The Hero’s Guide to Saving Your Kingdom. Christopher Healy

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СКАЧАТЬ closed, his arms wrapped around the horse’s neck. Then something dawned on him.

      “Wait,” he called back to Reginald. “I don’t know where I’m going.”

      “Ella’s note said she was going to find that Rapunzel girl,” Reginald said. “Those bards are never very good about telling you exactly where their stories take place. But based on the clunky rhymes, I’m pretty sure ‘The Song of Rapunzel’ is the work of Lyrical Leif, the bard from Sturmhagen. Humph. With a name like Lyrical Leif, you’d think the guy could come up with better lines than, ‘Her hair was real long, not short like a prawn.’ Anyway, I’d try Sturmhagen. Head south.”

      “But Sturmhagen? Isn’t it supposed to be full of monsters?” Frederic said, his eyes growing wider by the second.

      “Ride fast,” Charles the groom called out. “With any luck, you’ll catch up to Lady Ella before you reach the border.”

      “I can’t ride fast,” Frederic said. “I’m trying hard to make sure I ride forward.”

      “Then so far you’re succeeding,” Reginald yelled. “Stay strong!”

      Frederic gripped his horse tighter, wondering what in the world he’d gotten himself into. Within twenty-four hours, he would be sniffling through a rainstorm, wishing he’d never left home. In a little over a week, he’d be quivering in the shadow of a raging giant. Another week after that, he would end up at the Stumpy Boarhound. But for now, he was on his way to Sturmhagen.

      Sturmhagen wasn’t a big tourist destination, mainly because of all the monsters. The kingdom’s thick and shadowy pine forests were crawling with all sorts of horrid creatures. And yet, that fact never seemed to bother the people who lived there. For most Sturmhageners, the occasional troll attack or goblin raid was just another nuisance to be dealt with, on par with a mouse in the pantry or a ferret in the sock drawer. These are tough folks we’re talking about. Take the royal family, for instance: King Olaf, at age sixty, was seven feet tall and capable of uprooting trees with his bare hands. His wife, Queen Berthilda, was only two inches shorter, and once famously punched out a swindler who tried to sell her some bogus “magic beans.”

      Prince Gustav, who stood six-foot-five and had shoulders broad enough to get stuck in most doorways, was nonetheless the smallest member of his family. Growing up as the “tiny” one among sixteen older brothers, Gustav felt a desperate need to appear bigger and more imposing. This usually involved puffing out his chest and speaking very loudly: Picture a six-year-old boy standing on top of the dining room table, posing like a statue of a war hero, and shouting, “The mighty Gustav demands his milk cup be refilled!” This didn’t make him look impressive—it made him look strange. His older siblings mocked him mercilessly.

      The more people laughed at him, the more distraught Gustav became. He stuffed balls of yarn into his sleeves to make his muscles look larger (and sadly, lumpier). He tied bricks to the bottom of his boots to make himself taller (and clomped around like a sumo wrestler in a full-body cast). He even grew his hair long, just so he would have more of something. Unsurprisingly, his brothers continued to tease him.

      In his later teen years, Gustav became a frustrated, angry loner. For as much of the day as possible, he avoided contact with other people (which was not necessarily a bad thing for the other people). He would roam on horseback through the pine forests of Sturmhagen, hoping to find some creature he could fight—and thereby prove his strength and heroism. One day he stumbled upon something incredible.

      There was a tall tower standing all by itself in a forest clearing. Oddly, it had no doors and no stairs. But it did have a girl stuck up in a room at the very top—a girl with eighty feet of hair. She lowered her shimmery blond locks down to Gustav, and he used them as a rope and climbed up to her. Once inside the small tower room, Gustav learned that the girl’s name was Rapunzel and that she was the captive of an evil witch.

      Now, Gustav was not exactly a ladies’ man; in fact, this may have been the first time he’d ever made eye contact with a girl. But he was struck by Rapunzel. She was so different from the girls he’d seen around the castle, especially his brutish cousins, who liked to hold him down and smack him with their thick, whiplike pigtails. Rapunzel was all soft, pillowy curves and delicate, graceful movements. She smiled at him warmly, held his hand, and spoke to him kindly. So this is why people like girls, Gustav thought.

      Overtaken by feelings that were entirely new to him, Gustav opened up. He complained about his brothers, and, to his surprise, Rapunzel listened. Gustav was in heaven. He yammered on for hours, until Rapunzel realized the sun was going down. The witch would be returning soon, she said, and she begged Gustav to go for help.

      Gustav climbed back down Rapunzel’s hair, hopped on his horse, and took off in the direction of the royal castle. But he stopped just a mile or so away from the witch’s tower. There was no way he was going to round up his brothers to come and help him. They would take all the credit and probably even steal Rapunzel’s attention away from him. No, this was going to be his rescue, his heroic deed.

      Under the darkening sky, he turned around and rode back to the tower. Rapunzel let down her hair for him but was confused to see Gustav reenter her prison room alone.

      “Where are the others?” she asked.

      “I need no others,” Gustav said with total confidence. “I will rescue you myself.”

      “Did you get a ladder?” she asked hopefully.

      “No,” he said, suddenly sounding less sure of himself.

      “How are we going to get out then?”

      Gustav had no plan, so he said nothing. He just peeked around in the corners of the room, pretending he was looking for something.

      Moments later, a scratchy voice called from outside, “Rapunzel, let down your hair.”

      “It’s Zaubera,” Rapunzel whispered. “Quick, you must hide.”

      “I hide from no one,” Gustav said. “Let her up. When she steps into the room, I will kill the witch.”

      “But—”

      “Just do it,” Gustav insisted.

      Rapunzel let down her hair.

      When Lyrical Leif later chronicled the event in his song about Rapunzel, Prince Charming’s “battle” with the witch went on for three lengthy verses. In reality, it was over in less than three seconds. As soon as the witch stepped over the windowsill, Gustav leapt at her. The evil old woman caught him and, with superhuman strength, hurled him from the tower. Done and done.

      Gustav’s landing was particularly nasty. He came down face-first into a painfully prickly briar patch. So painful, in fact, that the thorns scratched his eyes and blinded him. He spent the next several days stumbling through the forest, feeling his way from tree to tree. It was pitiful. After СКАЧАТЬ