10: Pressure Points

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THE GREAT HALL – LATER

SERVANTS clear the feast tables under Surgev’s* watchful eye, gathering plates, bundling linens… 

 Twelve tattered pairs of shoes form a line before the throne.  A new COBBLER takes stock, works an abacus, tactfully hiding an anticipating smile.  Continue reading

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On Dragons and Damsels (and Power)

“Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

Then don’t gather power. And when you have it, disperse it, before it congeals.  Give power away to thousands, myriads, millions.  Give it away until everyone has it.  Create an eternal, perfectly balanced tug-of-war, so no power is ever absolute.

Too much power leads to corruption, but too little power feeds corruption in its den. Start with the weakest of the weak.  Don’t send the dragon a damsel whose cold comfort is being pure before she dies.  Give her a sword and tell her to cut deep. Continue reading

9: The Woman in the Woods

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EXT. THE GUTTER – NIGHT

Under a nearly full moon, Galen crosses the burning place.  Smoking fires blot the sky.  Beggars huddle two or three to a blanket.  An OLD MAN and sunken-eyed BOY drag detritus to make a lean-to.

The straw pack sits by the tree line.  Galen considers it, pulls at his hair.

 

EXT. THE FOREST – CONTINUOUS

Dressed as Gremett, Galen starts up a dirt path.

The moonlight cuts lines in the dark to see by.  He walks a ridge, passes a clearing, a clover patch, a brook…

His eyelids droop.  He shakes himself awake, looks ahead.

A small OLD WOMAN with sun-browned skin stands on the path.  She’s ancient and wrinkled, maternal, dressed and crowned in ferns.

They stare at each other.

 

GALEN

You’re…

 

She shuffles forward, smiles, leans side to side to look at him.

 

GALEN (CONT’D)

(relieved) …not Baba Yaga, I see.

 

She shakes her head and pats his hand, examines and pokes at his clothes…

 

GALEN (CONT’D)

I’m no one important. Are you…?

 

…his wide hat…

 

GALEN (CONT’D)

(speaking and signing) Are you mute?  I know someone mute.  We can find a way to talk.

 

She smiles agreeably — then steals his hat.  She bolts off down the path.

 

GALEN (CONT’D)

Hey!

 

She’s leaps and runs.  He rushes after, throwing aside briars and ferns, but she’s faster, nimbler, outpacing him.

 

GALEN (CONT’D)

Wait!  I’m not angry, just…

 

She leaps up a slope.  He stumbles after.  A ridge over a hollow…

 

GALEN (CONT’D)

I’d like your help.

 

She leaps to the left.  He follows — and tumbles down a steep ferny cliff.

Splash.

Galen moans, catches his breath, pushes himself up.  He’s half landed in a pond. 

The pond.

A wedge of moonlight paints the blocked stone door.  He stares, stands, shakes off water, looks around — No woman, no hat — then back at the door.

Slosh.  Galen hikes up his robes and crosses the pond, straw clothes left at the shore.  He glances at shadows.

 He climbs, sits on the rubble, studies the mark, pries an immovable rock, scratches at the moss on the lintel, frowns at the result.

 INSERT:  Crude Glagolitic text, a name: Ища

 

GALEN (CONT’D)

“Isha…” something.

 

He shakes his head, traces the empty oval, looks up:  At the towering ruin of an overgrown palace.

A rustling:  The woman stands on the far shore, holding his hat.  She beckons, then darts right away.

 

GALEN (CONT’D)

Please, wait!

 

THE FOREST

Ferns, trees, ferns — a cobbled slope.  He tumbles again into —

A crêpe sea?  It’s piled around him, pale red and brittle.

A CASTLE RUIN

Decrepit walls stand along the embankment.

Galen picks at the material, runs his finger along… scales.

 

GALEN (CONT’D)

Dragon skin? (searching) What is this place?

 

A thought.  He holds a hand behind the skin and it vanishes.  He pulls it back whole, then smiles.

 Rustling:  The woman, up on a ledge.  Galen drops the skin, wades out to meet her.

 

GALEN (CONT’D)

(signing) Thank you.  What’s your name?

She reverses the gesture.

 

GALEN (CONT’D)

Mine?  I’m…

 

He tugs his hair.  She cranes left to see; he turns to hide it.

 

GALEN (CONT’D)

…no one.

