She listened just as carefully as he laid out what he had gathered up, and he wished that the Godmother was still around so that he could ask her questions, too, but about the bird. Or perhaps, if he just asked the bird directly, she would answer them. Not her name, though; he wouldn't ask that. He always called her just "Bird," and she had never offered a name, which only made sense. Names were Power, and she was a tiny, relatively helpless thing and very magical. Giving away her name would give power over her. Perhaps she'd tell it to him one day, but only when she was ready.
Those questions were going to have to wait for now; there were much more pressing concerns to worry about.
The bird bowed her head, and her little eyes grew very bright with the intensity of her concentration.
"So," he said, "do you think you and I should leave?" She had told him to leave other situations before this, when it was clear there was nothing that he could do to make them any better. He always had — although, granted, those had generally been times when the troubled situation did not involve war or potential invasion, merely political or emotional conflict. He was not good with those sorts of things. Among his people, a diplomat was someone who talked to his opponentbefore hitting him with an axe, rather than afterward.
This time she surprised him. "Before I say anything, what do you want to do?" she asked.
He furrowed his brow. "I think...I should stay. I know this makes no sense. I should leave. I'd have no difficulty getting into another country quickly enough. I am good at skulking and hiding, I know more than enough to avoid any trouble on the border, and I wouldn't be going by road anyway. But I want to stay. The little Princess is brave, and deserves help, and while I am only one, maybe I can help simply by being calm while others are throwing their hands in the air and bleating." Then he shrugged. "Besides. I am a Hero. It is the sort of thing that a Hero does. And if it all goes into the frozen river, I can fling her over my shoulder and escape with her. Perhaps once we were safe she'd agree to have a nap in a ring of fire so I can wake her up."
"Well put," the bird said. "I wanted to see if you were still thinking like a Hero, and you are." She fluttered her wings and gave a trill of approval. "There will probably be a great many things you can do to make things better. You can certainly make things better if you stay, and better still if you agree to take part in the trials for the Princess's hand."
He felt immensely cheered at that. "I'm glad to hear that. I'm rather good at trials, and I like the Princess..." He felt his ears growing a little warm, and he stopped himself there before he said anything else.
The bird nodded. "Here are the reasons. You are a foreigner, and if anyone would have a reason to flee and no reason to stay, it would be a foreigner. If you stay and are calm, people will take heart from that. As for the trials, well, as you said, you are a Hero, and this is nothing new to you. And I know The Tradition. That will be a tremendous help to you. I will tell you this, as well — if anyone can save this Kingdom, it will be that Princess and her Godmother. I cannot tell you what the chances are, because all the signs are jumbled, but if anyone can do this, they can." The bird laughed. "In fact I expect that there will be a fine lot of candidates for the trials here by tomorrow. This sort of thing is fairly stiff with The Tradition, and there is so much magic wound up now that getting them here will be the easy part, and the Queen will have bought herself some time."
Somewhat to Siegfried's surprise, and to the utter shock of the rest of the Court, the Princes that the Queen had invited started arriving at the first light of dawn. It had to be magic: there was no other way they could have traversed even Eltaria, much less the vast distances that they had, in so short a period of time. Immediately, people began talking about the intervention of Godmothers in order to bring the Princes here. Several Godmothers, not just their own.
The bird had said that they would be here, but the first arrival at dawn came as a surprise to Siegfried, because he had never known anyone in these lands of wealth or birth to be up that early unless they were on a battlefield. He was, of course, and the servants were. Otherwise during his few days here he had had the entire Palace to himself until nearly midmorning.
And yet, before the sun was even on the horizon, a chariot — a chariot! — pulled by a pair of briskly trotting, snow-white mules, came rolling up to the front courtyard. Attracted by the unexpected sound of hooves and wheels, Siegfried hurried there in time to see the vehicle turn into the courtyard and pull to a halt in front of the big bronze front door.
It was driven by a queenly woman in a columnar, ivy-green gown, entirely unlike anything the women wore here. He didn't get more than a glimpse of her, though, because the chariot wasn't even at a full stop when a young man in half armor with a bow on his back and a sword at his side leapt out of it. The woman blew a motherly kiss at him; he smiled, put his hand on his heart and bowed to her. With a wave of her hand, the woman slapped the reins on the backs of the mules, who cantered off in a cloud of dust. And it appeared that the young man was expected, for the great door opened; the chief servant of this place — the bird called him a "majordomo" — appeared, greeted him gravely and ushered him inside. He was the first of a procession of Princes. They arrived alone, afoot and threadbare, with no clear idea of how they had gotten here, but knowing that there was a Princess to be won. They arrived mounted, in shining armor without a speck of dust on it. They arrived with entire entourages and their own pavilions. There were fops that had never cut their own fingernails, and seasoned fighters bearing weapons with worn hilts and scabbards. There were ugly Princes, and Princes so handsome that they made Leopold look ordinary. There was even a frog thats aid he was a Prince, but he got turned back — or so the bird told Siegfried — since he really didn't qualify yet. When Siegfried found out about the poor frog, he trudged a mile down the road looking for the creature, but it had disappeared. He just hoped it had found somewhere else to go and had not been eaten by something.
