"Is it a very big dragon?" I called through the door.
"No, it's quite small as dragons go," Queen Frazzela called back. "But what possible difference could that make?"
"Quite a bit, actually. A large dragon would never fit in the buttery."
"You don't understand," said the queen. "We can't have dragons in the castle! I've come to ask you to talk some sense into him."
"Who, Eadric or Ralf?" I asked. "I agree that Ralf shouldn't have come by himself. He's too young to travel this far without his parents. I think Eadric was right, though. Ralf will be fine in the buttery."
"You'll have to excuse us now," my mother told Queen Frazzela. "The ceremony will begin soon and Emma isn't nearly ready." I smiled when she shut the door firmly in the spluttering queen's face.
My gown was everything a bride could want. It was made of a finely woven cream-colored fabric that hugged my hips and fell to my feet in soft folds. The three seamstresses had embroidered the hem and cuffs with gold and green threads, using designs of vines and flowers. My mother had given me a heavy gold chain to wear low on my hips and a more delicate one to wear around my neck. Lucy took great pride in dressing my hair, brushing it until it glowed and looping a third and even finer gold chain through it. My mother then produced a gold circlet that she set on my head. It was the closest thing I'd ever had to a crown, but far lighter than what my parents wore for formal events. When they had finished, I felt beautiful and everyone assured me that I was.
We waited until Grassina brought me a lush bouquet of roses, lilacs, and lilies, then my mother led the way down the stairs to the Great Hall. The fairies caught my eye right away. Wearing their best and brightest clothes, they would have been dazzling if the sun hadn't already started to set and the Hall hadn't been lit with torches. I saw flower fairies lined up on the window ledges tickling each other and giggling. The ones sitting on the garlands were harder to see because their flower-petal skirts blended in with the brightly colored blossoms. Most of the larger fairies were gathered together at the sides of the Hall as if so many humans made them uncomfortable, although I did see a few scattered fairies seated among the other guests. One fairy was dressed all in moonbeams that made her seem less real than the fairies around her. Another wore a trailing gown of willow leaves that shivered when she moved. The gown of a third was made of violets, the blossoms having been sewn together so carefully that they remained unblemished.
I was ready when my father took my arm to walk me the length of the room. I could hear people murmuring and the priest clearing his throat, but the loudest sound was that of my own heart. Glancing from side to side, I looked to see who was there, my smile frozen in place. I saw Haywood and Grassina gazing at each other with love in their eyes. Hortense was already crying, as was Oculura, who dabbed at her eyes, then took them out and replaced them with fresh ones. Dyspepsia was muttering to her sister about the lateness of the wedding, how she didn't like going home in the dark and how itchy her new gown felt. King Bodamin smiled warmly at me, oblivious to his wife, who stood beside him trying to take a straw away from Bradston. The boy was using the straw to poke the bubbles that covered the gown of the fairy next to him. My grandmother looked wistful and my mother looked distracted, as if she were thinking of a hundred things about my wedding that she wished she had done differently.
And then I looked straight ahead and saw Eadric, and suddenly I didn't have eyes for anything else. He was standing beside the much shorter priest and looked so handsome that I felt my heart skip a beat. His cream-colored tunic and hose had been embroidered in gold and green to match my gown, and a gold circlet identical to mine held his brown curls back from his forehead. But even if he hadn't been dressed in such finery, he would have been the handsomest man there.
When I finally stood beside Eadric, I began to feel shaky and a little light-headed. Eadric must have seen something in the way I looked, because he took my hand and squeezed it. His hand felt warm in mine, and was as reassuring as always.
The priest was young and nervous. He started with a speech that sounded memorized, saying that although love wasn't essential, it was an important building block in the foundation of a good marriage. Eadric squeezed my hand when the priest paused. We turned to see what he was looking at and saw Li'l and Garrid nestled in the shadow of a banner.