 

She’s annoyed.  She opens a hand.  He reaches for it, but suddenly she touches his forehead.

Flash.

 

[THE VISION]

The endless meadow disintegrating, swallowed up by a void.

Flash.

[END VISION]

 

THE CASTLE RUIN

Galen stumbles back, eyes wide in shock.  The woman lowers her hand.

 

GALEN (CONT’D)

You’ve seen it too?

 

The reverse gesture again:  His name?

He hesitates.

 

GALEN (CONT’D)

I’m called Gremett here.

 

She shakes her head, snaps her fingers and vanishes — like magic.

 

EXT./INT. STOLIST PALACE – DAYBREAK

Pavel sits up in bed, nursing his head, crosses to the table.

The shutter opens.  Galen climbs in, clutching a scaled parcel, distraught, his hair loose.

 

PAVEL

Hey, watch the sheets.  What happened to your hair?

 

GALEN

I lost my hat.  I can’t risk being recognized.

 

PAVEL

What are you doing back already?

 

GALEN

“Already”?

 

He shakes out a length of hemmed dragon skin. Pavel opens the shutters again — blinks at sunbeams.

 

PAVEL (CONT’D)

Impossible.

 

GALEN

What happened?

 

PAVEL

I closed my eyes for a second…  Gods above and below, I think you smell worse now.

 

The flowers stand withered.  Galen drapes the skin one his arm, picks up the cup and sniffs it.  He wrinkles his nose.

 

GALEN

Valerian root.

 

PAVEL

What?

 

GALEN

I couldn’t smell it last night, but I know the flowers.  Your wine was spiked with valerian root.  In pure tinctures, it’s putrid, but in strong wine…

 

He passes the glass.  Pavel sniffs it, balks.

 

PAVEL

You mean I was drugged?

 

GALEN

Yes.

 

PAVEL

By Princess Helga?

 

GALEN

Maybe.

 

PAVEL

“Maybe?”  How about “Yes”?  (re: the scales) What is that thing?

 

GALEN

The rare and most helpful “bronya zmei”

 

PAVEL

“serpent scales”?

 

GALEN

Worth more than gold.

 

PAVEL

Why…?

 

Galen bends to stuff it beneath the bed, turns at a knock and jangling keys.

 

PAVEL (CONT’D)

Down.

 

Galen ducks under the bed, rolls into the cloak — instantly invisible.

 

PAVEL (CONT’D)

(voiceless) Oh…

 

The servants enter, bowing, keys ready.  Pavel follows them to the doors, leans an ear as bolts slide.

 DOORS:  Girls chattering, muffled.

 Pavel checks the window again.  No one outside.  He bolts the shutters with a snap.

 The guards line up in the hall.  Medved glowers and Pavel frowns as bedroom doors slam open.

 

HELGA

Servant?

 

Helga storms out and both servants bow.

Pavel cranes to look in.  The other princesses seem fast asleep in bed.  A rocking chair still wobbles like Helga’s just left it.

 INSERT: The blank wall, lined with wasted shoes and laces.

 

SERVANT #1 (O.S.)

Milady…

 

HELGA

(holding up something) Explain this.

 

Tattered shoes swing by their laces.

photo


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Images by Pixabay & Unsplash

 

Language Notes –  Ища is not “Isha” but “Ishcha”

  • The “s” sound and its combinations in roman letters tend to have their own letter in Russian Cyrillic.  Even “s” is depicted as a “c”-like letter.
  • The letter “щ” is actually closer to “shch” than “sh,” though it’s less clunky transliterated as “sch” or “sh.”  For the latter,  the square-double-u letter “ш” is more accurate).  I’ve heard the pronunciation of “щ” described best as the sound in the middle of “fresh cheese.”
  • As for “bronya zmei,” (броня змеи), it literally translates to “snake armor,” as best I can render the masculine genitive case with so little tutelage.  It’s important later.

Study Notes – The Magical Helper

  • According to Vladimir Propp, the Magical Helper (or “Donor”) is a common staple in Russian Fairy Tales.  I’ve mentioned before that I’m impressed that in Russian fairy tales especially, the hero is not the end-all accomplisher of his tasks.  Often only the villain is so solitary, while the hero is companionable and simple.  The “Donor” appears either once as a kind of deus ex machina to offer magical devices, or multiple times as a kind of caretaker checking in.
  • In some versions of The Midnight Dance, the donor of the invisibility cloak is St. Peter, in others St. Nikolas, and still others a mysterious crippled man or elderly woman.  The help can come after much duress, or at the start of the adventure with a simple request.  Generally, outside the wicked sorcery afoot, this is the only magic involved in the story.

