Golden Braids and Dragon Blades: Steampunk Rapunzel

Chapter 19: Getting Stout

I’d never been far from my dragons before. But I had also never been out of my cave, with strangers, in a manor house, served by anyone, or being watched over by a decidedly handsome man who fashioned himself a Knight of the Round Table.

Ewan spoke to the butler, and then Ewan, Lucy, and I were led to a library where Lucy and Ewan could work. A table was cleared so lunch could be served. Lucy and Ewan spoke in hushed tones, Lucy pulling scrolls, journals, and papers from a bag. Beginning to feel a bit like an item of study rather than a person, I meandered around the library looking for something with which to preoccupy myself.

On the wall was a tall oil painting of a man in a white wig and some very expensive looking pantaloons. There was just the hint of a resemblance to Agent Hunter, Ewan’s boss. At the large window at the back of the room was a telescope. I set my eye to it, but in the bright light of day, there was little to see. I trained it across the garden and toward the skyline above the trees. No sign of my girls. At the bookshelves, I let my fingers dance on the rows of leather-bound books. Histories, reference texts, and books written in Latin, the books struck me as objects that had been acquired more for the show of wealth than the pleasure of reading. Each spine was unbent, each book looked like it had been shelved and never thought of again, objects of art rather than pearls of wisdom and delight. My fingers danced over the volumes until I found one that seemed interesting, a single volume of Holinshed's Chronicles of England, Scotland, and Ireland. I pulled the volume from the shelf and sat down in a large, comfortable chair near the window.

Apparently, Miss Austen’s works were far more riveting than Holinshed’s discussion of an eleventh-century Scottish nobleman, Banquo of Lochaber, a predecessor to the House of Stuart. I woke with a jolt when the butler came in pushing a cart laden with food. I grabbed the yellowing text before it tumbled to the floor. Rising, I slipped the volume back on the shelf then I went to the table where the man was setting out high tea. I smiled nicely as the butler pulled out a chair for me then poured me a cup.

Much to my surprise, neither Ewan nor Lucy had yet bothered to join me. Given Ewan’s passion for food, I was surprised.

“Carrot cake?” the butler offered.

I nodded, grinning at the confection as the man slid a slice onto my plate.

“You’re missing out,” I called to Ewan as I unfolded my napkin.

He turned and looked at me. I was surprised to see he was wearing a pair of small, round spectacles. Quickly pulling them off and setting them aside, he looked from me to the cake then nodded affirmatively. He said something to Lucy that I didn’t quite hear. She looked at me over her shoulder then gave Ewan an amused look. She nodded.

“Agent Eckle,” the butler said. He crossed the room and handed Lucy a heady brown stout with a crown of foam.

“Thanks,” she said, taking the cup. She stood drinking it with one hand while she sifted through the papers laid out in front of her with the other.

“Agent Goodwin? Tea, or something with a bit more backbone?”

Ewan rubbed the back of his neck. “Stout for me too.”

The butler nodded.

Suddenly, I felt a bit dainty with my tea and cake while Lucy was slugging back a stout. Regardless, I took a bite. The delicious mellow flavor of the carrot cake perfectly spiced with cinnamon and molasses melted on my tongue. I held back an embarrassing moan of delight. What could I do? I was just a cave dweller with only the model of the fictional Elizabeth Bennet to guide me. Something told me that Lucy was far more modern than the Bennet sisters. Dainty or not, that cake was divine.

Ewan joined me at the table, his eyes surveying the culinary landscape with interest. He popped an iced shortbread cookie in his mouth then took a deep drink of his beer. He sat back in his seat and stared at the table, lost in his thoughts.

“And what have you uncovered?” I asked, pointing to the papers he and Lucy were considering.

“Problems, Miss Pendragon,” Lucy answered.

“And possible solutions,” Ewan offered.

Lucy frowned at him. “Not good ones.”

“No. I didn’t say they were good ones.”

Both agents frowned.

“What is it?” I asked.

Ewan sighed. “Keeping you and your tiny horde safe is going to be a problem.”

“Unless,” Lucy said, tapping her fingers on the table.

“Unless what?”

“Unless Her Majesty grants us permission to wipe out the blood of Mordred. Now that you’re here, it changes things. But problems remain,” Lucy said.

“What problems?” I asked.

“Well, the blood of Pendragon is sacred. Legend tells us that even the line of Mordred can produce a dragon caller. Unlikely, but possible. As it is, you are just one person. If you die with no heir and we’ve extinguished the line of Mordred, then the blood of Pendragon ends. That can’t happen. Maybe if you had a child, or a gaggle of them, things would be different,” Lucy said.

“If I had…a child?” I said, trying not to choke on my tea. I flashed a quick look at Ewan, who was looking at me. My cheeks reddened.

And so did his.

Lucy sniggered then said, “If we could ensure the blood of Pendragon from Arthur and Gwenhwyfar could carry on, then it might be different. But for now, it’s just you. It’s not your fault or anything. Timing. We’ll find another way.”

“Another way for what?” a voice called as a stranger entered the room. “By Christ, look at this place. Who knew Hunter was so bloody rich? Whoa, who is this lovely creature?”

I turned to see a man around the age of sixty enter the room. He was tall, lean, and wore a red cape similar to the one Lucy wore. On his chest, he wore the badge of the Pellinores.

I rose slowly.

“Rapunzel, this is William, our colleague,” Ewan explained.

“Rapunzel. That’s a mouthful,” William said then gave me a little bow. “Now, what’s all the fuss about? The messenger said it was urgent. I was tracking Gravaine, who was hot on the trail of something. He came down from Scotland so fast it was like he was on fire. Something sure had him riled up.”

Lucy smirked. “Yeah. Her,” she said, pointing to me.

“Her?” William replied. “What, is she his girlfriend or something? What’s she doing here? What? Why are you two grinning like that?”

Ewan chuckled then crossed the room to his colleague. Setting his hand on the man’s arm, he slowly led him to me.

“William,” he said gently, moving the man in front of me. “Meet our Questing Beast. Rapunzel, this is William Williamson. William, this is Rapunzel. Rapunzel Pendragon, blood of Anna.”

William stared at me. “Make a stuffed bird laugh. Someone pour me a drink.”

Chuckling, Ewan poured William a beer and handed it to him. “Stout?”

“Hope we bloody well are, because things are about to get interesting,” William said then took a long drink, winking playfully at me over his tankard.

Ewan grinned. “If you think that’s interesting, wait until you see her dragons.”

William stopped mid-drink. His eyes widened. With a line of foam hanging on his moustache, he looked from Ewan to me. “Dragons?”