The Black Swan (36 page)

Why she was afraid, for one thing—why she had insisted that he leave, for another. If someone out there intended to catch a prince, he would want to bait his trap temptingly, and make sure that he had firm control over the bait. What firmer control could there be than control over the very form his bait took?

Now he felt his neck grow warm with embarrassment; could he have been so foolish as to walk straight into such a trap?

But if there is such a sorcerer, he cannot control how the bait feels about her role.
If Odette had been in accord with this postulated enemy, she would have painted him a tragic tale of captivity and begged him to save her from it. Wouldn't she?

He tried to remember the nuances of her expression, and could only recall the beauty of her eyes, of her slim, delicate hands, of the slender body imperfectly concealed by her white, silk gown.

He was lost in these reflections when Benno returned, preceded by the sound of cracking brush and kicked-up leaves, striding through the brush with no more attempt to hide himself than Siegfried.

“Nothing and nothing,” he cried, disappointment clear in his voice. “Not a swan, not a goose, not even a feather. I did find at least one source of the lake, though—that was why I turned back. It's fed by a river, and I didn't fancy trying to cross it afoot and in the dark.”

“I had no better luck than you,” the prince replied, but with a signal of hand and eyebrow to tell his friend that there was more, much more to it than he was willing to speak of before the servants.

Benno gave a quick nod, then suggested that they all return to the inn, since there was no luck out here for them on this night.

The servants—who would be returning to camp rather than the inn, but could expect several rounds of drink from their prince by way of reward for their service—gathered up their extinguished torches and thrust them into the fire without waiting to hear what Siegfried said. But Siegfried was quite ready to leave; with his mind unsettled and his heart fluttering, he wanted to talk with his oldest and most trusted friend in private. He didn't trust himself to make any conclusions or decisions at this point.

It took longer than he liked to walk back to the village; he wanted very badly to spill out his heart to Benno, and from the sidelong glances that Benno cast at
him,
curiosity was eating his friend alive. The servants kept their pace to a swift walk just short of a lope, no doubt thinking of the good beer waiting for them in the inn, so he had nothing to complain of there, at least.

When the lights of the village appeared ahead of them, he stretched his legs a bit farther, forcing the servants to do the same; he heard a bit of muttering, but knew that they wouldn't dare to complain aloud. If they wondered why he was so anxious to get back himself, they would probably consider his reputation and the way that the village girls flirted with him, and make up an answer to suit themselves.

He was first through the door of the inn, for the servants paused to douse their torches in a bucket of water placed to one side of the door for that purpose. Warmth and the pleasant scent of roasted meat met him as he opened the door and crossed the threshold.

As always in a small tavern, every head turned to see who it was who had just entered. “Keeper!” he called. “We've had a frustrating night of it—beer and sausage for my men, and wine for me and my friends! And bring me something to eat; use your best judgment!”

He scarcely paused to acknowledge the bows of the patrons, hurrying up the stairs to his room, with Benno hot on his heels. As he'd expected, Wolfgang was already asleep in his own little cubby, overcome by his own overindulgence. Arno started up as he entered his chambers, but Siegfried waved him off.

“Go fetch the wine and food from the innkeeper, then go to bed,” Siegfried ordered. “I can manage for myself for once.”

“Sire.” Arno paused long enough for a perfunctory bow, and took himself off. Siegfried dropped into a chair at the fireside table, and Benno did the same, but leaned forward over his crossed arms, looking at him with eyes wild with excitement.

“Something happened out there!” he half whispered. “Something that has
you
in a state! You have to tell me what it was, or I'm going to go mad!”

Siegfried nodded, but put his finger to his lips. “Not now; as soon as we're private,” he cautioned, then quickly switched the topic to the unsuccessful hunt, declaring out loud as Arno led a trio of inn servants up the stairs that he had never seen a lake so barren of game or the least signs of game.

Arno knew his master's moods and knew when it was wise to leave him alone. Without a word to Siegfried, he quickly and efficiently directed the serving girls in the placement of dishes and tankards, then shooed them out without allowing them so much as a flirtatious glance, following them and closing the door behind him.

Siegfried took his time in cutting slices of chicken he didn't want and pouring wine that he did. Benno looked ready to burst, but he took his time in drinking down a full goblet and pouring another before he began.

“I found the swans,” he said abruptly.

“And?” Benno's voice rose in pitch with indignation. “You didn't chase everyone else out just to tell me that you found the swans and missed your shots or discovered you couldn't shoot them!”

“Well—partly. I found them, and I couldn't shoot them—because they weren't
just
swans.” Choosing his words with care, he told Benno everything that had transpired; it wasn't difficult, for every moment was etched into his memory so clearly that he doubted he could ever forget it. Benno forgot his meal, forgot his wine, forgot everything as he leaned over the table to fix Siegfried with an unwavering gaze. Siegfried found the look in his eyes a bit disquieting, however, since there was as much alarm as excitement in it.

When he finished, he downed another goblet of wine and poured himself a third, feeling very much in need of it. Benno didn't touch his and finally leaned back and toyed with the chicken on his plate, frowning.

“I don't like it, Siegfried,” he said, his frown deepening. “I don't like it at all. This smacks of witchcraft, black magic—you shouldn't go back there tomorrow night.”

“I know it's dangerous—” Siegfried began dismissively. Benno interrupted. “It isn't the danger to your
body
I'm worried about, it's the danger to your soul!” he countered. “What possible good could this do for you? If you just want a girl to bed, there's plenty right here in the village; why go chasing after some fey half-swan half-woman? There's something very nasty about all this, and I don't trust any of it, not one bit!”

