Dogg, the Jester, watched the Princess arrive at the castle. He knew that she was going to be furious. He didn't know how she was going to react to seeing her sister there, lying on the steps. Dogg looked at his apprentice and said, "Jimby, these are the moments that we must care not for our lives. The lives of others depends on it."

Jimby, a small girl, only 8, nodded. She smiled with a closed mouth and expressionless eyes. "She won't kill us today will she? And not the Jester's apprentice?" asked Jimby.

"That, I do not know," said the Jester.

The Jester glanced at the patched-up advisor and walked with his chest held high, towards the Princess . "I heard you tried to cut up an old ham today," said Dogg.

"Not now, fool," said the Princess, glaring at the Jester. She was kneeling next to her sister. "Come and help me."

The Jester knelt down, next to the two women.

"Princess," the sister started.

"Wait," said the Princess and yelled behind her, "Get the bodyguards ready. Tell them to search the land for my son. There is some of his clothing on the trees leading to the forest on the other side of the meadow. Go now. Find my son!"

The Princess looked down at her sister and almost snapped, "what is it?"

"The Red ... Armour ..." said the sister. "Beware of ..." The sister coughed. "Wear the Red Armour ... Be careful ... don't ..." The sisters eyes closed and she was unconscious. She was still breathing but only just. 

The Princess stood up and asked those crowding around, "Did she say anything else when she returned? Before I got here?"

The maid who was holding the sister nodded and said, "she said that your son was kidnapped by scouts of the Blood Dragon army and she needed to tell you how to get him back."

"Well, she hasn't told me anything. What good is that? And what's the package?"

"I can only assume it's the Red Armour she mentioned," said Dogg.

"It can't be, you fool. It's too small a package to contain armour. Open it!"

"Me? But it may be a trap. You wouldn't want to lose your funniest slave would you?"

"Then get the girl to do it," said the Princess pointing to Dogg's apprentice.

"I'll do it," said Dogg.

Dogg took the package from the sister's fingers. He held it in from of him.

"Do it outside," said the Princess.

Dogg walked out to the drawbridge. 

"On the other side," shouted the Princess.

Dogg walked slowly, carrying the package in front of him. He walked across the drawbridge.

Some of the people ran to the castle turrets to watch. The guards peered down at Dogg.

Dogg walked to a field of grass that lay between the castle drawbridge and the village.

Dogg stopped and turned around. His predecessor had been killed by the Princess when he had made a joke about her nose. It wasn't really a joke either, more of an observation. He had pointed out that the Princess's nose bobbed up and down in a cute way whenever she ate. That comment had irked the Princess and she had ordered his execution. At least this was a more interesting way to die, if indeed there was some strange magic inside the package. The Princess was terrified of magic and magical objects.

The Yellowhairs, in their village beyond the mountains were magicians. But here, they shunned magic and only relied on sword and arrow. Here, the weapons and armour were forged from metal that repelled the magic, but there was some magic that could sneak through the gaps. Maybe the Princess's sister had unwittingly brought in some of this dangerous magic. That's what the Princess was afraid of, thought Dogg.

Dogg breathed in slowly. He exhaled. He knelt on the ground and put the package down in front of him. His back was to the castle. There was no noise, behind him or in front of him. Some of the villagers had seen him walk towards them and had run off to their homes.

Dogg took the coarse rope in his fingers. It had been tied into a bow. He undid the bow. Nothing happened. He placed the rope to the side. He then opened the folds of leather. He felt warmth on his face, the thing inside the package was glowing vermilion. It shone on his face. He heard gasps behind him. But there was no pain. Dogg held up the red suit. 

"It doesn't look like armour, but it does look like it is meant to be worn. Feels like it would be good in winter." Dogg spread the suit out on the grass. It was the Princess's size. It was a pair of red trousers and a red tunic. It glowed and gave off warmth but it didn't look sinister. "It's too small for me to wear," the Jester yelled back at the castle. Everyone laughed.

"Leave it there," commanded the Princess, "I don't want it anywhere near the castle."

"What? Just here, on the grass?" asked Dogg.

"Yes."

Dogg stood up and walked back to the castle. The red suit lay on the grass. From the castle it looked like someone sleeping or perhaps lying, dead.

The Princess turned away from looking at it. The suit scared her, it's jagged scaly pattern and dull glow. But, she could feel it calling to her. Calling her to wear it, to put it on her skin. Her skin shivered at the thought of it.

Blood.

Blood.

Blood.