In three days, there were more than fifty Princes in the Palace, Siegfried and Leopold were sharing one room of his three-room suite, and there were two princes in each of the other two rooms. The rest of the guest quarters of the Palace were similarly crowded. There was a field set aside that was full of pitched pavilions, both those that had been brought by the candidates and those that had been put up at the Queen's orders. There were even, so Siegfried had heard, plenty more without any claim to royal blood who had shown up for the trials. The bird said that they would be allowed to join, too — after all, The Tradition was full of tales of commoners who rose to thrones by winning Princesses.
And, it appeared that Queen Glacier's plan had worked, for there was one Prince from each of the five neighbors of Eltaria. Three were sons outright of the ruler in question, two were nephews. Messages had come from the watchers on all of the borders. The armies had withdrawn, and the Eltarian army brought King Thurman's body home.
There was a very impressive funeral, which Siegfried was able to see quite well, since he was a head taller than almost anyone else. There was a great deal of singing of massed people — the bird said it was called a "choir," and this was quite a new thing for Siegfried. His people had skalds, who recited rather than sang, and very raucous drinking songs. On his travels, he had listened with great pleasure to bards, minstrels, jongleurs and ladies who were said to be accomplished singers and musicians, but he had never heard massed, disciplined voices before. It was very moving. He actually found himself with stinging eyes several times, even though he did not know the dead King. He rather wished there had been more of that and less of talking. The god here, if he understood the speeches aright, was considered to be very far away, and everyone who was good got to go to a lovely place that was completely unlike Vallahalia — more of a great sky-garden than a feast-hall and a battlefield. Then again, while these folk did enjoy their feasting, they didn't seem to enjoy fighting nearly as much as Siegfried's people did, so Vallahalia probably wouldn't be much to their liking.
Finally the speeches and the singing were over, the King was put into a stone box in the god-hall instead of being set on fire, and the funeral was over. The bird, which had been on his shoulder the whole time, being very quiet, fluffed her feathers and stopped looking like a bird-shaped ornament. Some people milled about, talking about the dead King, while the throng of Princes remained to talk, retired discreetly to their quarters, or their martial exercises, according to their natures, and Siegfried pondered which group it would be better for him to join, though he was inclined to the most active choice.
That was when Leopold drew him aside. "Care to get away from this lot with me?" the man asked, rather too casually. "I know a good tavern."
Siegfried considered this. "Does it have plain food? Meat that is meat, and not hiding under a sauce?" He was getting just a little weary of the stuff these people ate. "And a good strong beer?"
Leopold smiled. "And no little dogs yapping around at your heels."
Siegfried snorted. But it was to cover what the bird was saying, because this had all the trappings of some sort of trick or trap. It might not be, of course. Of all the people here, Leopold knew him the best, and he'd not seen nor sensed any falseness about the fellow. But it paid to be careful.
"It's fine," the bird sang. "I don't feel any treachery from him. I think he wants to talk."
"All right," Siegfried agreed. "But I pay. And when my money is gone, we leave. I don't want to be chased by your creditors."
It was Leopold's turn to snort. "I'm not the sort to think I don't have to take care of my reckoning because of my blood. I always pay my due. I just do it with other peoples' money." He sighed melodramatically. "Lucky at dice, unlucky at love."
"So you say." Siegfried smiled. "Lead on, then. I already made my bow and condolences to the Princess and the Stormcrow before all of this. I don't think we'll be missed."
"Stormcrow?" Leopold asked.
"Black Glacier. Frozen Obsidian.You know." Siegfried shrugged. "The Bird of Ill Omen. She Who Is All In Black. The — "
"Oh, right." Leopold eyed him curiously. "Are your people generally so poetic?"
"Cautious," said Siegfried. "If you speak something's name too often, it might come looking for you. I don't want that to come looking for me.
"Ha! Point taken"
Leopold led the way toward the gardens that the courtiers strolled in, and which now were packed full of Princes and courtiers, supposedly being sad about the late King but actually abuzz with speculation. There would be trials for the Princess's hand, of course, that went without saying; it was the reason they were all here. But what trials? This sort of thing was unprecedented. There had not been a gathering of Princes like this for — well, in living memory of anyone who was here, and the Princes were a far-flung lot indeed.
The path Leopold took, however, skirted the edge of the gardens, then went behind all the lovely plantings and flower beds, shrubberies and fountains. Clearly it was one used by the gardeners. It led out of the pleasure gardens and into the practical ones, the vegetable and herb gardens. And from there, into the orchards; the particular plot of trees they were in was laden with little green apples.
The orchards ended at an extremely high wall; Leopold pulled out a key and unlocked the door. He motioned Siegfried through.
On the other side of the wall was a city.
