The Micki Adventures
By Linda Bindner
Chapter 8: A Brush with Royalty
The very next day, Micki emerged from the small house connected to the massive front gates leading to the palace. “I got your note to meet you here,” she said to Al the second she spotted her friend beside the gates. “You said it was important. What’s up?”
Al reached behind her to give a pull. Tank almost sprawled in front of her. “He’s not happy about it, but here he is, just like the Queen asked.” She leaned in to Micki to confide, “Mom made him take a bath before letting him come to the palace, and that’s why he’s mad.”
“I’m not mad!” Tank wriggled angrily against the grip his sister had on his collar. “I was clean enough already. Don’t see why I needed a bath.”
Al gave him a little shake. “Stop complaining. The Queen wants to see you. How many other eight-year-olds can say that?”
“Don’t care,” Tank grumbled. “Still don’t see why I had to take a bath.”
Micki was much more sympathetic than Al had been. “You’ll probably have to take another one when you get inside the palace. So will we.”
“Another one!” Tank’s horrified voice echoed off the stone of the guard house. “You tryin’ to kill me or what?”
“Yes.” Al shook her brother again. “It’s just a pity that water never killed anyone.”
One of the guards smothered a laugh. “Queen Madge awaits your arrival.” The opened gate beckoned them on.
“Come on,” Micki invited. “Let’s go see my mom.”
They trooped together up the graveled drive towards the palace, Tank grumbling the entire way. “I ain’t takin’ no bath.”
~~~
All three of them gathered again in the first floor sitting room, wet hair dripping from their recent baths.
Tank’s skin was especially rubbed raw. “I haven’t been this clean in--”
“Ever,” Al interrupted.
Tank frowned. “This had better be good.”
“It is,” his sister said. “Now shut up.”
The door opened and Queen Madge entered, followed by the group of people who surrounded her everywhere she went. She turned to face them the second she caught sight of the three waiting for her. “You’re dismissed.”
The people showed surprise at the abrupt order, and one man even hesitated just before the door, but the Queen hurried him out. “Let me visit with my daughter in peace. If I need any help, I’ll call.” She smiled widely as he left.
The Queen’s smile slipped from her face the second the door was shut. “You brought him,” she said to Al in a low voice.
Al hauled Tank around to her front again. “Just like you asked. This is my brother Tank… uh, Theodore. He’s eight.”
Queen Madge took a seat on a stuffed easy chair, level with Tank. “Nice to meet you. Do you prefer to be called Theodore or Tank?”
“Er… Tank.” Tank looked stunned to be asked his name preference. Micki sympathized with him.
“Tank.” The Queen nodded with a quick look to Micki. “I understand about names.”
Tank kicked a dirty shoe at the carpet. “What d’ya want?”
Queen Madge didn’t waste any time. “I need your help.”
“My help?” Tank’s sudden skepticism showed through lowered brows. “Queens don’t need help - not from kids. Are you really the queen?”
Al elbowed him. “Of course she is. Let her talk.”
Queen Madge suddenly turned to Micki. “Em, why don’t you show Sondra the books we have in here?” she asked instead of telling Al off for interrupting.
With this question, Micki knew that her mom wanted to talk to Tank on her own. She shrugged in Al’s direction and led her to the back of the room towards the floor to ceiling book cases. “I used to look at all these books, even before I could read. I even ate one.”
“You ate it?” Al asked disbelievingly.
“Okay, I chewed on it,” Micki admitted, pulling one book in particular from a lower shelf. It was a picture book with three ripped pages and a ragged front cover. “The Tutor said when I pooped it out the next day in my diaper, you could still read the words. I’m never sure if I believed him or not.”
Al laughed loudly, then whispered to Micki, “Why were we sent over here?”
Understanding a little about how The Queen acted when making an official request, Micki whispered back, “Mom wants to talk to him alone.”
“Then why didn’t she just send us out the way she did with those people from before?”
Micki couldn’t quite squelch her smile. “They’re the advisors she talked about yesterday.”
“The ones who always change her mind for her?”
Micki nodded. “She knows we won’t change anything, that this is between her and Tank. So we get to stay… sort of.”
“How does she know that we won’t tell anybody all about this meeting with him the minute we leave the room?”
