Rauber started to laugh, but caught himself and turned it into a cough. Ella unwrapped a small bundle she’d been carrying with her. Inside were several strips of fabric that had been ripped from her skirt, some leftover bread and cheese, and the flask of water. She handed the flask to her cousin, and he took a few long, greedy swigs.
“I was alone,” Rauber said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Foolish of me, I know. You should always ride with a buddy.”
“That’s true, especially at your age,” Ella said as she took the flask back and tipped it to dampen a piece of cloth. She used the wet rag to wipe down the big gash on his leg, as well as several other cuts and scrapes on his limbs. “Are you even old enough to be riding?”
Rauber crinkled his nose angrily and crossed his eyes at Ella.
“Oh, did that hurt?” Ella asked. “Sorry if it stings a bit, but I’ve got to get these boo-boos cleaned up. Especially this nasty cut on your shin. We’ve got to get you fixed up so you can go run and play with the other little boys again.”
Rauber took a deep breath. If this girl didn’t stop treating him like a baby, he was going to lose it. “Is that cheese?” he asked.
“Go ahead, take a bit,” Ella replied, as she bandaged his leg. She used the big stick she’d found as a splint and tied it to the injured limb. Rauber snatched up Ella’s remaining cheese and bread and shoved it all messily into his mouth.
“Hey, cuz,” Rauber called. When Ella looked up, the boy opened his mouth wide and showed her the disgusting glob of half-chewed food on his tongue. “Ha!”
Ella shook her head. “Sheesh. You used to do that when you were six. I would hope you’d be a little more mature by now.”
“Oho!” Rauber said with a spray of crumbs. “So which is it? Am I supposed to be a sweetie widdle baby? Or am I supposed to be mature? You can’t have it both ways.”
“Whoa, there, Deebie,” Ella cautioned.
“How thick is your skull?” Rauber snapped. “I told you not to call me that! I mean, asked. I asked you not to call me that.”
Ella stared at him sternly.
“Please,” he added.
“Not much in the manners department, are you, Deeb?”
“No, ma’am. I guess not. Sorry about that. I’ve got a lot to learn.” He flashed a smile, hoping it would disguise the sarcasm that he was finding increasingly difficult to stifle.
“You certainly do. Do you talk to your mother like that?”
Rauber couldn’t hold back. “No,” he snickered. “I talk to my mother by slipping notes under the door of the cupboard I locked her in.” And then he burst into a big belly laugh.
“Boys are so strange. I don’t even get that joke,” Ella said drily as Rauber continued to guffaw.
Rauber waved his hand at her dismissively. “Eh, what would a grime-wiper like you know about funny, anyway?”
Ella stopped wrapping up a scrape on her cousin’s knee and stood up. “You know, I think you’re fine now,” she said tersely, crossing her arms and glaring down at Rauber. “You’re just as bratty as I remember. Get up and see if you can walk.”
Rauber pulled himself to his feet. He tested his injured leg and smiled.
“All better?” Ella asked, still annoyed with her cousin, but pleased with herself for a successful first-aid job.
“Oh, yes,” Rauber said, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “I’m just perfect.” He leaned in toward her. “Because you fell for my trick!”
“Come again?” Ella said. She was growing extremely tired of his childish nonsense.
“I tricked you into fixing me up,” Rauber continued in a melodramatic tone. “You thought I was just your sweet, innocent little cousin—”
“Actually, I thought you were a brat, but go on.”
“You assumed the person you were helping was nothing more than a cousin in need, but really, you were assisting… THE BANDIT KING!”
Ella stared at him quizzically.
“I am the Bandit King!” Rauber proclaimed again.
“That’s cute,” Ella said. “But I don’t really have time for games right now. Do you need me to get you back to your parents’ house or not? Because I’ve got important things to do.”
Rauber limped up to her, getting as close as he could. “The Bandit King,” he said once more. “Scourge of seven kingdoms. Most feared man in the known world. He is me!”
“I’m going to take that as a no,” Ella said, shaking her head. “You seem pretty intent on playing Knights and Robbers—and that’s fine. You’re a kid. That’s what kids do. But I’ve got to go.”
