He woke with a sore throat and a slight hangover. Birdsong outside but no traffic. Reaching out for his watch, nothing there. Sleepily he felt again by the side of the bed. With a little irritation he opened his eyes, looking for clothes. Then he remembered where he was.
He had noticed a water clock in a nearby hallway when being taken to bed. Tottering out of the room he discovered it was nearly eight. He guessed the palace inhabitants would have started their daily business long before. In an alcove he found a washroom and drank some fresh water from a copper tap. He wondered whether he was in a soft water area and would be liable to copper poisoning. A neurologist had suggested it might be a risk factor in Korsakoff syndrome. He did for sure seem to be forgetting all the things that had happened in the last few days. Made a mental note to look in people’s eyes to see if he could find traces of green rings around the iris. Would start to explain the madness of this weird world.
He was not sure what to do on returning to his room. He could hardly get dressed having nothing to wear. A check of the cupboards and they were completely bare. Outside was starting to be a sunny day and he was eager to explore the surroundings. Sitting on the bed he considered his situation.
Rupert had to be the key. He had some ulterior motive. Simon remembered how cross he had been when the Archbishop had been talking about the sermon. Probably the Archbishop was wholly innocent of Rupert’s mind. Perhaps one or other might be covertly acting in Simon’s interests. Lazily he looked up at the wall and noticed a bell-cord. Standing and reaching up but before he could ring it he heard a noise outside.
In one of the washrooms a voice was singing quietly to itself. He peeped round the door and saw a backside bent over a wooden bowl full of steaming hot water. It was clothed in a long woollen skirt. Simon thought of the girl he had caught a glimpse of the previous night. The figure stood up a little. To his horror he could see she was shaving.
He tried to back away without making a noise but the figure looked up and saw him.
“Hallo boy. Haven’t seen you here before have we?”
“Er, no. I’m Prince Simon. I’ve just arrived from Bristol - I mean Bristow.”
“Ah yes. You must be the young man who’s come to marry me.”
“Er, no, actually, I’m supposed to marry the Beautiful Princess Rose.”
“Well what do you know? I am the Beautiful Princess Rose.”
“Oh, er, no, maybe there’s been some mistake.”
“No mistaking me. I am to be your wife and we will be married on Wednesday. No point hanging about is there?” She grabbed Simon around the waist and pressed a half-hairy cheek against his lips.
“Er, no. I mean ...” Simon rapidly disengaged himself.
“No tell me, Simon. A young man like you must be full of energy at this time in the morning. You are to come into my chamber at once and carry out your matrimonial duties.”
“Um, well, I’m not sure, I mean, they wouldn’t be very matrimonial if we’re not yet married would they? That is to say, well it’s not permitted surely? Isn’t it illegal or something? I wouldn’t want to get burnt at the stake again.”
“Course it’s permitted you lovely little thing. You’re just a bit shy aren’t you? Come here and I’ll teach you the ways of the world.”
Simon jumped back and ran to his room. He pulled the bell rope. A servant entered almost before he had let go.
“Sir, what can I do for you?”
“Tell me, who is this, ... this person?”
“Sir, this is the Beautiful Princess Rose. She is your future wife. You must not talk about her in disrespectful tones.”
“And is it permitted to expect marital relations before the marital, er, so to speak?”
“Oh no, sir. That would be quite improper. You must wait until after the wedding.”
“Good. Thank you, sir. Now will you see me to breakfast, please. If it’s not too late. I had a hard day yesterday.”
The Princess scowled furiously. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m going to breakfast. Preferably with your parents. I met them last night.”
“Not like that you’re not.”
“Not like what?”
“No husband of mine is going down to breakfast in his nightshirt. What will they think of me. And they're not my parents.” With those words he pulled Simon’s shift off in a single smooth motion and shoved him naked down the corridor with the startled servant. But the servant pushed him into a room and rummaging in a box produced what looked like a large undergarment reaching down almost to Simon's knees and some sort of shirt half open at the top. With a small degree of relief he went down to the dining hall.
Breakfast was a standing affair. Food piled all over the tables and already there were sixty or so people milling around. None of them seemed to take any notice of him.
“Will you stay by my side?” he asked the servant, who gave his name as Nicholas. “I am unsure of protocol and hardly know anyone here.”
“Don’t worry,” said Nicholas, “I am assigned to you and will help you at all times. Are you Spanish? Vienes de Aragón o Castilla?”
Last time someone had spoken to him in Spanish it had not turned out so well, but it took all Simon’s effort to restrain himself from saying Que? When he had composed himself he replied.
“I am not sure I understand the language. Last time someone spoke to me like that I ended up in trouble.”
“Oh, who was that?”
“Mister Perthwick. He was, er, I guess he was my torturer in Bristow.” Maybe it was Latin but who cared.
