The Official Guide to Rescuing and Maintaining Damsels in Distress Read online

  "Hey! What did you do?"

  Taking her hand Helena began to lead her towards the edge of the house, where they would sneak off and disappear into the bushes. Hopefully. "They're so the Sirens can't get you again."

  "WHAT?"

  "Shhh!" For added effect she looked back and placed her finger over her lips, then beckoned forward with her hand.

  "WHERE ARE WE GOING?"

  Turning, she slapped a hand over Crispin's mouth and glared at her until the dark woman yielded and nodded. Then, placing her feet as carefully as possible, she led the knight towards the barn. Saddling up Toby quietly they led him outside, veering off to the foliage on the right and stepping through it to disappear between the bushes. When they were a good distance away they began to circle the building, Helena trying to get into a position from which she could survey the porch. Apparently the Sirens had gone back indoors, Eric with them, and whatever he had been doing to distract them - Helena sincerely hoped that it was not still that song; it could do serious damage to any individual - had worked perfectly.

  Passing Toby's reins to Crispin Helena mouthed "you get on him" while making pointed gestures towards the knight and the horse, until Crispin seemed to get the idea and mounted. Then, indicating that the knight should wait for her, Helena turned and began to trudge through the small bushes. "Now just to get Eric's horse."

  The stallion wasn't where she had left him, and with a puzzled frown she turned back to be greeted by the sight of the missing animal right behind her. But the fellow holding onto his reins was definitely not Eric. Disbelief coloured her voice.

  "Philip?"

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  IT WAS MOST definitely Philip, but only the exterior supported that detail. The once pleasant and good-looking young man had a dark blaze in his eyes and a sarcastic half-smile on his lips that almost distorted him physically.

  "Not what you were expecting?" His voice was acidic, a far cry from what it had been. Stepping closer he let go of the horse's reins. "Helena, Helena, Helena. I worked so hard to find you, and then you ran away from me. How rude." He took one small step closer. "And all of that for an ill-tempered knight who has no interest in you beyond a reward." And another small step. "What a shame." He now stood right in front of her; his head tilted a little as he stared down at her. "I, as you will no doubt respond, am not much better, but at least I won you with my character."

  She should have been frightened, but that reaction didn't come naturally to Helena. Instead, what she felt was overwhelming anger. "You won me with a character that was a lie, Philip! How much is that worth? Nothing! Crispin may not have been as nice as you were at first, but at least there was some reliability in that!"

  "Oh please." Philip shook his dark head with scorn. "Reliability is for the weak." Trailing one hand up her arm he grinned as she yanked the limb away. "Nevertheless, here I am, and where exactly is your knight? Nowhere to be found. Now don't kick and fuss, Helena. I'll admit that I do love it, but it does waste time." With that he wrapped one hand around her upper arm and began to stride back through the bushes. She was surprisingly obedient (and one would have thought he'd learnt his lesson about that) but he seemed ignorant as he paced right towards Crispin, who was sitting on her horse in silent meditation. She couldn't hear anything with the wax in her ears, but quiet reflection necessitated a lot of pensive looking about - if only to show off one's skilled pensiveness - and it was on one of those arcs through the undergrowth that her sharp eyes caught a glimpse of the dark man dragging the princess by her arm without ceremony. Sliding her sword from its scabbard she slipped from Toby's back and crept down into the foliage, moving to intercept him as quietly as her temporary deafness would allow.

  Though Crispin and Helena had kept to the undergrowth and bushes, Philip had no such compunction. Not knowing that they were trying to hide he dismissed the foliage as unnecessarily bothersome and stepped out into the yard, dragging his obedient captive with him. It was right there that he ran into an intimidating woman, her dark hair streaming behind her in the slight breeze and her bright blue eyes as cool as steel. Considerably taller than him and hefting a longsword with deceptive ease in one hand, she simply stepped from a bush and right into his way.

  "HEY."

  It was much louder than it needed to be. Blinking in surprise he opened his mouth once and closed it, then let out a loud chortle. "Oh, this is lovely, Helena - did you bring a friend?"

