dashed back into view, the Black Knight even closer behind him. “When I catch you, you quick cur, the pieces of you will fly faster than your legs now carry you!”
Peter ran past Rosemary, not seeing her in his panic, and disappeared into the trees again. Rosemary took a deep breath and stuck her foot into the path of the Black Knight.
He tripped and went down. There was a clatter like someone dropping a whole kitchen full of dishes.
Rosemary rubbed her ankle. “Will that do?” she asked. Puck nodded.
The Black Knight was sprawled face down on the muddy path, embedded inches into the earth, trapped by the weight of his own armour. His sword stuck out of the ground, well beyond his reach. Rosemary yanked it up and then staggered to hold it.
Peter slunk out of the forest. “Some champion I turned out to be,” he muttered. Rosemary patted his shoulder. Puck smoothed out his dishevelled hair.
“My lady!” came the muffled voice of the Black Knight. “You do not fight fair! You should not fight at all!”
“I’m not a lady. Get up!”
“Help me.”
Rosemary shook her head. “I don’t trust you.”
“I am a man of honour,” said the knight. “I will not take advantage. Please, my lady, the mud is blocking my visor — I cannot breathe!”
Rosemary started to say something, but Peter raised a hand. “Do you yield?” he said to the knight.
“It was not a fair fight!”
“Peter’s twelve and you’re claiming you lost unfairly?” said Rosemary.
“Never mind that,” said Peter. “Do you yield, or shall we leave you where you lie?”
“I yield!” shouted the knight. “Just turn me on my back!”
Straining, Rosemary and Peter managed to roll him over. They watched as the knight pulled off his helmet and lay back, gasping. He had a weathered face and a dark, scruffy beard. He looked hard at Rosemary, and his eyes widened. “The Lady Rosemary!” he exclaimed. “So, you have returned after all this time!”
Rosemary jerked back. “Returned?”
“Has it not been six years since you saw me carry off the beautiful princess to the Castle of Doom?” said the knight.
“I saw —” Her brow furrowed. “Wait, I remember! You stole her from the church where she was going to be married. What happened to her?”
“She is still in the Castle of Doom, across the river.”
Rosemary hoisted the sword’s tip level with the knight’s nose. “What have you done with her?”
“Why, nothing, my lady. You left the story at that point. It does not go forward without you.”
“It will now,” Rosemary snapped. “You’re going to let her go!”
“My lady, I —” the Black Knight began.
“We beat you, right?” said Rosemary. “You have to do what we say, right? So, I say you let the princess go, right now!”
The Black Knight sagged. He picked himself off the ground and limped between the chrome jaguars and over the bridge. “This way, Lady Rosemary.”
As Rosemary followed, Peter touched her shoulder. “You okay?”
She shivered. “She just screamed. Screamed all through the forest, and nobody came to save her.”
“She didn’t get away?” asked Peter.
“I don’t know. I — I didn’t read any further.”
Puck gave her shoulder a squeeze. He took the sword from her and swung it up to his shoulder like a swagger stick.
They crossed the bridge and followed the pathway until they came to a clearing in the forest. At the centre of the clearing stood a tall, round tower of stone, barely ten feet across, its peak poking above the forest canopy. Windows rose up the sides, and a heavy oak door blocked the entrance.
The Black Knight stepped to the door and knocked. “Princess Asphodel!” he shouted. “I have been defeated in” — he hesitated, then continued in a grumble — “fair combat. I release you. Come down and meet your rescuers.”
A sound like a snake’s hiss started up from somewhere above them. Rosemary’s eyes tracked up to the second-storey window and she stepped back.
Framed in the window was a tall princess with long golden hair, wearing a pale green dress. The hissing was coming from her lips, which were drawn back from a toothy snarl.
The hiss became a yell, and the princess leapt from the window, coming down with all of her ninety-eight pounds on Rosemary, knocking her to the ground.
Peter rushed forward, but the princess knocked him aside with the back of her hand. Puck lunged, but the princess punched him in the stomach and chopped him in the back of the neck. Then she rounded on Rosemary.
“Six years!” Princess Asphodel screamed. “Six years I waited for rescue! Six years cooped up in that hideous tower with no decent bath, barely a decent larder, and only that smelly lout for company!” She jabbed a finger at the Black Knight. “If you ever once thought of washing yourself, I might have settled for you, but no!”
She pushed Rosemary down. “Do you think you can rescue me after six years and expect me to be grateful? Do you?”
The Black Knight rushed forward. “Princess,” he pleaded, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Please, calm yourself —”
The princess jumped up, grabbed the Black Knight by the arm, and swung him into the castle wall. There was a great clang of metal against stone. “Calm myself?” she screamed. “You kidnap me and leave me to rot, and you tell me to calm myself!”
She swung the knight around again, smashing him back into the castle wall. His helmet clattered on the ground. She snatched it up, jumped onto the Black Knight’s shoulders, and jammed the helmet down, backwards, over his head. He flailed about blindly. Then she jumped down, picked up the sword that had fallen from Puck’s grip, and smacked the flat against the side of his helmet. He yelled and clutched at his ears.
She hit him again with the flat of the sword, this time against the back of his head. She followed up with a kick to the back of his knee and a hard push against his shoulders. The Black Knight toppled face down in the mud. He lay still.
The princess dropped the sword, spat on the knight, and spat on Rosemary. Then she drew herself up, straightened her hair, took a deep breath, and ran, wailing, across the bridge and into the forest.
Peter gaped after her. “She didn’t seem too happy to be rescued.”
Puck was already standing, brushing himself off. “She did wait six years. How would you feel after such time?”
Rosemary
