Legend tells that it was Brian Pengareth, first king of Nantrelor, who built Brelor Castle, here upon Moon Hill, and there is little reason to doubt that he did begin it, “...which succeeding generations have since re-edified”, as the guidebook says. Meaning that what was probably just a crude wooden stockade, built upon the remains of an ancient hill fort, has over the centuries grown into a formidable fortress. Such is the seat of power, from which many kings and queens of the Pengareth line have ruled the kingdom, for the most part wisely and justly.



But few were more beloved that the late King Robert, taken from them far too soon, in the full bloom of manhood, leaving but one child, a daughter, as his lawful heir. And now the heavy burden falls young shoulders. The King is dead, long live Queen Lucilla. Long live Queen Lucy!


Almost a month has passed since the funeral and the official period of mourning will soon be over. It is also three days since the events previously described, and as the early morning sun warms the ancient stones of Brelor Castle, Viscountess Zenobia Trewarne is early abroad, hoping for a quiet hours fishing in the castle moat before breakfast...



Zenobia, or 'Nobby' to her friends, is cousin to the young queen. She was made ward to the late king when her own parents perished in a tragic accident at sea, and has since been like a big sister to Lucy. She was attending school in England when she heard of the king's death, and hurried back to Nantrelor to be with Lucy. After the funeral she stayed on as Lady in Waiting.

Alas, the morning’s tranquillity cannot last long, for that is Jenny, Her Majesty’s chamber maid, on her way with a message. She spends much of her time doing that lately, the castle being rather understaffed at present and Zenobia spends much of her time receiving such messages. She had hoped, at such an early hour, for some respite but alas, it was not to be.



“Beg’ pardon Lady Zenobia. Her Highness sends her compliments, an’ she wants the two of you for breakfast”.

“I always suspected it, Jenny. But she can jolly well have cornflakes like the rest of us and lump it!”



“Ha ha, oh m’lady you’re a caution! But you know what I means, she wants you both to join her for breakfast. And dressed, so she says, though I can’t imagine as you’d turn up naked”.

“Ah, well you know these aristocratic types Jenny: breakfast, lunch, dinner, high-tea, or whatever – it’s not so much what’s on the menu, as what’s in the wardrobe. If they didn’t have the right outfit for the occasion they’d starve to death.



“And if i had to depend upon fish, so would I. It doesn’t look as if I’m going to catch anything bigger than this today in any case, Jenny. Will you wake Sleeping Beauty or shall I?”



“Well, I think I’ll leave that job to you M’lady, if you don’t mind. I know what that one is like if you wake her too early. Takes after her dad for temper, she does”.



“An’ if it’s fish you’re wanting M’lady, I’ll have Cook fry you up a nice fish supper this evening and have it brought out for you”.

“Oh, you’re an angel Jenny. And so is Cook. Give her I nice big sloppy kiss for me!”

“Ooh, I dunno as I should do that, M’lady. Most like she’d come after me with a rolling pin!”



"Hold onto the thought, Zenobia: A nice fish supper, sitting around the camp fire, under a clear summer night’s sky fretted with heavenly fire… always supposing Her Highness let’s us go on camping out like this”.



"Wakey wakey, sleepy head. It’s not your hansom prince, I’m afraid, you’ll have to hold on a few years for him. It’s only me, your favourite cousin, so you won’t have me tied in a sack and thrown into the moat, will you my dearest heart?”.



“Well, I suppose not Nobby, I feel more like chucking myself in. Is it really time to get up already? Seems like I only just went to sleep…



“Oh Nobby! The sun’s barely up yet! What’s the idea waking me up at this ungodly hour? Is that the act of a best friend? Or of a favourite cousin? I ask you now, is it?”

“Sorry, sweet cuz, but needs must. I was hoping for a quiet morning too, but then came a harbinger of woe, in shape of Jenny bearing ill hap in her pocket and a shadow athwart the sun of our merry making. In brief, we’re to attend Aunt Beatrice for breakfast. Properly attired, I may add, hair brushed and orderly, and faces, hands and (most particularly) necks well scrubbed. It’s hard cheese, I know, but what can we do?”



“Oh well, the holiday’s over I suppose. Not that camping out in the castle grounds was much of a holiday, but it was a pleasant change. And at least I could look at the mountains, even if I couldn’t go and explore them”.



“It’s not fair, Nobby! Not fair on you, I mean. Just because I have to be a prisoner here, there’s no reason why you should be. You could have gone back to school ages ago and had fun with all your chums”.

“And leave you all alone here with Aunt Beatrice? No, Lucy, I won’t do it! Oh, she’d love to pack me off back to school, wouldn’t she? Couldn’t wait to get rid of me, and inflict some frightful old witch of a governess on you. But she can’t force me, and she knows it.



“Besides, I think I’ve had my fill of school: all that jolly hockey sticks stuff, and everybody competing to be the most popular girl; hero worshipping anybody who biffs in a last minute goal and saves the match for the ‘good old coll’. You can keep it! And, as for chums, well my very best chum is right here in front of me!”



“So, please don’t feel bad on my behalf, Lucy. I came home for Uncle Robert’s funeral, but I stayed on because you needed a friend with you – not a lot toadying courtiers, or some horrid old governess. And if Brelor Castle really were a prison, and you were in it, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but right there beside you.



“We’d best get our skates on: the sooner we’re ‘suitably dressed’ the sooner we can get a suitable breakfast. Believe me Lucy, the food’s better here than back at school. Think: bacon and eggs, with toast or fried bread, a few mushrooms, maybe, delicately fried to a golden blush”.

“Hmm, I’d give the royal assent to all of that! Come then, dear cuz. let us go robe ourselves in customary suits of solemn black “.

“Oh Lucy! Have you been reading Hamlet again? You should try Treasure Island for a change. Bloodthirsty pirates are far more fun than mad Danish princes who go foraging around graveyards at night picking up skulls”.