“Oh, how exciting. Maybe you are from somewhere else. Could you be from Switzerland? There is a tribe living in the snow mountains, they haven’t invented clothes yet. They were taught English by the Calvinists and we are not at war with them. I wonder how you managed to end up in England. No wonder the backward peasants in the provinces thought you suspicious.”
They filled some bowls with fruit and meat and Nicholas introduced him to a number of pages about the same age as them. He told them how Simon was the son of a leader of a Swiss tribe and in the country as a guest of Prince Rupert. He made no effort to conceal the shocking rumours about how Rupert was going to propose him as the bride to Princess Rose in an effort to make a political union between the two countries.
“We can hide you in the kitchens if you like,” said one of the boys, a lanky eighteen year old with the wispy starts of a pointed beard and curling moustache. “We could have a job for you there and you’d be safe till the present trouble blows over.”
“Trouble? And when do I get clothes of my own?”
“Are you coming to the masquerade tonight?,” replied Nicholas ambiguously. “Ask Rupert about it, he’ll be there obviously. So will everyone. We can get one of the girls to fashion you a mask.”
The pages, Simon discovered, were mostly from noble families who sent their sons to court for education and royal preferment. Life at court had been safe for a generation since the turbulence of the medieval era had died down but there was a certain type of unease that seemed to melt away whenever he tried to discuss it with anyone. More importantly, the king was due to return in a few days and no one would explain the significance.
They taught him how to play a game that involved throwing stones on a long table and after a morning with the lads he somehow found himself alone in a part of the palace he did not recognise. A girl’s head appeared round the door and recoiled. He started.
“Who’s there?”
“I’m sorry,” came the muffled reply.
Looking round the door he saw her putting on her veil and recognised her as the girl he had seen the night before. “Are you ok?”
“Yes of course I am. Who are you?”
“I’m Simon. I’m proposed for marriage to Rose.”
“Oh, how does she get such a nice young man? I’m Uglu.”
“I’d much rather marry you,” said Simon. “I mean, not to be presumptuous or out of order. I just meant, well, Rose, er ...”
“She is much more important than me,” said Uglu.
“Come in,” said Simon. It’s not my room. Don’t worry, your quite safe. Tell me about palace life, I have so many questions. Are you related to Rupert for a start?”
“I really don’t know. My father is the Duke, he seems to have adopted Rupert. People appear and disappear. Are you going to the ball this evening? I’ll make you a mask if you like.”
“Why does everyone want to make me a mask? I’d much prefer some decent clothes.”
“No. The Prince gave strict orders. No one dares disobey him.”
“He did, did he?”
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“Have I said too much? Don’t tell him will you.
“No of course not. How long ago did all this start?”
“Well, Rupert came a few months ago. Maybe even a year now. Rose was here long before, I don’t even remember when I first saw her. Him. Not sure. They came one by one and gradually I found myself out of favour at court. Then I had to wear the veil like a nun. They arranged for the king to go away and now they have practically taken over. He’ll be back soon, I hope there is not another outbreak of war among the courtiers.”
“I hope I’ll be able to do something,” said Simon. “You are a rightful princess, aren’t you. I wish I was to marry you instead.”
She sat by him and despite his reservations he found himself pulling close and kissing her. Unlike anyone he had met in this world she actually smelled of soap, which made him self-conscious for lack of body spray. Holding him she traced the outline of his body. He jumped when she reached the top of his legs.
“Oh sorry, I should keep away from your bander” She pronounced it the French way. “It is rude.”
“Well I don’t mind too much,” said Simon, “I guess it is a little rude as you say, but ...”
“I wish I had one,” said Uglu.
“But you’re a girl,” said Simon, “You’re not supposed to have one.”
“Why on earth not? Everyone else does.”
“No they don’t.”
“They do so. She stuck her tongue out at him”
“Your mother doesn’t have one.”
“Yes she does. I’ve seen it in the bath.”
Before he could say any further they heard a noise outside. Someone searching the rooms. His heart sank as he knew for certain who it was going to be.
“Quick. Where can I hide?”
Uglu pulled up some rugs and threw them over him as best she could. The dust got into his nose. Rose stuck her oversized head into the room.
“Oh it’s you, you old goose. I know he’s around here somewhere.” Oblivious to the pair of bare feet sticking out from under the pile he stomped off to the next room.
“That was close,” said Simon extricating himself from his hiding place and sneezing out the dirt. “I’d better get out of here before he comes back. Hope I can get to see you again later.”
Uglu rang for a retainer who called a boy to take Simon back to his own part of the palace.
After lunch Rupert showed him some of the attractive areas of the palace. Although the estate was old the building itself had only been completed about fifty years earlier, and bought by the king just a few years ago in exchange for another palace. Looking out from one of the rear windows Simon was surprised to see a face peering high above the trees.
"Where on earth did you get a giraffe?"
