Damsel Disaster! Page 4

  Everyone gasped as Sir Percy bounced about two metres sideways – into a large rose bush.

  “Aaaargh!” he wailed. “Get me out!”

  As Patchcoat and I ran to help I suddenly remembered reading that the new battle-bouncers had a few “teething problems”. In other words, they were rubbish. Mind you, they looked fun, as long as you weren’t in the middle of an actual battle. Or too fussy about where you landed.

  Sir Roland’s guffaws almost drowned out the sound of a fanfare of trumpets. Patchcoat and I stopped in our tracks as a pair of female heralds marched into the clearing. Right behind them was a tall woman. Her face was shaded by a hood.

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

  It was the princess!

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

  Was there something familiar about that voice?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  The princess pulled down her hood.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Really, Sir Percy?” I said.

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

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

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

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

  “A love potion?” I said.

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

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

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

  “Well, no, I suppose not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Through the kitchens?” I said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Into the privy, quick!” said Patchcoat.

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

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

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

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

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

  I popped up from behind a fine satin evening gown.

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

  I nodded at all the fancy frocks.

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

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

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

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

  “Erm – er… ”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Huh?” I said. “What do you mean?”

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

  I shook my head in horror.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Shh!” said Patchcoat suddenly.

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

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

  It was the High Steward!

  “Just takin’ Her Highness some lemonade, ma’am,” said a familiar voice.

  It was Peggy. My heart missed a beat. With all the excitement, obviously.

  “Ah, very good,” said the High Steward. “Have you seen any males?”

  “Males, ma’am?” said Peggy.

  “Yes, males,” said the High Steward. “The head gardener says she saw some males lurking in the trees near the kitchens. And one of them was a knight!”

  Uh-oh.

  “D’you think it was that big one, ma’am?” said Peggy. “The one who looks like a bear?”

  “No. It definitely wasn’t him,” said the High Steward. “From the gardener’s description it sounds more like the pompous one.”

  “Charming!” muttered Sir Percy.

  “Oh, then that means his squire’s still here, too!” said Peggy cheerfully.

  My face went a bit warm again.

  “Yes, and that jester fellow,” said the High Steward. “The gardener said there were three of them. I will tell the guards to search the grounds. Then I must inform the princess. When we catch them we’ll have all three locked in the high tower!”

  At that moment a thunderous knocking echoed through the castle.

  “Now what?” sighed the High Steward.

  “Sounds like the front door, ma’am,” said Peggy. “Shall I go and answer it?”

  “Yes, please,” said the High Steward. “I hope it’s not that big hairy knight again. He’s so impatient. Keeps asking if Her Highness has made up her mind yet!”

  We heard Peggy and the High Steward leave the kitchen. Then we slipped out of our hiding place.

  “Look!” said Patchcoat, as we crept along the corridor. “The servants’ stairs! I bet they lead straight to the princess’s private quarters.”

  “Hold on,” I said suddenly. “I’ve just thought of something!”

  I dashed back into the kitchen and returned with the tray of lemonade.

  “Really, Cedric,” said Sir Percy. “This is no time for refreshments!”

  “It’s not for us, Sir Percy,” I said. “I thought we could put the love potion in it.”

  “Ah … indeed!” said Sir Percy. “The very thing I was about to suggest myself.” Yeah, right. “On we go, then. Cedric, I shall give you the honour of leading the way!”

  We tiptoed up the narrow servants’ stairs and came out on a grand, oak-panelled landing. It was lined with rich tapestries and paintings of formidable women wearing tiaras and old-fashioned dresses – the princess’s ancestors, by the look of them.

  Patchcoat pointed to a large door decorated with a gold crown.

  “Her Highness’s private quarters, I reckon,” said Patchcoat.

  “Can you hear anything, Cedric?” whispered Sir Percy.

  I put down the tray and stuck my ear to the keyhole.

  “All quiet, Sir Percy,” I said.

  But I spoke too soon. At the far end of the landing was another set of stairs, much grander than the ones we’d come up. And someone was climbing them in a hurry!

  There was no time to hide. Patchcoat and I just managed to swivel Sir Percy round so that he was facing the other way when the High Steward appeared at the top of the stairs.

  Patchcoat and I bobbed hasty curtsies and looked firmly at the ground. I guessed we had five seconds at the most before the High Steward called for the guards. So we were surprised by what came next.

  “Your Highness! Your Highness!” the High Steward said breathlessly, looking towards Sir Percy. “Ah! I see you’ve changed for dinner. Are you all right?”

  Sir Percy had the sense to say nothing and just nod vigorously.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” the High Steward said. “There appear to be several intruders loose on the island. And male ones at that! The guards are searching for them. Has Your Highness heard anything?”

  Sir Percy shook his head wildly.

  Any more overacting like that and you’ll definitely blow our cover! I thought.

  And then Patchcoat did something completely crazy.

  “I knows where they is, ma’am!” he cried in a squeaky girly voice.

  I felt Sir Percy flinch. What was
Patchcoat playing at?

  “Really, girl?” said the High Steward. “Where?”

  Patchcoat ran across the landing and pointed to the servants’ stairs.

  “Down there, ma’am!” he squeaked. “I think I ’eard someone ’iding in the servants’ privy, ma’am!”

  “Good gracious!” gasped the High Steward.

  “I’ll show yer if yer likes, ma’am!” said Patchcoat. “Foller me!”

  Patchcoat disappeared down the stairs.

  “Aha! Now we’ve got them! Wait for me, girl!” cried the High Steward. “Will you kindly excuse me, Your Highness?”

  Sir Percy nodded eagerly and the High Steward dashed after Patchcoat.

  I sighed with relief.

  “Phew!” I said. “But I don’t know how long he’ll be able to distract her for. So we’d better get a move on.”

  “Indeed!” said Sir Percy. “In you go, Cedric. You have nothing to fear. I am right behind you!”

  I slowly opened the door to the princess’s private quarters. We found ourselves in a splendid parlour with a roaring fire and several large comfy chairs. There were a couple of doors leading into other parts of the private quarters. I guessed one of them probably led to the princess’s bedchamber.

  I put down the tray of lemonade on a low table near the fire.

  “Now pass me the potion, Cedric,” said Sir Percy, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

  “Yes, Sir Percy.”

  I took the bottle of love potion from my apron and handed it to Sir Percy. He pulled out the cork while I poured a glass of lemonade.

  “Excellent!” said Sir Percy. “Here goes.”

  “Just a few drops, remember,” I said.

  “Indeed,” said Sir Percy. “It’s very powerful stuff.”

  He dripped a small amount of the potion into the glass of lemonade – just as we heard footsteps out on the landing. The door handle rattled.

  Sir Percy was so startled he accidentally shook about half the bottle into the glass.

  “Bother! Oh well. The longer the potion lasts, the longer I have to win her over. Quick, make yourself scarce, Cedric! As soon as Her Highness has drunk the potion I shall appear! We must ensure I am the first person she sees.”