Sweetie Belle new chapter, Bridge Troll Chapter 6, plus Espanol · 3:43pm Nov 28th, 2022
11/28 First before I forget again, Spaniard Kiwi did a Spanish reading of The Dance of the Sun. It sounds wonderful. Now, onward to the real reason I’m posting before I forget more. I’ve got another chapter done in Sweetie Belle - Hogwarts Exchange Student now and I’m publishing it now. The Last Nightguard cut into my writing time for existing stories over the last few months (and I’m not that fast to start with) so tomorrow I’ve got a chapter of Twinkle Twinkle Speaker to Dragons to post also and that’s going to be it for a few weeks.
In Sweetie, I have to honestly admit that trying to characterize Francis Helpenstell (Hufflepuff, First Year) was the hardest part of writing this chapter. And keeping Woona in the painting like a good little fragment of a redeemed monster should be. Oh, and the bit about the lemon drop. It's good to remember Hogwarts is where some of the most clever wizards and witches wind up, after all. (even if they're all a little weird)
To help you in this trying time, I’ve got the sixth chapter of The Knight, The Fey Maiden, and the Bridge Troll following this short blathering note of mine. It’s cut a bit short, but… Well, you’ll see.
The Young Knight, the Fey Maiden, and the Bridge Troll
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
The Knight, The Fey Maiden, and the Bridge Troll
Promises
Fetch was not feeling very promising, unlike Quartz. The troll was fully occupied in the inn’s common room, dealing with merchants as they dropped by and proposed various deals. Admittedly, it was more effective than struggling their way through the crowded market in the late afternoon. Since Quartz was planning on buying far more than a coil or two of rope, the ropemakers were more than happy to stop by the inn, drink a tankard of their pale ale, and make a few preliminary offers. Tomorrow would be where the real bargaining would take place, but it helped to get a good idea about the price of the product, delivery options, and other such details in advance. Then of course there would be a similar visit in the Kingdom of Forselt on the other side of the not-bridge to get permission and more supplies a few weeks from now.
Every large project broke down into a series of smaller projects much like mathematics, an idea that he had not thought much in the village where most of his projects were small things. Kingdoms were far larger projects stuffed full of uncertainties, like who to send as a diplomatic envoy to neighboring kingdoms and what they were permitted to negotiate, or how many soldiers to keep armed and supplied where each of them took the taxes and resources of at least a dozen families.
King Seiki did not have to concern himself with that exact trade-off, but faced a slightly different conundrum. Every captive he took required a certain number of soldiers to guard, and merely taking whatever dregs he could force into service resulted in far worse service than Nadare received from their alert soldiers with complete armor and well-forged weapons. Worse, his conscripted brutes needed food, and without a good supply structure they pillaged and stole as they advanced, leaving desolation and ruin in their wake instead of hard-working citizens paying taxes to support them.
Inevitably, King Seiki’s army would collapse on itself, or at least that was the opinion of King Piast, an ordinary-appearing human with coal-black hair and piercing eyes. He had listened to every bit of information Fetch could remember, then proceeded to ask additional questions until the answers faded into little specks of insight and occasional guesses. From his expression, the king was worried that the usurper would eventually use Quartz’s bridge to march on his kingdom, but Fetch calmed that worry rather effectively, to his own surprise.
“Quartz told me every troll bridge has a keystone,” said Fetch. “It belongs to the troll and only to the troll. If threatened, the troll takes the keystone and leaves. Then the bridge falls in and the troll builds a new bridge somewhere else. I think they like building them more than running them, because his father built around a half-dozen smaller bridges in their city and leased them to their king. All except for the keystones, of course.”
If anybody had told Fetch a few months ago that he would be talking to a king about anything…
“Hail, Mudfoot.” Tula heaved a chair over to where Fetch was sitting mostly by himself and plunked down in it, passing over one of the tankards she was holding. “I missed most of your discussion since I was called away. Did your troll sign his contract with my mother?”
