The first morning rays peeked over the tiles of the Alhambra to find Clarence and Alice slumbering, cuddled in each other’s arms among the flowering bushes of the central courtyard. They had no other place to sleep. Clarence lost his cover under Maria’s voluminous skirts, and Alice had been separated from the other gypsy performers.

(Author’s Note: One can only assume Rodney, in his guise as a Gypsy musician, found shelter in Maria’s bedroom. Trying one’s best to present a fairly family friendly folktale, the author will refrain from suppositions about what happened in her bedroom that night. Oh hell, they did it. I know they did it. You know they did it. Children shouldn’t be reading this in the first place. Let’s keep it real.)

Servants began bustling about the palace in preparation of another day of leisure for the royal residents. Clarence and Alice slowly opened their eyes and exchanged tender sleepy-head kisses. Eventually Clarence pulled away and sat up.

“This is wonderful, but I must get back undercover. Remember? For England,” he murmured as he stood.

“By the way,” she asked with a crinkled nose as she also got to her feet, “what were you doing under—“

Clarence looked over Alice’s shoulder to see King Phillip shuffling his way through the maze-like gardens. “Oh no!”

Quickly he feel to his knees and tried, somewhat unsuccessfully, to hide under Alice’s dress.

“Clarence! What are you doing?”

He stuck his head out for an instant. “Shh. Trust me, my darling. I know what I’m doing.”

“I certainly hope so.” She hobbled about as Clarence positioned his head between her legs.

“What a pleasant surprise!” Phillip exclaimed as he approached her. “A Gypsy maiden is waiting for me among my roses.”

“What?” Very understandably, Alice found herself befuddled by her current situation. “Oh. Yes.” She smiled nervously while deciding what to do next. She decided to respond with a Slavic accent, which she did without linguistic flair. “Would you like to have your fortune told, your Majesty?”

“No need, my dear.” Lechery crawled across his wrinkled face. “I already know my fortune, and yours.”

He stepped so close, Alice could smell his breakfast on his breath, which was unappetizing in the extreme.

“Your Majesty! What are you going to do?”

“You’re the fortune teller.” Phillip licked his thin lips. “You tell me.”

This latest development was too much for Alice’s sensitivities to bear. She fainted, falling backwards, conveniently landing on Clarence’s backside.

“No, that wasn’t what I had in mind.” The King frowned; twice, once because she swooned and twice when she did not land on the ground but rather stopped mid-air. He walked around her to examine the phenomena more closely. “Is she levitating? I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

Under Alice’s skirt, Clarence was in a dither. He was not sure what was going on but he had to make some executive decisions post haste.

“I’ve got to get out of here.” He carefully began to crawl away, careful not to lose balance and cause Alice to fall and break the magical illusion of defying gravity.

“She’s floating away!” Phillip gasped incredulously. Divine joy exploded throughout his being. “Quick!” he shouted. “Everyone! A levitating maiden!”

Courtiers appeared from every corner of the palace to gather in the courtyard. They stopped abruptly as they saw the miracle, and their mouths went agape.

“A miracle!” Phillip had not been this happy in years. “It’s a miracle!”

Clarence carefully maneuvered through the apprehensive crowd. “It’ll be a miracle if I get out of this alive!”

The crowd parted for Clarence and Alice as the Red Sea parted for Moses. Phillip went to his knees, clasping his hands in prayer.

“It’s a sign! It’s a sign of victory over the English!”

“Call a priest!” one of the courtiers called out.

“A priest? Hell!” the King retorted. “Call the Pope!”

As delicate as Alice was, her weight was beginning to crack Clarence’s spine.

“Give me a ship,” he muttered, “rolling seas, a sword in my hand, but this—“

Soon Clarence sensed he had made his way through the courtyard crowd and into one of the Alhambra’s many hallways. Increasing his pace, he looked for the next right turn down another hall, or the first left turn for that matter. All he wanted was to get the hell out of there. The crowd stood reverentially watching the maiden float away from them.

“No! No!” Phillip slowly creaked back to his feet. “Don’t let that levitating maiden disappear!” He waived his spindly arms. “Guards! Guards!”

Four husky young men in armor and flashing steel swords elbowed their way through the courtiers to follow Phillip as he doddered through the crowd in the direction of the Clarence and Alice. When they arrived on the other side of the mass of humanity, they found only an empty hallway.

“She gone!” the King cried out.

“Who’s gone, Sire?” one of the guards asked.

“The levitating maiden,” Phillip replied.

“A levitating what?”

“Maiden. She was floating around here someplace, until all these people crowded in.”

Skepticism entered the guard’s voice. “A levitating maiden?”

Phillip turned to look at the guard. “You don’t believe me?”

“Of course, Sire!” Sweat popped out on his brow.

The King hit the guard; not very hard, of course, because his hand was pounding against the armour. “You idiot! There was a levitating maiden. There was!”