Siegfried laughed incredulously, for this was not what he had expected to hear from Benno. “That's a fine statement, coming from
you!
Have you suddenly turned priest on me, to be so concerned about my soul? I thought
you
were the one who always wanted to see magic at work with your own eyes!”

But Benno was not to be deterred by mockery. He leaned forward over the table, his meal forgotten again. “Siegfried, I'm serious. I don't trust any of this. It's too much like a trap, and the only thing I can think of is that somebody wants your soul or worse, if that's possible.” He shook his head vigorously as Siegfried started to laugh. “Look here, friend, I'm trying to think in a responsible way! This could be an attempt on your land! What if some enemy wants to take you captive, or even kill you? What if this is a plot to keep you from choosing a bride? What if—”

“What if, what if, what if!” Siegfried exclaimed, all of his own concerns vanishing in a sullen anger at his best friend's apparent betrayal. Why was Benno the doubter all of a sudden? What was Benno risking? Nothing! This was Siegfried's adventure to pursue or not, and Benno's cautions only made him more determined to meet Odette tomorrow night. “What if the sky falls? What if I were to die in my sleep? If anyone wanted to interfere with me, they've chosen an awfully roundabout way of getting to me—anyone able to turn girls into swans could just as easily turn
me
into a wild boar when we're out hunting!”

“Well, what if that's what they plan?” Benno asked stubbornly. “Witches need your hair or something in order to cast a spell on you, and maybe this swan-maiden is supposed to snatch some of your hair for just that purpose!”

“Then I'll take my chances,” the prince replied, beginning to feel more exasperated than angry. So Benno was worried about him and wanted to wet-nurse him; fine, maybe all this business of picking a bride had begun to wear on both of them. “Come, be of some help, Benno! Have
you
ever heard of anything like this in your life? If I had not been standing on my feet, I would have been certain I was dreaming!”

“Well—other than children turned into gingerbread by a wicked witch, no,” Benno said darkly. “Or men into pigs, by the enchantress Circe. And I think you're being foolish to make a joke about it.”

Siegfried closed his eyes for a moment, summoning patience. “You didn't see Odette,” he finally said quietly. “I have never seen another woman to compare to her, and if I had to fight my way through a hundred Circes to get to her side, I would do it.”

He opened his eyes again to see Benno staring at him, slack-jawed with amazement.

“If I didn't know better,” Benno finally managed. “I would say that you sounded as if you were—enamored.”

“Enamored?” Siegfried lifted one corner of his mouth in a lopsided smile. “Don't you mean lovesick?”

Benno frowned fiercely, his eyes clouding with anger. “Dammit, Siegfried, this is
not
funny! You're acting as if you're already under an enchantment! Are you sure this woman didn't get some of your hair? Or did she get you to look into a mirror, or something?”

He stifled the urge to tell Benno that he was under the enchantment of Odette's eyes, and held his tongue. “No hair, no mirror, and at this point if you were to ask me if I had fallen in love with Odette the moment I saw her, I would have to admit to it. So, what do you think I should do? And don't tell me not to go out there tomorrow night, because that is
not
an option. I would like some advice, though.”

“You let
me
look the place over tomorrow in the daylight, and you let me come with you tomorrow night,” Benno replied immediately. “If I can't make you see sense, I can at least try to protect you—from yourself, if not from this woman.”

The notion of Benno trying to protect
him
was ludicrous, but Siegfried nobly refrained from laughing at him. “All right,” he agreed. “I can't see any objections to either. She didn't tell me to come alone, and if there are two of us, she might be a little more forthcoming about herself and why she's here. Who knows? With you along, she might look different to me. I doubt it, but there's always a chance.”

Benno's snort showed what he thought of that statement. He made no other comment, but drank down his wine in a single gulp and held out his goblet for Siegfried to refill. The prince did so, and now found that the appetite he thought had deserted him was back with a vengeance. He attacked his chicken ravenously, while Benno watched.

“If this paragon of yours can convince
me
that she's no witch, I promise I'll leave you alone together,” he finally said, though he looked as if the words had been wrung from him unwillingly. “But I warn you, it's going to take a great deal of convincing.”

The prince pushed his plate away, taking only a soft roll to play with, pulling bits of bread from it and rolling them into little pills that he piled on the plate. “If you can manage to clear your mind of your suspicions for a moment, can you think of anything that might help, here?” he asked, trying not to show his own impatience.

Benno shook his head, but his irritation softened. “Look, Siegfried, I know that what you want to hear from me is—‘go ahead, my friend, she sounds like just the woman for you! Woo her, win her, and carry her off to your castle!' And I—I would love to tell you just that, but it isn't that simple. We're
not
in a tale. You know yourself that you have duties and obligations to your mother and to your kingdom, and I never thought that I would be the one to have to remind you of them! Just because a woman's a half-magic creature, that doesn't mean she's a fit bride for you or will be a fit queen when you're king. You don't even know her rank. What if she's a peasant? I know that you'll say it doesn't matter, but it
will
matter to Queen Clothilde, and it
will
matter to the fathers of the girls you reject in favor of her. I feel as if I'm betraying you in some way—” he sighed, “—but I know I would be betraying you in a worse way if I didn't play devil's advocate right now. You always tell me that you need me as a friend because I tell you the truth, and I'm trying to tell you the truth now.”

Siegfried's irritation melted. “Just—promise to keep your mind open to every possibility,” he said at last. “That's all I can ask of you.”

Benno drank his wine, and set the empty goblet on the table. “I can promise that,” he replied with a nod. “I can definitely promise that—if
you
promise to listen to me when I give you advice.”

“I will promise to listen,” the prince responded.

But in his thoughts were other words.
I will promise to listen to your advice—but I won't promise to act on it.