The priest started over, then got as far as the next building block, loyalty, before losing his place again. A minor scuffle had broken out when one of the guards had stepped on Ralf's tail. It seemed to take forever before the priest reached the third element, friendship.
Eadric squeezed my hand once more and I returned the pressure, knowing that all three building blocks were already ours. The priest hadn't said anything that we didn't already know. Eadric must have thought so, too, because he winked at me and grinned. After that I missed half of what the priest said because I was looking into Eadric's eyes and remembering how they had looked on the day we met. He had been a frog and I'd thought he was obnoxious. Back then I never would have imagined that I would marry him, or that I could love anyone so much.
The priest droned on, interjecting the appropriate questions here and there. I suppose I must have said what I needed to, because before I knew it he was saying, "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride," and Eadric was. It was a long kiss, a warm and sweet kiss full of shared memories and the promise of things to come. It would have lasted even longer if a soldier hadn't clattered into the hall and barged past the assembled guests to King Bodamin's side.
Although the soldier spoke in a lowered tone, I heard everything he said. "We have a situation, Your Majesty. A patrol has sighted trolls carrying clubs coming this way in great numbers. Should we raise the drawbridge?"
"By all means!" exclaimed King Bodamin. "Hurry, man, go give the order."
Apparentiy I wasn't the only one to hear him, because the fairies and some of the witches began repeating what the soldier had said. He had already gone, but as word spread, knights began to hurry from the Hall as well.
Of the people who remained, the fairies seemed the most agitated. Eadric and I were still standing in front of the priest when one of the fairies from Upper Montevista fluttered her wings and flew over the heads of the other guests to join us. "We apologize, Your Highnesses, but we must go," she said. "We are grateful that you invited us to help celebrate your wedding. However, we believe that the trolls are about to attack this castie. As we must preserve our neutrality in such matters, we think it best that we leave before any fighting begins."
"You're leaving?" Eadric said, sounding incredulous.
The fairy nodded. "Unfortunately. We'll return when the battle is over, provided that the castle is still here. Congratulations on your wedding. It was a lovely ceremony." The fairy raised her hand as a signal to the rest. Within a minute, there wasn't a fairy left in the castle.
"I can't believe it," said Queen Frazzela. "That was the rudest behavior I've ever seen! They accept our gracious invitation, enjoy our hospitality, then can't be bothered to help us when we most need it. I knew all along that we shouldn't have invited them!"
Bradston tugged on her sleeve. "But you said . . ."
"Never mind," the queen snapped, looking doubly annoyed. "Some things do not bear repeating."
Fifteen
The approach of the trolls made it impossible for anyone to leave by conventional means, which meant that everyone not charged with defending the castle had to gather in the Great Hall or other rooms of the keep, the most defensible area. As it was dark out, Eadric and I collected torches to carry up to the battlements to learn what we could. Ralf wanted to accompany us, but we convinced him that he could help more by staying behind to protect the women and children. He decided that this meant watching over Bradston and his mother, so he plopped down in front of them and growled when anyone came near. Queen Frazzela nearly fainted the first time he did this, although Bradston seemed delighted with the little dragon.
W
hen they saw us going, Grassina, Haywood, and my grandmother followed us to the courtyard and up the steps to the battlements, where my father and King Bodamin were already watching the trolls. Neither of them seemed too worried at first. "They can't do anything from there," said Bodamin as the trolls jumped up and down and shouted at us from the far side of the gap separating the ridge from Castle Peak.
While the trolls milled around, lighting torches and bumping into each other, a few of the old witches from the retirement community joined us. The witches were trying to guess what the trolls would do next when the troll queen strode down the middle of the ridge, pushing aside anyone who got in her way. Although she was shorter than most of them, she had more heads than any of the rest. Even the bigger trolls seemed to be afraid of her. When she reached the point on the ridge where the drawbridge would have landed had we set it down, she stopped and shouted with all four heads at once, "King Bodamin!" The volume was impressive, even from so far away.
