Part 4 (1/2)
Laphroig stood, bowed deeply, his feathered hat sweeping down, and straightened anew. ”I shall return home to await your word. But I do want to emphasize that I hope to begin courting the Princess as soon as you have had a chance to consider and accept my proposal. As I said, I do feel some urgency in this matter, and I do feel I have a duty to my people.”
”I understand,” Ben advised, rising with him. ”You shall hear from me again very shortly.”
He watched Laphroig bounce out of the room, wondering how in the world he was going to handle this.
MISUNDERSTANDINGS.
Some distance away from the castle, although not so far that she could not see its silver gleam against the green backdrop of the surrounding forests, Mistaya sat talking with Poggwydd about proper behavior. It was a discussion that was taking considerable time and effort, and they had been at it for several hours now. That these two citizens of Landover should be engaged in a discourse on this particular subject was of itself rather strange, and the irony of it would not have been lost on Ben Holiday had he been present to witness it. No doubt he would have had something to say to his daughter about the pot calling the kettle black or how people who live in gla.s.s houses shouldn't throw stones.
Willow, on the other hand, would have pointed out that sometimes people worked through their own problems by trying to help others with theirs, and that this could be particularly effective when the nature of those problems was so similar.
”If you want to be accepted by others, you have to be considerate of their feelings,” the pot was saying to the kettle.
Poggwydd frowned. ”No one is considerate of us. No one wants anything to do with us. G'home Gnomes are friendless outcasts in a friendless world.”
”Yes, but there are reasons for this, as I have been saying,” Mistaya explained patiently. ”For instance, taking things that don't belong to you is not a good way to endear yourself.”
Poggwydd bristled. ”G'home Gnomes are not thieves, Princess. We are finders of lost items, with which we then barter or trade. It is a time-honored profession, and one in which our people have been engaged for centuries. Just because we are not skilled craftsmen or clever artisans does not mean we deserve to be treated badly.”
Mistaya sighed. They were covering familiar ground without making much progress. ”Poggwydd, you do not find 'lost items' in other people's storerooms and closets. You do not find them in their sheds and huts. You do not find them in their kitchen cabinets and pantries, some of which are bolted and locked.”
Poggwydd screwed up his monkeyish face and grimaced. ”Those are harsh words. Unpleasant accusations.” He thought about it a moment and suddenly brightened. ”Where is your proof?”
”Well, in your case, finding you hung from a tree limb by an angry kobold who just happens to serve my father would be a prime example.”
”That was a case of mistaken ident.i.ty. It wasn't me. Probably wasn't even a G'home Gnome, although there are some among us-as there are some among you-who do not obey the rules of the tribe. But if I were pressed for an explanation, I would think it was probably another kobold-perhaps even the one who accused me.”
He nodded with some degree of self-satisfaction, and she wanted to smack him. ”Bunion doesn't lie and he doesn't have any reason to steal things to which he has free access,” she pointed out. ”Besides, Parsnip saw you, too. That suggests you might want to rethink your explanation. The fact is, Poggwydd, you were somewhere you shouldn't have been. You weren't invited into the castle, let alone into the kitchen and the pantries. This is an example of being where you aren't supposed to be for a purpose that shows no consideration for others.”
The G'home Gnome pouted. ”I would have paid it all back, you know. Eventually.”
”Well, if you hadn't done it in the first place, you wouldn't have had to worry about paying anyone back. And you could have asked for whatever it was you took. Maybe Parsnip would have given you what you needed. Next time, you should just ask for me.”
He shook his head. ”No, I can't do that. You are a Princess. Why would a Princess even be told told I was asking for her?” I was asking for her?”
She brushed back her blond hair. ”We're getting off the point. We were talking about proper behavior. Or lack thereof. G'home Gnomes suffer from a failure to recognize what proper behavior is. If they want to be accepted by others, they have to earn their respect.”
Poggwydd snorted. ”How is that supposed to happen? Everyone's already made up their minds about us.”
”And you don't do anything to change those minds. Besides 'finding' things in people's houses, you manage to latch on to their pets, too. Often right out of their pens. And then you eat them.”
”That is a lie!” Poggwydd leaped to his feet, flinging his arms about, his wizened face screwed up like a walnut. ”We do not eat pets. We eat wild creatures we find wandering about. If they happen to be pets that have strayed, what are we to do about that? How are we to know? People blame us, but they don't want to share that blame! If they took better care of their pets, these things wouldn't happen!”
Mistaya scratched an itch on her nose and smiled. ”Why don't you stop eating cats and dogs altogether? There are plenty of other things you could eat. Squirrels or birds or voles. Or even bog wumps, if you could catch one. Eat some of those instead.”
”Bog wumps!” Poggwydd was horrified. ”Do you eat bog wumps? Does anyone?”
