Rose meets her mother, the Queen

Outside the castle, Rose and her mother fell into each other’s arms laughing and crying.

After several minutes, the Queen stepped back. “Oh Rose, you are all right? You look wonderful – are these the latest fashions you’re sporting? A dragon? Is it safe? And a bear? We did hope that our plane could open to other magical folk if the royals were not around to prevent it – I guess it worked? I am so glad to see you! I hoped you had gotten safe away – I hoped you would find friends – but I didn’t expect dragons and bears. Tell me everything that happened!”

“I will,” Rose said, “but there’s so much! I’m fine, I feel splendid! I feel as though I’ve just shed a load of, I don’t know, invisible cotton wool that kept me from seeing straight or thinking straight. And it’s such an interesting world – I can go places, do new things every hour of the day, and I already have friends!

“This is Toby;” Rose went on, “she’s my friend and legal counsel. They have laws now – I mean we have laws now – not just what Daddy and the uncles dream up this fortnight, but ones that make sense, and stay the same, so everyone can know about them. So Toby is safe, sort of, because one of the root laws is that the creatures who can talk mustn’t kill and eat each other, at least not without very good reason. The root laws are easy to remember, but then there are little laws shooting up from all the roots, and it isn’t always easy to see how they would apply. So they – so we have courts with judges who have studied the law for a long time, not just sleepy royals not bothering to listen. And we have legal counsel – I have Toby – to advise us, and represent us in the court.

“This is Broad,” Rose went on. “He isn’t always a bear, sometimes he’s almost human, and he’s an archivist. That’s something like Uncle Ernie, I guess, always with the books, and he tells great stories, like Uncle Ernie. How is Uncle Ernie?”

“Excited about finding out about the new century,” said the Queen. “He wants to leave and start exploring, of course, but I wanted to be sure it would be safe. He tends to forget that he is not 20 years old anymore. And these are your new friends?”

Rose introduced the others.

Minsky bowed deeply and said, “Is honour to meet Queen’s Majesty. Is proper to ask how is Great^15th Aunt Tatiana Alexandrova Minsky?”

“Is proper, sorry, I meant it is proper and she is fine,” said the Queen, producing Aunt Tatiana from her bag. Aunt and nephew circled each other warily, then came together in a clinch. The enlarged fur-ball started to roll down the hill side, but Toby whipped her tail in front to stop them. They separated, bowed, and strolled off together, presumably to become better acquainted.

Rose looked at her mother in surprise. “You knew about the Minskys?”

“Of course, dear. We couldn’t leave anything so important to chance. The Minskys are a very superior family of marsh-rat, royalty as marsh-rats calculate such things. I knew them when I was a child – our farm backed onto Maresdeath Marsh. I always heard that if they accepted an obligation, and it took ten thousand generations to discharge it, they would remember, and they would do it.

“‘We’ couldn’t leave . . .,” Rose repeated. “Who is ‘we’?”

“Aunt Nellie and I,” answered the Queen, “and family members who were helping us.”

“You mean,” cried Rose, “you conspired with the evil witch who put the curse on me when I was a baby?”

“No, dear,” said the Queen. “I conspired with a compassionate and wise woman to find a blessing for you. The court fairies were bragging for weeks, months, about the ‘gifts’ they were going to give you. As I listened, I understood the curse they were preparing for you. You were to be sweet and pretty but not smart. You would have grown up to become a vapid, compliant, tool for your father’s manipulation and for the ambitions and passions of whichever of your dreadful cousins he thought at the time it would be most advantageous to marry you to.”

“Well, you are right about the cousins,” said Rose, “they are dreadful. I knew that as I was waking up; I knew I had to get away. But before I went to sleep I thought they were kind of sweet. I wouldn’t have been upset to be married to one of them. I just didn’t relish having to choose which one. Now I think, ‘how horrible!’ What has happened to me? How did I change?”

“The fairy curses have worn off.”

“How could they? I was only asleep for an hour or so, in our enchanted time. I didn’t get old, you didn’t get old.”

“Such curses generally peter out after the perpetrator dies. That’s partly why we set the sleep for 100 years – all the fairies should have died (we made up reasons for not inviting them to your birthday party) and their curses should have waned.”

“But,” said Rose, “there’s something wrong with that ... the sleep spell; it should have ended when Old Witch Nellie, I mean Aunt Nellie, when she died.”