Meanwhile, down a distant hall away from the courtyard crowd, Clarence carefully slid from under Alice’s limp body, picked her up and looked for a safe cranny into which to deposit her.

“I never imagined being a spy would be like this!”

Finally he discovered a secluded corner and laid her gently down and kissed her forehead.

“Until later, my love.”

When he left the alcove he spotted Maria coming down the hall. He ran to her and slid under her dress. Maria was left speechless and confused.

One must remember that the Alhambra was considered a remarkable structure for its time and had more stairs, hallways, alcoves and courtyards than it truly needed. Along another one of its superfluous halls Rodney encountered Lord Boniface.

“Your Lordship! What are you doing here?”

“Ssh! I’m on a secret mission for Queen Elizabeth!”

(Author’s note: Boniface produced this lie with such spontaneous sincerity to lead the reader to believe that he must have had years of experience in theatre but this was not true. Actors really have to work hard to evince a worthy pace of delivery. Boniface was, indeed, an accomplished politician.)

Rodney fell into one of his frequent confusions. “Funny. I didn’t know that.”

“If you did, then it wouldn’t be a secret mission, would it now?” In addition to his alacrity, Boniface was artful in the skills of debate.

“I guess that makes sense.”

Boniface put a finger to his lips and raised an eyebrow. “I presume you’re here on a secret mission also.”

“That’s right,” Rodney replied. “I’m trying to find out who the spy is.”

“Any luck?”

“Not a clue.”

“Good—I mean, perhaps we can work together.”

A shadow of suspicion crossed Rodney’s handsome face. “Sorry, I always work alone.”

“Perhaps it’s just as well.” Boniface smiled brightly. “Good luck.”

Quite by chance, Maria turned a corner onto the self-same hall where Rodney and Boniface confabbed. With careful steps, for she still had Clarence between her legs, Maria approached them. Rodney saw her and smiled.

“Yes, it’s important that—that….” Lust clouded his concentration. “What were we talking about?”

“Finding the spy,” Boniface replied with thinly disguised disgust.

“Oh, that’s right. It’s important that one of us succeed. After all, it’s for England.”

“Yes, for England.” His Lordship hardly contained his urge to roll his eyes.

“This other Eden, demi-paradise, this royal throne of kings, this sculptured isle—“

“Sceptered! Sceptered!” Clarence shrieked from beneath Maria’s skirts.

“Is there an echo in here?” Boniface asked.

“Oh yes,” Maria quickly replied in her most proper Spanish accent. “The Alhambra is known for its echoes.”

Boniface shrugged. “It makes no difference.” He glanced at Rodney. “Perhaps it would be best if you beat a hasty retreat.”

“Beat who?” Poor Rodney was lost again.

“A hasty retreat,” Boniface repeated.

“Oh. You mean I should get out of here?”

“Correct.” Boniface tapped his foot.

“As you say.” Rodney bowed deeply. Despite his lack of cogency, he excelled in courtly behavior. He turned and repeated the bow to Maria. “Miss.” Rodney looked left and right before darted in a hitherto unnoticed direction.

Boniface gently took Maria by the elbow. “Miss de Horenhausen, perhaps we could have a private conversation.”

Before she could reply, he guided her to the first door down the hall, causing her to trip a little over the little man under her dress.

“Not so fast,” Clarence whispered.

“Not so fast,” Maria repeated and then giggled. “There goes that echo again.”

Boniface opened the door, stepped aside so that Maria (and Clarence under her dress) could enter. He followed them into the room and carefully shut the door behind him.

“What lovely furnishings, don’t you think?” he asked as charmingly as he possibly could fabricate. “I just love Spanish décor, don’t you—okay, enough small talk—who’s the spy?”

“What?” Maria fluttered her dark Spanish eyelashes.

“King Phillip asked me to make you tell who the spy is.”

“Traitor!” She quit fluttering and raised her perky English chin.

“That’s right.” He approached her menacingly. “I want the name of the traitor to the Spanish crown.”

“No!” she replied in strident English tones. “You are the traitor to Elizabeth!”

“Well, it depends on your point of view,” he said, exercising his extraordinary debate skills.

“Any way I view it, you’re despicable!”

Boniface moved menacingly close to our multi-national heroine. “Not as despicable as I could be if you don’t tell me the name of the spy in King Phillip’s court.”

Clarence could not contain his outrage any longer. He charged out of the front of Maria’s dress and stood, taking a Marquis de Queensbury stance.

“Leave this child alone, or I’ll box your ears silly!”

“Clarence Flippertigibbit!” his Lordship gasped, “I thought you were dead!”

“Ha ha! Fooled you!” He took two aggressive steps toward Boniface. “Back up or risk the consequences of two black eyes!”

The older man smirked. “You’re too short. You could not reach my head.”

Clarence set his jaw in determination. “Then I shall have to aim lower.”

Boniface backed up and covered his crotch. “Never mind.”

Clarence grabbed Maria’s hand and ran for the door. “Let’s get out of here!”