"You should be," the bird said smugly. Siegfried's temper flared again, but he reined it in and managed to get Leopold to saddle and bridle his horse and swing up into that saddle without having to say another word. Now his best hope was that he could just get them to the pass and the cave without Leopold deciding to start composing sad songs instead of poems. He wasn't sure he would survive songs.
So far there were only seven Princes on the way to the pass. Desmond was in the lead — he'd gotten the rather common curse of boils, and they'd broken out all over his face. Almost as soon as the affliction had occurred, he'd gotten his horse and ridden out.
With the collusion of Jimson, Rosa was watching him, and Siegfried and Leopold, in Jimson's mirror. Normally it was a good week of hard riding to Sharpstone Pass, but Lily had taken pity on the poor fellows, and she'd cast the "All Paths Are One" spell to shorten their journey. Their map routed them all over an obscure little trail that almost no one ever used, which they would encounter early on their second day. It was drawn to look like a shortcut, which would guarantee that they would use it. That was where the spell had been placed.
Prince Desmond, however, had been so desperate to rid himself of his affliction that he had pressed his horse onto that path late in the evening of the first day. As a consequence, at this very moment, with a pack on his back, he was climbing up one of the mountains at the pass —
Not the mountain that the dragon's cave was in, but one opposite it, which puzzled her more than a little.
"What do you think he's doing?" she asked Jimson.
"I confess myself baffled," the Mirror Servant replied, as the mirror showed Desmond making his way up a narrow goat track. "Utterly baffled. I thought maybe he was going to talk to Gina and ask her to deliver the object, which is perfectly within the rules, but no. Wait, look, he's settling down — "
And so he was. He removed the pack and pulled out a crossbow and a handful of blunted bolts, arrows that had a round ball-like head. With practiced ease, he cocked the bow, inserted a bolt and took aim at the entrance to Sharpstone's cave.
"Oh, of course!" Rosa exclaimed as the bolt fell short. "Oh, that's clever. As soon as it's in the cave, it's part of the hoard, of course. And with the head blunted, those bolts wouldn't do more than bruise a man at the distance he's shooting. If they hit Sharpstone, he probably wouldn't even feel it."
"Likely not. Itis clever," Jirnson agreed. They both watched as the Prince sighted on the cave, made sure of his target by getting three bolts in succession inside the entrance, then took his object — a gold coin — and affixed it to the front of the blunt head with beeswax. This was risky; if he fell short, he was going to have to climb down, find the coin, climb back up and try again. Finding the coin was going to be the trick. There was a lot of mountain out there....
As Rosa held her breath, he sighted and let fly.
The bolt sailed in through the mouth of the cave, just under the upper rim.
"Oh, well done!" Jimson exclaimed, as a moment later Prince Desmond's plague of facial boils began to fade. "Good shot!"
"I hope some of the others think of that," Rosa said. "Let's check Siegfried and Leopold."
They left Desmond clambering back down the mountainside and found the Northerner and his companion within sight of the pass. The two of them were still on horseback, but the track was right in the mountains now. Pines clung to the steep slopes on either side of them. Siegfried was on the lead horse, slumped over the saddle, looking miserable. Leopold — was singing.
He wasn't good at it.
"My heart is wrapped in endless night," he warbled dismally. "And something, something, something blight. And in despair my soul is led — "
"Your mother dropped you on your head!" the bird sang scathingly.
Siegfried choked on a laugh. Evidently, that wasn't misery; that was a valiant attempt to keep from falling out of his saddle with laughter. Rosa didn't have to hide hers, nor did Jimson.
"My spirit weeps in awful dread!" Leopold howled, oblivious to the effect he was having on his audience. "Oh, love shall never-more be mine!"
"I think your brains were soaked in brine!" the bird sang.
"So drown it in a mug of wine!" Siegfried countered, and a frog hit his horse's neck and leapt off into the brush at the side of the path.
"I moan, I sigh, I do repine!" groaned Leopold. "Oh love, sweet love, will never be!"
"Because she kicked you in the — knee!" The bird caroled. Siegfried choked.
Leopold stopped singing and glared at them both. "You're ruining my art!" he whined.
Rosa convulsed with laughter, her sides aching and her eyes watering, to the point of having to gasp to catch her breath. Jimson snickered.
"Leopold," Siegfried said, in a placating tone. "Vibration. Avalanche. Please." He managed to produce only one toad, which followed the frog, as he pointed upward at the loose slip area above the trail, a tumble of boulders that didn't look in the least stable.
"Oh, all right," Leopold grumbled. He slumped down in his saddle, looking for all the world like a surly adolescent in a state of high sulk.
"Oh, poor Siegfried," Rosa gasped, wiping tears from her eyes. "How did anyone ever produce a curse that complex? And more to the point, why?"
"I have no idea, Princess," said Jimson. "None. I don't remember Lily ever picking that one up, so either she got it before I became her helper, or it was in storage from her predecessor. But I must admit, it is a work of art of the highest order."
By this time the two men had spotted the cave and the narrow, winding path that led to a final difficult scramble over a rock field up to it. And Sharpstone, possibly having been awakened from his sleep by Desmond's arrows, was just oozing his way out of the cave. The dragon looked down at them from his heights and sneered.
Sharpstone was a long, lean, snakelike beast, a sort of bronze-black in color. His scales must have been the size of dinner plates. No teeth were visible when his mouth was closed, but since his head was easily twice the size of a horse, he might not need huge fangs to kill someone; he could just swallow the offending party whole. His eyes were a dull gold, and had a sardonic look to them.
He stretched out on a ledge to watch them, as they edged up the path, and then scrambled over the last several hundred feet of loose rock and boulders to get to him. From his posture, Rosa got the feeling that he was really enjoying their struggles and was in no hurry to put an end to the fun.
He waited until they stood panting before him before he decided to speak.
"Go away," he hissed, his eyes narrowing with pleasure at thwarting them. "You bore me." He had maneuvered himself so that his considerable bulk blocked the entrance to his cave so they couldn't just throw their cursed objects in.
"I'd appreciate it if you would hear us out," Siegfried said testily.
Five frogs and a toad dropped down onto the rock at his feet, tried to leap away and plummeted to their doom.
Sharpstone's eyes widened at that. "Why should I?" he replied, and tilted his head to the side in anticipation of Siegfried's answer.
"Because perhaps it wouldn't hurt you to be nice for a change?" Siegfried snapped. And a cascade of toads followed the first lot, and like the first, bounced pathetically over the edge.