My Name is Not Peaseblossom Read online

  DEDICATION

  To Mr Wm. Shakespeare,

  the first begetter of these stories.

  And to those who love,

  everywhere and when.

  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Author’s Notes

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Also by Jackie French

  Back Ads

  Copyright

  CHAPTER 1

  The early morning sun crouched on the dusty horizon. I could feel its warmth on my wings as Puck and I flew over the Amazons’ camp. It smelled of horse-milk cheese, leather tents and the adrenaline of the battle to come.

  Below us, the warrior women strapped on their leather armour or checked the curved blades of their war axes. Legend said Amazons’ axes were forged from an iron star that fell from the sky, and nothing could break a star-forged axe. But no one who’d fought an Amazon had lived to give the details.

  All the warriors, even their horses, were gaunt. Drought had eaten their land, and if they couldn’t win the right to graze these grasslands, they would all die of starvation. Their children would die too, and their male slaves — for even Amazons needed men to breed with.

  The children sat quiet and white-faced with their grandmothers, watching their mothers prepare for war. These girls knew what was happening today — and what would happen if the Amazons lost. Winning armies were never kind, not even to small girls and grandmothers.

  ‘Hold on a moment, boy. I’ve got a cramp in my wing,’ Puck called to me.

  He perched on one of the leather tents, right above two Amazon warriors tightening their breast guards. I was glad Puck and I were no bigger than bees today. These women looked like they didn’t take any nonsense.

  I flew down next to him, fanning my wings to cool us off. Even so early in the day, heat shimmers rose from the grasslands around us.

  ‘I don’t see why we couldn’t have TAPed right into the battle,’ I complained.

  TAP (time and place manipulation) was one of the best things about being a fairy — plus flying, magic potions and being almost immortal, as long as you didn’t annoy their fairy majesties. Fairies who irritated King Oberon or Queen Titania tended to end up as mice or snails — creatures that live short lives. Especially if Queen Titania commanded an attendant to stomp on them.

  Puck winked at me. ‘Listen, boy, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past ten thousand years, it’s to stop and admire the view.’

  Ten thousand years of making potions! No wonder the old boy needed me along on a job like this. I glanced enviously at the blue buckskin breeches that Puck wore. He worked directly for King Oberon. Oberon’s courtiers were allowed to wear silk hose and leather doublets too. The male attendants who worked for Queen Titania, like me, wore white rose-petal kilts, which were breezy in the nether regions, but she liked us to keep our chests bare.

  But today I was doing something much more interesting than brushing Her Majesty’s hair, or massaging her feet, or polishing dew drops. I’d been Puck’s part-time apprentice for almost fifty years now, ever since the old boy’s arthritis got too bad for him to crush snail shells fine enough. This was my first official role. And it was a big one. The flask of love potion in my belt was going to create one of the greatest romances of history, or my name wasn’t Peaseblossom. That triumph would get me the job of Puck’s permanent assistant, and his job when he retired. I’d never have to wear a rose petal again.

  Every Midsummer’s Eve, Queen Titania demanded two weddings must take place at her Midsummer Feast: first, a marriage of famous mortals to watch and laugh at before the revels began; and then a fairy wedding before the feast. This year the whole Fairy Court would watch me get married. But first we had to set up the mortals’ wedding. Not easy, when the chosen bride and groom were going to try to kill each other today. But I had the potion and a plan.

  I looked around the Amazons’ camp, then at the fortress of Athens about five kilometres away, perched on its great rock.

  ‘Come on,’ I said to Puck, fluttering my wings impatiently. ‘The Athenian army is coming out the gates.’

  King Theseus led the way on his own small shaggy pony. Today he wore a helmet with blue feathers instead of a crown, but there was no doubt he was a king. He was already a legend among warriors — killer of the Minotaur.

  His men followed him in their sweaty leather armour, their dark hair held back by leather bands, marching in formation across the grasslands towards us. Each soldier held his spears, with a dagger at his belt. The sun cracked into shards off their bronze shields and swords. Some rode shaggy horses, so small each rider’s feet almost dragged on the ground.

