The Princess eyed him for a moment, giving him the first really measuring look that he had gotten from her, then nodded. “All right. You may. I have a bit of time that I can spare, and it is clear it will be time well invested. Let me go and change, and I will send someone for you here.”
He waited patiently, and in what he had come to think was a remarkably short period of time for a woman, a servant came to fetch him. The servant brought him to a room he recognized as a wealthy man’s toy, a place indoors meant to practice sword work. Only a very, very wealthy person could afford a room with absolutely nothing in it but a pile of thick pads in one corner. Only the amazingly wealthy could afford the walls of mirrors. Or the multicandled things that lowered down from the ceiling to shed an even light at night. The Princess was waiting for him, with four guards this time; she was very sensibly dressed in buff-colored breeches and a linen tunic, a pair of sturdy boots, and with her hair braided up and pinned to her head.
The surprise was that the Godmother, in her guise of the Queen, was also there. She looked shockingly out of place in this very purposed room, in her elaborate black gown of the finest of silk and knitted lace.
He grinned, and bowed. He decided on the spur of the moment that now was the time to let her know what he knew. He walked up to her, where she stood apart from the rest. “Hello, Godmother,” he said cheerfully, in a voice too low to carry to the guards. She probably did not want them to know what she was, and she wouldn’t thank him for letting the secret out of the bag.
The woman’s eyes widened, but she gave no other indication that he had surprised her. Instead, she granted him a slow smile. Good. She wasn’t angry. It wasn’t wise to anger a Godmother. Anyone who could casually distribute cursed objects the way she had was someone he did not want to cross. “And if I say that you are smarter than you look?”
“I’ll thank you for it. Do you need any lessons?” he asked, with an inviting tilt of the head.
“Not really. I have magic.” She flexed her fingers, and little crackles of lightning ran across the back of her knuckles. “But I am very interested in what you can show Rosa.”
He nodded, and becoming all business, he turned back to face the waiting young woman and her entourage. “Then let us begin with the most common way someone is likely to attack the Princess. When she is alone, because she is in a great hurry, and in a passage she thinks is safe.”
Rosa was not, and never had been, what anyone would consider fragile. She had gotten her share of bruises learning to handle sheep, she had fallen from jumping horses, she had gotten burns learning to cook over a hearth fire. But today she had learned that she was not nearly as hardy as she had thought that she was, and rather than making her feel frustrated, angry or afraid, the realization filled her with elation, because it meant that Siegfried was not holding back with her. He respected her enough and, for whatever selfish or unselfish reasons, wanted to see she was good enough to protect herself. If teaching her that meant that she got hurt, well, that was the cost of knowledge. She had known all her life that nothing in life came without a cost. She would far rather have a bruise now than face the Huntsman again and be unable to stop him or run from him.
One thing was certain. If the Huntsman ever attacked her the same way that he attacked her before, he was definitely going to have a broken instep, probably would have the most painful goolies in the history of the Kingdom and might even be choking on a broken windpipe, for those were the three moves that Siegfried had taught her to master today. They were shockingly simple. It had never occurred to her that simply smashing her foot down on his instep would break every bone in it—but he proved it by showing her how the same blow would break a thick bit of board, and foot bones were ever so much more delicate.
“If you’re wearing a shoe or a boot with a heel to it, all the better,” he’d added. “Like a riding boot. Concentrates all the force on a smaller place. And you might not think it, but I can tell you, there’s only one pain that’s worse than a broken foot.”
Then he showed her how, when instinct and pain made the man bend over, to smash the back of her head into his nose. Even if she didn’t break it, she’d give him more pain at the cost of very little of her own.
And then, while his hands were coming up to cover his face, how to pivot and bring up the knee, or smash the point of her elbow into the windpipe.
Then run.