Micki shrugged. “She just knows, I guess. It’s something from being the Queen.”
Al gave an appreciative frown. “Wow, knowing who to tell, who not to tell… This being queen business is hard work.”
“You have no idea.”
~~~
Five minutes was all Queen Madge needed with Tank. When the Queen stood, Micki knew their conference together had ended.
She dug her own elbow into Al’s ribs and gestured silently towards the other two in the room. She quickly replaced the chewed picture book that she and Al had been pretending to look at as a cover for their whispered conversation, then joined them.
“Remember, Tank,” she heard her mom say. “Report anything you hear, especially anything about The Disease. Tell no one.”
“Not even Junior here?” Tank pointed a finger at his sister.
Queen Madge didn’t comment on the name. “She already knows. But no one else. Not your parents. Not even your friends.”
Tank nodded importantly. “Got it. You can count on me.”
The Queen gave a nod and a smile. “I know I can. I’ve always felt I could trust children.”
Micki had never heard this. “Really?”
The Queen ignored her to say to Tank, “Now, how about we get some lunch?”
Tank brightened. “You got any ice cream?”
The Queen was already on her way to the door, so Micki answered, “Sure. I’ll show you where the kitchens are.”
Tank followed her immediately. “Okay. Gotta make all them baths worth it.”
~~~
Five days later, Al was again visiting the palace, this time alone. She and Micki stood at the bottom of the Grand Staircase in the Main Hall, their eyes riveted on the Tutor. He stood at the top of the stairs, several papers in his hands.
“Are you ready for your History of Ruralusia quiz-off, Miss Sondra?” he called down to them at the bottom.
“Ready!” Al called back. “History is my best subject in school.” She cast a look of excitement at Micki. “I’m gonna win!”
“Princess Em?” the Tutor called.
“Ready!” Micki cried back, then turned to Al. “There’s no way you’re going to win this quiz-off!” She grasped her hands behind her back in concentration.
“Very well,” said the Tutor. “If you answer a question right, you get to go up one step. First person to reach the top of the stairs wins, to be crowned the best historian in all Ruralusia.” He glanced down at the papers in his hand. “Question one: Who was responsible for starting what is often called ‘The Christmas Exchange?’”
“Allan the Awful!” Micki instantly called out.
“Incorrect!” the Tutor cried. “Miss Sondra?”
“Allan the Artful,” answered Al with a pleased look sent to Micki.
“Correct!” declared the Tutor. “You may take a step.”
Al cheerfully climbed up one step. “Look at that: ahead of royalty after only one question.”
Micki frowned at her friend. “That’s because I read my textbook wrong. I thought it was strange that someone named Alan the Awful was connected to Christmas.”
“That’s a good lesson to you, Princess,” the Tutor called down to her. “Next time, read more carefully.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Micki groaned while Al beamed. “Okay, next question.”
The Tutor complied. “For three steps, name the three causes of the 100 Days War.”
“The death of Prince Rasad,” Al immediately replied. “The death of King Charlie. And… and… I can’t think of the last one.”
“The death of Prince Rasad, the death of King Charlie, and the Ruralusian Financial Crisis, called the death of the finances,” Micki smugly replied.
“Excellent!” the Tutor cried. “See what happens when you read closely enough. Go up three steps.”
Micki skipped up three steps and said over her shoulder to Al, “See? Royalty always wins.”
Al’s face swooped into a scowl. “Don’t gloat, Princess. You haven’t won yet.”
They both looked to the Tutor, who called down to them, “For one step: name the year of Permubus’s famous voyage.”
“1493,” stated Al.
“Good. Miss Sondra, you may take a step.”
Al went up a step.
“Princess,” continued the Tutor, “what’s the rhyme that helps to remember him?”
“In 1493…” started Micki, “... he sailed… the pond of three?”
“No. Miss Sondra?”
Al grinned. “In 1493 he sailed the Seventh sea.”
“Very good!” exclaimed the Tutor. “Take another step.”
Al climbed up one more and smiled at Micki. “See? We’re even now. Royalty always loses.”
Micki studiously ignored her to call, “Next question. And make it a good one!”