The Queen laughed and hugged her daughter again. “You are better! You would never have figured that out before the sleep.”

“So why didn’t the sleep spell fail, Mother? And I don’t know if anyone has told you – it wasn’t 100 years, it was 250 years. It lasted even longer than you planned.”

“250 years?” repeated the Queen.

“Yes, Ma’am,” said McLaren, “250 years. This is the Century of the Snail-Darter, the Decade of the Water Moccasin, the Year of the Monkey Climbing a Tree.”

“Oh,” said the Queen. “I’ll have to talk to Uncle Ernie about this.”

“Why, Mother?” Rose persisted.

“And next year?” asked the Queen, “what’s next year?”

“The Year of the Singing Rooster, Ma’am,” said McLaren.

“Mother, why?”

“I can’t answer now, dear. I have to think about this, and talk to Uncle Ernie.”

“I have to go back,” the Queen continued. “I’m so glad that it’s such an interesting age, with so many possibilities, that we’ve wakened into. But I’ve baggage...” She cleared her throat and continued, “I have responsibilities from before the sleep, that I’ve got to take care of.”

“Will it be safe for you to go back, Ma’am?” asked McLaren. “Some of your royal in-laws appear to be violent people – as we saw with Operetta Hal, good Prince Hal, I think you call him.”

“No, I never have called him Good Prince,” said the Queen. “That would not have occurred to me. What happened to him, by the way? His mother is frantic about him; I should have news to bring her.”

“He’s in jail,” said Broad. “He assaulted a serving person and instigated a riot in a tavern.”

“You can put him in jail for that? Lovely; we couldn’t. But the men with him?”

“In jail too, Ma’am.”

“And you can just leave them there?” asked the Queen.

“No,” said Toby. “The guard has laid charges – assault, resisting arrest, attacking the guard, riotous behaviour, reckless endangering, damage to property, and possibly a few others I don’t remember. The tavern keeper is going to claim damages, but I think he’s still adding them up. He wants to be sure that his claim is at least equal to the value of their horses – he kept the horses when they were taken off to jail. Everyone is entitled to a trial; a preliminary hearing within a fortnight, and, if necessary, a trial as soon as possible after that. Then the judge will decide if additional jail time is warranted. For charges like those, and assuming they’re clever enough to plead guilty, the sentence is generally only a year less a day, though the judge can decide to make it longer or shorter.”

“How much would it cost to get a 10-year sentence?” asked the Queen. “I suppose the prices of everything have changed over the sleep?”

“Actually,” said Toby, “more has changed than the prices. Sentences aren’t for sale anymore, or at least not openly. And some judges, like the Old Man, would put you in jail if you tried to pay him to change the length of a sentence.”

“Oh,” said the Queen, “It seems there may be more new things to get used to than I had expected. I hope that you will not think me foolish or ill-natured when I make little mistakes like this. Which reminds me, talking of changes, what has happened to the other castles in the meantime? Life would be a good deal less tense in Briar if we could send our royal cousins home. I am sure they are dying to be shut of us as well, but is there any place left for them to go?”

“Well,” said Broad slowly, “Brandyburg and Bupleurum have been kept up, improved even – but they have new owners who were allowed to acquire full title after the first hundred years. Thunderhall has tumbled into ruins, as far as we can see – ghosts are not good at maintenance. I spoke with one of the leaders at Thunderhall, and he explained that a building is more comfortable to ghosts when it is somewhat ghostly itself. He explained that what we see as ruins, they see as overlaid with architectural spirits and...”

“The royals?” Toby interrupted.

Broad shook himself, and continued, “Yes, of course, your royal guests will need a place to stay. We’d rather hoped that you could keep them at Briar Castle. No? Well, between the new owners and the village committees, I hope something can be worked out. Although, if the rest of your guests are no better behaved than Prince Hal, it could be that they will find comfortable though somewhat austere accommodations behind bars.”

“Ghosts? The ghosts took over Thunderhall? Excellent! The royals there were always quick to execute people on the flimsiest of pretences. They must have created whole armies of ghosts, over the centuries. It will serve them right, if they find that the poor things have turned on them! And the others?”

As Broad told her, she began to laugh. By the time he finished his brief account, she was rocking with laughter, gasping for breath between peals of mirth. “Lovely, lovely,” she said as she caught her breath, “I wish I could follow them home, and see what kind of receptions they get!

