Chapter Thirty-Five
Reputations
It didn’t take long for Anne to find out that Prince Carl’s shoulder was dislocated. Apart from a split lip, a bump on the head, and a bloody nose, it seemed to be his worst injury. The second thing she found out was that Carl was in no way going to let her do anything about it without a struggle.
“You big baby!” she scolded him. “I’ve been fixing dislocated shoulders for years! One quick pull and twist and it will all be over!”
“Aye! And my arm will be in my lap!” Prince Carl replied. He was much more awake now, but still in obvious pain. “You will leave me alone! I command it!”
Anne glanced at the girls. “Grab him!”
Prince Carl tried to get away as the four girls pounced, but it was too late.
“Harm me and I’ll have your heads!” he bellowed more in fear than in pain as Paula and Linda held his good arm while Christine and Jo sat on him.
Anne took his injured arm and shoulder, placing her own arm under his armpit, and with a quick jerk, it was all over as she had promised. There was an audible snap, Carl roared with pain, and then Anne let go of him.
“There!” she said with a broad smile. “Done! It works every time!”
The girls released him and Carl quickly felt his shoulder. To his surprise it did feel better. He moved it around. It was still sore, but definitely better. His surprise showed on his face.
“You are a marvel,” he told her. “A Palace physician could not have done better.”
Anne glowed with her success. “You don’t spend three years as a P.E teacher at a girl’s grammar without knowing how to deal with the odd injury or two.”
Christine said, “Like when Becky knocked out Hannah on the hockey pitch!”
And Jo added, “Or that time Celia got the javelin in her foot!”
The girls laughed at the thought of that one.
Then Linda said, “Yeah! Berni kept telling her to move back so that she could get a better score!”
Now all four girls roared with laughter and fell about.
Prince Carl stared at them in wonder. Such pretty young girls, and so scantily clad. They all wore the same short grey skirt and white shirt with a woollen tunic. And they were all so forward, not timid or shy in any way. He had never met such girls before. He looked up at Anne. She was also very forward. She cared nothing for his rank, or for her own reputation, locked away with him in this dungeon. But what kind of woman was she, to be alone with four girls?
“Who are you?” he asked her. “Tell me your names and how you came to be here in the dungeons of Sir Henry L’Crieff.”
Anne had to wait for the girls to calm down before she did the introductions. Carl stared at her closely as she settled them down and told them to behave. She looked young, he thought, but she must have been older than she looked to have had so many children.
Anne Jenkins had short brown hair and brown eyes. Her complexion was tanned, revealing an out-door life. Her nose and mouth were pleasing, as was her figure. She was tall and she looked fit and strong.
Prince Carl liked the way she looked, and he liked her dress. It was short, not as short as the girls, but short enough for him to see more of her legs as she scrambled about on the floor of the dungeon. He liked her tanned legs, they were long and shapely. Yes, he liked what he saw, and although he wouldn’t admit it, he liked the way Anne spoke to him and the way she behaved so boldly. She wasn’t like the women at court. They had never appealed to him. They were too soft, too pampered. Carl liked his women to be harder, more head-strong, more like–
With sudden shame, Carl remembered Rolf’s words and realised that he had always killed those he liked. It brought on a sombre mood, and it grew as Anne introduced each girl in turn.
Jo was the first. She was quite small, with red, almost ginger coloured hair and very fair skin. She had freckles and green eyes. She was pretty and shy, and she smiled coyly as she was introduced.
Paula was more forward; she stared back at Prince Carl with a strong expression. She wasn’t scared of him, and she wasn’t shy. She had brown hair like Anne, but it was longer and tied into a ponytail at the back. Her eyes were blue, and although her expression was often harsh, her features were soft. Only when she laughed did her face become pleasing.
Christine was blonde haired and blue-eyed. She was quite slim and tall. Her hair was long and curly, and she kept brushing it back from her face. She had a slightly square jaw-bone that gave her face a strength of character that her blushes contradicted as Anne introduced her.
Linda was the tallest and the shapeliest of the four girls. Her hair was jet black and her eyes dark brown. She had a mischievous expression when she smiled, and she smiled often.
