Eva Ibbotson - The Ogre of Oglefort

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?”

He pointed to the bird, which had most intelligently taken off from the rock and was now making a graceful curve upward before winging its way toward the sea.

Umberto squinted at the sky. He couldn’t see much because he was very shortsighted but he had got the message.

“White bird,” he repeated dopily. And then, “Can’t marry a bird. Wouldn’t do.”

“No. You can’t marry her. But you can go and tell her parents how happy Mirella is. How she has got exactly what she wanted. Maybe they’ll give you a reward for bringing them such lovely news.”

Umberto smiled. One word had got through to him.

“Reward,” he said. “Pay the tailor… pay the bookies… pay everyone…”

“That’s right,” said Ivo. “Now let’s see if we can catch your horse.”

The horse had been at liberty for long enough. He wanted his stable, and he let himself be caught and mounted by the prince.

“Here, you can have my sandwich,” said Ivo, feeling in his pocket. “Now you know where to go — over the hill and through that copse and then straight out the way you came. And remember how pleased they’ll be when you tell them about Mirella.”

“Reward,” said Umberto, smiling his foolish smile, and Ivo watched as the prince rode away and out of sight.

I suppose it might have been worse,” said Ivo. “I mean they might have eaten people, like Germania used to. After all they are ogresses.”

But not much worse, because the aunts were thoroughly nasty. They had arrived the day before, stomping into the castle on their great feet — and immediately started giving orders.

“You there,” said the Aunt-with-the-Ears, pointing to the Hag. “I suppose you’re the cook. I eat five times a day and my meals must be on the table the moment I appear.”

“I shall dig up my own meals,” said the Aunt-with-the-Nose, “but I want my shoes cleaned with special polish — and the polish must NOT SMELL, do you understand,” she said, addressing the troll.

“You can carry my bag up to my room,” said the Aunt-with-the-Eyes, glaring at the wizard. “But I will not be waited on by servants who have specks of dust on their clothes. Clean yourself up before I see you again.”

Then they handed the trolley over to Ivo and said, “You and that girl there will look after Clarence. He must not get chilled.” She scowled at Charlie. “And if that dog doesn’t stop barking it’ll be the worse for him.”

And as they stomped off to find the ogre, their loud voices carried back to the rescuers.

“The first thing I’m going to do when I inherit the castle is get rid of those useless servants,” said the Aunt-with-the-Nose. “I’ve never seen such a sorry-looking bunch.”

“What makes you think you’re going to inherit the castle?” said the Aunt-with-the-Ears. She put her hands over the sides of her face. “Those spiders are making a quite unnecessary racket,” she muttered angrily. “It’s perfectly possible to spin a web without making a noise. The whole place is an inferno — I must find my earplugs. When I inherit I’m getting the place cleared.”

The Aunt-with-the-Eyes was peering disgustedly at the cracks in the flagstones. “Full of dirt, full of dust. I can’t live in a place like this. It must be scoured and scrubbed from top to toe before I move in.”

The ogre was waiting for them in his room and when they saw him all three aunts stopped dead.

“What are you doing out of bed?” asked the Aunt-with-the-Nose angrily. “You said you were ill.”

“I hope we haven’t come all this way for nothing,” said the Aunt-with-the-Ears.

“You do not seem to me to be dying,” said the Aunt-with-the-Eyes. “I hope you haven’t been playing a trick on us.”

The ogre was wearing a rather elegant dressing gown, and underneath, though the aunts could not see this, was a pair of shorts which he had been trying on because he thought they would look good to wear on the deck of the cruise ship. He was a little bit hurt that the aunts were not pleased that he had recovered, but he quickly reassured them.

“No, no. Not at all. I’ve decided to go away for a very long time. On a cruise. Germania thinks it would do me good. But altogether I don’t want to own things anymore. I want to lead a free and roaming life until it’s time to get into the mound, so I’m definitely going to leave the castle to one of you. I thought you might like to have a week to look around the place and then come and tell me what you would do with it — and the person who comes up with the best idea shall have it.”