Little Red Cinderella and the Three Beanstalks

Previously...

But how can we hope to defeat the Witch Queen? We have been fighting her for years, to no avail. She’s far too powerful, and has too much magic and men who don’t fear death. How could you, a group of ten individuals consisting of seven dwarfs, two commoners, and a woman hope to achieve what an entire army could not?”

“We have knowledge,” Jack said, casting me a look that clearly said that he hoped I had something substantial to back him up. I thought about the Book in my pack. It should have just enough to get us into the castle, I thought. After that, we would likely be on our own, but we would cross that bridge when we came to it. “We can stage an ambush. We could take the Queen hostage, and rescue the Princess.”

“My lord, think of what that would mean for our Kingdoms,” the Prince’s advisor whispered. The Prince nodded, slowly.

“Yes... the Princess if supposed to be very beautiful.” He fell quiet, apparently thinking hard. “Alright,” he said after a long moment. “Alright, I’ll hear you out. But you better have one damn good plan.”

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And we did, much to my surprise.

The Book, apparently in a much more willing mood after I asked it kindly, readily offered up a wonderfully detailed map of the Queen’s land that had definitely not been there before. It even had her army’s encampments and their project paths marked out in red, so we knew where to avoid.

I learned the hard way that I’ve got about as much talent in tactical planning as a baby has talent in spinning plates, but the Prince was a veritable strategic genius. The only reason his country didn’t already have this war in the bag was because their own well trained but small army was overwhelmed by the huge numbers the Queen’s had amassed, combined with the added force of her dark magic.

To everyone’s surprise, the Dwarves turned out to know about a vast cave system that ran beneath the mountain range to the East--a mountain range that just so happened to provide the eastern defense for the Queen’s castle. The Dwarves had good reason to suspect that the tunnels ran right below the castle itself, and could no doubt provide an excellent ambush point, or even point of entrance.

While the Prince could control an entire army with a single word, Ezu had spent most of his life alone, or hunting in small, stealthy parties. Attacking and defending in small groups is entirely different than leading a hoard of several thousand, and with only a little grumbling he agreed to help instruct the soldiers who would be accompanying us in the art of guerilla warfare.

Jack, of course, did what Jack always did best, and kept everyone from tearing each other’s throats out when things grew heated, as they often did into the long night. He and the advisor shared many an exasperated look; usually when Ezu kicked his chair over in a fury and stormed out of the tent. Which he did repeatedly.

It wasn’t until the wee, early hours of the morning, hours before the sun would even rise, that we’d finally hashed out a fairly decent plan and the meeting was finally called to a close. The Prince did his best to make sleeping arrangements for us. His initial idea had been to have Jack and Ezu bunk with some soldiers in a nearby tent, and then have another tent right beside the Prince’s own emptied, kicking its occupants out to find some other tent to sleep in, leaving me with one of my own. Probably out of decency or something. But I told that Prince that I’d rather have Jack and Ezu in the same tent as me, and that the men who had to leave to make room for me could take the places Jack and Ezu would have.

The Prince was flabbergasted. The thought of a woman sharing a small, confined tent with two men was obviously anathema to him, but I insisted. Sure, the boys may not have smelled as fresh as they had at the beginning of this journey, and they snored and kicked in their sleep and were all together just unpleasant to spend the night with; but I felt a whole lot safer knowing they were right beside me, especially in a camp full of armed soldiers who probably hadn’t seen a woman in weeks.

So the Prince finally consented, though casting the three of us frequent suspicious glances, and ordered his adviser to clear a tent for us. We were all too grateful to find three sleeping cots vacated and ready for us to climb into, which we did with exhausted sighs of relief. Jack and I exchanged barely intelligible “goodnights”—Ezu was already asleep—and we gladly let sleep overtake us, putting an end to a long, tiring day.



We were woken what felt like perhaps ten minutes later, but judging from slants of morning light streaming through the sides of the tent, must have been at least a few hours.

“Excuse me,” someone was calling from outside. “My lords and lady, are you awake? The sun has been up for some time now, and his highness the Prince is eager to begin our march upon the Queen’s castle...”

I snorted and rolled over, immediately rolling right off my narrow cot and hitting the ground with a painful thump.

“Wha?” mumbled, rubbing the sleep from my eyes with one hand and the new bruises that I had just added to my collection with the other. “Who’s that?”

“It’s Roland, miss,” the knight called back, sounding a trifle concerned. “Are you alright? Are the others awake?”

“Don’t pander to their delicate lady’s sensibilities, you ridiculous heap of armor,” a gruff voice that undoubtedly belong to a dwarf interrupted. “We’ll be here all day at this rate. Get out of my way.” Frank the Dwarf--because of course it was Frank--roughly pulled back the opening of the tent and marched inside, heading straight for the boys’ cots without sparing me so much as a glance.

