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.
"I'm positive he'll hold to that," the bird said instantly. "He might even tempt you with it. Of course, if the Shieldmaiden shows up during all this, you might tempt him with her. She is very comely, after all."
"All right, it's a bargain," Siegfried told him. "It's a fine thing, Leopold, and I believe that we can help each other without conflict. My thanks."
The bird fluffed her feathers. "I forgive him. Tell him I'll try not to laugh at him anymore and I promise not to poo in his hat."
Blinking, for the bird had never once given him permission to tell anyone that she wasn't an ordinary pet, Siegfried did so, then cautiously took a sip of his mead and waited for a lightning bolt to strike him down. Leopold grinned. "Ha. I knew she had to be a Wise Beast," he said in triumph, the emphasis and meaning clear in the way he said "Wise Beast." He did not mean a human that had been transformed into a beast, nor yet an ordinary animal that had been enchanted. He meant one of those rare creatures in animal form that had the understanding and intelligence of a very intelligent human indeed — rather more intelligence than a good many humans, and no few gods, if you were talking about the gods of Siegfried's home of Drachenthal.
Siegfried stared at him. "How do you know about such things?" he asked.
Leopold stretched and leaned back. "Let me tell you about my great-grandfather and his boot-wearing cat," he began, and signaled to the serving boy. "But first, another round."
"Trials," Said Lily, tapping her lips with her quill pen. "We are going to need rather a lot of them." It had been a week now, and no more Princes were trickling in, although new adventurers were still arriving. The bunks in the barracks and the tents on the drill-field were all filled up, and the contenders were either having to supply their own tent, find accommodations in the city or take their chances in the forest. This was proving a great boon to the farmers roundabout the city, as the adventurers — since they had not been invited — were being fed, but on the most basic of rations, army-bread. And at that, the General Provisioner of the Army was taking advantage of this to clear the warehouses of army-bread that was anything from two to ten years old. You could easily drive nails with it. "And lucky to have it," the General huffed, when someone dared to complain. "No one asked you here. You're free to go. You're free to buy food you like, if you can find it. You've leave to hunt in the Royal Forest. Stay clear of the Common Forest. Our people need to eat, too. And...by the way, the Royal Forest has... Things...in it."
Not surprisingly, even of the adventurers, there were not a lot who were willing to hunt the Royal Forest after that.
It was a good thing for all of the small farmers thereabouts, who were nervous anyway about crops being trampled into mush if there was an invasion. They were harvesting as soon as anything looked remotely like ripe, hauling it into the city and selling it to these fellows.
It was a good thing for some enterprising women, mostly the wives of bakers, who for a fee would take this stuff that none of these men knew how to cook, cart it away in the morning, and come back with it in some edible state in the afternoon.
It was a very good thing for the taverns, since most of the adventurers opted to save their coin, eat the bread and use the coin to drink with.
However, this state could not persist forever, and it was time to get on with the tests before the mob got out of hand.
"We have rather a lot of Princes," observed Rosa, looking down at the crowded garden, which was full of the visitors. The Palace population had doubled. It was a very good thing that Lily could call on the resources of her own Castle to help feed them. The Chief Palace Cook was not arguing when the number of dishes he managed to squeeze out of the kitchen at every meal mysteriously doubled by the time it got to the dining hall. "Not to mention the adventurers, woodcutters sons, clever shepherds, goose-boys and odd brave little tailor or two."
"True. Hmm." The tip of the quill went tap-tap-tap against Lily's chin. "If this were an ordinary set of trials, things would be different, my dear, but although I would like to be fair to all of them, this is a competition to prove who is the best suited to not only being your husband, but to ruling Eltaria. Frankly, if one of the drill-field lot even places among the finalists, it would be a miracle. And if such a miracle occurs, it will do so without my being fair to them. Sadly, while I would love to present your hand to a sweet young man who is blessed with all manner of graceful skills, none of those skills will serve when staring down an enemy army. So perhaps we should look at the situation in that way." Lily made a note. "So, we need to concentrate on the skills of a King whose War Crown is rarely off his head. The King of Eltaria does not have to be one of the finest of warriors, exactly, although it would help, but he should know his way around a battlefield..."
"Let's start with something simple. Father was always having to get on a horse in full armor and get to one of the borders in next to no time." Rosa stared down at a particularly foppish fellow, who looked as if he would faint if presented with a warhorse, much less the armor. "So, a race. In full armor, on a warhorse. That should eliminate about a third of these fellows at least. But I don't think we should place too much emphasis on the winner, just use it as a way to eliminate people. Perhaps have a cutoff time."
Lily put the pen down and went to join her at the window. She smiled. "We may lose most of that third as soon as they hear what the first trial is."