It took longer to get out than they'd hoped. They stuck to dark back alleys and narrow old streets where they could stay hidden from the Queen's remaining trolls and demons. It was nearly dark before they made their way out to the scrub forests that lined the roads around the Kingdom of Columbia Eye.
“It's so dark here.” Brett shivered as the wind blew across their shoulders, making the pines rattle and bristle. “Even the woods in Nerdocrumbesia never get this dark!”
“I'll admit, I'm a bit nervous,” Richard muttered as he clutched his bow. “These woods are different from Sherwood Forest. The trees there are mostly ancient oaks and firs, not new pine and juniper like these, and the ground isn't as sandy. I don't know them as well as my own lands.”
Brett placed her hand on a tree and winced as black light mingled with the green. “It's not strong here, but there's dark magic in these woods...and that dark magic is very close-by.” She drew in a breath as the black mist imbued her green light with a sickly evil glow. “No...no!” She jumped back as if she'd been bitten. “It's black magic, magic I know too well.”
“Your stepmother again?” Charles gulped. “I wish there was something I could do to stop her. I'm no warrior. All I can do is play my lute and sing and act.”
“And that,” Richard reminded him as he cut a tree limb away with his knife, “may be more of a weapon than my own bow and arrow. Remember, she hates anything that can make people happy or really feel anything besides what she dictates they feel. Your music and performing makes people happy, and it's beautiful to see.”
Brett kissed his cheek. “So don't be so hard on yourself,” she chuckled. “You have a lot to offer. Even if you are a slob. Why don't you ever wear socks with your shoes?”
“It's easier for me to dance that way, and far more comfortable on my feet. I'm often dancing and singing for hours at a time.” He tugged at her stiff curls. “What about you? I'm certain this isn't your own hair. Do you even have any?”
“Yes, I do!” She yanked her head away, nearly falling over a branch. “I wear a wig to look younger. People expect my skin to be snow white, not my hair.” As she turned, her skirts snagged on a bramble bush. “Oh good gravy Marie! These damn woods are out to get me!”
“Let me help.” Richard appeared at Brett's side first. “It's just caught on a thorn.” He cut it away with his knife, leaving a sharp tear. “I'm afraid it's not the most presentable at court, but we could always fix it later.”
They all jumped at a growl that seemed to come from the direction of her stomach. “Look, I think that was an indication that I'm starved. You boys probably are, too. Not to mention, we need somewhere to stay for the night. There's no way we can sleep out here. Who knows what animals live in those bushes?”
Charles rushed ahead on the path while Richard aided Brett. “I found it!” he yelped, his voice going up an octave in delight. “I found the perfect place for us to stay. It's even made of food! We can sleep and have dinner at the same time!”
The path lead directly to a peculiar little house in the middle of a clearing. It was the most delicious house Charles ever saw, all made of gingerbread and candy. Pastel sugar wafers made up the roof, with a chimney of chocolate brick and windows made of hard candy. The panes were licorice twists, and the front and back doors were hard toffee outlined in colored cream. Rows of glistening lollipops lined the walkway. Gumdrops lead to a yard around back; he could see a clay bread oven on the edge of the property.
“You guys have to try this!” Charles got there first and dipped his hands into the cream. “Hey, this is really good! Equal to the finest confectioner in Yorkalia City!”
Richard looked down at his stomach. “Am I that hungry?” Another rumble shook his trim belly. “Yes, yes I am!” He slung his bow over his shoulder and dashed down the road, joining Charles at the front stoop. “It smells so good!”
“Have some window! It's delicious!” Charles stuffed his face with spun sugar, holding out a rope of red licorice. “You'll love it. It's so filling!”
Brett shook her head, shivering despite the warm afternoon. “I don't think we should be here, fellas. The whole house reeks of black magic. I don't care how hungry I am. There has to be another place nearby to get dinner.”
“Oh, come on, Brett!” Richard leaned around the corner, a sugar wafer from the roof in one hand. “Don't look a gift house in the mouth. We'll have dinner, then we'll leave.”
Even as Charles broke off another piece of the window, he heard a sweet old voice from just beyond it. “Nibble, nibble, like a mouse,” the voice creaked, “who's been nibbling at my house?”
“It's the wind,” he called from the porch, “blowing through the trees!”
“Please,” Brett begged, “there's someone there. We shouldn't be eating their house. Besides, the others have to be worried about us.”
Before she could grab Charles' arm, the door opened. A tiny old lady, bent and fragile, waddled slowly onto the stoop. Her rusty gown of deep pink and green and embroidered apron hung off her skinny body like a shroud. “Well, hello there!” She gave Charles a toothless grin. “Who are you? I haven't had the pleasure of visitors in a long, long time!”
He swallowed before going to her side. “I'm Charles of Yorkalia, mistress. I'm sorry my friend and I ate your house, but we've wandered in the woods for hours, and we're terribly hungry!”