“I’m not playing, cuz,” Rauber said, a bit of a whine creeping into his voice. “I’m deadly serious.”
Ella couldn’t help laughing.
“Come on,” Rauber grumbled. “You can’t tell me you’re not afraid of the Bandit King.”
“Am I supposed to be? I don’t think I ever read that story.”
“Agh! It’s not a story!” Rauber pounded a nearby tree with his fist. “It’s everything I’ve worked for my entire life!”
“Ha,” Ella chuckled. “Your entire life? What are you? Nine?”
“Ten!” Rauber hissed. He was practically vibrating with rage. “And I’ve accomplished more in ten years than you will in your entire life. How can you not know about the Bandit King? I’m infamous! Infamous!”
“Look, Deeb,” Ella said, patting his shoulder. “You’ve got quite an imagination, but there are people whose lives are in danger, and I need to go help them right now. I’m going to trust that you can get back home by yourself. Please be careful out there. And say hi to Aunt Prudey for me.”
Ella bent over to rewrap her pack of supplies, only to discover there was nothing left to take. She let out an annoyed sigh and tossed the empty cloth at Rauber.
“How dare you disrespect the Bandit King!” he shouted.
“Bye, Deeb,” Ella said, turning on her heel and walking away. Rauber tried to go after her, but realized that with the wooden splint tied to his leg, he couldn’t move very fast. He waved his fists madly and stomped his good foot.
“You won’t get away with this!” he screamed, his cheeks burning red. “Kings cower at my name! Armies run when they see my shadow! I am a master of evil! Eeeeeeeee-vil! You can’t just walk away from me!”
But Ella did just walk away. It was quite possibly the Bandit King’s greatest defeat.
26
PRINCE CHARMING GIVES UP
Frederic tiptoed slowly across the big lawn outside Zaubera’s fortress, past the tiered-bench seating, a couple of booths with GET YOUR GROG HERE signs, and several large banners that bore the witch’s name. Of course, Frederic was actually hoping to be captured—all in keeping with Liam’s plan. He’d never considered himself a human-bait type of guy. But there he was, aiming to distract a giant long enough for his partners to steal a map. I guess I really will do anything for Ella, he thought. Then he stopped himself. No, it’s not just Ella, is it? I’m doing this for Liam and Gustav and Duncan, too. I don’t want to let any of them down.
The giant, Reese, was standing a few yards from the tower, picking his teeth with a wheelbarrow (its dual handles allowed him to scrape between two teeth at once). Frederic “sneaked” by, peering up from time to time to see if the giant had noticed him. No luck. Reese was very much engaged in a battle with a boulder-size hunk of yak meat that was wedged between a pair of molars.
So Frederic coughed. And then he coughed louder. Reese paid the sound no notice. Then Frederic began whistling. Reese continued to ignore him. Eventually, the giant freed the pesky morsel from his teeth, but instead of looking down and seeing Frederic—who was now performing a handstand—he just kept studying the grotesque lump of meat, staring at it sitting on the wet tip of his giant finger, contemplating whether or not to put it back in his mouth.
Down on the ground, Frederic was jumping around and waving his arms. He tried a cartwheel. At last he decided to borrow a proven tactic that ha
d worked in the past. “Stuuuurm-hayyyyyy-gennnnn!” He hollered Gustav’s battle cry as he ran at the giant, wildly waving his new sword.
That did it. Reese dropped his chunk of meat to the ground. “No way,” he muttered in astonishment, as he reached down and snatched up Frederic. “You can’t be back again.” Frederic, for his part, was grateful that he hadn’t needed to stick the giant with his sword in order to get noticed. Trying to charm someone is never easy once you’ve stabbed him.
Reese examined Frederic. “Hey, wait. You’re not the one who keeps coming back and poking me.”
“No,” said Frederic. “That would be my friend, Gustav.”
“Is he here, too?” The giant frowned and scanned the field.
“No!” Frederic said quickly. “He … he got eaten by trolls.” It was the first thing that came into his head. And he immediately regretted saying it.
“I thought trolls were vegetarian,” Reese said suspiciously.
“Normally, uh, sure,” Frederic said, his mind scrambling. “But Gustav annoyed them so badly, they made an exception and ate him anyway.”