The Tutor stared down at them. “Mmmm, yes. You do need a good question in order to take the lead again. All right. Two steps each answer to make four steps: name the years the Rodlin Rebellion started and when it ended.”
Micki’s voice instantly rang out, “It started in 1092 and ended in 1141.”
The Tutor beamed his pleasure. “Good job, Princess! You were paying attention when we covered that just the other day.”
Al whispered, “Yeah. You had to make up for that Allan the Awful thing.” And she giggled.
Micki skipped up four steps. “You’re just jealous.”
The Tutor cleared his throat to catch their attention again. “For five steps--”
“Five?” shrieked Micki.
Al giggled. “Now who’s jealous?”
The Tutor cleared his throat for a second time. When they’d both looked up at him again, he said, “For five steps: Why was Rulric of Hammondy called Rurlic the Red?”
Al promptly replied, “Because he liked to make people bleed through the use of thumb screws, torture chambers, stretching racks, and giving his prisoners deliberate illnesses. And he often wore a red shirt beneath his armor.”
Micki turned to Al with an expression of awe on her face. “Wow! How’d you know all that?”
Al twirled up the steps to stand one step farther than her friend. “I am bound to never reveal my secrets.”
“Bound?” Micki repeated. “By who?”
“Whom,” the Tutor corrected.
“Yeah, that.” Micki glared at Al. “Well?”
But Al just grinned and said, “Start sweating, Princess. You’re going to lose!”
“I am not! This is the Royal History quizz-off, and I’m the royal - I’m going to win!”
“You wish. I am!”
The Tutor’s patient voice came from above, “If you’re both done acting like six-year-olds, I’ll get to the next question.”
Both girls looked up at him in silent expectation.
“Thank you. Now, for one step: Who was the person who said, ‘United we stand, divided we fall and make a loud thud?”
“Rupert Harry,” Micki said.
“Correct!”
Micki climbed a step.
“For two steps,” said the Tutor, “name the two flowers on the Seal of Ruralusia.”
“Rose and lilac,” Al immediately said.
“Correct!”
Al climbed two steps.
“For one step: name the most famous show in Ruralusia history.”
“Mama Mine,” Micki said in a sure voice.
“Correct!”
Micki climbed a step.
“Who starred in it?”
“Amy Sherloth,” Micki said with assurance.
“Wrong! Go back a step.”
“What?” Micki stepped back and grumbled, “I’m never going to win at this rate.”
“Miss Sondra, who starred in it?”
“Amy Cherloth.”
“Correct! In what year?”
“1982.”
“Correct! Who starred in it with Ms. Cherloth?”
“Tanya Tang.”
“Correct! Take three steps.”
Al looked slyly at Micki out of the corners of her eyes. “See. I do know my history.”
Micki rolled her eyes. “That’s not history. That’s showstery. Anybody can do that.”
“Princess,” the Tutor called down before Al could make a retort, “for two steps: what year was the Hogan Rebellion, and who started it?”
“1763, and it was started by Annie Jackson.”
“Correct!”
Micki climbed up several steps, grinning from ear to ear at Al behind her.
And so it went. First Al was ahead, then Micki, then Micki had to go back three steps, then Al did too, then Micki went up one, then three more. Al went up one, then four more, then one more again. Micki went up three.
Until finally, the Tutor said, “For the final two steps… name Ruralusia’s next queen and her number one advisor.”
“The next queen,” Micki said, “is Rachel the Rare, with her advisor…” She spread her arms wide and smiled blissfully up at the ceiling. “Micki the Magnificent!”
“No way!” Al protested. “It’s Rachel the Fair, not the Rare, and your name isn’t Micki!”
“Okay, fine.” Micki spread her arms again and smiled at the ceiling. “Queen Rachel the Fair, and her advisor Em the Excellent!”
Al instantly barked a laugh and added, “With her friend, Al the Amazing! Sondra the Supreme! Junior the Jaunty! Alasondra the Astonishing!”
Micki lowered her arms. “Nobody gets to have four names!”
“I do because I’m special.”
“Well, I’m the princess, and I win!”
“She’s right, Miss Sondra,” said the Tutor with a straight face. “She is the princess. We can’t argue with logic like that.”