“And shout while you’re doing it,” he told her, over and over. “Shouting keeps you from getting frozen with fear. Besides, you never know who might be about. This is a big place with a lot of people in it. You never know who might be taking a shortcut, or who might be where he’s not supposed to be. If anyone hears you, even if they don’t come to help you themselves, say it’s a little lad or a scullion-girl, they’ll probably run off to get help. And even if there are two to grab you, and you get carried off, people will know right away, and pursuit will be on your attacker’s heels instead of an hour behind. Now, let’s try this again, and shout this time.”
Lily watched from the sidelines with a face thoughtful and approving. Rosa was rather amused at that. It looked as if Lily had decided that Siegfried was going to be worth cultivating after all.
When they ran out of every bit of time that Rosa could spare for the lesson, she was sure of one thing; she wanted another. In fact, she wanted a lot more than that. She wanted a lot of lessons.
“Think you can spare me more of your time again, Princess?” the Northlander said as she pinned her hair back up again and tidied herself. “We’ve only just begun what I’d like you to know.” He eyed her Guardsmen again. “No disrespect to your men, Princess, but they’re trained for war, not for fighting the sort of lawless scum I’ve been trained against, the kind that’d rather take you from behind. And that’s the kind you’ve got to be wary of.”
“I’ll make time,” she vowed. “And I’d like you to train my Guardsmen every day that you can.”
Siegfried grinned. “It’ll be a pleasure, and a change from play-fighting your other suitors.” He waggled his eyebrows at the four Guardsmen, one of whom groaned, for Siegfried had not been at all gentle with them. Then he turned to Lily. “I’d like you to put a stiff leather or metal lining in a high collar in the Princess’s gowns, if you haven’t already,” he said gravely. “Someone trying to strangle her will get a rude surprise, and a bit of surprise will give her a chance to squirm away, do a bit of harm and run.”
“We will,” Lily replied, and smiled slowly. “So far, of all the presents that have been given to Rosamund, I think that I like this one the best.”
16
THE FOREST WAS COOL, DEEP IN SHADOW AND fragrant with the scents of leaf and herb. The only sounds were those of birds and the occasional rustle of something scurrying through the underbrush. It was, above all, peaceful. Exactly what Siegfried craved at this point. “What exactly are we doing?” Leopold asked Siegfried, as the latter sent his sturdy old horse ambling down another random path in the forest. The leaf-litter sent up the aroma of dead leaf and moss as the horses kicked it up, their hooves making dull sounds as they walked along.
“I’m not sure,” the Northerner replied, taking a deep breath of the forest air and feeling a great deal of tension flow out of him. “I just couldn’t stand being in the Palace or the city anymore. You can go back to the King’s Arms if you want.” He still wasn’t sure why Leopold had insisted on coming along.
“And leave you to get eaten by bears?” Leopold snorted. Siegfried wondered if he was woods-wise in any way at all, or if the only thing that a forest meant to him was something to be gotten through as quickly as possible. “Or worse—run into your fire-circle maiden?”
Siegfried laughed and shook his head. “The bears are more likely to get eaten by me. I killed one when I was no taller than your waist. You forget I practically grew up in woods like these. This forest is more comfortable to me than any room in any building could ever be. As for the maiden, I think the Godmother mi
ght—” He paused, as a sound caught his attention. “Wait, I hear something.” He held up his hand to keep Leopold from talking, and listened as carefully as he could. Yes, there it was again, a kind of scrabbling sound and a whimper. “Something’s in trouble.”
“Fine, if it’s a something it can stay in—” Leopold began, his tone wary. But Siegfried left Leopold talking to the empty air as he slipped out of the saddle and followed his ears. The sounds led him off the path and into the deeper forest, where he had to pick a way among the bushes and undergrowth. The sounds persisted and he followed them, until he found himself very near a long bar of sunlight streaming down from above on a tangle of vegetation.