“But no more funny stories at the moment; I’ve got to be serious. Uncle Ernie charged me to ask you if there have been any time disturbances since the awakening. He thought there might be noticeable ripples, or even whirlwinds, dust-devil size. He thought they should die down, if Nellie’s anchors held. But he has always said that Nellie anchored forward to the Year of the Tiger Standing Still.”

“That funny storm cloud, that seemed to be following us as we came . . .” Rose’s voice trailed off.

Toby nodded. “It’s still there, west, near the horizon. If you look with your third eye, you’ll see that it is a time twister. And it’s not dispersing; that central coil is gaining energy.”

“I don’t have third eye,” the Queen pointed out. “Excuse my ignorance, please, but Rose, tell me, have you any idea if the dragon is reliable?”

Rose nodded. “Toby’s young, in people-years she’d be not much older than me. But everyone says how lucky I am to have her as my legal counsel. Everyone seems to believe she’s reliable, or at least does exceedingly well for her clients.”

“Excuse me, no offence meant,” the Queen said to Toby, “but I had to ask.”

“No offence taken,” Toby replied. “My Grandmamma says that ignorance is offensive only if the ignorant being does not seek to dispel it.”

“Your Grandmamma sounds like a very wise lady,” said the Queen. “But now, we need a plan. It seems we have a time-storm, gaining strength. Do any of you know how to disentangle it? Or does your current age have sages who might know?”

The friends looked at each other, and shook their heads. “We know of none such, Your Majesty,” Broad told her. “But your uncle, you speak as though he may know?”

“He may,” said the Queen, “but he is very old. He has little strength left. And I fear he would be in danger from my royal relatives if they had any reason to take notice of him. I would like to bring him to safety, if your world has safety to offer him.”

“Bupleurum Spa,” said Polly. “”If anyone can care for him, they can.”

“He is fragile as a dry leaf. He would need to be carried in a litter. One of my older women cares for him, knows what he requires. She would have to go, too.”

“The firm can arrange a suitable escort for this evening, if that would be acceptable,” Toby offered. “They will await him and his companion at the postern gate.”

“Indeed, I think he was expecting something like this. I believe he was packing his things the evening before Rose’s birthday. I shall convey your information to my guests, and to Uncle Ernie, forthwith.” With that, the Queen’s Majesty returned to Briar Castle, escorted by her detachment of guards.

Her royal relatives were not pleased that she had gone out without consulting them, and, more infamously, without obtaining the permission of her royal husband. Indeed, her disgraceful and ungrateful conduct had made His Majesty ill; it would not be surprising to them if she added the crime of regicide to her many other sins and crimes.

The Captain signalled the guard. The escort surrounding the Queen tripled in number, pushing back the angry royal guests. They expressed their hurt and indignation freely. If she persisted in treating them with such indignity, they would go. They would return to their royal homes, and it would be long before she could expect them to grace Briar Castle with another visit!

“We do thank your highnesses for your royal visit, and your splendid gifts to our daughter on the occasion of her coming of age,” the Queen told them through clenched teeth. “But we also understand that you are exceedingly anxious to see how your own realms have fared in your absence, and to resume control of your people. We are pleased to excuse you now, as you no doubt have arrangements to make for your departures. We shall make certain that our staff ready your horses and carriages for a swift departure. Of course the kitchen will prepare an early breakfast, to be served in your rooms. No doubt we will all be in a better state to exchange our farewells tomorrow morning!”

In the ensuing bustle and upset, no one noticed that the Queen, rather than attending her husband on his sick bed, spent most of the afternoon and early evening in the rooms of her entirely undistinguished Uncle Ernest.

Fortunately, the packing and hysteria continued late into the night. So it was that none of the royals were aware when, late that evening, the cloak shrouded Queen unlocked and opened a small postern gate. She whispered goodbyes to two elderly figures as they were assisted into litters held by burly serving men. When the last farewell were finished, the men carried the litters out, escorted by a small detachment of the King’s Guard. The Über Celestia Guard met them just outside the walls, and added half a dozen to their numbers. Without conversation, the party set off through the gathering dusk, on the road to Bupleurum Spa.

Heaving a deep sigh, the Queen locked the gate and returned to the chaos of the castle.