Hilda - Cats (11 page)

"What do you want?" the servant asked, taking
an eyeful of Babs.

"Well," said the wrinkled witch. "How about
you first apologise to the witch there?"

The servant's faced conveyed a year's supply
of amazement. "Apologise? To her?"

"Yes. You heard correctly."

"Baba Yaga, please," Esmee started, but
something in the stance of Hilda made her keep her mouth shut.

"I'm not apologising to any witch," the
servant said, puffing a proud chest. "And certainly not to that
one."

"We'll see about that, dear man," said Baba
Yaga. "The 'that one' you are so disdainfully are referring to is
my protegé. She is a witch, and a damned good one. One with less
sense would have turned you into a toad for not watching where
you're going."

Esmee stared at Baba Yaga. Protegé? She
somehow convinced her lower jaw to stay put.

"The flower witch? She can't even change a
diaper quickly," the servant scorned. The scene was attracting more
than a fair share of attention by now, most of them servants
deciding that their chores could wait.

Baba Yaga looked at her protegé. "Turn him
into a toad."

Esmee wanted to say that she did not know how
to do that, but the stare that had to come from Babs' eyes made her
swallow those words. She popped up her wand, a trick she had learnt
by now. Hilda had taken position directly opposite Esmee and slowly
moved her lips.

The servant laughed. "See? She's not making
much of it. Now, let me pass and don't get in my way again!"

"Ranunculus," said Esmee.

"Ribbit," said what a moment ago had been a
servant. Esmee stared at the animal that crawled from the heap of
clothes.

"Someone take care of him," said William,
"and his work. If you treat him well enough, we'll see about
turning him back. Tomorrow or so. Treat him badly and you will face
what he's facing now."

Then the four walked on, Esmee still in shock
of what had just happened.

Esmee, who was kept moving by William's hand
in her back, looked confused. "Who did that?" she whispered to the
wizard.

"You did. Hilda just helped a bit," he said,
"I saw how she worked on the Latin so it would work
immediately."

"Latin?" Things did not get easier for Esmee.
"And who is going to turn that man back into a man?"

"You will," Baba Yaga informed her, "and
we're going to work on that this afternoon, so you know what's
waiting for you." Esmee nodded. Somehow this was a relief and a
worry at the same time. At least, she gathered, her chances of
flying into the large iron cage were low.

They arrived at large double doors, laid in
with the official seal of King Louie's household. It was a large
blue square with many small yellow crescents. Over a number of them
was a large hand that seemed to grab at them. Baba Yaga looked at
the seal for a moment. "Someone's been monkeying around with that,
it seems," she remarked.

Esmee knocked on one of the doors and pushed
it open. Baba Yaga nodded approvingly. Knocking was good, after all
this was royalty of a kind, but waiting to go in was not
witchy.

They found Prince Jordan on a large couch.
Dicky wasn't around, but Billy, the other of the twins, was on a
similar, be it smaller version of the couch. Esmee stared in
disbelief at the goblet that the kid was holding. She walked over
to him and took it, then tasted it. "Your Highness!" she then said,
"Billy is drinking wine!"

"Yes. I know," the highness said, "I gave it
to him myself. If he's going to be a king someday he should know
how to handle wine and such, so I thought it would be a good idea
to start the training as soon as possible."

"Where's the other one?" Hilda asked,
somewhat less polite and somewhat more herself.

"Dicky? Oh, he ran off, retching. Not so good
with wine yet," Prince Jordan said. "Strange too, as he's from the
same batch as Billy. I'd expected them to be the same."

"Oh yes, we need to talk about that also."
Hilda used magic on a few chairs so they moved themselves closer to
the couch.

"Also?" Prince Jordan hoisted himself into a
more upright position, knocking over his goblet of wine.

"Yes. Also. Hey, kid, off you go, and do
something kid-like. We have to talk to your Dad for a bit and
that's not something for small ears," Baba Yaga ordered Billy. As
the child complained that he had a right to hear that as he would
be king someday, Babs showed him her wand and made a comment about
ceilings and how much space there was on them. Billy did not need
more encouragement. He left, in search of his brother.

