Ella Enchanted

  “Don’t make a pet out of it,” SEEf warned.

  After dinner the young ogre sat next to me. “You mustn’t be frightened,” he said.

  No?

  “My name is NiSSh. What’s yours?”

  I told him.

  “My father’s name is SEEf. He could convince you that we won’t harm you. I’m not as good at convincing people yet. But we hate for people to be upset.” He touched my arm sympathetically.

  I felt calmer. I couldn’t help it. His voice was so soothing.

  “You must be tired, after such a terrible day.”

  I yawned.

  “Why don’t you stretch out right here? I’ll make sure nothing harms you while you sleep.”

  Wasn’t he going to bind me? A bubble of hope swelled in my mind.

  “But don’t run away.”

  The bubble burst.

  In the middle of the night I awoke. SEEf slept closest to me, making gurgling noises and grinding his teeth.

  Ogres are sound sleepers. I stood and picked my way over them, which was difficult because they slept almost on top of one another. I bumped the leg of one, and he or she kicked at me but slept on. Beyond the heap of their bodies, I found my saddlebags.

  I tried to leave, but as soon as I crept more than a few yards beyond the pile of ogres, my complaints started: thudding heart, tight chest, spinning head. A few feet more, and I was on my knees, crawling in circles. I crept back to the farthest spot the curse let me feel comfortable.

  The ogres wouldn’t wait much longer to kill me. I had to break the spell now.

  “The spell is broken,” I announced aloud, but softly. “I need not obey NiSSh. I will escape.”

  But in a moment I was on my knees again, helpless and sobbing.

  I tried again. Mimicking the ogres, I made my voice as persuasive as I could. “What is a spell?” I asked myself. “Only words. I can walk away from these ogres. I can do it. No magic can stop me.”

  I stood and took confident steps. I was moving quickly, fearlessly. The spell was broken!

  Then I saw SEEf almost at my feet. I had gone the wrong way.

  I bit back a scream of rage. I was going to die soon, and I would never have found Lucinda, would never have lived uncursed.

  I returned to the end of my invisible tether and battled my despair. My voice had been persuasive; might not persuasion have other uses? Could I mimic the ogres? Could I speak with their persuasive power?

  For a while my voice sounded too harsh. It needed honey for sweetness and oil for smoothness. I imagined swallowing a mixture of the two and coating my throat with them.

  “SSyng lahlFFOOn, haZZ liMMOOn. lahlFFOOn eFFuth wAAth psySSahbuSS.” It meant “One should eat vegetables, not humans, because vegetables taste more delicious.” It sounded persuasive to me. I was convinced.

  I practiced for hours and fell asleep practicing.

  And woke up to NiSSh, practicing on me. “Wake up, dearie. You were wise not to leave us during the night. These lands are dangerous. An elf might have gotten you.”

  The image of a fierce, spear-carrying elf came to me.

  “Let’s eat it now,” said a female ogre. “You can’t have all of it, SEEf. We’ll get more food soon.”

  “All right, if I get a leg.” He held my shoulders.

  She nodded. “I’ll be content with an arm if I can have an ear too.”

  In a moment all my parts were claimed. NiSSh wanted to keep me alive awhile longer, but he gave in when he was allowed to have my neck.

  “The best part,” he said, coming close and patting it.

  SEEf said, “I want to be the one to kill it.” He jerked me away from NiSSh.

  “You’re …” I began in Ogrese. It came out as a squeak.

  SEEf bared his teeth. The points glistened. Saliva dripped from his lips.

  I tried again. “You’re not really hungry. You’re full.” My voice was raspy. More honey! More oil!

  The ogres stared, as surprised as if a rock had spoken.

  “I knew it was smart.” NiSSh sounded proud of me.

  “Too bad we’re hungry.” SEEf crouched. “It would have made a good pet.” He held my leg, his portion, and lowered his head, his teeth inches from my thigh.

  Honey and oil! “How can you eat me? You’re too full to eat—all of you are. Your bellies are as heavy as sacks of melons.”

  SEEf stopped.