  Crispin could not tell what he was saying, but the laugh needed no explanation. She thought for a moment of pulling the blasted plugs out of her ears, but then decided with unusual foresight that the princess had obviously had her reasons. Swinging the sword loosely in her hand she looked him up and down, making sure to be as offensive as possible. Then her gaze slipped to the small blonde woman whose arm he was clasping in his fist.

  "HELENA? WHO'S THIS?"

  Before the princess could open her mouth Philip interrupted, his top lip in a skew sneer. "I am the man who's walking out of here with this woman, that's who."

  For Crispin, who was trying hard to read his lips, the sneer just added difficulty to a sentence that seemed much too long to be a name in the first place - unless he was adding titles and triple-barrel surnames, in which case she would cut his head off simply for behaving like an ass. Settling for the less aggressive option as a start she furrowed her brow.

  "WHO?"

  Throwing his head back Philip began to hoot with laughter. "Who? Who?" he mocked her.

  The result was a good measure of chaos.

  A handsome blonde man exploded from the front door of the dilapidated property they were standing in front of and sprinted towards them, his legs pumping up and down frantically as he glanced over his shoulder. "Helena? You got her?!" Behind him three frail young women erupted from the doorway and began to … well, waft… down the stairs, their voices raised in evident fury. They were all speaking in a singsong voice, seeming to finish each other's sentences and start them all at the same time. As Eric approached at a speed and noticed the strange situation, his eyes widened and he attempted to come to a stop, only succeeding once he was within two arms' lengths of the dark man who held Helena by one arm. The three sisters were wafting closer, but when they noticed that Crispin was a very vigorous part of the group they drifted sullenly together at the edge of the gathering, their voices muffled and soft as they consulted.

  Eyeing the blonde man who had just skidded to a halt in front of him with contempt, Philip switched Helena over to his other hand and drew his sword. "Crispin. At last."

  "Me?" Eric frowned in confusion. "No, there must be some sort of misunderstanding... "

  "Ah. Of course you won't fight for her. Your reputation precedes you." With that Philip lifted his sword and pointed it at Eric, who was trying furtively to step backwards. "But I will gut you like the coward you are, Crispin."

  "Me?" It was a repeat, but Eric felt that it was a proper and essential word for the situation. "As I said, there must be some confusion. I'm not Crispin… "

  "You would bow out of it to save your gutless pathetic self, wouldn't you, Crispin?" Philip made a token slash in the air, arresting his motion rather clumsily as Helena tapped the hand holding her. "What?"

  "He's telling the truth." She shrugged. "He isn't Crispin."

  "What?!" It was a dramatic roar. "Where is he, then?"

  "There." With an angelic expression Helena pointed at the dark woman who was now swinging her sword in lazy arcs. Turning his head Philip glared at the knight.

  "Where? All I see is this woman… " Veering his sword around he pointed it in Crispin's direction, or intended to. Instead he found himself on the receiving end of an extremely powerful blow that took his own sword right out of his hands.

  "HELLO." Crispin presented him with a lovely even white smile and stuck the point of her sword into the ground, propping her hands loosely on the hilt. "GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF HELENA."

  Immediately he obeyed, though this had
more to do with the fact that the princess was currently worth much less in his hands than his fallen sword. Pushing Helena forward into the knight he used the moment of confusion to scrabble on the ground for his sword, grasping it and almost driving it straight through Helena before Crispin pushed her roughly into Eric's arms and out of harm's way.

  What was so unnerving about Crispin was not that she had turned out to be a woman, or that her blue eyes were so incredibly blue and calculating, or that she handled her sword in a manner obviously superior to his own - it was a very disturbing combination of the three. Swinging his sword experimentally he performed a rather tricky exercise; to his indignation she repeated his movements and added an insulting little decorative twirl to the end. With a growl he threw himself at her and began to fight in earnest, his fury growing as he realised that her movements were still relaxed and peaceful whilst he was slashing about wildly.