William made sure the double doors would not
open until they were done, and sat back to enjoy the show.

"You, Jordan, did not write the book on
bringing up children, did you?" Hilda asked the highness.

"You didn't either, witch," he retorted,
sitting up even straighter. The topic of the conversation called
for that. "I am bringing up my sons the way I see fit. Trying to do
a better job than my father did."

"'Trying' being the operative word here,"
Baba Yaga pitched in. Jordan chose not comment on that.

"I refuse to be spoken to like that!" Prince
Jordan now sat upright, appearing genuinely annoyed by what
appeared to become an inquisition.

"I'd say you have little choice here,
Jordan," Hilda calmly said. "Let's get to the points, and get this
over with. Step one, you stop feeding stuff to your children that
is not good for them. Step one, you stop feeding yourself with the
same stuff. Makes for a bad example."

"Shouldn't that be step two?" Jordan asked.
"You have two steps one."

Hilda treated him to a devastating look. "All
steps one should be done together. Don't interrupt me. Step one.
Stop eating so much. Your belly is already fatter than your
father's, and the way he looks is insulting. It's also quite the
remedy against love."

Prince Jordan observed the object of
attention for a moment. "It's not too bad."

"I recall the time that you could get on a
horse alone, Jordan. Somehow I don't see that happen these days."
Hilda frowned at the prince. "And please, tell me when I'm
wrong."

"It's temporary," Jordan brought to his
feeble defense.

"Damned sure it is," Baba Yaga agreed, "we'll
see to that. And no worry, it is all part of the service."

Again Prince Jordan ignored the remark of the
ugly witch. "It's not my fault Snow White sleeps in a different
room lately," he said. Then his face froze. "Tell me I didn't say
that."

"You didn't," William assured him. "We all
did not hear that."

"Look, Jordan," Hilda said, to Esmee's
growing concern, "it's all good and fine that you care to love your
little wife inside and out and all that, but man, do give her a bit
of a break once in a while. She's not a brooding machine."

"I need heirs, to make sure the kingdom will
retain its royalty!" Jordan attempted.

"Sure, you need heirs, but you have a bundle
of them running around already, and one more on the way. Do you
want to go down in history as the prince who had more kids than
regular subjects?"

Prince Jordan looked angry. "Now don't you go
put all the blame on me. She's loving it as well, you know."

"As she should," said Hilda. Baba Yaga
snorted. Hilda ignored that.

"Jordan," William then said, "listen. Nothing
wrong with having your urges and wanting to take the steam off. But
perhaps some sensible planning and care on that account is the way
to go."

Prince Jordan stared at William. "You can't
plan things like that."

"Oh, sure you can. Stay off for a while, for
instance. Not like you're not doing that now, is it? Of course,
there is another option. That would would require some care, but
would take away the need to do some planning."

Prince Jordan was all ears suddenly. "Tell,
wizard, what way is that?" Hilda and Esmee looked as if they wanted
to know about that too. Baba Yaga did not seem very interested in
all that talk.

"Well," said William, "there is a way to make
sure you can get all the horizontal exercise you want, and that
kids are not a result of that."

"And what might that be?" Hilda asked,
cutting off the prince who had the same question.

"Well, it is only a small action that needs
doing," the wizard said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Nothing difficult,
really."

"Will it hurt?" Prince Jordan asked.

"Yes. Not for long, but it will."

Jordan scowled. "I don't like pain."

"Not many people do, but everything has a
price," William said, "and look at it from the bright side: you
have to put up with it for a while, but Snow White is pregnant and
not sleeping with you anyway. So the timing could not be better,
could it?"

The prince saw the reasoning in that. Still,
the prospect of pain was not very appealing. "Is there a chance
that I could lessen the pain in a way?"

Baba Yaga tossed in that there could be a
generous supply of medical alcohol, or some magically induced sleep
to make things more bearable. William had to grin; clearly the
witch was more interested than she wanted them to know. Prince
Jordan was very susceptible to the idea of medicinal alcohol. "But
what about the care? You said there would be some care?"