  I went on. “You just had a wonderful meal of eight fat ladies. If you eat me too, you’ll get sick. You want to go back to sleep, to sleep off your big meal.”

  SEEf let me go. I stepped away from him.

  “You feel tired. The ground is so soft, so comfortable,” I said.

  NiSSh rubbed his eyes and stretched.

  I continued, soothingly. “It’s much too early to be awake. The day has barely begun, and it will be a lovely, lazy, sleepy day.”

  SEEf sat. His head rolled onto his chest.

  “You can sleep and have delicious dreams. While you’re sleeping, I’ll find you another enormous meal, of piglets and people and elves and elephants and horses and …”

  “No hornets,” NiSSh muttered from a dream.

  Sleep had claimed them. They had returned to their heap of the night, again grunting and snoring and groaning.

  I almost laughed and broke the spell. Who was giving orders now?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I sobered quickly. What was I going to do with them? How could I arrive at Uaaxee’s farm with eight ogres in tow?

  My situation hadn’t improved significantly. I was still alive, but not for long. I would have to sleep eventually. Then they’d awaken and remember their true hunger.

  A twig snapped behind me. I turned and saw a vision: six knights carrying rope strode toward me, led by a tall young man.

  Visions don’t snap twigs. And the young man was Char!

  He saluted me, but his eyes were on the ogres. Uncoiling a length of rope, he knelt over SEEf and began to bind his ankles.

  The ogres slept soundly, but they were not unconscious. As soon as he felt the cord tighten, SEEf woke with a roar, which shrank to a purr when he saw Char.

  “What an honor, your Highness. But why do you bind an ally?” He reached down and loosened the rope.

  That was proper. Char shouldn’t have been fettering his friend.

  But Char pushed SEEf’s hands aside and tightened the rope again. How could he be so cruel?

  The knights had begun to bind the other ogres, who were also stirring.

  SEEf tried again. “Prince, I would sacrifice my life for you, and you treat me so rudely.”

  Still, Char paid no attention. I watched stupidly while SEEf’s feet lashed out. Char reeled back, losing his grip on the rope. SEEf rose and kicked the tether away.

  The knights hadn’t made much progress with their binding either. Everywhere, they were doing battle. An ogre knelt over one fallen knight, about to sink teeth into his shoulder. The knight twisted away, gaining a few seconds, but the ogre was turning toward him.

  Char regained his feet and drew his sword. He and SEEf faced each other warily. Char spoke to me, his voice oddly loud.

  “Can you tame them again, Ella? If not, run and save yourself.”

  The question cleared my wits.

  “SEEf, NiSSh, ogre friends,” I called in Ogrese. “Why do you wish to destroy your benefactors? They have food for you, but they cannot give it to you until you do what they want.”

  The ogres stopped clawing and biting and pounding and lunging and kicking and looked at me trustfully.

  “Would you like to know what the food is?” I asked.

  “Please,” SEEf said.

  “The treat they have for you is a dozen baby giants only six months old.”

  They all smiled beatifically.

  “But these friends can’t bring the feast unless you let them tie and gag you. When they bring out the infants, they’ll remove your bindings. So seat yourselves and hold out your arm
s and legs. They will be gentle.”

  Only NiSSh remained standing, looking dazed.

  “Sit,” SEEf commanded.

  NiSSh sat. The tying and gagging was completed quickly. Then the ogres were bound together, treatment that they endured cheerfully.

  “Ella …” Char swept a deep bow. He’d grown taller. “How did you tame the ogres?” His voice was too loud again.

  “I’m skilled at tongues, and—”

  “I can’t hear you. Oh, I forgot.” He extracted something from his ears—beeswax.

  “That’s why the ogres’ magic had no effect on you.”

  “Once we sight ogres, we always put the wax in. The danger is being caught unawares.”

  Char said that one of the knights, acting as a scout, had seen me. “He reported that a band of ogres was about to eat a maiden when she talked them to sleep. How did you do it?”

  “I told them about finishing school, and they began to snore.”

  “Truly?” Char stared at me, then laughed.

  It was delightful to make him laugh. He was always so surprised.

