by Moore, John
“Wait, now. Of course it’s not as bad as all that. I’m speaking about only if our Prince reverts to a frog. Once this affair is all settled, I’m sure we can deal with it.”
“But what can I do?”
“This girl is from your village, isn’t she? You must know her—all people from small villages know each other. Talk to her. Try to influence her to make up her mind. She’s a commoner, isn’t she? Really, I should think there would be no problem persuading her to marry Prince Hal.”
Emily made no reply at first. Indeed, she seemed so distant, so lost in thought, that Bungee was about to call her name, when she finally spoke. “You would think so, wouldn’t you?”
She gathered up her belongings and turned to the door. “Master Bungee, thank you for your time. I hope we will have the opportunity to discuss this again.”
“I am optimistic that we will, dear girl. And I look forward to it very much.”
Emily was about to start down the stairs when she stopped and turned around. “Ah, Master Bungee.”
“Yes?”
“I was wondering—in your opinion—since we would be meeting with so many nobles—is it possible—would there be a chance - that one would propose to me?”
“To a commoner? Of course not. Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” said Emily, and left.
“So what’s the problem with Emily?” said Jeff. “She looked kind of upset when she got back.”
“I don’t know,” said Hal. “She went to set up her apprenticeship with a master sorcerer—a man named Bungee—and she’s been kind of distracted ever since. You know, like when you talk to her she’s listening to you, but she’s not listening to you?”
“Bungee is supposed to be pretty good. She didn’t say anything about him?”
“She said he wants her to make tea.”
“Oh that. Yeah, a lot of girls get upset about that.”
They were back in Jeff’s quarters. Hal was clearing ledgers and account books off one table and stacking them on another. When he had the table cleared he took a bundle, wrapped in oiled cloth, from under his arm. It proved to be a wooden scabbard. He laid it on the table and pulled the oriental sword partway out.
“What’s this?” asked Jeff.
“It’s a sword.”
“No kidding. A sword, eh? So that’s what a sword looks like. Wow, I’d never have guessed. Well, thanks for sharing this with me, Hal, but I’m kind of busy and . . .”
“I’m entering the tournaments with it.”
Jeff tilted his head back and looked at Hal. Hal was a capable swordsman, in a rough street-fighting sort of way. The youngest prince had, in the course of his assignments, defeated his share of bandits and thugs. But real-life swordfighting was nothing like tournament swordfighting, and Jeff said as much. “It’s all technique, and those guys are masters, Hal. You don’t stand a chance.”
“This is a magic sword. And it sings.”
“I’ve got a razor that sings, but it won’t help me win a shaving contest. Hal, if you want to start getting into tournament swordfighting, I’ll back you all the way, but you can’t start with the annual Melinower games. You want to find some small-town tournaments and work your way up.”
“Jeff, I’ve got an angle on this. Listen to me. You’ve fought in tournaments, right? You’re pretty good?”
“Well . . . yes.”
“And you’ve gone up against men with magic swords?”
“Yes, and that’s just what I mean. There’s nothing special about a magic sword, aside from the fact that it’s magic. All you need to make one is a swordsman and a really good wizard. The wizard transfers the swordsman’s skill into the sword.”
“So any sword can be made into a magic sword?”
“Uh, no. I guess there are only a few wizards who can do it. And it has to be a specially forged sword to take the spell. And you need a whole bunch of other ingredients to work the spell, I think.”
“Uh-huh.”
“But if you’ve got all that stuff, any swordsman can have his skill transferred into the sword. So the sword is only as good as the person who gave it his skill. If it came from an expert, Hal, it will help you fight like an expert. But if you’re going up against another expert, you’ll get your butt kicked. And in the Melinower tournaments, they’re all experts.”
“All the better for my plan,” said Hal. “Jeff, when you fight, do you parry with a dagger or with a buckler?”
“A dagger, of course. No one fights with the buckler any more, even in tournaments.”