The canopy wasn’t as thick here; an absolutely enormous tree had come down, probably in that big storm everyone was still talking about, clearing out a swath of lesser trees and bushes as it fell. Around the trunk, things were a mess, broken branches and debris surrounding it. Siegfried heard the scrabbling again, from up ahead, along the trunk. It sounded like whatever creature was making the noise was desperate.
When the tree had come down, it had made a tangle of the whole area; rather than fight his way through the mess along the trunk, Siegfried decided to see if he could find an easier path, moving back into the forest and paralleling the trunk. Still following his ears, with Leopold trailing cautiously behind him, he got as close as he could to the sounds before getting his axe off his belt and hacking the rest of the way in. In the quiet of the forest, he made a terrible racket; startled birds exploded through the branches above him, and a hare bolted away from practically under his feet. The sounds stopped then, but he knew where he was going, and at any rate the noise of his chopping was probably terrifying whatever poor beast was making them.
He emerged at the trunk, made a little cleared space, and as he looked around, it was obvious what the problem was.
Dug under the fallen trunk was a den. Four woeful little fox kits stared out at him from behind a screen of debris and branches. Claw marks showed where frantic digging had failed to free them. It looked to Siegfried as if a she-fox had made herself a den here after the storm, and then at some point today half a tree that had been left hanging above it had decided to come down, trapping the kits. The scrabbling and whimpering he’d heard must have been her, trying to get to them. Of course she was nowhere to be seen now.
“Well, if you want a present for Rosamund, there’s some fur,” Leopold said, pointing to the kits. The little ones couldn’t understand him the way they could understand Siegfried, but he was looking at them, and they probably thought he was going to eat them.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t kill kits for fur. The Princess would be appalled.” The poor kits were nearly out of their minds with fear now. He whistled for the bird, which flitted through the trees and landed on a bit of the debris at eye-height. “Can you find the mother and coax her back?” he asked her. “Tell her I’m getting the kits out.” He chirruped at them, but they ignored him. Even though they should have understood him, they were too terrified to think. They couldn’t go much longer without feeding; their eyes were beginning to look a little glazed to him.
“Of course!” The bird flitted off. Siegfried examined the problem in front of him. There were a lot of branches piled up, and one log as big around as his thigh. The best solution would be to cut all that up.
He needed them to get away from the debris-choked entrance, because once he started chopping, an inquisitive nose in the wrong place could result in tragedy. He went down on one knee next to the den to explain, but as soon as he approached, they squirmed as deep as they could manage under the big log all by themselves, cowering away from him. Assured now he wouldn’t strike them with errant chips or his axe, he raised the axe over his head and began carefully chopping away the debris, checking now and again to be sure he wasn’t making things worse.
There was a lot of brush here, and the branches were springy. He was about halfway through the obstacle, when the bird flitted back followed by a trembling vixen. The little fox looked up at him with a terrified face, cowering when she saw the axe in his hand as if she expected him to rain blows down on her at any moment.
“It’s all right, little mother,” Siegfried said soothingly, looking, not straight at her, but off to the side. “You’ve nothing to fear from me. Give me a little more time. We’ll have your children out.”
“I hope so,” Leopold said, sounding a little cross. “If we’re going to wander about the forest, I’d prefer to do so in the saddle. I’m getting eaten to death by midges and mosquitoes.” But he waded into the brush and started pulling the stuff that Siegfried had already cut, hauling it away from the mouth of the den so that Siegfried could get more easily at that last barrier.
The vixen slowly got over her fear when she saw he was doing what he said he would do. Her ears came up, her tail came out from between her legs, and she darted in to seize branches in her teeth and haul them away for him.
A short time later, while the vixen danced with impatience, Siegfried made the last cut through the thick branch lying across the entrance, Leopold pulled the branch away, and the vixen dashed inside. From within the darkness of the den, suckling sounds emerged.
“There you go, little mother,” Siegfried called. There was no answer, but he didn’t expect one.
“What, no ‘thank you’?” Leopold said mockingly. “All right, let’s get back to the horses and the King’s Arms.”
