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"And Stenoth looked like he'd kill the lot of us if someone offered him enough to do it." Siegfried patted his horse's neck, more to comfort himself than anything. Karl might murder you in a conflict, but Siegfried had the impression that Stenoth would be willing to do so in the dark, when you were least expecting it, if he thought he'd profit from it. "That mademy blood run cold."

"Desmond seems like a good chap. Look, there's the line — " Leopold waved ahead of them, where a faint line of color against the green of the commons had resolved into a line of tiny figures. "Desmond seems much better than the five. Look, they've brought the carriages up already to the finish line." Leopold pointed at the distant crowd at the point where they had started, and sure enough, the carriages that had brought them all here were pulling up to take them back to the palace. "Hmm. We'll have to share with four other fellows, the way we did when we came in." And since Leopold and Siegfried were still in the front half of the middle group —

"There's going to be a lot of egg-going-bad about." Siegfried slowed his horse to a trot and looked down at its ears. "So, mice, would you be willing to take us all the way to the Palace so we don't have to put up with that?"

The mouse-horse he was riding flicked his ears. "As long as it's at a walk," the Magic Beast replied, sounding amused. "We'd have to walk back there anyway, since we aren't going to be restored in front of everyone. That would be giving part of the game away."

Leopold's mouse-horse glanced over at Siegfried with an amused glance. "I wouldn't want to be in those carriages. How did you know we were mice?"

"A little bird told me," he laughed. The mouse-horses snorted.

"Don't worry. I've no intention of telling anyone else. The Ice-Queen is also the Godmother, isn't she?"

Leopold stared at him as if he had gone mad. "Where did you get the idea that the Queen is also the Godmother? That's pre — " Then he stopped, blinked and sucked in a breath.

"Bloody hell," he said. "That's clever. That is damned clever. That is astonishingly clever. It lets the Godmother run all this without anyone knowing she's doing so. No one can cry 'cheat.'"

More than clever, as Siegfried well knew, and not just because it allowed the Kingdom's Godmother to appear to be aloof from this. It might be one of the reasons why the Princess was alive. The bird had been telling him about The Tradition off and on for years, but this was the first time he'd been able to use some of the things she'd told him to sort out someoneelse's situation. That was why he'd first realized that the Queen could not possibly be as evil as she seemed. If her stepmother really had been a Traditional Evil Stepmother, Rosamund would not even be there. The Queen would be the one making the choice of consort, Rosamund would probably be dead. And probably the trial would be much, much smaller, limited to the five enemy princes, and going on for quite some time as she played them against each other.

"How did you figure that out?" Leopold asked him, his eyes narrowing. "And don't tell me a little bird told you."

"I'm astonished. I think you're getting smarter!" the bird sang from above them. She dipped her wings in salute. "I think I may be a good influence on you!"

"Well..." Siegfried felt rather embarrassed, as not only was Leopold staring at him, the ears of both horses had swiveled to catch what he said. "Partly it was because the Princess isn't nearly as intimidated in her presence as she should be, and partly that the Queen isn't doing the sort of things I would expect if she really was bad. Do you know what I mean?"

"Not.. .really..."

Siegfried rubbed his eyebrows, because with the helmet on he couldn't reach his hair to run his hand through it. "I'll tell you what. Let's get to the Palace, get rid of this armor and go find a good bathhouse. I'll tell you there." He cast a slightly nervous look at the crowd they were rapidly nearing. "You never know who's listening."

Chapter 13

Siegfried's people might have been barbarians by some standards, but they were quite fastidious about cleanliness. Every Clanhouse had a bathhouse attached, and bathing was not a luxury; it was needful. In the winter, the bathhouse was one place you knew you could go to get warm when you were half-frozen, and when your clothing tended to be made of wool and fur, it was a good idea to deflea and delouse them and yourself quite regularly. Bathhouses, as Siegfried knew from experience, were excellent places to have a conversation that you didn't want overheard. The bath attendants would cheerfully put you to soak or steam, and then leave you alone, especially in summer. The walls of a bathhouse were thick to keep in the heat, and usually made of stone or entire logs, which had the effect of preventing most eavesdroppers from listening through walls.

The bathhouse attached to The King's Arms was no exception, with walls at least as thick as Siegfried's arm. It had several small rooms with two tubs in them rather than one big soaking pool, but that was the only way it differed from most of the others Siegfried had seen. The idea was that you scrubbed down, the attendants doused you with buckets of water to clean off the soap, then you soaked in the hot tub. The tubs were very much like oversize barrels, and you soaked in hot water up to your neck in them. Siegfried would have preferred a northern-style steam bath, but this would certainly serve to soak out the aches of riding. He knew how to ride of course; he just didn't do it often. Drachenthal wasn't suited to horses, so he hadn't actually learned until he left his homeland, but even after he had learned, he preferred not to travel in the saddle. He tended to lose horses, actually. Or rather, people tended to shoot them out from under him. He would get fond of the one he had, only to have someone decide that the best way to get rid of the big blond hero was to kill the horse under him. It got disheartening after a while.

He was just settling in for a nice quiet soak, prepared to think about nothing for a while, when he was interrupted by Leopold taking him at his word and bringing up the subject of the Godmother again. "So," Leopold said softly, "tell me what gave you the idea that Queen Sable was the Godmother."

Siegfried eased himself back in the water, bracing against the side of the tub. It was hard to pinpoint exactly where his suspicions had started. "The name, maybe. It's just a small thing, but it was what made me wonder in the first place. It was...too obvious. Too blatant. Who names their daughter 'Sable'? The name is both the color black and a nasty little weasel that lives in the north. King Thurman was supposed to be no fool, and you would think he would see someone named Sable and avoid her at all costs. He wouldn't marry her. And if someone was named Sable, whether she was born with that name or took it on herself, and if she wanted to marry King Thurman, you would think she would know that and use another name."

Leopold considered that, as the steam from the water rose up around his face. "All right. That's got some logic to it, although I think you could be reading far too much into a name. What else?"

Siegfried couldn't blame him for being skeptical. Leopold wasn't able to understand the bird, and it was likely he was having second thoughts about leaping to the same conclusion. He would have to be very careful about mustering his arguments. "It seemed strange to me in retrospect that the Godmother rescued the Princess, delivered her to the gate, then vanished, and only then did Queen Sable appear." Time to elaborate on that statement. "I would have thought that the Godmother would have stayed to have some sort of confrontation with the Queen, warn her that the Princess was under her protection. Wouldn't you?"