Siegfried was astonished; he'd had no idea there was such a thing so near the Palace; all he had ever seen was the side that fronted on the forest. It was a big city, too, houses crowded so closely together that there wasn't enough room to put your hand between them. The door dropped them straight into the middle of it, the wall looming on one side of the street with temporary stalls all along it, a row of houses and shops on the other. Leopold emerged from the doorway and locked it behind them, put the key in his belt-pouch, and stood for a moment, grinning at the street and the traffic on it, breathing the air deeply.
"Now this is my sort of place!" the young man exclaimed, and slapped Siegfried on the back. "Come on, admit it, that Court is enough to put you to sleep, with gossipy hens shrilling in one ear and self-important asses in the other!"
"Well," Siegfried admitted with a slow smile. "Yes it does. But this does not suit me, either. I am not fond of cities."
Leopold looked surprised, then motioned to Siegfried to come with him. "Why not?"
Siegfried walked along beside him, keeping a wary eye out for trouble. Thieves often made the mistake of seeing a big man who moved deliberately as being an easy target. They always discovered their mistake. Depending on how old the thief was, that discovery could come at the cost of a broken finger, broken wrist or broken arm. "I'm not comfortable being in a place this crowded that is not an army camp," he said. "I'd rather be in the wilderness, or a small village. It's a matter of...knowing I always have to watch my back for trouble." He shrugged, saw a very young pickpocket approaching, and swung his foot out sideways to knock the boy's feet out from beneath him just as the lad reached for his belt-pouch, sending the child facedown in the road. Leopold raised an eyebrow as Siegfried walked on, leaving the young thief sprawled in the dust behind them.
"You're better than I thought," the Prince said. "Not as dumb as you look."
Siegfried shrugged again. "There are thieves in my land, too," he pointed out. "They are just usually a lot more obvious about it. Thieves where I come from tend to come straight at you, and bash you with something heavy. There's nothing subtle about trying to hit you with a club. The subtle dangers are from the wildlife. But once you learn what to be alert for — "
The child was back. Persistent. Possibly thought the tripping had been an accident. This time Siegfried waited until the fingers were on the pouch. Then, fast as a snake, he had the child's wrist in his hand and hauled the thief up by one arm until his face was level with the child's,
The boy dropped the tiny knife he was going to use to cut the pouch off Siegfried's belt. Leopold caught it. The boy's face was white.
"When I was your age," Siegfried said, carefully, so that the boy would be able to understand every word even though the Hero knew he had a thick accent, "I had already killed two poisonous serpents twice as long as I was, a wolf four times my size, a bear as large as I am now and a man. I had a necklace made of their teeth. Yes, even the man. In my land, someone caught trying to steal is killed. Now, I have learned that this is a land where it's not a good thing to kill every man who annoys you, so I am going to let you go. First, because you are not a man yet and there is no glory in killing you, and second, because killing you would disturb my friend. But I suggest that you find another line of work, because the next person who catches you with your hand on his money might not have a friend along, might not be as concerned about glory, or might have a hangover."
By now, they had collected a small audience that watched and listened in silence.
He dropped the boy, who landed on his rump, turned without looking to see what the child did and walked off in the direction Leopold had been going. The crowd, seeing that there was no more entertainment coming, dispersed.
Leopold ran a couple steps to catch up with him. "Clever."
"Not very. I've only discouraged the young and the less skilled. Now the most skilled will think I am a challenge." Siegfried sighed. "And I will have to break some bones. That probably will discourage the rest. It is difficult to ply the trade of thief with a broken hand, and weighing the odds of small profit from me against high probability of not being able to cut purses for a month, they will leave me a — " He reached behind himself and caught the wrist of the hand on his belt-pouch. It felt adult, so without even looking around, he twisted and jerked upward. He felt the bones breaking as he did so, and dropped the man before the fellow even started to scream with the pain. " — lone," he finished. "Well, that took less time than I thought. This must be a very sophisticated city."
Behind him, a man sat in the dust of the street, holding his wrist and hand against his chest,
howling with agony. Siegfried had gone for the maximum amount of damage this time. It was possible the man would never be able to lift a purse again. "That's good. It means word will spread quickly. You were saying, Prince Leopold?"
Chapter 10
Leopold grinned. "I was asking why you didn't like cities. Obviously it isn't because you can't take care of yourself here. So, is it a matter of needing to be absolutely alert all the time?"
They pressed up against a wall to let a wagon pass, then resumed walking.
Siegfried nodded, very pleased with Leopold's understanding. "Exactly so. I know the wilderness. I know it so well that I do not have to think about when I may be less on guard and when I must be completely on guard. In a small village, everyone knows everyone else, and I can tell by how they react to each other who cannot be trusted and who is harmless. And an army camp is disciplined and busy. A busy man does not have leisure to make trouble. Discipline keeps each man in his place, and when he is out of that place and up to no good, he stands out. Besides, in an army camp, a lawbreaker knows that troublemakers are going to be harshly dealt with. Army laws are harsh ones, you see. Thieves generally are hung on the spot."
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