  “How did you really do it?” he persisted.

  “I spoke to them in Ogrese, and I imitated their oily way of talking. I didn’t know if I would succeed. They had already parceled me up. I knew which one was going to eat every bit of me. SEEf—that one—wanted my leg.”

  Char moved his own right leg. “How did they come upon you?”

  I told him I had run away from finishing school. “They caught me when I left the elves. They ate the pony the elves gave me.” I shuddered.

  “Was finishing school so wearisome that you had to run away?” he asked.

  “Very wearisome, and see what it’s done to me. I can no longer break a set of dishes by accident. Now I can balance all of them on my head and stroll through Frell without dropping a single one. I have many accomplishments.”

  “Are you proud of them?” He was alarmed.

  I nodded solemnly. I wanted to make him laugh again. “Would you like to know more?”

  He shrugged, disliking the topic.

  I went on anyway. “To begin with, I could teach these boorish ogres how to eat properly.” I seated myself on a large rock. “Observe.” I plucked an imaginary napkin out of the air, shook it twice, and placed it on my lap.

  “Very ladylike,” Char said politely.

  “I shake the napkin twice. That’s important.”

  “Why?”

  “Mice.”

  Char smiled. “There are no mice in our court napkins. You are thinking of spiders.”

  “The prince contradicts a lady!” I picked up an imaginary fork and began to saw at imaginary food.

  “Your meat is tough. You have a low regard for our cooks.”

  “Not at all. It should be tough. Don’t you know why?”

  “Tell me.”

  “It is mutton. Am I not using a mutton fork? Our Manners Mistress will believe you’re an impostor if you don’t recognize a mutton fork when …”

  “When I don’t see one.” He was laughing.

  “It could only be a mutton fork!”

  “How so?”

  “See how my fingers are bunched together at the top of the stem.” I reached up and caught Char’s hand. It was square and large.

  I extended my index finger. “My finger is the fork. You grasp it so.” I arranged his fingers around mine. His grip was firm. “That’s the only correct way to hold a mutton fork. A trout fork is managed differently.” I turned his hand over to demonstrate. Angry red welts ran across his palm. “The rope burned you!”

  He pulled his hand away. “It’s nothing. One of the knights is a healer. What else did your Manners Mistress teach you?”

  I wanted to examine the burn more closely, but I continued. “Manners Mistress knew your father’s opinion about everything. She said he would exile any subject who ate blancmange from a soup bowl. As a result of her instruction, I can never make such a mistake.”

  “Does my father have a special spoon for raspberries and one for blueberries?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Why wasn’t I informed?”

  “You should hire Manners Mistress. She would die of delight to serve a prince.”

  I went on to describe all our mistresses. “Writing Mistress was the only one who taught anything worth knowing,” I concluded, “although it is helpful to know the proper way to behave, so one can decide whether or not to be proper.”

  On the word “proper,” Char started. “I should have introduced you long ago to my knights.” He called to them. “Friends—John, Aubrey, Bertram, Percival, Martin, Stephan—meet our ogre tamer. She’s the lass I told you about, the one who speaks Gnomic.”

  He had told them about me! I curtsied.

  “We wondered when you would remember your manners,” the one named Stephan said.

  SEEf made a garbled noise through his gag. For a moment I had forgotten him. Char went to the ogres, and I followed.

  “So much as you are our friends, so much are we your friends,” he said. “But we won’t kill you unless you force us to.”

  For an instant, SEEf looked dumbstruck. Then he began to struggle violently against his bonds. The other ogres did likewise, and shrieked through their gags as well.

  The ropes held, and they quieted slowly.

  SEEf glared at me with such rage and hate that I fell back a step. I held his gaze, however.

  “You are never going to eat me,” I told him in Ogrese. “I am not an ‘it.’ And I’m not your dinner. And how do you like being tricked into doing what you don’t want to do?”

  Telling them felt wonderful. I smiled at Char. For some reason, he blushed.