“I can believe that,” Reese said. Then, feeling a bit contrite, the giant adopted a more agreeable tone. “Well, I can’t say as I’ll miss the little pest, but I assume you must be a bit sad about it, seeing as he was your friend. So, uh, you have my sympathies. I am very sorry for your loss.”
Sitting in the giant’s rough-skinned palm, Frederic sheathed his sword. Etiquette! This was a giant who understood proper manners. “Thank you,” he said. “Your kindness is much appreciated. I don’t know many people—of any size—who would treat a prisoner with such respect.”
“Your appreciation is much appreciated as well,” said Reese. With his free hand, he scratched his stubbly chin. “Why’d you come back here, anyway? You must have known you couldn’t get past me.”
“Oh, absolutely. I fully expected you to stop me. You’re enormous, obviously very powerful, and the last time we met, you proved yourself to be a determined and tireless opponent. But I had to come back here to honor the memory of my dear friend. He very badly wanted something that’s inside that fortress, and now that he’s digesting in a troll’s belly somewhere, I felt the need to fulfill his final wishes. I was a little afraid of the dragon, though—it’s not still here, is it?”
“It’s around back,” Reese said. “I hate that thing.”
“Likewise,” Frederic said. “Dragons can’t be trusted, but you… I was pretty sure that when you captured me, you’d treat me well.”
“How’d you know I wouldn’t just crush you?”
“I had a good feeling. When we clashed last time, you seemed like a noble sort.”
“I like to do my mum proud.”
“That’s what I figured. And so far my initial impression of you has been borne out. You’ve been quite pleasant. It makes me wonder why you associate yourself with someone as wicked and awful as that witch, Zaubera.”
The giant’s body shook as he began to laugh, and Frederic had to wrap his arms around an enormous pinkie to make sure he didn’t tumble off. “What did I say that was so funny?” he asked.
“I may be polite, but I’m no fool,” Reese said. “I’m not going to fall for the same trick twice.”
Frederic began to panic. Was his strategy backfiring? “It’s no trick! I meant every word. And, um, what do you mean by ‘same trick twice’? You and I never even spoke the last time we met.”
“Not you,” Reese said. “The brown-haired girl. She did the same exact thing: complimented me, harped on how terrible the witch was, got me to trust her. And then she scampered off. Oh, yeah, she got me good. But it’s not going to work again.”
“You’re talking about Ella, aren’t you?” Frederic asked. A warm wave of happiness washed over him. Ella had escaped with the very same tactic he was trying to use. Maybe the two of them did have a few things in common.
“Oh, man, I shouldn’t have told you that,” Reese muttered, glancing around nervously. “The witch doesn’t know the girl is gone.”
“She doesn’t?” Frederic was intrigued. Maybe things hadn’t taken a bad turn after all.
“I made a wonderful little dummy and put it in the tower,” Reese explained. “Frankly, I didn’t know I had such artistic talent in me. But that’s beside the point. Look, you can’t tell the witch. I don’t want to be a pile of bacon.”
“I don’t quite understand the last part of what you said,” Frederic began, “but it appears that you’re asking me for a favor.” Yes, he thought, this was all going to work out just fine.
A few moments earlier, Liam, Duncan, and Gustav watched Frederic and the giant from among the rocks at the base of Mount Batwing.
“Stuuuurm-hayyyyyy-gennnnn!” they heard Frederic yell.
Gustav turned to the others and smiled. “He got that from me.”
“I liked that little dance he was doing,” Duncan added. “I have to remember to ask him about the choreography later.”
“Shhh! They’re talking,” Liam scolded. “Pay attention.”
“I was a little afraid of the dragon, though,” Frederic was saying. “It’s not still here, is it?”
“It’s around back.”
“Okay, I’m off to go play,” Gustav said. “You two had better get that map. I don’t like risking my life for nothing.”
Liam snorted. “You always risk your life for nothing. It’s like a hobby.”
Gustav ignored him, drew his sword, and ran toward the back of the fortress.
