Fiction: The Adventures of Princess Sarah demo!

 As I write this, I've been trying to work up a weekend post while it is still the weekend. After trying to build on other stuff, I finally admitted I wasn't going to do better than yet another demo I worked up as a spinoff of my retro gaming novel. It actually is an idea I've had for quite a while (see my Troll review), fleshed out with a couple characters I already had a lot of fun with. It also crossed my mind that just about everything good I've ever done has been on the fantasy/ mythology vein. So, here goes...

Princess Sarah and Prince Robert were the children of High King Hector and Queen Daffodil of the Aquamarine Isles and the united Kingdoms of the sea. Sarah was the second oldest of three little Princesses, and Robert was the youngest and the only Prince. Sarah was frustrated and suspicious that the King and Queen would not say if there would be another Prince or Princess. In the summer, when the High King liked to take his Queen on a tour of the Isles and the eldest Princess Lily was away at camp, Sarah and Robert and their sister Bell went to stay with their Grandmother, a Dowager with a great palace on the sea to the east. They loved spending time with Mummy. When they were not with her, they went on long adventures through the Palace grounds, which were full of all manner of wonders. A day came when Sarah announced that they would explore a more secluded part of the Palace.

She held up an old book with a map of the Palace. “Look,” she said, pointing at a turret on the far end of the grounds. “This is the Old Royal Bedroom. Grandma says it’s just a storeroom now. But the location is all wrong. I think there’s something interesting. Anyway, we covered the west wing already. Did you gather our provisions?”

“Frog,” Prince Robert said. He was still just beginning to talk, at an age when Sarah had already had an extensive vocabulary. He held out a purse shaped like a frog, which their mother had fitted with straps to wear on his back. Sarah sorted through the contents. The first was his favorite story book. Next were an umbrella, a tin of soup crackers and a tiny jar of pomegranate jam.  Then there was a smaller frog-shaped coin purse that had been his beloved toy before he inherited the larger one. It rattled with his Collection, a shifting assortment of objects he picked up. It held about a dozen small rocks, three marbles and a pretty seed pod. She opened a compartment in the roof of its mouth with a key Mummy had entrusted to her. It held three candies. Sarah sighed.

“Robert,” she said, “I told you, we need food, not treats….” She relented when she pulled out a sack on the bottom. It held a large roll, a lemon, two peaches, an eighth of a cheese wheel and half a sausage. Robert held out another item. It looked like another toy, shaped like a saurian with a stubby tail and a large, round head. In fact, it was a pitcher, with a lid that formed the saurian’s upper jaw. In the purse were two cups.

“Dink,” Robert said.

“Okay,” Sarah said. She shouldered her own bag, shaped like a Water Cow. “This is good. Now, let’s go.”

 

She led the way. She wore a simple checkered dress, because only little girls wore overalls like boys did. On her feet, she wore perfectly sized and entirely functional hiking boots that clomped loudly on the palace floor. Robert wore her old pair, which were dyed a salmon pink that had worn and faded down to white spots. As they proceeded, the Palace attendants discretely stepped aside. They paused when they found Mummy in their path, innocently playing with her pet ferret. “Hello, children,” she said. “Are you exploring today?”

“Yes,” Sarah said. “We’re going to survey the West Tower.”

“I see,” Mummy said. “Are you sure you want to? It hasn’t been used in a long time, it must be awfully dusty.”

“Yes,” Sarah said. “I bet the catalog is out of date. We can clean up.”

“If you say so,” Mummy said. She gestured to an attendant, who brought her a comb to groom the ferret. “Do be careful. Be sure to be back by tea time.” She waved as they entered the tower stairway.

“Bye bye,” Prince Robert called back.

The stairway proved to be a long climb. They paused at a chamber a third of the way up. It was configured as a sitting room, with a small table that held a chess board complete with pieces. Sarah measured out half the crackers, and filled their cups from Dink. While Robert munched his share, she examined the table. “I knew it,” she said, lifting the red king. “There’s no dust. Someone has been using this section recently.”

“Dink?” Robert said, holding out his cup.

“We need to conserve our water,” Sarah said, then relented and filled his tumbler halfway.