Caught between standing up for her and holding the earthenware tankard, Fetch settled back down on top of Quartz’s iron-bound chest where he had been sitting for security. “Quartz says a contract is only for two people who don’t trust each other. He prefers a good handshake. He wrote down the details, of course, just so there wouldn’t be any confusion.”
“Still should have a contract.” The princess took a deep swig out of her tankard. “We’ve got hundreds of contracts filed back at the castle.”
“Between merchants,” said Fetch carefully, since he was unused to talking with royalty, doubly so for young women in noisy common rooms of busy inns. “If they break a contract, they go to the crown to adjudicate their dispute. If your mother decides not to hold up her end of the agreement, who could Quartz go to? Your father?”
Tula gave a noncommittal grunt, then crossed her legs and regarded Fetch. “So what did you tell Father about the usurper?”
“Everything,” he admitted. “Your brother wrote it all down. I had no idea little observations like mine could be combined with others until a much larger picture emerges. Like a drawing where every scratch of the quill adds to those before it.”
The princess raised one blonde eyebrow fractionally. “You can draw, too.”
“Can’t everybody?” Fetch was not the best artist in the village by far, but his drawings of various creatures and plants were all crisp and clear, detailing everything that he could pick out with the glass lens that the herbalist owned. The entire village had a superior talent, with their own collection of drawings left behind when they fled the usurper’s army, including the one Fetch had done of the entire village as the sun went down and the shadows gathered. He was rather proud of that one, and so was Missus Triana since she had pinned it to her bedroom wall.
“I can’t draw,” said the princess bluntly. She drained the rest of her earthenware tankard, then held it in both hands. “It makes doing most magic more difficult, but I can still do spells that I’ve practiced. Like this.”
There was a greenish shimmer of light and the tankard changed, shifting around until a cluster of roses was clutched in Princess Tula’s hands. They were imperfect, as flowers tended to be, but they were slightly more lumpy and shaded than the real thing.
“That’s not bad,” admitted Fetch. “Ottao says Transformation magic is naturally quite difficult to keep people from just creating anything we need.”
“If it wasn’t for my mother, I wouldn’t even be able to do this.” The shimmer of light returned and when it faded, she was holding onto the empty tankard again.
“Quartz said lizards can transform themselves. I mean wizards,” said Fetch in an unexpected attempt to make himself informational instead of powerless since he could not even transform a leaf. There was something about the young woman that made him blurt out things despite himself, and no matter how much he determined to keep his mouth shut, it kept flapping open again.
“That’s actually easier,” said Tula. “I can sprout pixie wings and fly if it’s important. Normally, it’s easier to just take a horse. But flying is fun,” she added, looking straight into Fetch’s transfixed expression. “You like fun, right?”
Caught flat-footed again, Fetch managed to blurt out, “I’ve read some books. And fishing.”
“I mean fun with people your own age,” huffed the princess. “You can’t work all the time. Can you?” she added with a sudden puzzled look. “I mean were you a slave—”
“No!” The concept was so abhorrent to Fetch that he was unable to speak, but something became obvious the more he considered it. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” Princess Tula gestured with the empty mug at the rest of the crowded common room, most of whom were gathered near Quartz and his loud conversation about rebuilding the bridge since it was something that most of the town seemed interested about.
“You came to the inn just to bother me,” said Fetch as more puzzle pieces fell into place. “Why?”
“Did not,” said Tula. She reached out and grasped Fetch’s hand, tilting his tankard to pour half of his ale into hers.
“If you wanted to know about King Seiki, you would have talked to your father,” said Fetch, raising one finger. “If you wanted to know about Quartz’s bridge arrangements, you would have talked to your mother. So why talk to me?”
Tula hesitated while taking a drink, this one considerably smaller and more princess-like. “It’s not important.”
“I mean I appreciate the company,” continued Fetch, feeling an urge to scratch the back of his tankard-holding hand where the princess’ fingers had touched. “The whole town is new and full of things I’ve never seen before in my home village. It was exceedingly nice to have you along as a guide among the merchants while we were getting prepared to meet your mother, for example. I owe you a debt and have no idea how to pay it.”