  Someone yelled a warning in the Amazon camp.

  Queen Hippolyta strode forward to speak to her warriors as they lined up ready to face the Athenians: archers first, the long-legged horses of the cavalry behind. Hippolyta was almost two metres tall. Her trousers were stained with old blood, and her long blonde hair was tucked up under her leather helmet. She didn’t look eager for battle. Great leaders never do.

  She raised her voice and spoke calmly to each woman in her army. ‘This battle is for the lives of our family and friends. Let all who fight today return to camp with their shield or on it! No coward’s blood shall ever shame the name of the Amazon. Today we fight and live!’

  Her army surged forward.

  I looked at Puck.

  He shrugged. ‘Enjoy the sunlight, boy. It’ll take them at least an hour to get into position. Armies don’t move fast. They keep their energy for the battle.’

  He took a flask from his belt and gulped a swig of what he claimed was arthritis potion. It smelled more like Dew Brew than essence of hedgehog.

  Dust melded with sunlight as the many horses’ hooves tore up the grass. At last both armies stopped about half a kilometre from each other, waiting for the word to charge. Above them an eagle soared, waiting. It knew it would feast on the dead tonight.

  The King of Athens stepped forward, alone, sword in one hand, shield in the other. He marched with even steps towards the Amazon army. One of his men called to him, but Theseus didn’t look back.

  Queen Hippolyta gazed at him as he approached. She understood what he intended.

  Puck and I knew too: it was standard for battles during this time. Theseus would offer terms for the Amazons’ surrender. If Hippolyta accepted, no one need die today. Her people would live — until they starved. She would offer terms too. But no one — including Hippolyta — would expect Theseus to accept them.

  ‘Come on!’ I said, and made a beeline for the armies. Puck flapped slowly behind me.

  Hippolyta said something to her nearest warrior, but I was still too far away to hear. She lifted the gold diadem from her head and gave it to the warrior to hold; then she hefted her shield and her war axe. By now I was hovering above her, still bee-sized, and heard her next words.

  ‘If the Athenians attack while I negotiate with the King, behead each man. But spare the women in the city, and any boy child under the age of twelve.’

  Hippolyta stepped towards King Theseus. I followed, a few metres above her. I had never heard such silence, despite the spears and axes held at the ready. No one se
emed to breathe as Theseus and Hippolyta stopped about ten paces from each other.

  Hippolyta spoke first. ‘Surrender. If you lay down your arms, we will give you and your army three days to leave the city. We will spare any woman who chooses to remain here with her children.’

  Theseus met her eyes. ‘Men have held the rock of Athens since the first giants hurled it from the sky. There will be no surrender.’

  ‘Our force is larger than yours, my women’s weapons stronger.’ Hippolyta’s voice was almost gentle. She didn’t want to kill these soldiers, nor the boys who would grow up to be Greek soldiers too, although she would if she had to. ‘Our star iron can cut through bronze.’

  ‘Not if the swordsman is quick enough.’

  She smiled at that. ‘Are you quick enough?’

  Theseus didn’t smile. ‘Perhaps. The fortress on this rock has never fallen in man’s memory. If you defeat us on this plain, we will draw back behind its walls. My people have food for a ten-year siege, and springs for water. Can your army sit here for ten years?’

  ‘If we must. At least there is grass here.’ Hippolyta looked at him seriously. ‘While you hide behind the walls of your great fortress, we will harvest your wheat fields, your olive trees. There is no turning back for us. Our land is parched. The full moon led us here to what must be our new home.’ She shrugged. ‘There is nowhere further for us to go now, except into the sea.’

  Theseus nodded. He too didn’t seem to want this battle, but was ready to fight it. Theseus of Athens would never surrender. This was the man who had beaten a giant single-handedly at the isthmus and killed the Minotaur of Crete. He had never lost a battle.

  ‘We will not retreat behind the fortress’s walls,’ he said shortly. ‘We will not surrender. Our feet are on our native soil. Our blood will feed it as we die. It seems the blood of your people will also enrich our grass now.’

