them. Each rider was armed with a wicked-looking lance that was taller than she was.
'Ah-good day?' Megan tried in both French and German.
The soldiers surrounded the car, but they simply sat on their horses staring at her.
What was the matter with them? Megan wondered. Hadn't they ever seen a girl before? She checked that her hat was still held in place by her scarf. Was there something wrong with her coat? Had one of those bozos who'd attacked them gotten blood all over it?
Before she could ask what the problem was, the main body of horsemen arrived. Some looked as if they'd just come from a costume shop, in fancy uniforms with an embroidered jacket worn like a cape. The others were heavy cuirassiers, the guys in steel breastplates. Megan saw a familiar face among the caped riders. Sergei Cher- nevsky grinned and flipped her a salute from the visor of his uniform cap.
Sergei hastily lowered his hand and sat very straight on his saddle as a very dignified-looking old geezer creakily got down off his horse. The large white side- whiskers flanking the older man's face seemed to tremble as he hurried toward the car.
He seized Megan's hand in both of his and pressed a kiss to it. Then he looked up, exclaiming in a shaky voice, 'Thank heavens you escaped, Your Majesty!'
Chapter 4
Megan glanced around at her friends, who all were suffering from a bad case of dropped-jaw syndrome. As was the old geezer, when she looked back at him.
Okay, she thought. It makes a sort of sense. The sim is based on The Prisoner of Zenda, where a guy winds up impersonating royalty. I didn't expect Alan would take it so literally….
She grinned. Or that he fd give me such a plum role.
'On second glance, forgive me, my dear young lady,' the old geezer murmured quietly over her hand. 'Now that I've seen your attire and your companions, I realize you can't really be Princess Gwenda. But your resemblance is both astonishing and fortuitous. Please, follow my lead. You can help save my country… if you wish.'
His eyes were pleading as he looked up.
'Who are you?' Megan asked.
'I'm the Graf von Esbach,' the older man replied. 'Prime minister of Latvinia.'
Megan gave him a solemn nod. 'I thank you for your concern, Graf von Esbach,' she said in a loud voice. 'If these gentlemen hadn't come along at the right moment, those brigands would most surely have abducted me.'
Von Esbach looked up with hope in his eyes. 'Colonel Vojak, dispatch a troop in pursuit of those would- be kidnappers! I myself will accompany the princess to Herzen with a detachment of Hussars!'
P. J. vaulted from the backseat. 'Tell you what, Mr. Graf. Suppose I ride your horse while you ride this here vee-hick-ull?'
Von Esbach bowed. 'An excellent idea, Herr-'
'I'm a him,' P. J. replied with a grin. 'Bronco Jack Farris-of the Bear Creek Farrises.' He stepped over to the cavalryman holding von Esbach's mount, took the reins, and swung into the saddle. The horse immediately reared, trying to throw him, but P. J. clung to the saddle as if he were part of the animal. 'Mighty spirited piece of horseflesh for an older feller.'
'The Graf rode that horse leading the charge that broke the Ostwalder battleline during the last war,' the trooper told him.
'You could have told me that before I hopped on,' P. J. growled.
The cavalryman gave him a smile. 'And miss the Wild West show?'
Leif resumed the driving duties while Von Esbach rode in the back with Megan. Colonel Vojak rode alongside at a little distance. The Graf filled the colonel in on what had really just happened.
'Can you explain this amazing resemblance?'
Megan shrugged as newly implanted memories rose up. 'I have an ancestor who was one of the Wild Geese- soldiers who fled conquered Ireland and fought for other lands. He came home with a bride from these parts that he swore was a lost princess. We all thought it was just a wild story he made up to impress his drinking buddies.'
'Whatever the history, we must count ourselves lucky that you appeared when you did,' von Esbach replied. 'Without Princess Gwenda, Latvinia faces a dire crisis. The king, your father-' He broke off. 'The princess's father.. was a great man and a good king. But now he is on his deathbed, and traitors plan to steal the throne.'
'The princess has a cousin, Gray Piotr, Master of Grauheim,' Colonel Vojak said. 'He wishes to become master of all Latvinia.'
The prime minister nodded. 'Throughout the king's illness, Piotr has worked to install his creatures in places of power. Members of the government have resigned, or suffered… accidents.'
'Accidents? Bah!' Vojak growled. 'Several army commanders were apparently sharpening their swords, and then fell on them-backward. At least the King's Guard stays true.'
'The colonel's command,' von Esbach explained. 'For the most part, the army, the government, and indeed, the people of Latvinia are loyal. But if the king should die and his daughter not appear…'
Megan nodded. 'It would seem as though she weren't loyal. But how could this Piotr fellow get the people behind him?'
'I can only imagine-and fear,' the prime minister said. 'If the princess failed to appear, and then turned up dead, with proof that the Ostwalders had attacked her-'
'It would mean war, with every Latvinian marching for vengeance behind brave King Piotr.' Colonel Vojak looked as though he wanted to spit. 'Not that von Esbach and I need to worry about that. No doubt we'd be already dead.'
'But if I arrive in Herzen as the princess, the machinery of the plot grinds to a halt,' Megan said.
'Piotr would have to eliminate you-either through assassination or by unmasking you.' Vojak stated the situation unflinchingly.
'But we can hope and pray that the true Princess Gwenda would remain alive,' Graf von Esbach said.
'Alive-but a prisoner,' Megan pointed out. 'Where would this Gray Piotr be holding her?'
'Anywhere in his domains,' Vojak replied. 'Grau- heim is the tallest mountain in Latvinia, surrounded by some of our wildest countryside. There are more hunting lodges, old fortresses, and plain robbers' dens than anyone could count.'
'Starting now, they'll have to be counted-and checked,' Leif spoke up from the front of the car. 'Miss O'Malley's appearance buys you some time. But neither the country nor the real princess is safe until she's rescued.'
'All too true,' Colonel Vojak growled.
As they'd driven along, the valley had widened still farther, turning into rich farmland. Now a large town or small city appeared in the distance, quaint, old-fashioned buildings surrounding an even older medieval wall. Dominating everything for miles around was a castle or palace in the middle of the town. As Megan stared, a red rocket shot up from one of the towers. 'We've been spotted.' Colonel Vojak turned to Megan with a formal bow. 'Are you ready to greet your people, Princess?'
Megan had to push back a sudden surge of stage fright. 'As ready as I'll ever be,' she answered.
Leif could barely keep his mind on his driving as he aimed the car down the grand boulevard of Herzen. He kept shooting suspicious glances at the cheering crowds all around them. The townsfolk were all waving green, red, and gold flags and shouting their heads off to welcome the 'princess.'
But Leif, recalling certain events prior to World War I, especially the assassination of Archduke Francis Ferdinand, heir to the Austrian throne, couldn't help but think how easy it would be for someone to burst from that crowd waving a revolver. If that were to happen, Leif was determined to make a good try at running any such assassin down before the fatal shot was fired.
Beside him, David-or Menelik-glanced into the backseat and shook his head.
'How's she doing?' Leif asked in a whisper.
'She's eating it up,' his friend replied quietly. 'What do you expect? Who wouldn't like riding into town in the