Study Notes – An Old New Story

  • The presence of saints in Russian fairy tales is common, but many of these stories have roots older than Christianity:  St. Nikolas or St. Basil stand in often for tricksters like Veles, the duplicitous god of dew and, to some extent, mortal souls.  Elijah or John the Baptist (called Ivana Kulapa in Russian) take the part of his rival, the Thunderer.
  • Much like the fable of the wind and the sun, Elijah and John are presented as strict and vengeful, ready to punish iniquity, and Nikolas is by contrast patient and understanding (as in this story of the two saints and a certain moujik).  The original opposition seems centered around different types of precipitation, but that topic is more skillfully presented by another blogger in this and other articles he’s written.

 

8: Stake Out

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EXT. THE ANTECHAMBER WINDOW

Tap-tap:  Pebbles, flung up from the garden below.

INT. THE ANTECHAMBER – SAME TIME

Pavel opens the shutters, pulls Galen over the sill:  He’s in blue robes again, ivy tangled on one foot, straw in his hair. Continue reading

6: Smalltalk

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EXT. / INT. STOLIST PALACE – NIGHT

A CORRIDOR – SOON AFTER

A water clock bobs the tenth hour. 

Pavel watches the room from a doorway, tugs at his tight collar, then fights his hands not to.  He fidgets, pulls out a worn deck of cards.  His eyes slide back and forth:  Princesses.  Boyars.  Princesses…  Musicians, servants, attendants… 

Note:  No women servants.

He sighs.

Skipping steps rush past in bright blue:  The princess from the mountain tucks her doll behind her back and turns, smiling unafraid.  

 

PRINCESS

(sweetly) Keep up, Captain!

 

A breathless clatter: Then the two soldiers from earlier, plus FOUR (ND).

 

BLUE CAPTAIN

Princess, you mustn’t outstrip your guards.

 

PRINCESS

Captain Walsh, surely I must enjoy my father’s ball, being a princess and all.

 

BLUE CAPTAIN / WALSH

Apologies, milord…

 

PAVEL

Not at all, captain.  We haven’t met, princess…?

 

PRINCESS

Melina.

 

She sticks out a dainty hand.

 

PRINCESS / MELINA (CONT’D)

Will you kiss it?

 

PAVEL

Should I?

 

WALSH

If you’ll suffer her highness…

 

MELINA

Oh, I do hope you don’t suffer for me.

 

PAVEL

I’m the ambassador from Dolina, your highness, Lord Pavel Ilmenov.

 

Pavel bows and kisses her hand, and she grins.

 

MELINA

May I call you “Pasha”?

 

PAVEL

That’s rather familiar, isn’t it?

 

MELINA

I’m only asking. (re: the cards) What are those?

 

PAVEL

Tricks.

 

MELINA

I thought you were an ambassador, not a Fool.

 

PAVEL

As you like, your highness.

 

MELINA

I like a Fool then!

 

Pavel laughs.

 

MELINA (CONT’D)

I want a story.

 

He cuts the cards and draws one: Queen of Diamonds.

 

PAVEL

You know who this is?

 

MELINA

Zorya.  I’ll bet I can find Nevesta…

 

She plucks out the Queen of Hearts.  Pavel laughs, impressed.

 

MELINA (CONT’D)

Most Fools do this one next, to say, “Follow love, not treasure.”  But I like the Queen of Clubs…

 

She plucks it out and spins it.  Pavel grins, impressed.

 

MELINA (CONT’D)

Annamatka:  She’s a clever friend, the Earth, very wise.

 

She leans in.

 

MELINA (CONT’D)

(mock whisper) Don’t draw Spades. That’s Baba Yaga.

 

PAVEL

Who taught you that?

 

MELINA

My mother.

 

PAVEL

(bemused) Mine too.

 

MELINA

She gave me my doll too, for protection.

 

She shamelessly pulls a string necklace from his collar: a flat, triangle pendant dangles; the top two corners have extended lines.

 

MELINA (CONT’D)

That’s the God of Souls, Baba Yaga’s brother.  He’s good against her.  Family’s the best protection.