  ‘Come on!’ puffed Puck, catching up with me, wings flapping furiously. ‘Use the potion.’

  ‘Not yet,’ I whispered. ‘Something is happening.’

  ‘Of course something is happening. Two armies are about to chop each other into pieces. Move, boy!’

  ‘Not yet,’ I said again.

  Hippolyta nodded, as if she had expected Theseus’s answer. ‘There is a way only one person need die today,’ she said quietly.

  Theseus’s eyebrows lifted. ‘How?’

  ‘We fight in single combat, you and I. If you lose, your army will open the city gates to us. Athens will be ours. If I lose, my army will depart.’

  He frowned. ‘Your women will follow your orders even when you are dead?’

  ‘Of course. I have already told them what I planned. Will your men follow your orders?’

  Again, Theseus assessed her. Was this a trick, he seemed to be wondering. Did she plan to kill him and then attack his leaderless army?

  Slowly, he nodded. ‘Wait here.’

  ‘You were right,’ said Puck, reluctantly admiring. ‘I underestimated you, Peaseblossom. This is interesting.’

  Most people did underestimate me. But if this went well, the Fairy Court would be talking about me for years.

  ‘She’s a true queen, just like he’s a king,’ I said. ‘Both of them would sacrifice themselves for their people.’

  Hippolyta stood calmly as Theseus walked back to his men. She held her axe lightly, gazing at the sky, the eagle and the sea beyond. This might be the last time she saw them. She was living each second that remained to her.

  Puck and I waited too, our wings outstretched, balancing on the breeze. Probably no one would have noticed us even if we’d decided to be human-sized. All eyes were on the King. He spoke with several men, who must be his generals. Whispers rose from them, like wasps buzzing. A few called out in protest. Theseus hushed them with a lifted hand. Once more the Athenian army stood in silence beneath the sun.

  Theseus walked back to meet the Queen. ‘I agree to the terms,’ he said. ‘If I die, my army and my people will abandon the fortress and these lands. If you die, your army will depart.’

  Of course his men had agreed, I thought. None of those Athenians could imagine a woman beating a hero like Theseus. But I had seen Amazons fight before. I suspected Theseus also knew how well they could fight. Would the Athenians follow their king’s order and surrender if Theseus’s blood spilled on the plain of Athens today? I doubted it. They would assume he had died by trickery, that no woman could slay a man in equal combat. And the Amazons — how would they react if their queen was killed?

  Even as I thought it, Theseus asked again, ‘Will your women really retreat as you have promised?’

  ‘We keep our word,’ Hippolyta said calmly. ‘But I will not die today.’

  Theseus did smile at that. ‘Really? We will see.’ He twirled . . .

  Hippolyta hadn’t expected the attack to be so swift, and yet she parried it, thrusting her shield up to meet his sword, leaving her axe arm free.

  Puck nudged me, his wings shivering. His wings always quivered when he was excited. ‘Get moving, Peaseblossom,’ he hissed.

  ‘I want to see who wins.’

  ‘Who wins? If either of them wins, the other will be dead!’

  ‘Who might win then. I don’t think it’s going to be a swift fight,’ I added. ‘Don’t worry — I can slice a second into shreds. If one of them looks like landing a killing blow, I’ll get there first.’

  I gazed at the two warriors slashing and clashing on the battlefield. Theseus and Hippolyta knew each other’s abilities now. You could almost feel them assess each other between each stroke.

  Neither of their armies yelled encouragements or insults. They would not distract their champion in this critical combat.

  ‘He’s stronger and broader-shouldered, but she’s taller and has a longer reach,’ I said. ‘I’d say they’re equally matched.’

  ‘I’d say that Her Majesty Queen Titania will turn you into a toad for the next two centuries if you mess up her midsummer fun,’ Puck countered. His wings had turned pale pink with worry. ‘Her Majesty won’t want a royal bride with her nose cut off, or a groom who’s lost his fingers. Do you want to be my permanent assistant or not, boy?’