He was looking forward to this. None of his brothers had ever fought a dragon. Harald (brother #8) got all those kudos for skewering a couple of goblins; Lars (#12) got a feast after he caught a wild dog-man; and Henrik (#1) and Osvald (#5) were showered with praise after they took down one measly bog-beast. But those creatures were nothing compared to a dragon. No, if Gustav held his own against a dragon, it would be, hands down, the most impressive feat any of the princes of Sturmhagen had ever pulled off. Gustav was sure he could do it, too. In fact, he had no doubt he could slay the monster and be done with it. But a dead dragon wouldn’t fit into the plan. They needed the dragon to scare off the giant later. And for once, Gustav was determined to stick to the plan.
This was going to be his moment for redemption—the moment he would show everybody what he was capable of.
But the dragon was asleep.
“Seriously?” Gustav threw his arms down and kicked a rock in frustration. “I was supposed to have a fighting job. Not a pet-sitting job.”
He looked at the beast, snoozing peacefully in the shadow of the stronghold’s tall tower, and was strongly tempted to wake it up. One jab of his sword would do the trick.
But he held back. He was going to follow the plan and do what was best for the group. Using all the willpower he could muster, he sat on the grass and simply stared at the sleeping dragon.
This is the most boring moment of redemption ever, he thought.
A few moments after Gustav ran off to meet the dragon, Liam and Duncan darted over to the large wooden doors of the fortress. The giant was laughing at something Frederic said, and it seemed like the perfect time to sneak in without raising any alarms.
Duncan began to laugh, too, and Liam shushed him.
“Sorry,” Duncan whispered. “Frederic must have said something pretty funny to make the giant laugh like that. So I was trying to imagine what it might have been, and—ha!—it was even funnier than I thought.”
“Duncan, focus.”
Duncan nodded in response, and Liam tugged at the big round iron door handle. It cracked open, and he and Duncan slipped inside.
They were in the cavernous main chamber where Liam had first faced the dragon (and lost the map). Duncan surveyed the vast collections of ancient runic tomes, the skeletal owls and dried snake skins, the buckets of slime and the bowls of shrunken heads. “It’s like a scary-story museum,” he said in hushed wonder.
“This plan is working out perf
ectly so far,” Liam said softly, occasionally glancing at the front door to make sure no one was coming. “I don’t like it.”
“What do you mean?” Duncan asked. “It’s your plan; of course it’s going to work.”
“I’m glad one of us is so sure of that,” Liam whispered. “I had a plan last time, too, you know. At least, in my head I did. And look how that worked out.”
“Nobody’s perfect, Liam,” Duncan said, putting his hand on Liam’s shoulder. “You’re the best hero among us. If anybody can stop this witch and save those people, it’s you. I consider it a privilege just to be by your side.”
Liam smiled weakly. He didn’t quite share Duncan’s faith in him after all that had happened, but he appreciated it nonetheless.
“You’re a good friend, Duncan.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell people for years!”
“Okay,” Liam said. “Stay here and watch the doors. I’m going to check that corner over there.” He headed across the big room to the last place he’d seen the map. He crouched down into the dark corner. Almost immediately, he saw the map, just lying there on the stone floor.
“Oh, that’s not good,” he muttered. “That was too easy.”
He grabbed the map and anxiously rolled it up. “Something is going to go wrong any second now. I can feel it. Duncan,” he called out. “Let’s get out of here.”
But when he turned around and looked back toward the exit doors, Duncan was gone.
When Liam had said, “Watch the doors,” Duncan wasn’t sure if he’d meant the front doors. There were, after all, lots of doors in that room. So Duncan thought about it for a second and decided that the big exit doors probably didn’t need much watching—they were hard to miss. Some of these smaller, more out-of-the-way doors were another matter entirely.
He slunk along the wall until he came to the first of the doors. He slowly opened it, poked his head inside, and saw nothing but a chamber pot, which made him giggle. He closed the door and moved down to the next one. Behind that door, he found a small room lined with broomsticks. He briefly considered trying to ride one, but the risk of inner-thigh splinters was too unappealing, and he opted against it. The third door opened onto a long, torch-lit corridor. He was about to shut it, when he heard footsteps around the corner. If it was the witch, he needed to warn Liam. But maybe it wasn’t the witch....