Carl wondered about their ages. They were all young, far too young. He could tell that by just looking at them. But the way they behaved and spoke seemed much older. They were all close to womanhood, and none of them would have been turned away by a man in his right mind unless he was blind or dead. But they seemed so bold and brazen. Even Anne. Where had such a woman and her girls come from?
As Prince Carl wondered about Anne and the girls, they all wondered about him. When he had been thrust into the dungeon with them so suddenly, they had thought he was attacking them, that he was one of their captors, like Sir Morgan. But it didn’t take them long to realise that he was just as much a prisoner as they were. And despite his arrogant air and bluster, Anne was warming to him.
Carl had blue eyes and short blonde hair, and his features were strong and rugged. He was probably in his late twenties. Anne guessed at his height. He was taller than her, maybe six-foot?
Now that he was sat up and wide awake, and the pain in his shoulder had gone, he looked quite handsome. But his face was marred by the cuts and bruises and the blood and dirt that still clung to it. Anne reacted without thought. She tore part of her sleeve from her battered blouse and wiped his face. He looked startled, but then noticed the blood and took the ragged cloth from her gratefully.
“Thank you,” he said and finished the job as she watched.
Linda got him some water from the bucket and offered it to him. He thanked her and drank thirstily.
It was the last moment of respite the Prince received. After that, Anne and the girls talked him to death, asking him questions about everything. They asked him about where they were, who their captors were, what was going on, even what time and day it was.
At first, Carl was less inclined to answer their questions. He was the Crown Prince after all, and he wasn’t used to conversing with the occupants of dungeons. But Carl was also a realist. He was as much an occupant of the dungeon as they were, and who was he to say that they were any less deserved to be here than he? Now that they knew he was a friend rather than their enemy, they seemed friendly enough. And he was also intrigued by their style of dress and by their strange accents. And how could they not have heard of him?
Prince Carl answered their questions, telling them about Ellerkan, the castle and those that ruled it. But he also had his own questions to ask, and he was just as surprised as they had been at his answers when he heard theirs.
“You had fifteen girls?” he said incredulously.
Anne nodded. “Yes, but we got separated and now I’m worried sick. I know that Debbie and Samantha were brought to the castle with us, but I don’t know what happened to the others at all. I’m so worried and I feel so bloody helpless!”
Prince Carl could sense her anger at her predicament and the loss of her children. “How did you come to be in the forest on your own?”
Anne told him how they were driving back to Manchester when they ended up in the forest, crashed into a tree. Carl understood very little of her story, but what he did understand clarified his thoughts.
“Ah! You are off-worlders,” he said, nodding at last. “Now I understand your strangeness and your lack of recognition of my name and rank. I forgive you for this. But from
now on you must refer to me as ‘My Liege’, or ‘Sire’. And you must bow.”
Paula wasn’t impressed by his demands. “Knickers!” she retorted without delay.
And Christine said, “If you think we’re going to treat you any differently than us, you must be barmy!”
Prince Carl was openly annoyed at their denial of his rank. “This is treason! You must show me respect or I will have you punished!”
Anne knelt in front of him and folded her arms. “Go on, then!” she urged him. “Have us punished! Just click your fingers and do it! Go on!”
Prince Carl stared at her, understanding her meaning. He didn’t reply, but Anne wasn’t going to let him off that easily.
“That’s right!” she said. “You can’t do it, can you? And why? Because you’re a prisoner in here just like us. So stop acting all toffee-nosed and get with it, or you’ll end up last in the queue when they throw dinner through the door!”
Prince Carl looked like he was going to sulk, but Anne and the girls didn’t give him the time. They asked more questions, and if he showed signs of not answering, Paula kicked his foot. It began to annoy Carl, until finally; he could stand it no longer.
“Can you not control your children better?” he snapped at Anne, holding on to his foot. “They are badly behaved and insolent!”
“They are not insolent!” Anne replied. “They’ve been through a lot! They’ve lost all their friends and they’re all alone! How do you expect them to behave?”
“As well brought up children should behave! If they were my children I would be ashamed! Ashamed of them and ashamed of you for bringing them up so badly! Where was your husband? Why were you travelling alone?”