  ‘Of course I do!’ I wanted this job so badly I could taste it. A job with true power . . .

  ‘Then get in there with the heartsease juice, boy. Now! Hippolyta nearly had Theseus’s arm off that time. You know Her Majesty demands perfection!’

  ‘Don’t get your wings in a twist. I’m going!’

  I flew down, taking the long way through the army of Amazons. The women stood motionless as they watched their queen fight, their breasts and hard sweaty muscles bound tightly by their leather armour. I moved at the speed of light, but in fairy terms it was slow enough to see the colour of the warriors’ eyes. Blue, mostly. Had there ever been an army as beautiful before or since?

  Though their beauty was nothing to me, I reminded myself, as I swooped towards the King and Queen so fast it seemed his sword and her axe hung in the air. I was getting married in three days. My fiancée was the Fairy Floss, though everyone called her Flossie. I’d only met her once. She was First Assistant Tooth Fairy for the entire north-west region and had a fine career ahead of her. She was even pretty in a toothy kind of way, though it didn’t matter if she hadn’t been. A sprinkle of heartsease potion in our eyes at the wedding ceremony and Flossie and I would love each other forever.

  Just like Theseus and Hippolyta would adore each other as soon as I managed to get the heartsease potion into their eyes.

  I reached Theseus just as he kneeled to try to hack off Hippolyta’s left leg. I squeezed the juice into his eyes, then flew up to her, hovering above her face as she brought her battle axe down towards his skull. I wondered briefly who she might have loved if I left her untouched by the potion. Assuming she lived, of course.

  And was there a woman watching Theseus from the fortress walls? A woman he had loved last night and as he’d parted from her this morni
ng? If there was, today would be as hard for her as if he’d died, for Theseus would never look at her again.

  But my meddling was a good thing, I reminded myself. I wasn’t just ensuring a grand royal wedding to begin Queen Titania’s midsummer festivities — I was ending the war between two armies. Many people would have died here, if not for me. Instead, they would dance. And maybe Theseus and Hippolyta would have loved each other if they’d had the chance. Both were warriors, rulers. Both were willing to give their lives for their people. But we’d never know. A squirt of potion in each of their eyes and I’d changed their lives, and changed history too.

  I fluttered back up to Puck, still bee-sized, grinning. I’d also made sure Her Majesty would have a fascinating Midsummer’s Eve.

  Hippolyta blinked, as if the world had been sepia and had suddenly gained colour. She lowered her axe. Her warriors murmured to each other.

  Theseus had already flung his sword away. He looked at his hands: a soldier’s hands, a king’s hands and now, suddenly, a lover’s. Then he looked back at Hippolyta.

  They stood there, each as still as the rock of Athens, staring at each other.

  Yells erupted from both armies, cheering their heroes on.

  ‘Hurry up, you idiots,’ I muttered. ‘If you don’t move soon, the armies will charge.’

  ‘Humans . . .’ Puck shook his head. ‘It can take them years to recognise they’ve fallen in love.’

  ‘Well, this pair had better do it quickly or their armies will be slashing at each other before you can say “honeysuckle wine”!’

  Theseus and Hippolyta stepped forward. I couldn’t tell who caught the other first, but I saw their lips meet. Her hands clutched at his back, then twined around him.

  The armies stopped yelling faster than a pin can spear a butterfly. Silence fell like a cloak over the Athenian plain. Then suddenly both armies were cheering, everyone beating their spears or battle axes on their shields.

  The Athenians’ voices thundered across the plain. ‘Theseus!’

  ‘Hippolyta!’ yelled the Amazons, just as loud.

  The Amazons assumed Theseus had fallen so madly in love with their queen that he’d surrendered. The Athenians thought Hippolyta had been overcome with passion for their king. Both were pretty much the case, even if it was all thanks to me and the heartsease potion Puck had taught me to make half a century or so ago. And Queen Titania too, because if she hadn’t wanted a royal wedding to kick off her Midsummer Feast, Puck and I would never have come here.