 

PAVEL

Thank you for your reassurance, princess.

 

MELINA

Oh, I don’t approve of being called “princess.”

 

WALSH

Your highness…

 

MELINA

(firm) On account of all my sisters, captain.  It makes me feel lonely.  My father calls me “Melinka.”

 

PAVEL

Being an ambassador’s a very formal duty, princess.

 

MELINA

I like you as a Fool.  Now you just have to make my eleven sisters like you. In only three nights, even.

 

PAVEL

You know about that?

 

MELINA

(innocently) Were you staying longer than the three-day Jubilee?

 

She skips off; the guards catch up rattling.  Pavel smiles a little, perplexed, looks across to the garden doorway —

He frowns at a vanishing tail of white.

 

EXT. THE PALACE GARDEN – CONTINUOUS (NIGHT)

Up on the wall, soldiers watch the night.

Pavel takes a shadowy path near topiaries, hanging flowers, climbing ivy, a well.  He glances up at a window, tests the ivy with a satisfied tug:  Sturdy.

He finds a gate with an iron latch, leans back on it, twitches.

Clank.  He walks on; the latch loose behind him.

At a trellis of hanging flowers, he rests in shadow, tugs his collar.

 

PAVEL

(to himself) I’m sorry.

 

HELGA (O.S.)

I told you, no.

 

Pavel ducks behind a hedge, looks to —

A fountain and garden patch.  In criss-crossed shadow, Beliya stands with the young man from the gate.  Helga uproots pinkish white flowers, annoyed.

 

BELIYA

There is a chance he’d be suitable…

 

HELGA

I don’t like to repeat myself.

 

She rises, whips out a kerchief, wraps the plant stems in a practiced way.

 

YOUNG MAN

Helga…

 

HELGA

(angrily) Don’t be so familiar.  Stolist is a golden dung heap.  It attracts vermin. (composing herself) You ever talk to me again and you’ll be sure the king will know.

 

A clamor:  Medved and company rush the garden.  Pavel throws himself flat. 

 A GUARD grabs Beliya’s arm.  Another holds a spear between Helga and the young man.

 

MEDVED

Princess, when did you slip off?

 

HELGA

Sometime you were guarding the wine casket, captain.  I needed air, and flowers for the antechamber.

 

She takes up her place in formation.

 

HELGA

I’ll be going inside.

 

MEDVED

(to Beliya) You know the king’s rules, Lord Beliya.  We won’t warn you nicely again.

 

HELGA

I said, I’ll be going inside, captain.

 

MEDVED

You know your father’s orders.

 

HELGA

Yes.  I do.  Now follow them.

 

She sweeps back inside, forcing them to follow.  The boyar grabs the young man by the arm and drags him limping after.

 Pavel frowns.

 

PAVEL

And that’s something.

photo


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Images by Pixabay & Unsplash

 

Character Notes: Foils

  • Foils—not just for recycling anymore!   In traditional and modern storytelling alike, foils contrast the main character’s values or outlook with those of others; as opposed to animae / animi, who embody values characters need to develop for themselves.  Of course, the two categories can overlap.  The difference is that one emphasizes difference while the other motivates change.
  • It’s also possible to have characters who share the starring role act as foils for one another—a typical tool for buddy road-trip movies and even a few romances where the relationship isn’t the main goal.  The characters don’t necessarily have to be in conflict with one another, but they should be approaching the same problem in a different way.

Story Notes: The Fools

  • Playing cards were, I’ve mentioned in another post, not invented as we know them until around the 15th or 16th Centuries, but I like the thought of Fools deliberately notching their decks so they can tell stories via archetypes. (A small tribute to Slavic mythology and also C.G. Jung.)
  • My Fools are based loosely off the Skomorokh, a persecuted group of masked festival clowns and puppeteers in Russia in and likely before the 11th Century.  While Christian leadership chronicled them as the devil’s servants for snubbing order and authority, they survived for centuries as a necessary safety valve to let off social steam at festivals.
  • At first, I took the word Skomorokh in A Queen’s Ransom to name my enchanted forest. The idea was that it was so dangerous, only a “Fool” would venture in because they were neutral parties and wouldn’t be attacked.  However, the idea has since grown into its own culture in this fairy tale world.  I hope to explore them more in depth in future stories.