“What's going on?” Richard licked a half-finished candy cane as he came from the other window. “Well, hello there, mistress.” He bowed with a wide smile and kissed her hand. “My name is...er, Robin. My friends Master Charles and Mistress Brett and I are newcomers to these woods, and I'm afraid we're lost. We need to find our way to the Kingdom of Columbia Eye.”
Her giggles sounded just a bit forced. “Oh, what a sweet young man you are! And so very handsome! I could eat a handsome fellow like you up, yes, I could!” It took her a few moments, but she opened the door a bit wider. “The woods are no place to be stranded after nightfall. I have a fine meal all ready. Why don't you stay here for the night? You can start out fresh in the morning.”
Brett remained firmly on the path. “I really don't think this is a good idea. There's something about you I don't trust. I still sense black magic. Familiar black magic. I think I know you...and you're not my favorite person.”
“Brett, stop being a wet blanket.” Charles took the old woman's bony arm. “This is a perfectly nice old lady, and she could use some company for dinner. Have a heart!” Richard took her other arm and helped her inside, with Brett following slowly behind.
Charles never tasted better food. The spindly little table in the center of the main room was laden with every edible treat he'd ever seen, from steaming hot ham with pineapple rings to green beans and carrots slathered with butter to mountains of roasted potatoes and gravy. He and Richard ate heartily, but Brett barely picked at her ham and remained unusually quiet for her.
The old lady lead the trio to two soft beds made of fluffy cotton candy in a smaller room. “I'll let Mistress Brett sleep in my room,” she cooed. “There's plenty of space. Have a pleasant evening, gentlemen. I'll see you for breakfast.”
Richard yawned and stretched as he leaned his bow and empty quiver against the wall, next to Charles' lute. “I wonder what got into Brett? Maybe this woman isn't gorgeous, but she's been nothing but kind to us. I suppose even Legendary Princesses let their imaginations run away with them now and then.”
“She probably had too much ale in town.” The taller minstrel sighed settled into his downy blankets. “I don't know, Rich.” He let out a yawn that nearly dislocated his jaw. “I feel....really sleepy. I didn't realize we'd...walked...so much...” But Richard was already gone, snoring in the other bed. “Night, Rich.” He managed to lean over and give him a kiss on the cheek before dropping into a dreamless slumber.
It seemed like minutes before vicious hands grabbed his shoulder and shook him back into wakefulness. “Get up, you little ass,” the voice hissed. “You're going to be breakfast for my trolls in a few days!”
His eyes widened as Malade, the woman who sheared off Princess Elaine's hair and tried to hit on King Allen, shoved him towards the door. She'd traded her blue silk for a lace-trimmed gown of emerald green, the collar stiff enough to poke his eye out. “What's going on? Let go of me! Rich...Robin! Brett! Help!”
Her hand flew over his mouth, stifling his cries. “Shut up, troublemaker! Your precious princess and dashing rogue can't help you now! I made sure of that!”
Two trolls dragged him out to a tree in the back yard, where heavy iron cages hung off thick branches. Richard sat forlornly in the closer of the two. Charles found himself shoved into the other. “They got you, too?” the outlaw grumbled. “Those charming blokes of hers nearly killed me with their breath this morning before they tossed me in here.”
“Where's Brett?” Charles demanded. “What did you do with her?”
Richard tried to grab at her between the bars. “If you've harmed her in any way...”
One of the trolls flung Brett into the yard, ignoring her wild struggles. “You got what you wanted,” she hissed as she reached for the nearest tree. “Let them go. They have nothing you want. It's me you're after.”
“Uh-uh, Snow White.” The two men yelped as the wicked witch pulled a pair of iron cuffs out of her pocket. “We can't having you using magic. That wouldn't be fair.” One of the trolls wrapped its beefy limbs around Brett, allowing Malade to slap the cuffs on her wrists. “Now we're on more level playing ground.” She squeezed one of her arms so hard, her fingers left purple bruises. “You will prepare the finest meals for your skinny musician friend. He's to be fattened into a meal for my trolls.”
Richard narrowed his eyes. “What about me?” he growled.
Charles most definitely did not like the amorous gleam in Malade's eyes. “You're very handsome, woodsman,” she purred, stroking his cheek. “It's surprising some lovely lady hasn't snapped you up before.”
“She did, once,” he muttered. “Lady Diana left me and our children high and dry when she returned to Britannica. My sons are with their uncle and aunt on the other side of Nerdocrumbesia.”
“I could fill that gap.” Her fingers roamed freely around his chest as her eyes gazed deeply into his. “Rumor has it that the poor of this country regard you as their champion and, dare I say it, greatest hero. It would make sense for a hero and a queen to join forces.”
“Never!” Richard shoved her away with all the strength he could muster. “I would never marry an evil crone like you. You may be beautiful now, but there's ugliness in your heart. Brett's noisy and bossy and too attached to the spotlight and even she's prettier than you!”
Her hand wailed across Richard's face so hard, even the trolls stepped back. “Don't you ever refer to that bitch of a stepdaughter of mine again,” she hissed. “I'll return to you when you're in a more amiable mood.”