  While Char and I addressed the ogres, the knights were busy setting out lunch for all of us. When we were seated, we delayed our first bite until Char began to eat. It was so natural to him I doubted he noticed. Over traveler’s bread, cheese, dried meats, and sweet cider, he told me about his mission to help King Jerrold.

  “The king will be glad to see this lot. Eight ogres and no injury to us.” Sir Stephan nodded at the ogres, who were struggling anew at the sight of our meal.

  “He’ll be interested to learn that humans can use their magic against them,” Char said. “At least Ella can.”

  “Whenever he finds out.” Sir Bertram frowned. “How will we convey them to King Jerrold?”

  “No need for your melancholy, Sir Bert,” Sir John said. “With this maid’s help, we just caught eight ogres. Six knights never did that before.”

  “We’ll think of something,” Char said.

  “They’ll have to be fed.” Sir Bertram reached for the bread.

  “And you’re the best hunter we have, Sir Bert,” Char said, and the knight’s expression lightened.

  “Ogres can move quickly,” Sir Martin said. “It shouldn’t take too long to reach the king.”

  “I’ve been told they can outrun a horse,” Sir Stephan added. “A centaur too. Even a hart.”

  While Char and the knights discussed ogre transport, I thought about the wedding and despaired of getting there in time. It was three days from now, and I was even farther from the giants than I had been when the ogres had captured me. If I walked, I would arrive weeks late. And then I remembered NiSSh’s order not to run away. I could not leave anyway.

  Sir Bertram’s gloomy voice penetrated my thoughts. “We’ll have to drag them. And how can we do that?”

  “The young lady can tell them to go wherever we say,” Sir Aubrey said. “She can come with us and keep them biddable.”

  “Let the prince tell us what to do,” Sir Stephan said. “He knows.”

  Char spoke confidently. “You, Stephan, will escort the Lady Ella to her destination, wherever that is. Martin and Percival will ride to my father for assistance. Sir Bert, Aubrey, John, and I shall take turns hunting and guarding the ogres. We’ll put the wax back in our ears when we are within earshot of them in case their gags slip.”
br />   “I’d rather stay with you, lad,” Sir Martin said.

  “You and Percival are our best scouts. We’ll depend on you to get through quickly.”

  Sir Martin nodded.

  “The maiden will be safe with me,” Sir Stephan vowed. “I’ll—”

  “Unless he talks her to death,” Sir Aubrey interrupted. “You don’t know him, lady. His speech stops only when the stars shine green in a yellow sky.”

  “He’ll be a better companion than ogres,” Char said. “But, Ella, why didn’t you go back to Frell when you left finishing school?”

  “My father is trading at a giant’s farm, where a wedding will take place soon. He wrote that giants’ weddings are interesting. I thought I’d join him there.”

  Char marveled. “You put yourself in such danger in order to see a wedding?”

  He thought me a fool.

  Sir Bertram spoke. “It’s fortunate that all the maidens in Kyrria do not decide to travel by themselves. We have work enough without having to rescue them.”

  “If all the maids in Kyrria could tame ogres,” Char said, “we would have much less to do.”

  Perhaps not such a fool, after all.

  After lunch Sir Stephan mounted his horse, and Char lifted me behind him. As soon as he did, my curse-caused complaints began. In a moment I was going to fall off the horse. The curse wasn’t going to let me abandon the ogres.

  “I don’t like to leave you in danger,” I said, starting to dismount.

  “Go with Sir Stephan,” said Char. “We won’t come to harm.”

  It was an order. I could go. My symptoms stopped.

  Char caught the horse’s bridle. “Will you soon be in Frell again?”

  “If Father doesn’t send me back to finishing school, and if he doesn’t want me to travel with him.” Why did he want to know? Did he want me to be? “Why do you ask?”

  He didn’t answer directly. “I should be back shortly. These maneuvers never last long.” He spoke as though he’d been on thousands.

  “Perhaps I’ll see you soon then, and you can tell me about the other ogres you catch.”

  “Perhaps you can teach me how to tame an ogre.”

  “ahthOOn SSyng!” I said. “That’s farewell.”

  “It sounds evil.”

  “It is,” I answered, and we parted.