That brought out a deeper silence from the young lady, who held onto her tankard with both hands and seemed to be inspecting something inside like a speck of dirt or an insect. The sound of several men coming into the inn distracted him, and Fetch took a long look at the armed but peaceful guards before turning his attention back to Tula.
“They’re here for you, aren’t they?”
The princess nodded, giving the two guards a look that should have set them on fire even though they were still across the room.
“You’re a princess,” said Fetch, feeling absolutely idiotic at stating the blatantly obvious that way. “I mean you’re important to your parents and the kingdom, so of course they’re going to want you protected.”
“My mother has fourteen children,” said Tula into her tankard so quietly that Fetch could barely hear in the noisy room. “My father is her third husband, and half of her offspring are older than he is. I’m just number eleven.”
“And the town that’s so new and exciting to me is old and boring to you after being around it for… how long?” asked Fetch.
“Three hundred and twenty-seven years this summer.” The young-appearing princess thought for a moment. “Or around that.”
Fetch nodded. “That’s a long time to be cooped up in one place. Have you thought about having your parents let you travel to one of the nearby kingdoms for a decade or two?”
“Wait.” The princess looked up with a sparkle in her green eyes. “You believe me?”
“Why would you lie to me?” asked Fetch.
“Because I wanted to see your reaction, and you didn’t.” Tula rolled her eyes. “Takes all the fun out of it.”
“So I’m a toy for you to play with because you’re bored?” asked Fetch. “Like a cat?”
The princess took a few moments before responding, keeping an eye on the two armored guards who were lurking around the door to the inn like a pair of armored housecats waiting on a mouse. “Maybe. You’re a lot more fun than any of the locals. They’re either scheming to use me for some political purpose or… other reasons.”
“What other reasons?” asked Fetch before thinking.
That made the princess pause for a longer time and look directly into his eyes, which was even more destructive to his thinking. “You really don’t know, do you? Didn’t you have any other children in your village?”
It was difficult to explain and the rest of the villagers were gone elsewhere now, so it really didn’t matter. Besides, Fetch did not want to elaborate about the painful memories. “No.”
“It was bad enough before the usurper,” said Tula in a near-growl. “Now, my parents see agents of King Seiki behind every bush and they’re trying to get me married off. Can’t go anywhere because I could get kidnapped and used for leverage. Can’t go into the woods anymore, can’t go to the market without several of the guards all around and some of them knights who are looking at me with—”
Tula broke off suddenly and glared.
“It’s not my fault,” said Fetch. “I just wanted to say I appreciate you showing me around town, and I didn’t get a chance to thank you. That’s all.”
“That’s all.” For a young lady somewhat shorter than Fetch, she had a very intent glare.
“It’s far less credit than you deserve.” Fetch ran one hand over his new tunic. “I’ve never had clothes this nice before, and your town has so many things I’ve never seen before. I never thought a real princess would ever take time for me. Thank you. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, just ask.”
“You’re already building a bridge for us—”
“For Quartz,” said Fetch quickly. “It will benefit both kingdoms on either side, and people all around this area too. I think your mother appreciates that more than you realize. She really cares about your people. And your father keeps an eye on the threats to your kingdom to protect them, you included. He wanted to know everything about King Seiki’s men, from their officers to their attitudes… Oh, I forgot about the sword.”
“A sword? You mean you have a family sword like a prince—”
“No!” Fetch raised his voice enough that several of the merchants gathered around Quartz looked over in his direction before returning to their discussion.
“No,” he said again, much quieter once the attention turned away. “What is it about orphans with swords turning up in town anyway? Are they all supposed to marry princesses and get their own kingdoms somewhere?”
“What about mysterious orphan princesses with family swords?” asked Tulu.
Fetch waved one hand. “They’d find handsome princes to marry, I presume. All I have is a notched hunk of metal that I stole from— Oh! I didn’t tell your father about the things I stole from the soldiers when I escaped. Do you want to take it back to your father? Maybe he can… do some sort of magic on it and find out more information on King Seiki’s soldiers.”
