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return the gold to the king and you'll be a hero."
"And if I don't?"
"Then we will tell everyone that you were tied up like a sausage by choice, playing nasty macho party
games with your two lunatic soul mates here, while poor Merrydot languished in the valley below,
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doomed to go to her grave a virgin."
He paled. "But that would be a damnable lie!"
"So it would," I said affably, "and, for the record, Gerta and I are quite good at lying. We've had lots of
practice."
He ran spread fingers through his sandy hair. "But it all sounds so dishonorable, so downright
unseemly."
Gerta nodded sagely. "He's just the man to help rule Findlebrot," she said in a stage whisper.
"So, Prince Rumkin," I said, "what will it be?"
Prince Tristin dropped to his knees. "Rum-Punch, play the hero, please! My father would kill me if he
ever found out what I'd been up to. He frowns on the whole concept of harem boys. He'd marry me to
someone even worse than Merrydot in a second!"
"Me too," said Adelbert. "I promise we'll back you up every step of the way, have songs sung in your
honor, make feasts in your name." His lower lip quivered.
"And there's always the chance that Merrydot will chose one of these scoundrels over you," I said, "all
things being equal."
Rumkin scuffed his boot in the pink dust. "Oh, all right," he said in a low voice.
"Say, old things, on your way out," the dragon said, "could you dump those ridiculous chains down the
nearest ravine? I can't look at them another second. They're so incredibly tacky."
* * *
Prince Rumkin and Princess Merrydot were married scant hours before she turned sixteen and exceeded
her expiration date. Princes Tristin and Adelbert hung out at the castle long enough to back up Rumkin's
story, then set off for home, shoulders slumped. Fortunately, no one in Findlebrot ever realized they were
pining for one more round of the Whipping Boy and the King instead of marital bliss with the luscious
Merrydot.
The weird screaming up on the mountain, the ominous fires, and clanking of chains ended. No more
gnawed bones were strewn along the high trails and there were no more royal abductions, although I later
heard reports of an excessive amount of broiled squash rinds littering the heights.
True to her word, the princess paid Gerta and me handsomely, though the bulk of our fee came to us in
the form of surplus wedding gifts. I suppose we'll eventually find a use for the silver candle-snuffers and
jewel-encrusted toilet paper cutters. It's the thought that counts, as they say.
The most elegant reward for our exploits, though, Merrydot kept secret until her wedding reception,
where she announced to one and all that henceforth only Four Unseemly Sorrows would be recognized
throughout the kingdom.
That's why, in Findlebrot, it is no longer a sin to be Tall.
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Sarah informs me that she "has just finished her fourth SF novel,The Quiet Invasion, and will go
on to write her fifth, if nobody stops her. When not writing, she sings, dances, does tai chi and
plays the hammered dulcimer, but not all at once." To which I wish to add, in view of the
following story:Arrrrrrh!
Miss Underwood and
the Mermaid
Sarah Zettel
As told by Captain Latimer of Her Majesty's privateerNancy's Pridefor the general edification of
all Their Majesties' subjects by land or sea.
First, let me say, she was not the kind of woman one normally saw in the Debauched Sloth. No mother
who produced that straight spine and those squared shoulders should have permitted her daughter to
know that dim, smoky, dockside tavern where unmarried men with open shirts and braided hair mingled
freely with women of the Queen's navy, and the Queen's privateers.
For all that, the young lady in exquisite, but wholly modest, green silk walked a straight and determined
line. She seemed wholly undeterred by the silence that fell like leaden weight around her. Without pause
she approached the table where I sat with, it must be confessed, Jimmy Harte, an amiable, ample and
generous lad employed by the Sloth's mistress and occasionally by her customers. the stranger looked
right at Jimmy and I swear before Goddess, her eyes flashed with a cold blue light. Jimmy stumbled to his
feet, splashing beer and mumbling excuses, and retreated.
Neither event warmed me to this person.
She turned those eyes to me, and I saw they were huge, ice blue and judgmental in her fair-skinned, rich
woman's face. After the barest instant, I found I had to drop my own gaze to my beer. This also did not
encourage my favor toward her.
The young lady cleared her throat. "You are, I believe, Captain Latimer, of the Queen's privateer,
Nancy's Pride ?"
I raised my gaze and straightened my own shoulders. "I am, and you, Miss, are interrupting my personal
business."
I saw it then, the light shining beneath the blue. Without a doubt there was power here.A witch, then?
With those manners and that Dress? Whoever heard of a prudish witch?
"Then I must apologize for my actions, which without my knowledge or intent have been rude and an
affront; but I must say, I believe that when you hear me out, you will both forgive and understand the
reasons for those actions, as I am on an errand of both delicacy and urgency."
"And you, Miss, were obviously traumatized by a grammar book in your youth."
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