Sleeping Beauty fhk-5 Read online

  "I suppose I have the same instincts — or maybe training — in the city that you have in the wilderness," Leopold said thoughtfully. "Interesting. Well, you will be safe enough from thieves in the tavern we are going to, if that makes any difference to you. Bar fights, maybe not. If a fight breaks out, the owner will eject the fighters if he can and guard the stock if he cannot, and then it is every man for himself. Card cheats, probably not — the owner doesn't care if someone cheats others in his establishment. But the owner has a charm on the place that keeps cutpurses and other thieves out."

  Siegfried raised an eyebrow. "I have never heard of that, but it is a wise thing, if possible."

  "Oh it costs him a pretty penny to get it renewed every month, but he told me that what it brings to his door in extra custom more than makes up for the cost." Leopold grinned up at him. "Think about it. If you were alone in this city, how much more for a room would it be worth to you, if you knew that anyone who was going to rob you couldn't get into the building?"

  Siegfried mulled that over in his mind. "Quite a bit, actually. It would let me sleep sound of a night. A good sound sleep is worth more to a fighter than anything other than a good full meal."

  They continued on in relative silence — relative, because a city is never quiet — with a wary eye on their backs on Siegfried's part, in case the fellow with the broken wrist had stupid friends. This was a fairly clean city; someone came along with a cart, scooping up droppings, quite frequently. And unlike places he'd seen where people just tossed nasty stuff into the gutters and waited for the rain to wash it away, it seemed that no one tossed anything into the street here.

  There were just so many people...the only other time he was crowded like this, it was on a battlefield.

  "And here we are." Leopold gestured at a building, which had the usual signs of a tavern and inn on it. A hanging sign above the door with the name of the place — which Siegfried could not read, since the gift of tongues granted by the Dragon's Blood didn't extend to the written language and a picture, a pair of crossed arms with a crown, which probably meant "The King's Arms." Down one side of the door frame were carved images of a wheat sheaf, a bunch of grapes and a beehive. So they served beer and ale, wine and mead. Down the other, a loaf of bread, a bed and a horseshoe. They served food, served as an inn where travelers could stay, as well as a tavern, and they had a stables. Above the door, a hammer and a leaf. They would admit and serve Dwarves and Elves.

  Those were signs he hadn't seen too frequently outside of his homeland.

  "Dwarves and Elves?" he said aloud.

  "Is there a problem?" Leopold asked, brows knitting as he paused on the threshold.

  "Not at all, I learned forging from a Dwarf. But I have been through some Kingdoms that don't believe they exist." He entered as Leopold held the door open for him. "And I was in one that considered them to be anathema."

  "I have, too. But this is a land whose wealth is based on mining, and where there is mining, you'll find Dwarves." Leopold nodded at a table full of them off to one side, all of whom looked up as they came in. Siegfried saw their eyes light up with purpose. "Um," Leopold added, seeing the same thing. "I think they know what we are. They'll probably want to talk to us — "

  Before he finished the sentence, one of the Dwarves had already pushed his stool away from the table and was heading in their direction.

  " — once they've made up their minds about it. Greetings and sound stone to you, friend," Leopold finished, addressing the Dwarf. "What can we do for you?"

  The Dwarf looked up at both of them. He was very well dressed, though not in the height of Dwarven elegance, Siegfried noted. His clothing was of leather, and not unlike Siegfried's own, with light mail over the top of it. Light by Dwarven standards, which meant it was as fine as knitted silk, but would hold off the blow of a broadsword in someone like Siegfried's hands. Siegfried tried not to salivate at the sight of it.

  His brown beard was neat, braided into a club, without being ornamented at all; his hair was pulled back and braided into a similar club. He had the usual hammer, which served a Dwarf as weapon and tool — and a club. That was fairly typical for a Dwarf among humans; no one with any sense picked a fight with them, so they felt quite safe going about without edged weapons on their persons.

  "You're one of the Princes come to Court, aye?" Dwarves were direct. Very direct. Blunt would be an understatement. Siegfried liked this about them very much; it made discussions much easier.

  Leopold nodded. "And you would like to hear what's going on straight from the Prince's mouth?"

  Siegfried smiled at Leopold's manner, for it was exactly what he would have said. Leopold was good; he went straight to Dwarven manners. "Well, talking is thirsty work. I would be partial to a good yard of ale, and my friend Siegfried here — "

  "Mead for me. Aye, I am willing to sit and talk. And I should maybe like some plain food, if the talk goes long enough." He shrugged.

  The Dwarf nodded. They tended to have faces a cardsharp would kill for, with the ability to keep just about everything they felt behind their beards. But this one looked a little more relaxed at discovering that the two humans weren't going to play what Dwarves called "word-mincing" with him. "Then join us, and well met."

  Siegfried was actually rather good at reading Dwarves, which came from being apprenticed to one. There were anxious faces around the table, which should have come as no surprise. After all, a war would be terrible for them. Not because they couldn't get out of the Kingdom — they could probably tunnel their way out if they had to, and it was unlikely that anyone would be able to stop them. But war would effectively close their mines. Even if the conquerors permitted them to continue operating, there would be enormous new taxes, and even larger export tariffs, and who within the country would be prepared to buy what they brought out? There were no Dwarven armies here; there was nothing to stop a conqueror from doing whatever he pleased.