“We have a menagerie in the grounds,” said Rupert. “Elephants, camels, all sorts of stuff.” As Simon observed, the prince simply assumed he knew what they were.
“Do you have a gryphon?” he asked, hoping to catch Rupert out.
“There is a high price for such a bird. Many merchants in the Arab lands have tried to get one but with no success. It is not even known whether they still exist.”
Everything the boy said raised doubt in Simon’s mind. Who are you, he thought, but kept it to himself.
A door led to a courtyard and in the dusty gloom stood a suit of armour. Next to it was a bow and a quiver of ancient arrows.
“These were left over after Agincourt,” said Rupert. “They used to stand in Hampton Palace. Bet you can’t draw the bow.”
“Bet you I can,” said Simon. “Used to be in the County archery team.”
Picking up the bow he flexed the grip. It was tighter than he was used to, he could see how the medieval archers must have been a fearsome enemy. He managed to pull the string back about half way.
“You can try using the armour,” said Rupert. “It’ll help keep your back in position and the bracer gives protection to the left arm from the string when the bow is fired.”
Simon looked dubiously at the metal suit but when Rupert helped him put it on it fitted very closely. The metal was cold where it touched his skin but the leather parts were comfortable.
Pulling the bow again this time he got the measure of it. The metal suit gave levrage to his back and arms, A mighty draw and he felt the wood give as it flexed into position. Rupert put an arrow into his hand and it let out a crack as he fired it against the wall. The visor of the helmet fell down. By the time he had removed it the dust had settled and he could see shards of paint and plaster on the floor.
“I’ll get someone to remove the barb and repair the wall,” said Rupert. “Come on, get the armour off, we can go out and have a closer look at the animals.”
“Ok, but I was just wondering, ...”
“What?”
“Well everyone was talking about this ball in the evening. Do you think this would make a suitable costume?”
“I have one of the ladies making you a mask. Don’t worry it’ll be fine.”
It was hot in the sunshine and the courtyard was kept meticulously so Simon did not find any stones under his bare feet. Walking the track to the fields he could smell the animals before he heard them and in separate enclosures came across a pair of elephants, two adult giraffes with a half size juvenile kepping close, and two camels with irregular humps that looked like large cushions.
“Are they tame?” he asked.
“The giraffes cannot be tamed but they are not in their nature dangerous,” said Rupert. “The elephants are the Indian type and were previously employed in domestic service in the East. They were bought from a Portuguese merchant who had travelled in the land of Birmania. The camels came from a caravan trader who does business in the lands conquered by the Huns, and are quite tame. There is a crocodile in the moat which has accounted for some of the king's enemies.”
“Can you ride the camels?”
“They have been ridden in the past but you need a saddle. We have them upstairs. Go and say hallo to them, I’ll get the servants down.”
Simon walked into the field. When the animals looked up he became nervous but Rupert held one off and showed him how to sidle up to the other without standing in front of its face. Simon reached out a hand and stroked its coarse fur.
“It’s not as bristly as a horse but I still wouldn’t want to ride it bareback.”
“You wouldn’t be able to. While it was trying to chuck you off it would be completely impossible to steer.” He called to the servants. “Just do this one. I’ll stay on the ground.” And to Simon, “Use the stirrup to mount but not to ride. When you get up just hang on for your life.”
Once the saddle was on it was easy to get one foot into the stirrup and lever himself up. The camel smell was powerful. As promised she gave an almighty struggle and he clung desperately to the hump like an oversized sandbag until eventually the beast became more docile. Holding the reins he let her lead him round the enclosed field while Rupert walked beside. The other camel looked on.
“Have you ridden these yourself?” he asked.
“No,” said Rupert and Simon made a mental note of how the prince looked when he was telling the truth.
It was light until late in the evening and as the courtiers prepared for the ball Rupert gave Simon a headpiece of coloured material with authentic whiskers attached to either side.
“Is this supposed to put me in disguise?” he asked testily. “I don’t think anyone will have difficulty recognising me.”
“It’s not about recognition,” said Rupert. In the days of King Henry it was so obvious when such a huge man came limping into the room, but everyone had to play to the pretence. That is the custom of the modern ball.”
“And how do you eat with a mask on?”
“Don’t worry, you’ll see what everyone else does.”
Don't worry. Simon had learnt to to worry very much when he heard those words. But in the event it all proved easy. Following the prince’s instructions he turned up half an hour after the official start and spent time talking to a few people he knew before making for the food. Plenty of stuff he had never eaten before but relieved to see camel was not on the menu. He caught sight of Uglu with a mask over her veil and across the room was Rose.
“Pretend not to see her,” said the man standing by him. “It would be unlucky to meet each other before the official announcement of your betrothal.”
“Is that to be tonight?” asked Simon.