  Crispin was working very slowly on infuriating her opponent rather than attacking him. She had already judged his style as a form of stage fighting; it was functional, but still no opponent for the genuine article. Instead of attacking she darted between his furious blows to deliver stinging replies of her own, lighter and faster than his own and driving him into a pure frenzy. When his movements began to slow down somewhat she stepped back and rested her sword on the ground, to his great aggravation.

  "JUST TURN AROUND AND WALK AWAY."

  "No!" It was a hysterical screech, backed by blind rage. "And stop yelling at me!" Lifting his sword he charged forward, finding himself immediately flat on his stomach with a foot in the small of his back. The very sharp point of a sword came to rest on the ground a bare breath from his eyes.

  "TURN AROUND. AND WALK AWAY."

  At that point the natural coward in him came to the fore quickly and nodded enthusiastically. He was not going to win a battle with this … spectre, for obviously she couldn't be an ordinary woman. Whatever reward was attached to the princess surely wasn't worth this, was it?

  At the movement from his head Crispin lifted her foot off him and dragged him upward by the back of his shirt, giving the front a rather too firm dusting for good measure. "THERE. AND DON'T DRAG WOMEN AROUND AS IF THEY'RE BAGS OF FRUIT IN THE FUTURE."

  "Fine. Fine." Philip held his hands up to fend off her hands. "I'll just go, shall I?" Turning he strode past Eric, who didn't realise the danger until it was upon him. Grabbing the unsuspecting princess suddenly by the arm Philip pivoted her into his grip and slid a dagger from his belt, resting it lightly against her neck. "Now who's going to turn around and walk away, huh?" Crispin stood helplessly much too far away, her free hand spread in mute entreaty. The brown-haired man grinned maniacally. "She is mine. You hear me? She …"

  It was odd how the singing started so softly that it only became audible after it had weaved its spell. Philip's eyes glassed over once before he shook his head to clear it, lightly nicking Helena's neck with the motion. "… she is…, " he started again before his dark eyes turned vague and an insipid little smile stretched across his features.

  Helena would have slapped her hands over her ears immediately when she noticed the sisters opening their mouths in unison, but the blade pressed tightly to her neck persuaded her otherwise. Wrinkling her nose and closing her eyes in anticipation she was rather surprised not to feel any effects.

  "Put down the dagger." It was said by the middle sister, her voice as soothing as honey. Without a word Philip dropped the dagger at his own feet and stood smiling at the sisters as Eric moved in quietly and pulled Helena away from him. The sisters studied the blonde man with a regretful expression.

  "It is you we truly wanted," the right-hand sister confided. The one on the left shrugged, "but our powers are much weaker this far from the shore. Even our calling rock does not help." The sister in the middle nodded. "We cannot enchant the tone-deaf." They glanced over to the smiling man who stood waiting for commands. "If it is all the same to you," the middle sister spoke, "we will keep this one," the sister on the left chimed in, "and leave you be."

  "Most definitely." Helena nodded. "Help yourself."

  "And you are of course welcome to stay the night again." The sisters spoke in unison.

  With a nervous smile Eric put his hand on Helena's shoulder and nudged her towards Crispin, walking backwards as he spoke. "No, no. Thank you, but no. Enjoy your person. I mean day." Each taking an uncomprehending Crispin by the wrist, they propelled her right back into the bushes where Toby and Eric's horse grazed placidly. Sheathing her sword and mounting her stallion, Crispin held out a hand to Helena, who let herself be lifted onto the horse without a word. Settling the princess in front of her the knight took a hold of the reins and then leaned forward.

  "WHAT JUST HAPPENED?"

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  "I JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND how you could just let him go like that!" Helena picked irritably at a dubious-looking sandwich, her brow crumpled as she attempted to get Crispin's attention. The knight, on the other hand, was poking a small stick into her ear with a meditative expression. "You've been at that for the last three days! Stop it!"

  Proceeding to not even think about stopping, Crispin twirled the little branch with intense concentration. "Do you know how difficult it is to get candle wax out of your ears?" she questioned, her voice prickly. "And I didn't let him go - he is an adult, after all, and he can make his own decisions."