”Well, I don't,” she agreed. ”But I don't eat cats and dogs, either.”
The gnome sat down again. ”I don't think you know what you are talking about.” He gave her an accusatory stare. ”I think you are badly confused about all of this.”
She pressed her lips tightly together in frustration and nodded. ”Why don't you just think about what I said,” she suggested finally. ”In the meantime, stay away from the castle. If you need food, come ask for me. I will tell everyone I am to be told if you do. Is that all right?”
Poggwydd folded his arms across his skinny chest and hunched his shoulders as he looked away from her. ”I might just leave. I might just go back to where I came from and forget about trying to make a home here. I don't think this is going to work out.”
She got to her feet. Couldn't argue with logic like that, she thought. ”I'll come back and see you again tomorrow,” she promised. ”We can take a walk and not talk about anything, if you like.”
He shrugged. ”If you can spare the time.”
She left him sitting there looking off into s.p.a.ce, pretending that nothing she said or did mattered to him, that he was above it all. She had come out to talk with him after hearing from Bunion the whole of what had led to the little fellow being strung up by his heels, wanting to do something to prevent it from happening again. Bunion and Parsnip could promise that it wouldn't, but if they caught Poggwydd again where he wasn't supposed to be she wasn't all that sure the promise would mean anything. Kobolds were not known for their generous natures, and even though these two were her friends, friends.h.i.+p only went so far.
As she strolled back through the grove of Bonnie Blues toward the castle, she tried to decide what else she could say that would make a difference. She needed to do something besides brood on her situation as a former Carrington student, an ident.i.ty she was trying to put behind her at this point. Her father hadn't said anything more about her suggestion that she go back to being tutored by Questor and Abernathy, but she had a feeling he was considering something else. No one had indicated what that might be, not even her two would-be tutors, who kept hemming and hawing around the subject whenever she brought it up to them.
So now she was thinking that it might be a good plan to come up with an idea of her own, a project that would convince her father that she was doing something useful. Working with the disadvantaged had always appealed to her, and there was no one more disadvantaged than the G'home Gnomes. If she could demonstrate her ability to change even one of them for the better, then her chances of being allowed to try to do so with all of the others would be greatly improved.
However, Poggwydd wasn't doing much to cooperate, and she was starting to think this might be tougher than she had thought.
She was still mulling this dilemma over, paying little attention to anything around her as she meandered out of the forest and onto the roadway leading to Sterling Silver, when she suddenly found herself face-to-face with Laphroig of Rhyndweir and his entourage. There were six or eight of them, all on horseback save for the driver of the carriage in which Laphroig was riding. She didn't realize who it was right away, still distracted with thoughts of Poggwydd and G'home Gnomes, and so she stood where she was as the procession rolled up to her and stopped. By then, it was too late to consider an escape.
Laphroig flung open the carriage door, leaped down, and hurried over to her. ”Princess Mistaya,” he greeted warmly, reptilian tongue flicking out as he executed a deep bow.
”Lord Laphroig,” she returned warily, only barely managing not to call him Lord Lafrog Lord Lafrog. She had heard Abernathy use the nickname often enough that she had begun doing so, as well.
”So wonderful to see you!” he declared effusively.
He grasped her right hand with both of his and began kissing it effusively. Rather forcibly, she extracted it from his grip and gave him a meaningful frown. ”It's not that that good to see me. But thank you for the compliment.” good to see me. But thank you for the compliment.”
She had learned something about diplomacy while growing up a Princess in her father's court. You were always polite, even when what you most wanted was to be anything but.
”I hadn't dared hope that I would be so fortunate as to encounter you personally on this visit. But now that I have, I shall consider it an omen of good fortune.”
She nodded, taking in his strange outfit. ”What is that you're wearing?” she asked, unable to help herself. ”Why aren't you wearing black?”
”Ah, you've come right to the crux of the matter,” he replied, giving her a knowing wink. ”My clothing is not the usual black because my visit is not the usual visit. It is a different reason entirely that brings me to Sterling Silver. I have been to see your father concerning you.”
”Have you?” She felt a sudden chill sweep through her. ”About me?”
”I have requested permission to court you with the intention that you should become my new wife and the mother of my children!” he declared, sweeping the hat from his head and bowing deeply once more. ”I intend that we should marry, Mistaya.”
It took her considerable effort, but she managed to keep her face composed and her emotions concealed. ”You do?”
”Your father has already said he would consider the matter. I shall use that time to come calling on you regularly. I shall make you see that we are the perfect match.”
In your dreams, she thought instantly. But what was this about her father agreeing to consider the matter? Shouldn't he have dismissed it out of hand? What was he thinking?
”Lord Laphroig.” She gave him her most charming smile. ”Do you not already have a wife? Are you not already spoken for?”