“After the band has played to the eleventh hour. By tradition they will play some pieces composed by English kings and queens.”
Simon was nervous about the progression of events but he did manage to speak to Uglu. Finding a space where there were not people close he quizzed here about recent events at court.
“The king is away, has been abroad for two months. When he goes on a progress all the court come with him but for foreign trips he only takes his advisers. So he has left the rest of us at the palace under control of the Duke. He is old and weak that is why it has all turned out so very badly. First that Rose took charge then Rupert started up and now no one knows who does what and what is going to happen. But the king gets back in a couple of days, maybe he can take back control. We don’t want civil war, had enough with the old kings and queens.”
“Where is he away?”
“He has travelled to Scotland and Denmark. These are the countries he was brought up in and he is King of Scotland. We have better relations with them nowadays. They say the countries may be united but many Scots are not in favour, they have always dealt well with France. Probably I will be married off to a Scottish prince, I don’t look forward to the poor food and cold climate. But it is a wonder I have not been betrothed years ago.”
“Is the king your father?”
“Oh heavens no I have told you this before. The Duke is my father. The king has two surviving children. His daughter lives in Bohemia. His son does not take charge well. Though he is otherwise highly regarded. He should be running the palace really, not my father. Maybe Scotland would be better despite everything, I’d be away from all this.”
“So what about Rose? Am I really to be married to him, ... I mean her?”
“She came as a courtier, from some family in Somerset. They cannot be very famous but she managed to get high rank very quickly. Some suspect witchcraft. There are those who want to try her and have her burnt. I hope that doesn’t happen to you. There are so many witches found these days.”
“There are no real witches,” said Simon trying to comfort her. “It is only wise women who carry out herbal treatments.”
“Don’t say that,” cautioned the princess. “Denial of witchcraft is the surest sign of a witch. Never let anyone hear you say that.”
As she spoke a well dressed man came up towards them and Uglu moved away. Taking a look at Simon’s mask he said, “now let me guess who you might be.”
Simon was not happy with the new arrival, it seemed the man was looking at him a bit too closely. The man bowed with a flourish.
“My name is Jose Maria Velasquez da Wycha,” he said triumphantly. “I am from the twenty second century. I believe you are Price Rupert’s new arrival.”
“Yes,” said Simon. “My name is Simon.”
“Well we have much to talk about. Come where no one can hear us.”
The man took Simon to a corner of the room, making sure no spies followed them.
“You too are from the future. From a time when it is so hot people hardly wear clothes?”
Simon nodded dutifully.
“Listen carefully. You are I believe to be betrothed to the mother witch of them all. You must be very loyal or carefree to put up with such an arrangement. When I came here I was totally innocent of all that goes on but since that man arrived I have seen the conspiracy develop. You do not want to be part of it. You are a fine young man and I will do all I can to look after you.”
Simon could not help having an uneasy feeling at the way the man was talking to him, as if he was addressing the body rather than the face, and he kept looking down at Simon’s legs. He went on.
“There are things I cannot talk about in this room. You must come to my apartment. It is safe there, I have checked for spies and listening holes. I will give you clothes too. You can live there for the time being, I have Spanish courtiers on my side who will keep you safe till the king returns.”
Simon was worried by the man’s advice but nervous of his advances. “I think I’m safe enough with Rupert. He doesn’t mean any harm.”
“You don’t know Rupert. Come with me, I’ll show you.” He made to take hold of Simon who sidestepping the embrace nearly knocked over a trestle table still half loaded with food. Seeing Rupert approach looking furiously at them he turned to the prince. Glancing back behind he saw the man had melted away.
“What did he want, the Spanish traitor?”
“Oh, he um, I think he was just talking to me. I think he wanted to get me to his apartment before I was married.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. He’s had half the courtiers in the palace. Don’t go near him.”
“Why is he a traitor?”
“You tell me. I’m going to have him arrested.”
“No don’t. I mean, it’s not as bad as you make out. Just because ...”
“It’s a great excuse. He’s a danger. Believe me, I have work to do. Anyway it’s nearly time.”
The band were playing the royal songs and as the last one came to an end everyone gathered in a great semicircle with Rupert at the centre. Princess Rose stood tall in her gown and light veil to his right and Rupert motioned Simon over to stand on the other side, still holding his mask in one hand.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me great delight to announce a royal engagement. The Beautiful Princess Rose and His Highness Prince Simon of Bristow. Pray drink to their successful union.”
Simon squirmed to think how successful the union might be. But at least the king would be back before the wedding day. Or so he thought.
“The wedding will take place the day after tomorrow at the eighth hour of evening.” A low gasp went through the room and quickly turned into applause and cheering.
Rupert took Simon to one side. “Day after tomorrow?” said Simon, horrified.
“It’s all I can do,” said Rupert. “You have to be established at court before the king returns. Else you’ll be sorry I even saved you.”