Blood squirted on the grass. It squirted from deep gashes on the arms of a small boy being held by his mother. The boy wore brown trousers, no shoes and his white shirt was ripped. The mother had pale white skin and long black hair and her clothes, a cream blouse under a long brown dress, were old and worn. She rocked her son back and forth and pressed on the son's wounds, trying to stop the blood spurting. "Stay here, stay with me, don't go," the mother said. 

The boys eyes were staring into the blue, cloudless sky, but he was breathing. He had cuts all over his body, the red stained his shirt and colour was draining from his face. He whimpered and shivered.

The boy and his mother were lying in a meadow, just outside the village, on the way to the forest. The meadow was covered in yellow dandelions, haunted by lazy dragonflies.

The boy's mother looked up and could see the castle, set on top of the gigantic boulders on the other side of the village. She knew the Princess would be on her way. The mother wanted to hide but she had no strength to carry her son.

---

The Princess crossed the drawbridge and headed straight for the village. Usually, riders would ride around. The Princess strained forward. As she passed, the villagers poked their tongues out at the Princess, only to her back though. The ashen coloured horse wanted to avoid the mud that streamed through the streets but his rider wouldn't allow it. The Princess didn't even flinch when the wet dirt flew up and splattered the ladies who were hanging up clothes to dry. The ladies grumbled under their breath.

Through the village square, the Princess rode. She was muttering and grinding her teeth. Why? Why had she let her son leave the castle?

On the other side of the village, the Princess saw the boy and his mother. She rode up to them and jumped off her horse. She drew the long straight sword from the sheath on the side of the horse. The sword was half her height and she wasn't short. She was taller than anyone in the castle, except for the old advisor.

The Princess raised the sword with two hands, her fingers grasping the gold handle tight. She stood stiff and looked awkward. With a low and slow voice she asked the mother on the ground, "Where is my son?"

"I don't know. When I got here, my son was lying, bleeding. Your son was... gone."

The Princess shrieked, "I will kill you. Both of you." She raised her sword but it made her sway, off balance, side to side.  She put the sword down by her side, breathed in and was about to raise the weapon again when the old advisor arrived with two guards from the castle. The advisor struggled off his horse, he was 87 and not a young 87.

"My lady, you must return to the castle. It's dangerous here," said the advisor.

"Go away, I will deal with this woman," said the Princess.

"No. You must not. It is against the law," said the advisor.

The Princess, grunted and lifted the sword into the air. She stepped forward and swung with her shoulders. The advisor hobbled towards her and lunged. Instead of the sword striking the mother and child, it hacked into the advisor's thigh. Blood ran down the old man's leg. His face turned the colour of curdled milk.

"Arrrgh," cried the advisor and he went down on one knee. "Argh. You cut me. I think I'm going to faint." He vomited and then wobbled. His eyes rolled in circles.

The Princess saw the blood from the advisor and it appeased her for now. She turned to the two guards, "Girls, lock up this lady and her son in the dungeons and look after the old man. I need to find my son. The Princess left her sword embedded in the advisor's leg and mounted her horse. She rode away into the forest. 

---

The sun was still a few hours from dropping behind the mountains but the forest was already dark. The Princess rode for 10 minutes and then slowed her horse and looked through the trees. The greens and browns merged together and made her feel uneasy. She could sense movement, beyond the trees, but she couldn't see anything. If her son had run off, this was the only place he could have gone without being seen by the villagers. There were no footprints on the ground, no sign of anyone running down this path. And her son was always too scared to venture beyond his comfort zone. It must have been that snotty village kid that had dragged him out of the village to the meadow. She knew she shouldn't have agreed to let her son go and play with the commoners. "It will be good for him," the advisor had said. "He'll be fine," the Jester had reassured her. Well, he wasn't fine. He was gone. Who knew what had happened to him.

The Princess turned her horse and rode back out of the forest. As she did she looked up and she saw on a tree, just at the entrance to the path, right on the top branch, a piece of ripped fabric. It was dark blue. The colour of her son's shirt that he had been wearing that morning. The Princess, dismounted and tried to climb up the tree. She wasn't good at climbing trees, never having done it as a child. She got back on her horse and headed for the castle. 

The Princess rode back through the meadow, back through the village and she could see the flags were up to welcome a visitor. Someone had come back from the war, maybe it was her father, maybe it was one of the other men. She spurred her horse forward over the drawbridge. There lying on the front steps, supported by the Princess's servant was the Princess's sister. A week ago she had ridden off to take supplies to the men who were off fighting the Blood Dragon army. Now she was back, and like the boy in the meadow her clothes too were shredded and her blood left a mess on the ground. She clutched a package in her hands. Something wrapped up in leather with a rope tied around it. The sister saw the Princess and she gasped and spluttered. "Quick, I must tell you something, before it's too late ..."