"Yes," William said. "Step one, you will have
to lose a considerable amount of weight, otherwise the pain will
take longer to go away. And I am talking about months, if not
years, young man. If you get that belly off it will be mere days."
Prince Jordan nodded. He had just heard another very good reason to
reshape his physique. "And point two, after the procedure you will
have to refrain from any horizontal activity for a while, to make
sure everything's fine down there."

"DOWN THERE?" Prince Jordan had just learnt
about a very good reason not to go one with all this.

"Of course," William said, "that's where all
the trouble started, right? You always have to yank out trouble by
the root."

"YANK OUT?" Another reason to just forget
about the whole deal. It also was good for making all blood
evacuating from his cheeks, leaving his face a pale mass.

"Figuratively speaking, prince," William
reassured the young man. "There won't be any physical yanking."

"Oh. Good." The thought of someone doing
anything violent to his 'down there' made the prince's face flush
all red: his blood was reclaiming its rightful place. (Royal blood
is not blue.)

"So does that mean we have a deal?" Hilda
asked.

Prince Jordan asked for some time to think it
all over. After all, and everyone understood that, it was quite a
decision to make. "I should also talk about that with my wife, the
princess," he announced. "Maybe she is opposed to the idea of not
having more children."

"Somehow I think you don't have to worry
about that, but do talk to her. That is a good thing to do," Hilda
advised him. "I'm glad we had this talk, Jordan. Make Snow White
proud. And your sons too."

"Uhhuh," Prince Jordan said. He was not yet
very convinced of it all, but at least this conversation was over
now. He did have a lot to talk about with Snow White.

As the magical people left, and he still
couldn't grasp that Esmee was now really one of them, he stared at
the tray of food and the bottle of wine. It hurt, but he didn't
touch any of it. Better start as soon as possible on that
particular step one...

Once they were quite far from Prince Jordan's
rooms, Esmee stood still. "Tell me that didn't happen."

"It didn't happen," said Hilda. "Why?"

"That's no way to talk to a Prince! That's
why!" Esmee bit her lower lip. "I mean, you were talking about
his... his..."

"Yes. We were. And he did too. Looks like you
are the only one that had a problem with it, Esmee, and it's not
even yours," said Hilda as she took the flower witch by the arm and
urged her to walk on again. "Jordan sees the benefits of it all. He
may not be too happy when it all goes down, but by then it's a done
deal anyway."

William grinned just too loudly. "What's your
problem, Willy?" Baba Yaga asked. "Something you know that we
don't?" William said he'd tell them later, outside, once they were
away from the curious ears of servants.

"Why are we going outside?" Esmee wanted to
know.

"You still have a frog to turn back,
remember?" he reminded her.

"Oh. Yes. I had forgotten."

"That's bad, Esmee. A good witch forgets
nothing," Baba Yaga told her protegé.

"Oh? Who told you that?"

"Don't really remember, sort of must have
slipped my mind." As it was Baba Yaga who said that, there were no
comments or remarks.

Once outside, they looked for a quiet spot in
the large gardens. They found one with a nice lawn, some flowerbeds
in it, and a marble bench next to it. Baba Yaga sat down on the
bench, and together with Hilda she explained to Esmee the trick
behind turning people into a frog. And how to turn one back
again.

"I wonder if it hurts," said Esmee, after
listening intently for a while. Babs said that she had no idea, as
nobody had ever succeeded in turning her into a frog. Hilda and
William told her that they had never heard anyone complain about
it. "But," William added, "that might also be because of the shock
after being changed."

Hilda offered Esmee to turn her into a frog,
so she would have first hand experience. The pink witch was not
very keen to find out, but the three insisted, so finally Esmee
accepted to be turned into one. She made them promise to turn her
back quickly too.

They left the honour of changing Esmee to
Baba Yaga, as she was the self-appointed mentor. Babs popped up her
wand and spoke the spell. Esmee's clothes fell into a heap and the
frog that had been a pink witch dropped on top of them. "That went
well," said Baba Yaga, "I don't get to change many witches."