“Perhaps that’s a good idea,” said the Hag. “After all you’re not old yet.”
“It isn’t as though your wife doesn’t want you,” said the troll. “She just wants you later. A great many people feel like that.”
“Yes.” But the ogre was staring into space in a gloomy manner. “Only I don’t know where to go to enjoy myself. It’s not really what I do.”
“I know,” said Mirella. “You could go on a cruise. They’re really good — you go to all sorts of places, and they play games on the deck.”
The ogre looked at her. Then his hand came down hard on the kitchen table. “Of course! The fingernail boat. Just the thing. It’s an old Viking ship made from the fingernails of dead warriors. The god Thor caused it to be built. It goes to all sorts of interesting places — the halls of the dead and the battlefields of heroes — and the passengers are people like me: ogres, satyrs, giants. You’re right, I haven’t been getting out enough.”
But though everyone thought that a cruise was a good idea, they weren’t so sure about a ship made of the fingernails of dead warriors.
“Don’t you think you’d be better on a proper cruise liner — the Empress of the Seas or one of those,” said Mirella. “Then you could throw rubber rings over nets and go to tea dances and things like that.”
The ogre said he would look into it. He was getting excited now, pacing up and down.
“The only thing is, what about the aunts?” said the wizard. “They’re coming because they think you’re on your deathbed and they’re going to inherit the castle.”
“And so they are,” he said. “So they are — one of them at least. I’m tired of owning things; I want to be free now. Completely free to circle the world until it’s time to join Germania. I shall ask each of them to tell me what they would do with the castle if they inherited it, and the one who comes up with the best plan shall have it. Now isn’t that a good idea?”
They all agreed that it was. But of course for them, time was running out. Whichever aunt inherited would want to be rid of them, that was for sure. Whipple Road was coming very close.
Though she dreaded the arrival of the aunts, the Hag now set herself to organize a great cleaning of the castle. Everyone helped her, scrubbing and tidying and making beds. It was not an easy task, because the ogre was now up and about and having “good” ideas about how things should be done. He had not seen the aunts for many years and was excited at the thought of the reunion. Fortunately he spent a lot of time looking into different cruises and wondering what he should wear on board.
Though she was not fond of housework, Mirella made a point of helping the Hag: quite apart from anything else she wanted to make sure that no insects or spiders were swept into the dustpan. So it happened that three days after the battle, Ivo went on his own to finish off some digging in the herb garden — and found the gnu looking perplexed.
“Something’s come up,” he said. “Bessie’s found something by the lake.”
So Ivo followed him to the far side of the lake and found the hippopotamus staring at something very unexpected.
“He’s been here ever since the battle,” she said. “He must have fallen off and got left behind. I thought he’d wake up and go away but he hasn’t. He’s coming around now though, I think.” She bent over the figure lying on the grass and pushed him carefully with her snout. “His horse is grazing over there. Funny-looking bloke, isn’t he?”
Ivo agreed that he was. He had recognized Prince Umberto immediately. The prince’s helmet had come off, his uniform was muddied, but there was no doubt that this was Mirella’s suitor.
“You’re right,” said Ivo to Bessie. “He’s coming around.”
Umberto was stirring. Now he opened his pale, vacant eyes and looked about him. He had dyed blond hair and a stupid face, and Ivo understood at once that Mirella would rather do anything in the world than marry him.
“Eh… what the devil… where…?” muttered the prince.
Ivo waited. Umberto must have had a severe concussion, lying there for days. Perhaps he had forgotten why he was here.
But he had not.
“Mirella,” he said, trying to sit up. “Got to fetch her.… Parents want her.…” He rubbed his forehead. “I want her, too. Need her. Need her money.”
“Yes, of course you do,” said Ivo soothingly. “Just wait here, I’ll get you some water from the lake. It’s quite clean, you’re safe to drink it.”
He brought back a pitcher and watched as the prince drank and spluttered and drank again.
“Must find her,” he said, trying to get to his feet. And then, looking about him: “I had a horse.”
“Your horse is safe,” said Ivo. “You’ll be able to ride back.”
But Umberto was getting very upset. “Mirella… must find Mirella. Have to marry her. Have to because of no money.”
He started blundering about, muttering and peering, and Ivo watched him anxiously, wondering what to do. If Umberto found his way back to the castle, Mirella would go berserk; even seeing him from the battlements had made her throw up. On the other hand if he went back to the palace he might stir up the army again.
Ivo looked longingly at the lake. Pushing Umberto in would be easy enough and Bessie would see that he didn’t surface again, but he hadn’t really been brought up to murder people, even people as stupid as the prince.
It was as he was wondering what to do that he saw a white bird alight on the flat rock in the middle of the water. It was a large bird, very graceful and beautiful with a curved beak — a kind of gull, perhaps, or a tern, in from the sea. He wasn’t sure what it was — but Mirella would have known.
And at that moment, Ivo knew exactly what to do.
He went up to the prince, who had collapsed on a tree stump, and bent over him.
“Listen, Your Highness; I’ve something to tell you. Something very special and important. Can you hear me?”
Umberto blinked and turned his head. “Hear you…” he repeated.
“It’s about Mirella. But you must be brave. You must prepare for a shock.”
“Shock…” muttered Umberto. It was not easy to tell whether he was still suffering from concussion or just thick.
“I know you love Mirella — you must do if you’re engaged to marry her.”
“What? Yes, must do… Must love her…”
“And of course if you love somebody you want them to be happy, don’t you?”
Umberto seemed to find this difficult to understand but when Ivo had repeated it, he nodded and said he supposed this was so.
“Well Mirella is happy. She is happier than she has ever been in her life. Just look at her!” said Ivo, throwing out his arm.
“Eh… what?… Where?…” The prince had stumbled to his feet.
“Over there. On that rock,” said Ivo. “That bird. That’s her. That’s the Princess Mirella.”
The prince collapsed onto the stump again and rubbed his head.
“Don’t understand,” he muttered.
Ivo put a hand on his shoulder.
“Do you know why Mirella came here to the ogre’s castle? Because she came of her own free will; he didn’t come for her.”
Umberto shook his head.
“Well, it was because there was something she wanted very much. She wanted it terribly. Have you any idea what it was?”
Umberto looked blank, which was not difficult for him, and said no he didn’t.
Ivo lowered his voice in a reverent sort of way. “She wanted him to turn her into a bird. She wanted to be a white bird flying high in the sky, free and alone forever.”
“Eh?”
Poor Umberto was completely out of his depth.
Ivo repeated his sentence. “That is what she wanted more than anything in the world. To be a white bird. Only the ogre didn’t want to change her, and he refused. But when he saw how brave she was on the battlements he decided to grant her wish. And yesterday, while you slept, he did it. Look,” he said, “look carefully — can’t you see how beautifully she flies — how free and happy she is?”