“You’re lucky I’m decent,” I said testily, rising to my feet and stretching as best I could in the confined space.

Frank ignored me and instead concentrated on toppling over Jack and Ezu’s cots, sending the boys tumbling to the ground with cries of sleepy surprise.

“Oi, what was that about?” Ezu grunted, stumbling to his feet and raising his fists, as if ready for a fight.

“Oh God, I think my nose is broken!” Jack gasped, barely intelligible and clutching his bloody nose with both hands.

“There, see?” Frank said, crossing his arms over his barrel chest and nodded, pleased. “Now we can get a move on. Get yer lazy behinds ready, that pompous Prince wants to head out already, and everyone is ready but you lot.”

His job done, Frank waddled back out the tent, saying something about sending knights to do a dwarf’s job to Roland as he passed.

“...Er, sorry about that,” Roland called, still from outside. At least he had some manners when a lady was present. “But um, if you would, the Prince would like to see us all again before he finishes breaking his fast.”

“Breakfast?” Ezu said, perking up instantly. “We’ll be right out!” He began pulling on his pants with remarkable speed and agility for someone who had been in a dead sleep thirty seconds prior. I rolled my eyes.

“How’s your nose?” I asked Jack, picking up my pack and making sure that everything was just how I left it.

“Not broken,” he replied, prodding it tenderly. “Still bleeding, though. You look like a troll, by the way.”

“What?” I said in horror, freezing in the middle of strapping my sheath and sword to my waist.

“You’re hair, I mean,” Jack said quickly, raising his hands in defense. “Not you just your, you know,” and he stuck his hands up from the sides of his head like antlers. I made a face and tried to pat the unruly curls into place, but even without looking I could tell it was a lost cause.

“Maybe I should just cut it all off. It’s getting too unmanageable,” I said sadly.

“Don’t,” Ezu replied, pulling his second boot on hastily and jumping to his feet, grabbing his own pack as he ducked out the tent flaps. “I like it.” And he was gone.

“Oh,” I said, staring at the spot where he had disappeared. “Thanks.”

“Why are you smiling like that?” Jack asked.

“I’m not, shut up. Here’s your stuff,” I said, throwing his bag at him, and following Ezu outside.

Outside, we were met with the slightly surprising sight of the entire camp having been packed up. The tents had been brought down, the camp fires put out and scattered, the pack horses loaded up, and the soldiers all decked out in their knightly gear, their light armor glinting in the early morning sun. How they had managed to do all this without waking the three of us up, I couldn’t fathom.

Well, actually, considering how heavy of sleepers Jack, Ezu, and I all were, it really wasn’t all that surprising, I suppose. But I digress.

The Prince, already mounted upon his remarkably impressive war horse, rode over to us, his chest plate emblazoned with a crimson, stylized sun and a sword upon his side that looked unusually blood thirsty for an inanimate object. With a grim expression upon his chiseled features and his snorting, pure white steed, he certainly made an impressive figure. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ezu puffing out his chest, trying to look taller.

“Your Majesty,” Jack greeted him with a low bow. I repeated him and gave an almost graceful curtsy, figuring that despite his obnoxious attitude, keeping him happily on our side was worth more than my pride. Ezu muttered something without making eye contact that might have been forced polite deference, or might have been a vile curse. We’ll never know.

“I see the three of you have finally decided to grace us with your presence,” the Prince said, in too serious and bland a tone for it to really be considered sarcastic. “I want to begin marching upon the Queen’s borders by noon. Sir Erikson, you have until then to train my troops in subversion tactics.”

“Until noon?” Ezu repeated, incredulously. “That’s only five hours, that’s hardly enough time to teach a hundred men an entirely new style of fighting!”

“I’m sure you’ll manage, I have the utmost confidence in you,” the Prince replied, again in a tone that made it difficult to tell how much offense one should take from it. Grumbling, Ezu stalked off, muttering dire threats under his breath.

I ended up following him, sitting on a stump with my chin resting on my palms while I watched him give terse instruction to the knights Roland had gathered for him. They had been divided into groups of ten or so, and Ezu made his rounds between them, doing his best to teach the life-long soldiers how best to sneak in their armor, how to use their short swords and daggers in confined quarters, how to duck and dodge and creep and hide and track and defend and attack and everything a person would need to know to sneak into and ambush a heavily guarded castle and make it out alive, with only nine other men at your back instead of a whole army in the space of five hours.

I wouldn’t be so optimistic as to say it went particularly well, but definite progress had been made after the first few hours. The knights were sweaty, out of breath, and worn down, but they were remembering to watch each others' backs, and had figured out how best to pad their armor, which while it was relatively light, it still had the obnoxious habit of clinking and clanking every time they moved, which made stealthy movement nigh impossible. Ezu was a pretty terrible teacher, and the men seemed to resent having to be taught at all, especially by a grumpy young upstart like Ezu, but Roland remained by his side and helped lend weight to his words. The men knew and trusted Roland, and if they resisted Ezu, Roland would step in and take over as best he could.