“Okay, let’s try it. Take the magic sword.” He passed it over to Jeff.
“What, here?”
“Sure. We’ve got room.” Hal was bustling around the room, taking one of Jeff’s swords down from the wall and moving chairs and tables out of the way. “Just a couple of lunges.”
“We’ll have to get padding.”
“No need. We’ll do it theatrical style. I just want to show you how it works.”
Jeff was examining the scabbard. “I wonder what these runes mean.”
“They’re not runes. This swords comes from the Far East. Those little pictures are their style of writing. I looked them up in the library this afternoon.”
“What do they mean?”
“Near as I can figure, they translate into ‘Danger, hold by handle only. Keep pointed end away from you.’ ”
“Sage advice, I’m sure.” Jeff slid the gleaming blade out of the scabbard. “There are more of them on the blade. Stamped into the steel.”
“They say, ‘Made from steel.’ ”
Jeff gave him a look. “Hal, are you sure this is a magic sword?”
“Stand back, and I’ll show you.”
Theatrical swordplay has a tradition that is nearly as old as theatre itself. The intent is to look exciting without risking injury, and for that reason the techniques are often used by real defense instructors to demonstrate moves to students. So Hal and Jeff both knew the positions to assume, standing far enough apart so the blades could clash, but their bodies were out of reach, keeping one foot anchored firmly to the floor so they could not move closer. Hal started with his sword held back in a rear guard, dagger in his left hand. Jeff held a dagger also, the magic sword above his head in a high guard.
“It’s got power in it,” he admitted. “I can feel it.”
“Right,” said Hal, and slashed upward with his blade. Jeff moved instantly to parry with the magic sword and found the blade caught by Hal’s dagger.
“What the hell?” he said.
Hal was smiling. “What did it do?”
“I don’t know, but that wasn’t me. It was the sword.”
“Right. Now, let’s change swords.” The two men switched. Hal feinted with the magic sword and Jeff attacked. Once again Hal parried with his sword, then counterattacked with a draw cut that had the edge of his blade whistling mere inches from Jeff’s chest.
Jeff stepped back and looked at Hal. “Well, that was strange. What is it doing?”
“It’s an oriental sword. Over here, we attack with the blade and parry with the dagger. But in the east, it’s different. They use the blade for both attack and parry. They don’t use daggers or even bucklers. So the person whose skill went into this sword couldn’t deal with dagger parries. Asian pirates fight this way. We only ran into a few when I was in the navy, but I saw enough of the technique to figure it out.”
“Hmmm.” Jeff considered this. “But he could parry with the blade, and he had that fast, slashing counterattack, so . . .”
“So I combine his skill with the blade and my skill with the dagger, and I’ve got an unbeatable combination of attacks and parries.”
“Okay.” Jeff shrugged. “You’ve got a chance. I’ll help you brush up on your dagger work and teach you some tournament skills. If that’s what you want to do . . .”
“Also,” said Hal, “we bet everything we have on the outcome.”
“Actually,” said E
mily, “he seemed like quite a nice little man.”
Caroline gave her a withering look. “Oh, you’d have done it with him, I suppose.”
“No, of course not. Besides, it wouldn’t have worked anyway. Someone should tell him.”
Caroline was surprised. “You think the magic spinning wheel is a fake?”
The two girls were in Emily’s room, which was a bit smaller than Caroline’s. In the back of her mind, Caroline was secretly pleased to see this. She was going to be a princess, after all. It was only right that she should get a bigger room. In the front of her mind, she knew this was petty and didn’t mention it.
“Not a fake,” said Emily. “Just incomplete. He can’t do anything we can’t do. That spinning wheel just means some wizard knew the spell for transforming brass into gold. He bound the spell up in a spinning wheel, so it can be used even when the wizard isn’t around.” Emily was sitting on the bed, with her books scattered around her. She wasn’t trying to study now.
It just gave her a reassuring feeling to have them around, to feel their solid weight, and to know, in a strange palace in a strange city, that they were her own.