5: The Interviews

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EXT./INT. STOLIST PALACE – NIGHT

THE GREAT HALL

An opulent feast.  Lords and ladies and tradesmen crowd tables and socialize. 

THE PALACE WALLS

Along a wall-walk, grim-faced SOLDIERS pace on lookout.

THE MAIN GATE

Lords and merchants enter.  Beggars crowd the high road, fall back as GATEKEEPERS brandish spears.

 

GALEN (O.S.)

(singing) “I’ve no treasure in this world / as golden as the Dawn…”

 

Galen stands back, watching.

 

GALEN (CONT’D)

(singing) “…and She is gold for all, / even the pauper’s son.”

 

A BEGGAR

Alms, sirs?

 

A few merchants sneer.  Some BOYARS in tall hats dig in pockets. 

 One pale-haired, white-capped YOUNG MAN watches Galen.

 

GALEN

(singing) “To all your fields and gardens, / good, sirs, She prays true…

 

The young man tosses a silver coin —

 

GALEN (CONT’D)

(catching; spoken) Thank you, good sir.

 

— and limps inside.

 

GALEN (CONT’D)

(singing) To her Father, the Thunder, / and her lover the Dew.”

 

INSERT: The coin:  A raised image of Bald Mountain.

 THE GREAT HALL

Color-coordinated sets of soldiers (CAPTAINS and GUARDS (ND)) attend Helga and TEN other PRINCESSES.  Smiles are rare and polite.

Opposite, BOYARS and LADIES dance, feast, and socialize.  Lone lords glower through beards, and pairs whisper.  ATTENDANTS float trays of wine here and there, interrupting.

Pavel crosses the room, watching everything.  He plucks a glass off one tray, sets it down on another.

 

INTERCUT – PRINCESSES

Interviews:  Guards noticeable throughout:

–Twins, ILYA AND INNA (15), in green, share dessert.

 

PAVEL

Do you sleep well here?

 

ILYA

Like a log.

 

INNA

If a log snored.

 

ILYA

Like a log being sawed at.

 

INNA

That’s a good one.

 

ILYA

(to Pavel) It’s a creepy question, you know.

 

–ANNA (19), in red, sits wringing a folding fan:

 

ANNA

Oh, I don’t like dancing.  I get… dizzy.  I don’t like talking much either.  I really don’t like parties.  I just…  Ahem.

 

She falls quiet.

–EKATERINA (16), in black, turns a page of poetry:

 

EKATERINA

I imagine a dozen or so people here hate my father.  But you can’t control people. (beat) To be honest, maybe two dozen.

 

PAVEL

Your book is upside-down.

 

EKATERINA

I know.

 

–DINARA (18), in yellow, skins grapes with a dangerous fingernail:

 

DINARA

Oh, they’re the king’s guards, not mine.  Why don’t you have any, ambassador?

 

–ETNA (17) and ILYA (18) dance indifferently:

 

ETNA

What do you care about our sleeping arrangements, your lordship?

 

PAVEL

I’m not…

 

ENYA

(to Etna) Let’s have at the servants for gossiping.

 

ETNA

Let’s.

 

They flounce off to where three siblings (MINT, 22; PEACH, 21; and LILAC, 20) politely socialize.  All cluster and whisper with pointedly looks.

 

PAVEL

Well, that’s that.

 

 

ACROSS THE ROOM

Helga dances with the king.

 

HELGA

The rest were dogs.  I don’t see why he wouldn’t be.

 

TUGARIN

But I like this one.

 

HELGA

Then don’t kill him and maybe we can be friends.

 

TUGARIN

You could just tell me why your shoes are wearing out overnight.

 

HELGA

I told you, I don’t know.

 

Tugarin catches Pavel’s eye, nods towards a knot of boyars.  Pavel bows in acknowledgement.

 

INTERCUT – BOYARS

All between 30 and 60, in Technicolor.  We won’t see most again, but they’re clothes are just-noticeably worn:

–GREEN (30s), picks at cold cuts:

 

PAVEL (O.S.)

You specialize in…?

 

GREEN

Leather.  It’s the drought.

 

PAVEL

Pardon?

 

GREEN

(around a bite) Used to be cattle.

 

–MALEN ZNAKOV (40s), in blue, towels his hands on a tablecloth:

 

ZNAKOV (30s)

(shameless) Well, they’re mine anyway.  I’m in the dyeing business, you see.