Jimby watched the Princess. Jimby would have to learn how to stop hating her if she was to become her jester. But, Dogg said it was good to start with hatred. It was a block of marble that could be chipped away at, and crafted into something powerful and beautiful. The role of jester was to challenge the leader in ways that no one else could, but that meant that there was always the danger of losing your head if you crossed an unknown line. A jester had to have the courage to venture forward with no concern for the line. Dogg could have been killed there and then if the package was more than just a red suit.

Jimby watched the Princess and the maid carry the sister away. Jimby went to the gatehouse to see the Jester. He looked unshaken. "Did you think you were about to die?" asked Jimby.

"You will learn not to worry about your death," said the Jester, "there's too much other wonderful stuff to ponder at any given time."

"Are you going to challenge the Princess about the boy and his mother? They will die in the dungeon. They need help."

"I cannot challenge her now with her sister this way. I have sent the doctors to the dungeon. They will do what they can," said the Jester.

Jimby and the Jester watched as the bodyguards prepared their horses just inside from the gatehouse. There were 8 of them. Like all the other guards in the castle and indeed like most of the people in the village, they were female. The Jester and the advisor were the only men. There were young boys around, but no other men. All the men were away, at war. 

Jimby watched the bodyguards strap their weapons to their horses. The Mechanical was going to each bodyguard, giving them special equipment that would help them on their mission. The Mechanical was a slender waif but she had silver and chrome splattered over her arms and carried a metal toolkit the size of a large dog.

The bodyguards didn't look at the Mechanical even when she spoke to them. The bodyguards held their chins up and stared out the gate. They wanted to leave. The Mechanical's shoulder's drooped. She wanted to ensure they knew what to do if they encountered any trouble but the bodyguards weren't listening. 

The Mechanical went to each horse and hung something around their necks. It was a chain with a small black orb embedded in it.

"Will that tiny thing ward off magic?" asked one of the bodyguards. The Mechanical looked happy that someone had spoken to her even though it sounded rude.

"No. Your swords and armour are designed to ward off magic. These are for something else. You wouldn't understand," said the Mechanical and she was happy to see that this last statement annoyed the bodyguard. Even though the bodyguard wanted to ask more, she didn't. Nothing the Mechanical said ever made sense.  

The Mechanical tried one more time to warn them, "If you see anything out of the ordinary, then split up and return to the castle immediately."

"We'll be fine," said the bodyguard sitting on the horse at the front of the group. "We will find the boy." She turned and looked out of the castle and started riding. The other bodyguards followed her.

The Mechanical shook her head and said to Jimby and the Jester, "You saw I did everything I could to warn them. You saw it, didn't you?"

"Yes," said the Jester. He walked up to the Mechanical. "If they die, I will throw them in the dungeon for ignoring you."

The Mechanical shook her head again. "They're going to die."

The Jester's face screwed up in a puzzled expression. He put his arm around the Mechanical's shoulders. "Let's go and get a drink. Jimby, you go up the tower and keep watch, kay?"

Jimby smiled. He knew how the Jester felt about the Mechanical. She saluted. "You two keep out of trouble," said Jimby and she climbed the wooden ladder up to the battlements. From there she would climb up the walls to the tower. She hated taking the internal staircase.

---

The Jester and the Mechanical went in the opposite direction to Jimby. They went down into the depths of the castle, first to the dungeon. There, the Jester checked that the doctors were doing all they can for the boy and his mother. When he was satisfied that they were in a stable condition he took the Mechanical even further down, to the cave tavern. This was the one place that he felt safe to be himself. The Princess never came down here.

The lady who ran the place, Mamma, was generous, motherly and could lift a full keg of beer above her head. She was the one person the Jester could confide in. He even told her his deepest desires. He was too shy to do that with the Mechanical because she was definitely a part of his desires.

"What will you drink?" asked the Jester.

"You know," said the Mechanical.

The Jester nodded and smiled at Mamma who nodded back. She poured two ales and put them in front of the Jester and the Mechanical. "Drink them quickly, before they get warm," Mamma said then went back to sit behind the bar. She closed her eyes. Mamma was always tired.

The Jester and the Mechanical sat and looked into their beers. 

"You really think they're going to die?" asked the Jester.

"Yeah."

"How do you know?"

"I'm a lot older than you," said the Mechanical, leaning on her arm.