“My father can’t cast spells.”
For a moment, Fetch regarded the princess with what he feared was an expression of abject stupidity. “If you’re three hundred and twenty-seven years old—”
“I’m twenty-seven,” said Tulu sharply. “I was pulling your leg.”
“Please don’t,” said Fetch. “There are so many new things I’ve seen today that I don’t need to have falsehoods mixed in with them. So your father isn’t a wizard, and you’re…”
“Twenty-seven,” admitted Tulu.
“No, I meant to ask what it was like to have so many siblings. I think the most anybody in my village had was three. But I’m being too nosey. I’ll just go get the sword and you can take it to your parents for whatever wizarding needs to be done on it.”
Tulu raised one finger, then pointed it at the chair. Fetch took the hint and sat back down.
“My mother’s not a wizard either. We don’t have a wizard in the whole kingdom. They’re rare.”
Fetch took a moment to think about his words, but the princess beat him to it. “What I did with the tankard isn’t being a wizard. It’s just our magic. Fey magic, that is. Transforming sticks into flowers or dirt into gold for a short time is about it. Wizards can turn princes into frogs. All I can do is turn them into stammering idiots.”
Instead of talking, Fetch nodded. Then when the princess did not say anything else, he reluctantly opened his mouth and added, “Dwarves have earthen magic, and some of the other races have their niches too. Bridge trolls have some sort of rock magic because I’ve seen Quartz cut through rock like it was clay. Do your parents know anybody who can find out… I mean learn from… Look at the sword and get anything useful out of it,” he managed in one quick burst of words.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” Fetch muttered under his breath in a constant stream of self-criticism as he stumbled across the cobblestones in the direction of the livery stable where they had stored the wagon. “The princess said she didn’t like turning people into stammering idiots and what do I do? Blather like a moron, talking about the obvious. Oh, good evening.”
The stableboy bobbed his head and looked around, clutching his cudgel firmly. “Evening, Master Fetch. Are you and your troll leaving so soon?”
“No, I need to pick up something we left in the wagon. Is there something wrong?”
“Just a crazy old begger in the area. Be careful walking around, sir.”
It still made Fetch uneasy to be called a sir, even though he had been attempting to become a knight so long ago. The dented breastplate and rough sword seemed so much like toys now, put aside by a child with delusions of glory and importance.
Carrying both bulky items across the street would have been awkward in the best of circumstances, but the darkness made a trip on an unseen rock and subsequent accidental stabbing almost inevitable. He slung the breastplate on and tied the leather straps loosely before facing the issue of the scabbard-less sword.
“It’s dull enough I can’t cut myself,” he mused. “I’ll just be careful.”
The trip back to the inn went fairly well, as in nobody came springing out of the darkness to accuse him of theft. He hurried his steps despite the darkness because the princess was sitting on Quartz’s locked chest in his place, and the last thing Fetch wanted was for her to be irritated at playing the role of a guard dog. She was both pretty and smart, along with the energy to dive into difficult tasks such as escorting a nobody boy and a troll around the town, so it was understandable why he was attracted to her. It was also understandable why any kind of attraction on his part was doomed to disaster. Still…
Memories of the sparkles in her green eyes distracted Fetch when he reached the back door of the inn and he almost stumbled over a hunched figure sitting on the steps.
“Beg pardon,” said Fetch out of habit, only to have the dark shape lurch upwards, grabbing onto the carried sword with one powerful hand.
“I recognize that bladework,” the hulking dwarf growled. He straightened up, glaring at Fetch with all the fury of a blazing forest fire. “Yer a minion of that gormless bastard Seiki,” spat the dwarf while showing the stump of his other arm. “His wizard took me hand, and it’s only fair that I take somethin’ of his in return.”
Ah. I figured that some sort of awkward meeting would ensue after he put on his armor.
This is fun, and I look forward to more.
Awww, thank you
.