Al pointed up at the Tutor. “I saw that! You look normal, but your lips moved like you’re smiling on the inside!”
“I’m laughing on the inside,” the Tutor declared.
Micki crossed her arms and scowled. “Stop laughing at me. I command you.”
”And I command that we’re out of stairs,” said the Tutor in good nature. “I declare this history quiz-off a draw, and that you’re both amazing at Ruralusia history, and let’s go to the kitchen and eat some ice cream to celebrate such amazing victories.”
“Good idea!” they enthused together. They had turned in the direction of the kitchens when the palace front doors suddenly burst open, bringing them all to an abrupt halt.
Two guards tumbled in, their shoes squeaking on the floor, hauling a struggling Tank.
“Will you get these dimwits off me!” he yelled and writhed to get away. “I gotta see the Queen, now!”
“My apologies, Princess!” one of the guards breathed, nearly strangled in Tank’s manic grip. “We won’t let this young hoodlum near you!”
Al jolted down the stairs, followed closely by Micki and a suddenly grim Tutor.
“No!” Micki cried, sounding as imperious and royal as possible. “It’s fine. Let him speak.”
The two guards eased their grips ever-so-slightly, but didn’t release Tank.
Tank ignored them both to pant at Micki, “I gotta see... the Queen. She told me... to report... anything… anything I heard, and I heard a… a whopper just now!”
“Let him go.” Micki glanced up at one of the guards. “Can you please call the Queen? It’s important.”
The guards’ hands dropped away, one of them leaving for the throne room where Queen Madge often spent the day. The other stayed to smooth down Tank’s ruffled clothes.
Frowning mightily, Tank shoved the guard’s hands away. “All right, all right, enough fussin’!”
“But you haven’t taken the necessary bath yet,” the guard protested. “Follow me.”
Tank didn’t budge. “I ain’t stayin,’ so no bath. I won’t touch anyone, promise.”
The guard was about to protest again, but Micki stopped him. “He’s fine. Stay and protect the Queen.”
The guard released Tank immediately, then ran to meet Queen Madge coming into the Main Hall with his fellow guard. They formed a silent wall between Tank and the Queen.
Queen Madge gave an irritated huff and stepped around them.
The guards cut her off. “He refused to take a bath, Your Majesty,” said one of the guards. “Your previous orders are that visitors must bathe immediately upon arrival.”
“You won’t touch anyone, will you, Tank?” called the Queen around her two protectors.
“I won’t touch a thing as long as I don’t have to take no bath!”
“Fair enough.” Queen Madge emerged around the guards. “Now: your report, Tank? I hear it’s urgent.”
“It is, ma’am… Your Majesty… Your Highness. Um… I was in Lew’s Bar playin’ pool, you know, on one of the pool tables when I heard these two men talkin’ at a table nearby, and I swear one said somethin’ about someone gettin’ sick after he fooled the guards and snuck across the border last week. Then the guy’s whole family got sick. There were little bruises on their arms, and they got big bruises later, and headaches and pains and things. I thought you’d want to know all about it, so I ran here as fast as I could.” He lost some of his urgency when he added, “So I guess… now you know.”
Queen Madge couldn’t quite keep the alarm from her face. “Did the men say anything about where the sick man and his family live?”
“Yeah,” Tank said, “they mentioned he lives in someplace called Obrin.”
Was that a town? Micki had never heard of Obrin.
Al looked as alarmed as the Queen. “That town’s on the border with Olmstead, not far from here!”
Micki wasn’t surprised that her friend knew this. She knew lots of weird things, as the history quiz-off had just proved.
“Can I go now?” Tank asked, sidling towards the door, bored now that he’d told the Queen his news.
“Yes. You did well to tell me so quickly,” the Queen said.
Tank threw a mutinous look at the guards. “No thanks to them.” No one stopped him as he walked out the still open door.
Queen Madge looked instead to the two guards. “Inform the healers that I wish to see them immediately.”
The guards trooped from the room as the Tutor eyed the Queen. “What do you think this means, Your Majesty?”
Queen Madge rubbed her forehead with her fingers as if she had a sudden headache. “I think it’s finally happened, just like we knew it would. The Disease has come to Ruralusia.”