They were winded as they reached the top. It was a high-ceilinged octagonal chamber that echoed with the sound of their boots. The better part was filled by a great bed ringed by curtains. Facing it was a painting of a woman who looked like their mother. Sarah frowned as she looked up. It showed her from behind, in the act of emerging from her bath. Her head was turned back, throwing a sly smile over her shoulder. When the Princess saw Robert at her side, she said, “Go play play. Over there.” She redirected him from the bed to a celestial globe to one side. He giggled as he spun the concentric brass rings.

“Wait,” Sarah said. Her brother froze with a puzzled expression. “You weren’t being bad,” she assured him quickly. She showed him how to turn the knobs and dials properly. She frowned again. “This was tuned, recently.”

She went out onto the balcony. She opened the main compartment of her bag, which formed the belly of the Water Cow. The buckles of the strap were anchored on the tip of the tail and between its horns. She brought out her field glasses and her favorite book, the Royal Explorers’ Guidebook. “`First, survey the area from an elevated position,’” she read. She looked out with the glasses. It was, of course, all familiar landscape, though she discovered that she could see the Royal Flamingo Preserve. She helped Robert up and held the glasses for him.

“Birds,” he said.

“`Next, sketch a chart of the terrain,’” she read. She set down the glasses and took out a drawing pad. She scribbled an outline of the lagoon. “`Make particular note of usable caves and shelters, navigable waterways, and any structures of artificial origin.’” She put an X on a canal that ran back to the Palace. “`Catalog the birds and game…’” She watched the flamingos as they milled about the lagoon.

“Well,” she said with a sigh, “I guess we’ve surveyed this area.” She was mildly surprised to find that Robert was no longer at her side. She was momentarily alarmed when she did not see him behind her either. She circled the bed before she panicked, as Mother told her. Sure enough, her brother was on the other side, looking up at a large armoire.

“Leave it alone,” she said, walking to his side. “I’m sure it’s locked, anyway.” He pulled at a handle that was just within his reach. The left door came open. “Oh. Well, I’m sure there’s nothing interesting…” She opened the door, and then the other.

The armoire was in two parts. The right side was a set of drawers with a cabinet on top. They were locked, except for a pair of drawers just under the cabinet door. She pulled one out, and found it disappointingly small. The left side was an open space as large as her closet, where a suit, a fur wrap and a greatcoat still hung. Sarah tugged at the coat, and found it stiff with age. Robert pointed and whimpered. She followed his pointing finger to a curled up beetle at the back. “I see it,” she said. “Poor little bug.” He whined expectantly.

She sighed and climbed into the armoire. It seemed larger inside than outside, tall enough for Mummy or Mother or even Father to stand upright. She drew a handkerchief and carefully picked up the beetle. “There,” she said, holding up the kerchief. “We’ll give Mr. Beetle a funeral.” She shrieked at a buzzing from under the cloth. She shook out the kerchief, and the now-squirming beetle tumbled out. Before it hit the ground, it spread its wings and flew out through the open door.

“Well,” she said, smoothing her dress, “Mr. Beetle must have gotten stuck inside. It’s a good thing we opened the door, or he might never have gotten out. Let’s go back to the other room.” She climbed down, and started to push the right door shut. She paused, frowned, and opened the drawer again.

“This is too small,” she said. “It’s shallow, do you see? It can’t go all the way to the back. Not even halfway…” Robert looked intently, and nodded in seeming agreement. She opened the other drawer. From it, she pulled two keys. One was weathered brass, the other mirror-bright silver.

She went back inside the armoire. Robert followed, holding his little frog. She ran a hand along the wood paneling. The joining was artful, but could not be hidden. She knocked twice, producing a hollow rattle. She found a decorative panel that slid to one side. Behind it was a keyhole. Robert tugged at her sleeve. “No,” he said solemnly. “Frog Frog say so.” The eyes of his frog swiveled and blinked.

“Don’t worry,” Sarah said. “It’s just a trick door, like Mother’s magic drawer. Look.” She turned the brass key in the lock. The door swung open. It revealed a set of shelves. It was mostly books, most of them in strange languages and letters. On the top shelf were a bottle, a jar, a knife and a strange skull. “See? Just grown-up stuff.” She shut the door and locked it. Only when it clicked did she realize that she had used the silver key.

“Huh,” she said. “They both fit the same lock. I wonder why…” She turned the key again. The door opened…

“Sarah!” Robert called out. He grabbed for her skirt.

The hidden door clicked shut.

And slowly, the ponderous doors of the empty armoire swung shut.