“Fine,” said Caroline. “If the wizard knew his stuff, then the wheel ought to work.”
“Nope. You still need the philosopher’s stone and red mercury and the virgin brass.”
“Oh. Right. Well, not the virgin brass, anyway. He said you could do it with flax.”
“Flax. Hmmm. Maybe flax. I don’t know about flax.” Emily stretched out on the bed and grabbed another book. She spent a minute searching it, then put her finger on a page. “Flax, right. Gold stalks with purple flowers. It’s the Law of Similarities.”
Caroline was brushing her hair and looking in the mirror. “I can’t believe how smooth the looking glasses are here. I’ve never seen a reflection like this. I wonder if I really look like this.”
“What? What else would you look like?”
“Well, just because it’s a better-quality looking glass doesn’t mean it gives a more accurate reflection. Maybe my looking glass at home is right, and my face is actually a little wavy and bumpy.”
“If your face was wavy and bumpy,” said Emily, “I’d have mentioned it.”
Caroline turned away from the mirror and sat down on the bed with Emily. “Rumpelstiltskin mentioned the Law of Similarities”
“Yep. To do a transmutation, the stuff you start out with has to have similarity to the stuff you want to make. That’s why you can turn brass into gold, but not pewter.”
“That’s why he specified unretted flax. When you soak the flax in water, a lot of the gold color washes out.”
“There are probably other things you can turn into gold, under the right conditions.”
“Unfortunately, we don’t know what they are. So where does that leave me, dowry-wise? I still have to find a way to marry Prince Jeffrey.”
“Oh?” Emily rolled over onto her stomach and looked at Caroline through cupped hands. “You’ve pretty much decided on Prince Jeffrey?”
“He rode with me in the royal carriage back to the Bull and Badger. He’s very nice. Did I tell you I rode in the royal carriage? Also, the Queen says that when I’m a princess I’ll have ladies-in-waiting.”
“Really? That’s great. Um, what are ladies-in-waiting anyway?”
Caroline frowned. “I’m not sure. I think they’re like bridesmaids, except they do it full-time. Oh, and I have to approve a design for their dresses. I think Queen Helen is right. It’s such a shame if they can only wear them once.”
“Prince Jeffrey,” Emily prompted her.
“Anyway, Jeffrey is just so fine. I just love to look at his eyes. And he’s very smart. He knows a lot about money and taxes and stuff. I think that’s good. And he really cares about the people. I’m sure he doesn’t go out drinking with them the way Hal does, but he cares about the schools, and the tax rates, and things like that. I respect that. When I become a princess, I’m going to care about the people also and not think so much about myself.”
“That’s good,” said Emily, “since I’m still going to be one of the people.”
Caroline frowned. “Of course, I’m talking about myself right now.”
“Well, you don’t have to change overnight. And you’re not a princess yet.”
“Right. Jeff has to become king first. If he’s king, he can marry anyone he wants, dowry or no dowry.”
“That’s a big if.”
“Right. Kenny could still become king.”
“Oh, come on!” Emily sat up suddenly. “You wouldn’t marry Prince Kenneth, would you?”
“Why not?”
“You know perfectly well why not! He’s a jerk, that’s why.”
“How do you know? We only met him for a few minutes.”
“And he was a jerk. And Hal doesn’t like him. And neither does Jeffrey.”
“He’s very good-looking. Of the three brothers, Kenny has the best chance to be king. And he is the handsomest.”
“Oh, you!” Emily turned away from her.
“I’ll have to get Kenny interested in me, but without making Jeff angry. That will be tricky. Don’t look at me that way. I don’t have a whole lot of options here.”
“You could just marry Hal,” Emily said. Or at least, that’s what she thought she said. Somewhere between her brain and her mouth, the words got lost.
Caroline gave her a questioning look. “What? Did you say something? You were mumbling.”