 

PAVEL

You’re an… undertaker, Lord Znakov?

 

Znakov laughs.

 

ZNAKOV

Dyeing, Lord Ilmenov.

 

He shows blue fingertips.

 

ZNAKOV (CONT’D)

A bit of black humor, is all.  It’s how I cope.  Things have been rather horrid, haven’t they, what with the…?

 

–RED (40s), nervous:

 

RED

…drought?  It’s catching up to our borders, I think.

 

He fingers a fraying sleeve.

 

PAVEL

I imagine the tariffs are a bit high these days?

 

RED

Not at all.  Me and mine are more worried by the…

 

–YELLOW (late 50s), death glare, spearing raisins on a pick:

 

YELLOW

…war, to be honest.  Be glad you don’t have one.

 

PAVEL

You’re at war?

 

YELLOW

Tsar Xing, our eastern neighbor.  Thousands of your young men out there — My son, too, in fact.

 

PAVEL

How long has that been?

 

YELLOW

Some, well…

 

–VIOLET (40s) and PINK (40s), brothers, take turns:

 

VIOLET

…nine years…

 

PINK

Nine, it is…

 

VIOLET

…next month to the day.

 

PAVEL

Nine years?

 

VIOLET

Our boys work one province back from the front line at the carpentry —

 

PINK

Siegeworks, that is.

 

VIOLET

— and mine’s got a wife now.

 

PINK

We send care packages.

 

VIOLET

Books, herbs, blankets, and…

 

–LORD BELIYA (50s), stone-faced.

 

BELIYA

…shoes.

 

He’s white-trimmed, somehow sober.

 

PAVEL

Shoes, Lord Beliya?

 

Beliya empties his wine glass.

 

BELIYA

Good shoes make all the difference for a soldier up to his knees in corpses and mud.

 

He trades glasses from a fresh tray.

 

PAVEL

If you don’t mind my asking, milord, how did the war start?

 

BELIYA

It was almost an alliance.  But our Helga — (pained, angry) the crown princess — she was thirteen.  The Tsar of Xing has no sons and too many wives.  You don’t need me to finish?

 

Another glass.

 

PAVEL

No.

 

BELIYA

Good man.  Not that she wasn’t unwilling.  She’s selfless, our Helga.  Any of your own?

 

PAVEL

I’m sorry, milord?

 

BELIYA

Children?

 

PAVEL

No, I’m not married.  It’s the work.

 

BELIYA

Find time.  And don’t lose a minute.

 

He drops off the emptied glass and walks straight towards the gardens exit.

 

PAVEL

Now that is interesting.

photo by Luke Besley


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Images by Pixabay & Unsplash

 

Language Notes:  Red Stains for Blue

  • Actually, if this were written in Russian, Lord Znakov’s pun would probably have been more along the lines of often being caught “blue-handed” as a pun on “red-handed,” but a more clever pun is available with some acrobatic linguistics:
  • In Russian, both to dye (краситель / krasetiel) and the color red (красный / krasnih) are related to the stem for beautiful (краса / krasa).  As a side-note, red was related to gold in that each was a semi-sacred, a symbol of riches and, on occasion, the Underworld, where gold is plentiful.  In any case, Znakov probably would have gotten a few eye-rolls for making “kras” jokes.  (I’m sure that pun just did.)

Character Notes:

  • Fun fact: As readers of A Queen’s Ransom might recall, Galen wasn’t always a good singer—not that he’d admit it.

Story Notes:

  • So that’s most of our suspects, but the party’s not over yet! Some adaptations of this fairy tale cut down the number of princesses for simplicity’s sake, but, imho, nothing spoils a whodunit like cutting the cast and giving one person male pattern baldness.  I’d add a link at this point, but it’d have to be to pretty much all movie posters… ever.
  • On that note, the war with Xing (a proto-China vagarity) is my addition. In many stories, an added mystery is that the princesses all sleep ‘til noon, which always seemed odd to me given the supernatural nature of that situation.  In most versions, either the eldest or youngest daughter is a cut above the rest for good or ill, so Helga’s an early bird.

Song of the Post

 I’ve no treasure in this world
as golden as the Dawn,
and She is gold for all,
even the pauper’s son.
To all your fields and gardens,
good, sirs, She prays true
To her Father, the Thunder
and her lover the Dew.”