“Are you sure you want to?” Siegfried asked. “It’s cruel hot in the city. It’s nice and cool here.” He shouldered his axe and made his way back to the path, listening to the life of the forest come back to normal now that he wasn’t making all that racket anymore.
“It is cool here, as long as I don’t have to chop wood or do some other insane thing you think you need to do. How can you tell where you’re going in this maze?” Leopold asked.
“You weren’t the one chopping wood, and I know where I am going because I follow the bird,” said Siegfried with amusement. “All right, how about this. You were complaining that you couldn’t find a gift for the Princess in the city that every other suitor would be able to duplicate. You will be much more likely to find something out here. As long as it doesn’t require killing something that doesn’t need to be killed, we stay here in the forest until we find something for you to give Rosamund to impress her.”
He pushed aside some bushes, and there were the horses, waiting patiently, pulling up the few blades of grass they could find. Grass had a hard time growing where there was so little direct sunlight.
“What are we going to find here? It’s a forest,” Leopold asked incredulously. “There’s no one out here!”
“That’s where you are wrong, and that is why we’ll find something. It’s a forest. It’s The Tra—” He stopped himself from saying “The Tradition” in time. “It’s the way things work. Forests are full of magical things. The bigger the forest, and the more powerful the kingdom’s Godmother is, the more magical things will be in it.”
Leopold took up his horse’s reins and fitted one boot into the stirrup. “Well if we find that frog who says he’s a Prince in here, I am not bringing him back. I refuse to add to the competition.”
They mounted, Siegfried cheerfully, Leopold impatiently, and Siegfried led the way deeper in.
They passed by the ruins of a cottage; it had once been carved and painted in a manner that was like nothing he had ever seen before. The door was off its hinges and on the ground, there were holes in the roof, and most of the trim had fallen off. They went inside and looked it over curiously, but could find nothing to tell who had lived there or what had happened to her. Her, Siegfried was fairly sure, because of the tattered remains of black dresses and skirts in a chest. Whoever it was had done a lot of baking, for there was an outsize oven in the yard. Maybe that accounted for why what was left of the walls and roof looked like a fancy wedding cake. It almost looked as if something else had been fastened over the woo
d, but whatever it had been was long gone.
“That place’s almost morbidly cheerful,” Leopold noted, as they left the cottage behind. “I think if I lived in a house that looked like you could eat yourself sick on it, I’d have to kill myself after a while.” The path emerged from the woods and came out beside a pond. “Maybe that’s what happened to the owner. She couldn’t stand it anymore and jumped into her own oven. And why would you need a cottage to look like that out where no one could see it but you, anyway?”
“Maybe she used to be a baker in the city,” Siegfried suggested.
If the cottage had been morbidly cheerful, this pond was just morbid. Despite the fact that the sun was high in the sky, there was no sign of sunlight here—it might have been twilight, not almost noon. It was surrounded by weeping willows that dripped their boughs morosely into the water, and a mist hung over most of the open area and wreathed in among the trees. The surface was covered with lily pads, but there were no lily flowers among the flat green leaves.
There was also no sound. Not a frog, not a bird, not even the plop of a fish.
Siegfried sensed something that he didn’t like about the place. Something dark and dangerous. His skin began to crawl, and he felt the distinct urge to get away from there as quickly as he could.
And at that moment, the mist on the far side parted to reveal a beautiful, golden-haired girl, sitting with her legs dangling in the water, combing out her tresses. Except for the hair, she was absolutely nude. That was when Siegfried recognized exactly what the peril was.
“Now that’s more like—” Leopold exclaimed, his eyes lighting up.
And Siegfried grabbed his friend’s horse’s reins, pulling them out of Leopold’s hands, and spurred his own horse, plunging both of them into the green-scented forest gloom again. They needed to get away from there fast. Before she saw them and started singing.
The Sleeping Beauty Page 23