  So war would be as much a disaster for them as it would for the rest of the Kingdom. What did surprise him was that they were coming to people like Leopold and himself for their information. He would have thought that they would go straight to the source — the Queen — rather than get information secondhand. Then again, maybe they didn't trust the Queen. Given what he'd been hearing, they were probably right not to trust her.

  Uncharacteristically, the Dwarves waited until the order had arrived before hunching over in a conspiratorial manner and fixing both of them with earnest gazes.

  "All right, what's this Queen got in her head?" the one who had accosted them asked. "The King, rest him, dies, and there's looking like an invasion any moment"

  "Bad for business, that, very bad for business," one of the Dwarves muttered.

  "Then of a sudden, there's armies pulled back, and the Palace is full of Princes and adventurers — "

  "Actually the adventurers are being put up in army tents on the drilling field," Leopold interrupted. "Or the barracks, if they're lucky. No princely pedigree — " he waggled his fingers in a shooing motion " — no bed in the Palace, nor pavilion in the garden. Rank does have its privileges."

  "Yes, yes, yes," the Dwarf replied impatiently. "The point is,what's going on?"

  "The Queen must have studied my people," Siegfried replied, when Leopold said nothing. "She invited the lot of them to come, Princes got direct invitations, adventurers apparently smelled what was up and were allowed to join in. She told them they could all make a trial for the hand of the Princess, implied they might make a trial for hers, and now she's got a city full of hostages."

  The Dwarf cast him a sharp look. "Northlander, are you? Aye, you'd know that ploy when you saw it then. Well. That's a sharper notion than I'd have given her credit for. But how long will it work?"

  Leopold shrugged. "Who's to say? Don't forget there's that Godmother to reckon with. The longer the Queen can hold things off, the more time the Godmother has to do something about all of this."

  "Oh, aye,
the Godmother." The Dwarf pulled on his beard. "Not sure what she can do about an army — "

  Siegfried shrugged. "I'm a Hero. I can challenge the champion to single combat, assuming they'll appoint a champion and he'll take it."

  "Aye, aye, that's one way..." The Dwarf who had spoken chewed on his lip. "But what if they don't?"

  Leopold leaned back a little and looked utterly relaxed. "Well, that would be a problem, then. But look at it this way — this Queen is clever. She sends out invitations for hostages. That's all well and good, but the first ones show up at dawn the next day! You don't get that without magic help. So the Godmother here is meddling in this, as well. Maybe more than just her. Hmm?"

  "I saw the first one arrive with my own eyes," Siegfried said thoughtfully. "Looked like a Sorceress bringing him, not a Godmother. Actually, if I were making a guess about it, and you were to push me to tell that guess... looked as if it was his mother leaving him to try his luck."

  Theyall gave him an odd stare, and he shrugged. "Prince can't have a Sorceress for a mother? Or maybe a sister? The thing is, where there's one like him, there's probably more — if not mothers or sisters, then, well patrons. Friends. Ties, that's the point, ties to magicians, Yes? Bad idea to meddle in the affairs of magicians. Unless you like eating flies."

  "Or think that your crown would look better with all your hair burned off." Leopold chuckled. "There you are, not only do we have hostages with fathers with armies, we have hostages with friends and family that can turn you into a newt. That will be enough to make the neighbors pause, I should think."

  The Dwarves made thoughtful sounds and contemplated their beer. Siegfried kept eyeing their armor, and thought wistfully that if he only had the tremendous sum it would take to buy a coat of that chain mail, now would be the time to strike a bargain with them.

  But he didn't. And there was no use even thinking about it. Gods got armor like that, not mere Heroes like him. Not unless they got a god to give it to them. Granted, his parents were half god but...his grandmother was more likely to send a thunderbolt to kill him than give him armor, and his grandfather was the one trying to set him up to marry his aunt and have that Colorful Doom descend on him. Dwarven chain-mail was no compensation for getting hacked to bits.

  Or a King might give him such a thing. Kings could afford it, too.

  Maybe if he ended up having to challenge a champion from one of the enemy armies, he could ask for a coat of that mail from the Queen. The good thing about chain mail, of course, was that it didn't have to be made and fitted to you; it was easy enough to have a general size, and just as easy to add some or take some away, so he could just ask for a Dwarven coat and it would turn up the next day. He had made chain mail in the past himself — the Dwarf that had taught him had said it was important for him to learn "the patience of the metal" — but nothing like as fine as this. Sadly, he had outgrown it long ago, and at the point where it had become too small, he hadn't had access to a forge to make the rings to extend it. Nor, truly, the time to do so. With regret, he had bartered it for the breastplate, greaves and arm-guards he had now.

  He forced his mind from the beautiful mail with an effort.

