'Ah, I can answer that!' Dean Porfirio said. 'First, the girl herself wades into the river and as soon as she sees the sunrise touch the water, she recites the Prayer for a Prosperous Husband. Then-'
'Prayer for a
'Prosperous Husband. That's the whole point of having a Maiden Morn, letting a girl send out the word that she's officially on the marriage market. Then, as soon as she finishes reciting the poem-'
Zoli stopped spang dead in the middle of the path and slapped her forehead. 'So
'Doesn't want a prosperous husband?' Dean Porfirio inquired mildly.
'Doesn't
Dean Porfirio's brow darkened. 'That bloated sack of lizard droppings had me assaulted and left for dead in an alley, once. And Ethelberthina still talks about how he kept trying to get his hands on her trust fund. Hmph! No wonder the child doesn't want to advertise for a husband, even if it is no more than an empty ritual: She must think they're all like her father.'
'Even me?' Garth asked in a surprisingly small voice for one who had single-handedly destroyed his share of dark legions, demon hordes, and effete high priests in his salad days.
'Of course not you.' Zoli patted her husband's cheek. 'It's not that Ethelberthina
'Unlike her sisters,' Garth remarked. Everyone nodded. Ethelberthina's elder sisters, Mauve and Demystria, were famous in Overford song and story as being two of the most husband-hungry maidens ever to flutter a fan, drop a hankie, or bat a set of eyelashes at anything midway male. Recently Demystria had succeeded in her quest, using all her wiles and three bottles of Old Dragonbreath Reserve to extract a promise of marriage from a blacksmith's apprentice. Her whoop of joy shattered forty-eight neighborhood windows and her mother's best mirror.
'Ethelberthina's sisters would look quite natural in a pasture, chewing cud,' said Zoli. 'They take after their mother: No brains, but a baby-maker that works overtime. What's she up to? Seven kids?'
'Eight, and a ninth in progress.' Dean Porfirio made a few mystical gestures and created a white-hot ball of light that immediately vaporized the surrounding fog for the radius of a good spear-cast. 'Ah,
Zoli uttered a meaty curse. 'Oh, wonderful. We've blundered right
'Don't bother; we're too late already,' said Garth, pointing. The remaining mist had decided to move on before Dean Porfirio sizzled it into oblivion; the view across the Iron River was clear. From their vantage point on the Academy side, Ethelberthina's three friends saw the crowd of guests massed on the farther shore. Ethelberthina herself was already knee-deep, a crown of rosebuds perched at a tipsy angle on her head, her brand-new birthday dress kilted up between her legs but the long sky-blue cloak on her shoulders trailing heavily in the water. A plump, usually chipper child, she currently wore an expression popularized by dispirited captives everywhere. Behind her there hovered a large, obviously pregnant woman whose radiant smile more than made up for Ethelberthina's dejection.
'Stand up straight, dear!' the lady chirped. 'You'll get your gown wet otherwise.'
'Ah, Goodwife Eyebright,' Dean Porfirio murmured. 'But I don't see her husband anywhere.'
'You wouldn't; this isn't about him,' Garth said. 'When he's not the center of attention, he stays away.'
'Now are you certain you know all the words of the Prayer, darling?' Goodwife Eyebright went on.
'Yes, Mother.' Ethelberthina sounded weary.
'You're sure? You wouldn't want to humiliate me in front of all our relatives. I don't mind working and slaving to give birth to you, and to make you a lovely home, and to cook and sew and clean up after you with not one word of gratitude. A mother doesn't expect gratitude. But if you wouldn't mind too much, my precious, could you possibly avoid embarrassing me?'
'
'Don't you use that tone of voice to me, young lady! I
Garth looked at Zoli. 'Well, that explains that.'
'I'll say,' said Zoli. 'Poor child never had a chance. Who ever thought of motherhood as a deadly weapon?' It was a concept of startling novelty to a woman whose best defense had always been killing the other person first. 'We should be over there, standing by her in her hour of need, giving her a little moral support. And we would be, too, if a certain wizard I could mention wasn't such a baby.' She gave Dean Porfirio a significant look.
'You could always swim across,' the wizard responded coldly.
'Dressed like
'It's not every woman who can bear four children and still fit into her wedding-day garb, eh, Dean?' Garth preened as if the credit were all his.
'Impressive,' said a rough and rumbly voice that did not belong to Dean Porfirio. It came from just under the bridge and was followed by the sound of stone grating against stone as a squat, blocky shape came half-walking, half-rolling into view.
'Ah, good morning, Bursar Tailings,' said Dean Porfirio.
'Morning is never good to my kind,' the troll replied. 'Not unless it's cloudy with a chance of showers. Sunlight tends to turn our skin to stone and work its way inward from there.'
'It's nearly sunrise,' Garth said. 'What are you doing out-of-doors at this hour?'
'Ethnic weakness,' the bursar of Overford Academy replied in a voice that might be called gravelly and mean it. Like most trolls, he was short and not much bigger than a nail keg, with huge feet, a jutting jaw, and tusks. Unlike the normal run of his kinfolk, his flint-colored hair was neither shaggy nor unkempt, but carefully groomed and slicked back into a short braid. His complexion was granite gray, with a light stippling of acne or chisel marks. 'Every so often, we trolls just
Dean Porfirio drew his wand and tapped the bursar lightly on one shoulder. Magic was the only way to stop a determined troll in his tracks; otherwise a man might as well try to impede the progress of a runaway boulder. 'Just a moment, old man,' the wizard said. 'I'm confused, and I don't like it. What's this about a forced marriage?'
'Holy schist, do you mean you're the only person in town who
'He's one of three,' Garth said.
'Then free my feet and we can go back to the Academy for a nice hot cup of tar and I'll tell you all about it.'
Zoli squatted and gave the troll her finest this-will-hurt-much-more-if-you-move look. 'Save time; tell us now.'
'I
Dean Porfirio clicked his tongue. 'You won't turn to stone-not all at once-and nothing at all will happen to you if I lend you my cloak. Don't fuss over trifles.'
'That's all
'That wasn't very smart of you.'
'Show me the young creature, troll or human, who doesn't think he's immortal, that the rules don't apply to
'Looks like you'd best talk fast, then,' Zoli suggested.
The troll scowled at her so hard that rock dust trickled down his nose. 'Very well, I'll make it short and sweet. Unlike
'Took her long enough. Good for her! How'd she kill him?'
'Not
'Half a brain… that sums up most of this town,' Zoli mused.
Garth jabbed her to silence with his elbow. 'Why would any sane mother resent her own child?' he asked. 'And such a bright one, too!'
'I'll paint you a picture,' said the troll. 'All that Ethelberthina's ma could ever do with her life was marry and breed. Many a woman's happy keeping house, but only when it was her choice to go that road, not her last resort. Like you, ma'am.' He rolled his eyes at Zoli.
'I see,' the former swordsister said. 'Goodwife Eyebright
'Quite so.' The troll nodded. 'That's where this Maiden Morn claptrap comes in. You see, there's one bit of the ceremony not too many folk know of: The Answered Prayer.'