  Finally accepting the bits she didn't like as vastly overriding the bits that she did, Helena sighed and tossed the sandwich into the small fire between them, where it spluttered and hissed in outrage. "That doesn't mean that his decisions are always very brilliant, Crispin. If you had told him not to he wouldn't have. That's how he feels about you, heaven knows why." Picking up a small stone she tossed it into the fire, trying to hit the rapidly toasting sandwich. She missed. "Oh, and by the by…" she pouted much too innocently, "getting wax out of your ears is probably not nearly as difficult as it was to save you from the Sirens." Silence. A silence filled with big letters spelling "I won" across the night sky in very bright colours and fireflies.

  Studying the princess with a sidelong glance and a measure of reluctant amusement Crispin pitched the small stick into the fire, where it fell neatly on top of the now useless sandwich, and pulled her knees up to wrap her arms around them. "Gloating is not an attractive trait for somebody of your standing, you know," she remarked conversationally.

  "Standing schmanding." Helena leaned back on her hands and gazed into the sky with satisfaction. "I don't care to hear your views on rank and status, sword-wielder. I only care that, this time, I am the hero."

  "Yes, yes, and thank you for it. Again."

  "No you don't." Sitting bolt upright Helena raised a finger in Crispin's direction. "Don't thank me. You have managed to make that sound like a disease the last twenty times or so." The knight presented a smug smile. "And don't imagine that you've heard the last of the whole Eric matter either."

  Heaving a massive sigh Crispin plunged her forehead down onto her forearms. "What more is there to say, Helena?" she demanded, her voice a tad muffled. "I can understand that you wouldn't exactly be keen on the idea of him returning to free Philip from the Sirens, but it is, after all, his choice."

  "His choice is a fine thing," the blonde was slightly belligerent, "but why? Why would he go back?"

  "Well," Crispin lifted one hand in a bemused gesture, "according to Eric it was only the humanitarian thing to do." Catching a glimpse of Helena's cynical expression she nodded. "You don't have to tell me. We were less than … charitable… when we threatened to throw Claude off the roof, or last season when we tied that messenger to a thorn tree naked, or a few years ago when we pretended to Thisby that we'd been converted to Thisbyism…" Shrugging her broad shoulders loosely she shook her head. "What it comes down to is that Eric has noticed a quality in Philip that we didn't."

  "Philip has no qualities!" the princess insisted sullenly.

  "Nevertheless. Look, Helena
, I think it's as simple as that he likes him."

  "But what is there to like? And liking is definitely not enough to make such a major decision!"

  "You must have liked me enough to come back and rescue me from the Sirens," Crispin declared cheekily, her tongue pressed into one cheek.

  Shooting an evil glance in her direction Helena glowered. "I can always take you back. They wouldn't mind."

  "They wanted Eric right from the beginning, princess, so I might be an unwelcome guest. It's a pity, because I think I would rather have been ravished than done …" she gave a mock shudder, "… embroidery. I'll probably have macabre visions of needles and thread in the night for the rest of my life."

  Helena sat bolt upright. "You really would have preferred that…"

  "Erm." Clearing her throat a tad uncomfortably Crispin began to twiddle her thumbs. "It would have been much more entertaining than embroidery, is all I'm saying."

  "Oh." Leaning back onto her arms again the blonde continued to study the stars. "Embroidery is not that bad. I've always thought it a pleasant pastime myself."

  Crispin cocked her head to one side. "Even more so than being ravished?" Her tone of voice portrayed incredulity, scepticism, and just a smidgeon of horror at the thought of somebody actually enjoying needlework.

  "I wouldn't know," the princess replied dismissively.

  "Oh, you have been in that tower for a long time." Crispin glanced upwards too, more to hide her small smile than to look at the stars. She could feel Helena's eyes on her suspiciously, though luckily the light from the flames did not reach as far as her face, and she could hide her quiet amusement in the dark. They sat companionably (which meant that they were not tearing each other's hair out at that very time) for a moment, both upturned faces revelling in the profusion of stars above them, before Helena felt it necessary to continue in a different - and less precarious - vein.