myself. Not much time for that kind of thing. You never know where you are with magic. Deuced odd thing, magic. One moment you’re looking at a watering can, the next moment the blasted thing’s a four-poster bed or a dragon or some such. Your father’s the Head of State, don’t you know, can’t be messing about with magic.”

Then Elinia had told him about disappearing and joining Hannibal’s crossing of the Alps and how Julius had told her how difficult it was being a thinking horse. And she told her father about how they were now starting to be friends. And how that made her happy.

“Happy, eh?” her father had said and for a moment Elinia had thought he might say that it wasn’t his thing, but he didn’t.

“You’re happy, is that what it is?” he asked instead, “I thought you were different, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. If I remember correctly, you were always asking for things, insisting on this and that, something wasn’t right, something else could be better, deuced nuisance it was. But you’ve not asked for anything these last five minutes. Glad you’ve given all that up. Happiness, eh? Good thing happiness, I always say. Never leave home without it.”

Elinia looked a bit embarrassed.

“Well, actually, papa, there were just a couple of things I wanted to ask for.”

She looked around the little room they were in. It had one very fat-bellied window on one side with a neat little seat set into it filled with little plump cushions and all surrounded with swags of heavy curtain. She was sitting on a small sofa and her father in an armchair. There was a small desk and a few small bookcases filled with dark leather books. It was such a cosy room she stopped feeling embarrassed and felt quite comfortable telling her father about Julius and how much he wanted to learn things and maybe have a career and about how unfair it was that thinking horses could be bought and sold.

“School, eh?” her father had said. “Deuced odd, actually wanting to go to school. But it takes all sorts, I suppose. And after all, it’s my job to make sure my subjects are getting what they want. Even if it’s deuced odd. If you’re Head of State, you have to do the best you can for everybody or you’re no blasted good at being Head of State!”

Elinia thanked her father and got up and went over to him for another hug, which he seemed to like.

“How’s mama?” she asked.

“Your mother?” her father had replied. “Your mother’s a bit under the weather at the moment. So she’s taken to her bed. The Royal Physician should be with her now as a matter of fact. Expect he’ll find out what’s wrong. Expect she’ll be up and about in no time.”

“So, you’re not both going away on holiday now?”

“No, not now. Not immediately,” her father had replied thoughtfully, “In fact, might give the holidays a miss for the time being.”

The following day Elinia, Orianna, and Julius had all gone to see Griselda.