“Oh?” Emily gave a small cough. “Sorry, something caught in my throat. I was just saying that—um—you could still marry . . .” Her voice trailed off. She found it again. “You could still marry Hal.”
“We’ve been through all that,” said Caroline dismissively.
“Is it really so important that a boy be handsome?”
“Of course it is. Haven’t you ever thought about having children?”
“Certainly.”
“Well then, you’re going to have to do it with your husband. Now can you imagine waking up next to Hal in the morning?”
Emily felt her cheeks grow hot. She ducked her head into a book. “I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“And what about the children? You want good-looking children, of course. To have good-looking children, you need a good-looking husband.”
“You’re not breeding cattle!”
“I’m being practical. And I know what I want and how to get it. I want girls who look like me and boys who look like Jeff or Kenny.”
“What if the girls look like Kenny, and the boys look like you?”
“You’re not being at all funny, you know. Why are you trying to push Hal on me again? I thought you liked him yourself?”
“Me?” said Emily. “Not at all. I just don’t want to see you lose everything by waiting too long, trying to improve a situation that is already pretty good.” She put down her book and took up another one, examining a page carefully, not meeting Caroline’s eyes. “I mean, I like Hal myself, of course. But after all, I have an apprenticeship to finish. It’s not like I can get involved with a boy at this point in my life, even if he was interested in me.”
“Aha!” Caroline turned around. “There! That’s exactly what I was talking about.”
“What?”
“Selfishness. I’m going to have to be careful. I’ve been thinking about nothing but myself, and I didn’t even ask you how your apprenticeship meeting went.”
“Um, fine, thanks for asking. We just have some—um—details to work out. Oh, and Hal showed me around the city for a bit.”
“Is Hal back? I need to see him. The Queen wants us to set a wedding date. I need to give Hal some excuse to stall her while I work on Jeff.”
“Not Kenny?”
“Or Kenny.” Caroline collected her hairbrush and left. Emily waited until the door closed before she looked up from her book. And made a face.
“No,” said Jeff. “No, no, and no! Hal, how could you even ask this?
It was Dad’s gambling that got the family into this mess to begin with.”
“This isn’t gambling. It’s a sure thing.”
“Oh right. How many times did we hear Dad say that?”
“Okay, so it’s still something of a gamble. But it’s a gamble we’ve got to take.
“The hell we do! No.” Jeff turned away from Hal and stalked back to his desk. “I’m in charge of the finances, and we’re going to go to the Council of Lords and work out a payment scheme—”
“And one hell of a lot of innocent people will suffer, just so a handful of wealthy deadbeats can get out of paying their debts. I’ve heard.”
Jeff stopped with his back to Hal. Then he crossed to the other side of his desk, turned around, and lowered himself slowly into the chair. “When did you hear about the expulsion? Kenny just told me today. And Dad hasn’t mentioned it at all.”
“Guys talk, you hear things. The Royal Guard is making preparations for something big. The Jews can tell they’re being watched, and they’re nervous. And I know the way Kenny thinks.”
“I tried to talk to Dad. He wouldn’t say anything one way or another.”
Hal sat down in front of Jeff and rested his elbows on the desk. “Jeff, the word has gotten around about this magic sword. Everyone thinks it’s a joke. They haven’t figured it out. That means the odds will be tremendous. I’m thinking we can get thirty to one on our money. Maybe fifty to one. Enough to get the family out of debt. With that kind of money, the Council of Lords will demand that Dad name you his heir.”
“My personal ambition is not enough justification to . . .”
“I’m not talking about your personal ambition. It’s you or Kenny. Either we gamble on the tournaments or Kenny starts driving people out of their homes. Can you think of any other way to stop it?”
Jeff thought for long minutes. Finally he said, “No.”
“Besides,” said Hal, “if you’re the king, you can marry Caroline.”
Jeff scowled at him. “Now don’t you start. Kenny made me the same offer, if I play along with the expulsion. What makes you both so sure I want to marry Caroline?”