Ezu eventually wandered over to me and sat heavily in the dirt beside me, leaving the soldiers to try to figure out how to climb back down out of the trees by themselves.

“This is hopeless,” he said, leaning back on his elbows and looking up at the sky. “These are cavalry men and infantry; not hunters or trackers. They’ve never had to take someone by surprise a day in their life, and they’re not going to be able to start now.”

“Oh I don’t know,” I replied, watching them struggle and fall to the ground one by one with cries of pain. “They’ve gotten a lot better so far. And if the Queen and her own forces aren’t suspecting to be ambushed, they won’t be on the lookout for the signs of our clumsy army sneaking up behind them.”

Ezu shook his head. “I tried to teach them how to slit a man’s neck from behind before he has time to cry out, but that’s the kind of thing you have to learn through practice. The first guard they come across will have plenty of time to shout the alarm and set the entire castle on high alert before this lot can clumsily finish him off. We’re doomed.”

I stared at him, one eyebrow raised. “And how many throats exactly—you know what? I don’t actually want to know. We’re not doomed, though. Worst comes to worst and we get discovered and Plan A fails, we still have Plan B. Once everybody is in the castle, as long as Team Alpha can get the gates blocked and the castle doors barricaded, we’ll stand a fighting chance.”

“Your code names are really weird,” Ezu said, and then went quiet for as long moment. “What time do you think it is?” he eventually asked.

“Eleven, maybe? The left side of my face feels like it’s gotten about four hours of sun damage, so I’m going to say eleven. I think the Prince wants us to get ready to head out soon,” I replied. Ezu sighed and rose to feet, wiping his hands off on his stained pants.

“Well, I don’t think this lot will get any more prepared than this, and the sooner we get all this over with, the better.”

I stood up as well, and put out a hand to stop him as he turned to go back to his unhappy students.

“Hey, Ezu?” I said, watching his face as he looked curiously at me.

“Yeah?”

“We’ll make it through this one. And all the rest. And if we don’t... well, thanks for sticking with me through all of this.”

Ezu gave me a crooked grin. “Despite all the crawling through mud and running for our lives and going days without food or rest and all the near death experiences, I’m glad that I did. Even if you do drive me up the wall sometimes.”

I punched him in the arm, and let him to back to join the soldiers. After watching him walk off and thinking that he really needed a haircut, I went to go find Jack and try to thank him too.

Within the hour, everyone was ready to set off. Jack and Ezu were unhappily sitting too close for comfort together on the same pack horse, the only spare animal available for the boys. The seven dwarves were all sitting in front of various soldiers, and I was behind Roland, my arms wrapped tightly around his waist as I remembered that I wasn’t a terribly big fan of horses. We headed across the valley, towards the forest and the Mountains, where the tunnel system hopefully waited for us. The entire party was quiet, everyone concerned with their part of the Plan, and with what might happen to us if it fell through.

It was a pretty decent place, all things considered, involving phases and dividing into teams and emergency back up plans, and thinking about it definitely made me feel more confident about our chances. In and out, quick and silent, grabbing the Princess, spiriting her out, silently dispatching the guards, and then rendezvousing at the Throne room to ambush the Queen and hopefully take her prisoner before disappearing into the mountain caves as if we had never been there at all.

It was all a mite more complicated than that of course, but those were all the important bits. Plus we had plenty of fail safes and contingency plans. All in all, it seemed fairly fool proof. Yes, I thought pleased, trying to ignore the growing ache in my behind from the horse’s uncomfortable gait, this was one rescue I really had faith in.



The creature lumbered through the forest, its claws dragging through the dirt and roots as it padded along, its wet nose twitching in the damp air. It was large and clumsy, and still confused by its new, painful shape. But when it needed to be, it could be very stealthy indeed. It could remember the way it used to hunt, and the way the animals it had hunted crept through the forest in silence like living shadows, and it knew how to emulate them.

Through the pain and the confusion that constantly clouded its mind, it knew what it was looking for. The strangers, the evil sneaks and murderers who wanted to hurt his beloved queen. No, no, not beloved, evil. The evil, wicked sorceress who had... who had...

He couldn’t remember anymore. It always faded, so quickly, like water he was trying to keep cupped in his hands.

No, he didn’t have hands. In his claws? Did he ever hold water in his claws? Or did he just rend soft flesh with them? The thoughts slipped and faded, and dissolved into nothingness once again, just a faint memory of a dream. He didn’t have thoughts anymore, just feelings. Just the scent of hot blood in his nose, the sound of gentle rustling in the trees, the hungry patience of prey he knew would soon be there. His queen had told him so. And so he waited, and he hunted.