Anne was momentarily confused. “I don’t have a husband,” she said, shaking her head.
“There!” Prince Carl said triumphantly. “No wonder they behave as they do! They are fatherless! There is no authority in their lives! You are the one who should be shamed! Unmarried, with fifteen children! You are a brazen woman, Anne Jenkins!”
The girls sniggered, and despite her attempts not to, Anne felt her face growing red.
“But they’re not actually my children. I’m their teacher, that’s all. I thought I told you?”
Now Carl was confused. “When you described how you came to be in Ellerkan, you called them your children. Now you tell me they are not?”
“No, I’m just their teacher. I’m responsible for them, but I’m not their mother.”
The girls were now openly giggling, and even Carl’s face was beginning to colour.
“I thought–” Prince Carl began, and then stopped.
Anne was beginning to realise exactly what he had been thinking, and told him so.
“You thought I’d had fifteen children! Fifteen bloody children! I’m only twenty-four! How could I have fifteen children? How old do you think I am?”
Prince Carl made the mistake of telling her. Anne was outraged, and she began to hit him.
“Thirty-five! I’m going to kill you!”
Prince Carl tried to protect himself from her blows, protesting at the same time.
“It is not a reflection of your looks! Forgive me! It was an honest mistake! I merely assumed and calculated accordingly! Forgive me, please! You are a beautiful young woman, and I was blind not to see the truth!”
“You’ll have to do better than that!” Anne replied as she continued to hit him, but she liked hearing his excuses.
The girls were now rolling about laughing. Jo was in tears, and Linda was laughing so much she could hardly breathe.
It was then that the door opened, when they were least expecting it. The girls all jumped in fright as men-at-arms came in, some carrying trays, as usual. This time Sir Morgan was with them, and when he saw Anne by the Prince’s side he quickly darted forward and grabbed her, pulling her away.
Anne struggled and kicked furiously. “Let go!” she demanded, but Sir Morgan hung on to her.
“Remember my promise, wench!” he warned her, holding her tightly around the waist, his other hand at her throat. “Continue your struggles and I will keep that promise!”
Prince Carl saw the look of distress on Anne’s face as her struggles lessened. He stood up to go to her aid, only to be roughly pushed back to the floor by Sir Morgan’s men. They stood over him with their swords, pointing them at his chest. Prince Carl stared angrily at Sir Morgan.
“You are no gentleman, Sir Morgan L’Ajarn!” he snapped. “You hide behind the swords of three men while you terrorize women and children! You are a coward! Face me and prove me wrong! I dare you!”
Sir Morgan smiled. He stared at Prince Carl, but he spoke to Anne. His face was pressed against hers, and he whispered into her ear, “I see you have not wasted time in getting to know one another. He speaks for you. What have you promised him in return, eh? The use of your body, freely given? Or maybe one of your girls? The blonde one perhaps?”
Anne twisted in his arms. “You make me sick!”
Sir Morgan held her even tighter. “You think I am the evil one? Then you should know more about your Prince. He kills women for pleasure!”
The look of surprise and shock on the faces of Anne and the girls delighted Sir Morgan. He forced Anne’s head further back, so that he could stare right into her face.
“You did not know? Did he not tell you this?” Sir Morgan’s voice grew bitter. “All of the Realm knows of his exploits; they know of his great feats in battle against the Destroyers! He accuses me of cowardice, of hiding behind the swords of my men! Ask him how he triumphs on the Hunt! Ask him how he stands alone against his mighty foes! Ha! They bristle with arrows before he even dares to dismount!”
Sir Morgan suddenly threw Anne to the floor. She landed in a heap, in total disarray. She rolled over and stared up at Sir Morgan. He looked demonic, his face twisted in anger.
“When I come for you, I will come alone! And unlike your noble Prince, I will leave you breathing!” He turned to his men. “Out!”
Sir Morgan left, his men following closely after him, and the door grated shut.
There was sudden silence in the dungeon as Anne and the girls turned to stare at Prince Carl. They expected him to deny it all, to be loud and vocal in his anger at such a false and dreadful accusation. But instead he kept silent and his expression saddened them.