When rumors of wild unicorns come to Camp Princess, there's a frenzy of excitement as the royal maidens prepare for the Unicorn Round-Up. But Princess Gundersnap has more important things to worry about. Her war-inclined mother has taken her beloved pony, Menschmik, into battle, and Gundersnap fears for his life. Besides, Gundersnap is much too practical to believe in unicorns.

Or is she? Both the magical tapestry in the tower and her favorite local witch, Berwynna, seem to be trying to tell Gundersnap something. Could the Unicorn Round-Up be more than just a bunch of royal hooey?

Camp Princess 2: Unicorns? Get Real!

By Kathryn Lasky

HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

Copyright © 2007 Kathryn Lasky
All right reserved.
ISBN: 9780060587642

Chapter One

Gundersnap's Proclamation

Princess Gundersnap sat down at the desk in her chamber and took a piece of paper and a quill pen. She chewed the end of the quill. Within a minute the end was in shreds. "Oh dear!" She sighed. "What can I write Mummy?" Maria Theresa, Empress of All the Slobodks, was not your warm and cuddly kind of mum. Gundersnap sighed once more and dipped the pen into the inkwell.

Dear Empress Mummy, Royal Majesty of the Empire of Slobodkonia,

It is not quite summer as it should be. But that often happens here at Camp Princess with its odd seasons. At least it's not winter. Let's say it's autumn in July. Although I am happy to be here, I of course will miss terribly our usual summer sojourns to the Convent of the Sisters of Perpetual Misery. I'll miss our lovely hours together kneeling on the stone floors while praying for your successful invasions of a kingdom. This year it is to be the Empire of Hottompot, is it not? How excited my dear sister Princess Zelda must be that you may capture a prince for her there!

"And how lucky I am to be the ninth daughter!" murmured Gundersnap. There were at least four more daughters ahead of her who would have to be married off, not counting sons. Maybe there would be a shortage of kingdoms to invade when her turn came to be married. Maybe the supply of eligible princes would have dried up and she could actually marry someone of her own choosing. Although she doubted the supply would run dry anytime soon. Across the lake at Camp Burning Shield, there seemed to be plenty of royal princes. Alicia, her turretmate, who was more than slightly boy crazy, was constantly asking when the dance with Burning Shield would be. Gundersnap continued writing.

I want to thank you for allowing Gortle to come to camp for this session. I cannot wait until he arrives. I am sure he will entertain us well.

"Fat Chance!" Gundersnap muttered. If there was one thing that Princess Gundersnap snapped over, it was the ill treatment of court dwarves. The poor little humans suffered various painful conditions and health problems that ranged from backaches to terrible headaches. Yet they were supposed to be constantly tumbling, juggling, and performing tricks for the court. "Positively nauseating!" Gundersnap hissed.

Once campers had been in camp for one session, they were permitted to bring a servant to provide light entertainment—a family court jester, a juggler, a tumbler, or a troubadour. Gundersnap, however, was not bringing Gortle as a source of light entertainment, but to free him from what she considered the abuses of court life in Slobodkonia. Her mother, however, didn't need to know that. She continued:

Well, I must close now as it is time for my evening prayers. My thoughts are with you on this campaign. Please give my love to all fifteen of my dear brothers and sisters. And—she looked up at the painting over her desk of her dear pony—a hug for Menschmik, and do give him one of those golden apples that he so loves.

Yours Very Truly,

Royal Princess Gundersnap Ludmilla Maria Theresa of the Empire of Slobodkonia

As she finished the letter, Princess Gundersnap could hear the voices of her turretmates in the main salon. She crept toward the door to listen.

"Holy monk bones! What in the name of Saint Sammy is this?" she heard Princess Alicia saying.

Then Princess Kristen began reading aloud the note Gundersnap had left on the salon table.

Let it be understood that Gortle Zurf, court dwarf from the Empire of Slobodkonia, arrives in a few days and will not be here for my or anyone else's entertainment. I deplore the use of extremely short human beings as a source of amusement. I am bringing him here expressly to spare him such abuses. He is here as my dear friend and confidant. Please attend to the following regulations: And I mean it. Smurchdot! (That means "Listen up" in Slobo.)

He shall not be asked to tumble.

He shall not be asked to jump through hoops.

He shall not be asked to ride aboard a dog or any creature other than a pony or horse of appropriate size.

He shall not be asked to sing, talk in a funny voice, or tell jokes.

He shall be treated with all the courtesy and respect that is extended to full-size adult human beings.

These regulations are issued by me, the Royal Princess Gundersnap of the Empire of Slobodkonia.

Princess Kristen finished reading the document. There was silence for several seconds, and then Gundersnap could hear Princess Myrella's voice.

"I think she's right," said the tiny princess of the Marsh Kingdoms. "My own family hasn't kept dwarves for years."

"We never kept dwarves," said Kristen. "The Realm of Rolm is simply too cold for them. They'd get terrible arthritis."

"Besides, dwarves are so . . . so twelfth century," said Princess Alicia. "Troubadours, your ordinary court jester—that's one thing—but dwarves—that is so over!"

"Indeed!" said a new voice. It belonged to Lady Merry von Schleppenspiel, the princesses' lady-in-waiting. She was an immensely large lady with cascading multiple chins. She preferred the words "large" or "ample" to "fat." "You know Gundersnap is a sensitive girl. She worries about everyone except herself," said Lady Merry with a sigh.

Gundersnap coughed loudly to give warning and then came through the door. "Dearie," Lady Merry said, "we completely agree with you about Gortle. He should come for afternoon tea when he arrives. We'll have a nice game of whist. He shall be entertained and not be the entertainment!" She nodded, and all eight of her chins trembled in fleshy agreement.

At just that moment, there was the loud tinkling of a bell. "Enter," Lady Merry sang out.

Four chambermaids came in to the salon, each carrying a freshly ironed nightgown. And one also carried a scroll listing the next few days' activities.

Continues...

Excerpted from Camp Princess 2: Unicorns? Get Real!by Kathryn Lasky Copyright © 2007 by Kathryn Lasky. Excerpted by permission.
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