It was the same thing for nearly a week. Malade sent her trolls to feed Charles, then tried to flirt with Richard after they left...and every day, he turned down her proposal and ignored her advances. Brett cooked all kinds of rich delicacies, but was only allowed to eat crab shells.
“We have to get out of here soon,” Brett told Charles as she brought him his breakfast one morning. “I know Malade's planning something. I've heard her talking about some potion she's working on, and she needs my powers for it.”
Richard pushed his plate of chicken dumplings aside. “I'm not hungry anymore. Why would she want you? What's so special about your magic?”
“Malade thinks if she can take my beauty, she'll be able to drain my powers.” She turned even whiter than usual at the thought. “If she has all of the powers of the Legendary Princesses, she'll be able to corrupt them, and in turn, destroy all that's good in the kingdoms.”
“We won't let that happen.” Charles took her hand. “Brett, we've only been eating enough to keep us alive. I'm not about to let her make me into lunch for those walking garbage disposals.”
“Shh!” Even as she spoke, two trolls stomped into the yard, their feet causing the ground to shake and the gumdrops to wiggle. “Here they come! Stall for time while I deal with Malade. They're blind as bats and about as smart as those gumdrops. You'll be able to figure something out.”
“What you doing?” The most massive and hairiest of the trolls pushed Brett towards the back door. “We feed four-eye music man, not grown-up lady!” It snatched the tray and shoved it in Charles' cage. “Show us your finger! See if you fat! If you fat, we eat you!”
“I'm not fat! See?” Charles stuck a chicken bone between the bars. “No fat. Guess you'll have to let me go.”
The first troll grabbed the leg and felt it, then the other. “Awww!” the first whined. “I want lunch today! Queenie promised us a nice, juicy human lunch!”
“What's this all about?” Malade snapped as she stumbled over in her fine brown velvet gown. “Stepdaughter, why are the trolls standing with their faces hanging open?”
Brett raised an eyebrow. “I thought they always looked like that.”
The meatiest troll shoved the bone at her. “He isn't fat! We can't eat him! We want our lunch, and we want it now!”
“You'll get your lunch!” Malade shoved Brett out of the kitchen. “Snow White, you lazy little wretch, I want you to climb into the clay oven and make sure the fire's hot. When it's stoked enough, I'll roast that good-for-nothing minstrel into a gingerbread cookie for my trolls, no matter how big he is.”
Brett wrinkled her nose. “I'm not much good at tending fires. Not in my job description. Besides, the flames absolutely ruin my complexion.”
“Oh, stop being a baby. Even I can do it!” Malade flung the heavy door of the oven open, crawling through the black smoke it belched. “See? It's not that hard.”
The second she'd climbed all the way in, Brett flung the door closed. “Then you can stay in there, since you're such a big fan of fire!”
“I never thought I'd say this about you, Brett,” Charles laughed, “but that was brilliant.”
Keys dangled from a silver ring between her two fingers. “Thanks. I snitched these off her when I gave her that sob story about my complexion.” As soon as the two men were released from their prisons, she quickly unlocked the cuffs on her wrists. “Now that I can do this,” her hand slapped on a tree, “let's grab your things and get the hell out of here!”
“Here you go, lad.” Richard emerged with his bow and quiver and Charles' lute, just ducking the arms of one of Malade's trolls. Two others chopped at the clay oven with an ax in an attempt to free her.
One of the trees wound its limbs around a troll who tried yanking his arm and sprinkling salt on it. “Thanks, Brett! I taste terrible with salt. Little paprika might be better.”
Even as Brett threw off a smaller troll grabbing at her waist, the clay oven belched acrid smoke, then suddenly blasted apart! “You little bitch!” Malade screeched as she emerged from the rubble. “Look at what you did!” Tattered shreds of lace and satin hung limply off her blackened shoulders. Half her face was still porcelain, an untouched doll. The other side resembled a doll thrown into a fire, her hair singed and her cheeks melted.
“You'll pay for this atrocity! You'll pay dearly!” Long strands of silken ribbon all colors of the rainbow twined around her fingers. “I've wanted to give you this gift for a long time.” She wrapped the ribbons as tightly as possible around Brett's throat. “With your last breath, dear stepdaughter, you will give me every last drop of that aging beauty of yours!”
“No!” Richard slammed the bow across her shoulders with a wild cry. “Don't even try, Malade!”
“Are you ok?” Charles asked her as he untangled the ribbons from her neck. She took great heaving breaths of oxygen as she clung to his arm.
“Ask me...when I can breathe again...” she gasped as she very nearly hacked up a lung. “Come on...we'll find our own way through the woods...”
Richard climbed into the driver's seat of a purple carriage with silver leaf trim pulled by two black chargers. “We'll borrow Malade's ride. She doesn't need it at the moment, and those sleek stallions and the silver leaf will fetch a pretty penny at market.” The other two no sooner jumped in the back than he pulled on the reigns, and they were on their way. As soon as he got to the nearest road, he let the horses break into a fast trot, leaving the gingerbread house and the woods far behind.
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