"That's the troll queen," I told him. "I think the second head from the right is in charge. Its name is Fatlippia."
"What kind of a name is that?" said the king. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted back, "What do you want? Why are you here?"
"We want prince!" shouted Fatlippia.
King Bodamin's eyes went hard and his hands squeezed into fists. "Never!" he shouted. Turning his back on the queen, he told us, "She's not getting Bradston back, even if she lays siege to this castle for a hundred years!"
"Then we come get him!" screamed the head called Ingabinga. "That prince ours! He promise marry queen!" The troll queen turned and was storming away when the strawberry-blonde head called Tizzy looked over her shoulder and stuck out her tongue.
"Marry!" said King Bodamin. "I can't believe Bradston would promise to marry her."
"I don't think he did," said Eadric.
A new troll had arrived and was barking orders, arranging the troll army in a raggedy line. He had two heads like the one who had seemed to be in charge during their attack near the stream—the one who had held the magic-seeing ball. We were wondering what he had planned when he shouted something at the first troll in the line, gesturing from him to us. The troll balked at what must have been an order. When he didn't move, the commanding troll shouted at the second troll. The two trolls squabbled, then the second shoved the first over the edge of the causeway.
The commanding troll barked his order again. Now that the second troll was at the head of the line, he didn't seem to like the order any better than the first had. Instead of waiting for the troll behind to push him, however, he shouted at his commander, then jumped as far as he could with his arms flailing as if they could carry him all the way to where we stood. They didn't, of course, and we watched as he passed out of sight, wailing the whole way down.
"What are they thinking?" my father said as the trolls continued to line up and jump. None of the trolls was getting anywhere near us, yet that didn't seem to deter their commanding troll. One by one they leaped and fell wailing onto the rocks below.
"Trolls don't think," said King Bodamin. "Their brains are smaller than ours."
Eadric had been leaning over the edge of the batdement with a torch in his hand, trying to see farther down Castie Peak. "Emma, could you make me some witches' lights?" he asked when the torch wasn't enough. Whatever moon was out that night was hidden behind the mountain looming above us. Aside from a few twinkling stars, the only light was what we provided. After I'd made him a score of lights, he had me send some of the glowing balls down into the ravine separating Castle Peak from the ridge. Peering over the edge again, he grunted and stepped back. "Look down there," he said, pointing. "Their brains may be smaller, but some of them can think just fine."
From where we stood on the battlement, if we craned our necks just right and leaned out just so, we could see where some of the trolls had landed. Instead of splatting on the rocks, they had grabbed hold and were climbing hand over hand.
"Does anyone know how they're doing that?" asked my father.
When no one could answer him, Grassina took out her farseeing ball and asked to see one of the climbing trolls. The image in the ball was small, but it was enough to see that the troll was digging his long fingernails into the rock itself, not even bothering to look for crevices.
"Wow," said Eadric. "If their nails are that strong, it's no wonder they're so long. They probably can't even be cut! Look at those trolls go!"
Nearly a dozen trolls had climbed into view, and more appeared as we watched. I glanced at their commander and saw that he was still ordering the trolls over the edge one at a time. Some wailed, but the more resigned ones fell silently.
"I know what to do," said King Bodamin, and he turned to an officer awaiting his orders. They spoke for just a moment, then the officer strode off and the king returned to where we stood. "Now watch," he said. "This should take care of them."
While some soldiers ran down a ramp, others began shooting arrows at the trolls, moving so quickly that the projectiles looked like a swarm of oversized wasps. The arrows bounced off the trolls' backs, although one went straight into the open mouth of a troll who was looking up. He bit down, then smiled, grabbed the next arrow that came near him, and devoured it, too.
Within a few minutes, the first group of soldiers returned, lugging a pot of boiling oil up the ramp. Hauling it to the edge of the parapet, they poured it over the edge onto the trolls below. We could hear the oil splashing on the rocks, but none of the trolls fell, and not one made a sound when the boiling oil drenched them.