  Leopold was deep in discussion with the Dwarves, about trade in gems and metals and how all of this might hurt them. Siegfried was surprised at first, but then he noticed something. Leopold was giving the impression of being knowledgeable, but what he was really doing was letting them talk, which they did with great enthusiasm and at great length. Leopold merely waited until they ran out of things to say, then asked a leading question based right out of the last things they had said. That set them off again, and like spirited horses with the bit between their teeth, they galloped on for a few more miles.

  Siegfried accomplished much the same thing with his nods and "indeeds" among those people at the Palace. But not nearly as cleverly. Leopold really was getting a lot of information.

  Finally the Dwarves were completely relaxed. They called over the serving boy — Leopold looked vaguely disappointed that it was a boy and not a wench — paid the reckoning and got up.

  "You're good lads," the chief of them said, as two of his fellows slapped Siegfried and Leopold on the back. "Best of luck in the trials. We'd bet on ye, but Dwarven folk don't bet." Siegfried had been ready for the slap and braced himself for it, but Leopold, like most folk who had never had much close contact with Dwarves, was not prepared for their strength, and nearly went over into his food. The Dwarves knew very well that they could catch the unprepared in this way, and were always hoping for it. This was the essence of Dwarven humor.

  So it was Siegfried who gravely thanked them, while Leopold got his breath back. They trundled out, and it wasn't until some moments later that Leopold stopped gasping. Dwarves really were very powerful.

  The bird was laughing. Leopold leveled a withering glance at her. That only made her laugh more. "Is your pet laughing at me?" he demanded.

  "No, no," Siegfried lied with a straight lace. "She's just singing."

  But the bird stopped laughing. "Pet?" the bird said in outrage. She fluttered her wings and hopped with anger. "Oh...just wait. Next time he wants to impress one of those maidens, I'll fly over and drop a p — "

  "Don't even think about it, bird," Leopold said, looking straight at her. "I know you must be thinking about dropping something nasty on me. I can tell by your expression. I have many, many feline friends."

  The bird actually spluttered.

  "Now, both of you, please," Siegfried said, alarmed now. "Leopold, yes, the bird is very clever. Smarter than I am, truth to be told. She has been giving me a great deal of help for some time now, purely because she is kind, so any threat to her, I take quite seriously." He inclined his head to the bird, who was somewhat mollified by that. "My friend, Leopold has done us no harm, and you must admit that you were laughing at his misfortune, which is not fair."

  Leopold nodded.

  "Now. Let us have peace among ourselves. Leopold, I do not believe you wished us to come here because you are fond of the ale. Or at least, you did not ask me to come here because you are fond of the ale. Yes?"

  Leopold gave the bird another sour look. "True enough," he agreed, grudgingly. "I wanted to talk to you away from the hundred-odd pairs of ears back there. Now, besides being a prince of whatever far-off northern place you come from, you are some sort of wandering do-gooder, right?"

  Siegfried thought about that definition. "I suppose that is as close as anything else," he agreed. He explained to Leopold about Heroes, and the sorts of things they were expected to do. Then he explained about the Shieldmaiden of Doom without going too closely into The Tradition. For one thing, he wasn't sure Leopold would believe him, and for another, he wasn't sure the Godmothers wanted that sort of thing bandied about. It worried him sometimes that he knew, but since no one had struck him with lightning, he supposed it must be all right.

  However, telling someone else might bring on the lightning bolts, and that was no better than any other form of Doom. So instead of telling Leopold about The Tradition, he framed the story in terms of a prophecy. He borrowed heavily from the sagas of his land, saying that the bird had directed him to a witch who had done a foretelling for him after he had slain the dragon, tasted its blood and could understand her.

  "Not bad," the bird said when he was done. "I think I even believe it."

  "So, you see, I am trying to find a maiden who is something like this demigoddess, near enough to satisfy the prophecy, but without things ending up like a saga," he finished.

  Leopold grinned. "You mean, ending up with murder, suicide and general all-around disaster?"

  "That is a good summation, yes," said Siegfried. "Although since my murder would start the last lot, I would not be about to see it. And since I would get stabbed in the back, I wouldn't even have the satisfaction of my spirit going to Vallahalia and watching the rest. "

  "We can't have that," Leopold said firmly. "Now, you were right about why I
asked you to come here with me. You and I more or less started all of this together, and whether or not you believe in fate, we seem to complement one another. So what I have in mind is a pact between the two of us, yes? However these trials go, whatever we do, while there is still a lot of competition, we help each other. When it gets down to ten or so left, then we can talk about it more, but for now, you and me against the rest of that lot."

  Siegfried thought about it. He couldn't see a flaw in it as long as Leopold upheld his side.

  "It's a good plan," the bird said grudgingly. "And he means it. Well, he means it right now. Whether he'll hold to it...I can't say. He's a bit of a rogue, I just don't know how much of one."

  "What's more, if in the end, when it is down to you versus me, if you don't win the Princess, I'll help you find a wench asleep in a fire circle even if I have to get a goose-girl drunk and set fire to the turf myself." Leopold grinned but there was no doubt he was in earnest.