"That won't do anything except clean them off and make them smell better," said my grandmother. "Their skin is much thicker than ours, more hide than skin really. It can't be cut, pierced, or burned, unless of course you have a magical ax made specifically to use on trolls." She glanced at King Bodamin. "I don't suppose anyone here has . . ." When he shook his head, Grandmother sighed. "No, I didn't think so. Perhaps we could hold them off until dawn, when daylight will turn them to stone."
King Bodamin snorted.
"I admit that you don't see stone trolls very often," said Grandmother. "Trolls are very conscious of what their fate would be if they didn't get under cover before the sun came up. That's why they attack only at night."
"This has to work," said King Bodamin. His brow was creased and his eyes were hooded when he came back from speaking with his officer a second time. Instead of talking to us, he went to the parapet and leaned over to watch.
The soldiers tried boiling oil again, sending the contents of a dozen enormous pots onto the heads of the trolls. When that didn't work, they tried pot after pot of boiling water. When they ran out of water, they poured dirty water from scrubbing the kitchen floor and the remnants of a cream-based soup that had gone bad the day before but hadn't been thrown out yet. None of this fazed the trolls, who just kept climbing higher.
The king had his men try stones next. The smaller gravel sounded like rushing water when it fell, tumbling over the trolls and clearing off debris. The larger ones bounced against Castle Peak, breaking off chunks. The largest stones knocked a few trolls off the wall, but they just started climbing all over again.
"There must be something you can do," King Bodamin said to Grandmother, Grassina, Haywood, and me. "Some magic that would get rid of them. We know you can turn people into frogs. Can't you turn trolls into something equally harmless?"
"We could try," said Grandmother, "but it wouldn't make any real difference. Our magic doesn't work on trolls the same way it does humans."
King Bodamin's face flushed red. "I know how it is! This isn't your castle, so you don't care what happens to it. You can just fly away on your broomsticks and leave us here to face them when they . . ."
"Oh, all right," said Grandmother, sounding exasperated. "I'll show you what I mean. Do you see that horrid-looking fellow with the big ears? Watch what happens to him."
The troll she was talking about had almost reached the base o
f the castle itself. He was reaching for his next fingernail-hold when Grandmother cast a spell to turn him into a mouse. The troll paused for a moment, swatting at the air around his head as if a swarm of flies was bothering him, then continued to climb. We all peered down at him, wondering if anything had happened. As he came closer, we saw that he had changed, but not the way the king had wanted. His ears, usually big and pointed, were now small and rounded., His face had become pointier with a row of tiny teeth, and a long, thin tail sprouted from a hole in the seat of his pants. Unfortunately, he was as big and mean and troll-like as ever.
"All right," said King Bodamin. "You can't change the trolls themselves, but surely you can do something else."
"We could call up a storm," I said. "Although I doubt it would do much."
"A storm . . . Yes, that might work," said the king. "A big, fierce storm that will blow them from here to tomorrow."
"All right," I said, "but everyone who isn't a witch has to go inside. A storm strong enough to blow trolls off the side of a mountain will most certainly be strong enough to blow you away as well."
King Bodamin protested, as did Eadric and my father. I relented and let them stay as long as they tied themselves down, but insisted that the soldiers leave, saying that I wouldn't begin until they did. When everyone was ready, I started the storm by myself; then the other witches joined in, adding their strength to mine. It was impressive, with winds that sent boulders flying like specks of dust and ripped the words from our mouths before we could speak.
The other witches and I used magic to keep us in place, so I was able to look over the edge to see how the storm had affected the trolls. Most of them had stopped climbing. Although the trolls" fingernails were still embedded in the rock, the rest of their bodies were flapping like clean laundry in the wind. Only the trolls who had thought quickly enough to use their toenails as well were making any headway, but slowly because they had to move one foot or hand at a time.