As soon as he thought of a well, it suddenly appeared in the meadow, as if from under the ground.
As Brendan approached the well, he noticed that the entire well was covered in mud. Even the bucket had turned green from the mud.
Brendan wanted to pass by, but a scaly green tentacle suddenly deftly coiled itself around his neck and drew him to the well.
Who would have thought the serpent on the blockhouse would be alive!
«Excuse me, I didnt mean to touch anything!» Brendan hoped that the well guard, like the scarecrow in the field, understood human speech. Though at the sight of someone hissing and dragon-faced, there was little hope of that. «I am not a thief by any means! I had no ill intentions toward your well, that is, the house in which you reside. I was only curious to take a look.»
Brendan justified himself as best he could, hoping the creature would understand him. He might as well have hoped that the well serpent had an excellent grasp of the sciences and court etiquette.
«I was only passing through.»
«Are you passing?» The serpent squinted. His tail, which had already half strangled Brendan, suddenly loosened its grip.
«No one passes my well without guessing the riddle.»
In the snakes hiss, human speech was barely audible.
Brendan could barely catch his breath when the serpent let him go. A necklace of bruises was left on his neck. But the poisonous saliva of the serpent, which dripped on his skin, gave him burns.
If I dont guess the riddle, will you eat me or burn me? Brendan grimaced. He was no good at guessing riddles.
«If you guess it, Ill let you go ahead,» he hissed with a sly tone. «But it will be better for you if you dont. Then I have the right to keep you out of the castle.»
«There isnt a castle,» Brendan said indignantly. «Its an empty horizon.»
Even if the serpent didnt eat him, going back to the enchanted fields was worse than going to hell. The mystery of the serpent would have to be solved.
«Well, lets get to it! Or will you buy me a nice glass of Aluar wine before the riddle? Do you have any clean water left in your well?»
The serpent was clearly offended. Hed obviously thought the well, overgrown with slime, was very clean. Now it was clear that the green traces on the well, is poisonous saliva of the snake. It turned the whole well green. The snakes skin was the same color, bright emerald. Youd think he himself had crawled out of some fabulous treasure trove, not a rotten well.
«Listen carefully, boy! I will not say it again!» The serpents bright yellow eyes flashed slyly. Their gaze was slightly hypnotizing. A powerful emerald tail tightly enveloped the log of the well.
«She is beautiful and delicate, like the rose of May, and she is the same, prickly as the thorns of a rose. When you see her, you almost fall in love. It is almost, but not quite. It is because there is one small obstacle to falling in love completely. If you touch her, youll immediately hurt yourself, like you hurt yourself on the rose thorns. Who is she? Tell me her name!»
«Is it her name? I am not acquainted with such a lady.»
«You may not call her by name, but by her title.»
Brendan scratched at the back of his head. A dead end! It was just as he supposed. He was no good at riddles.
«Do I have an hour to think about it?»
«Youre such a slowcoach!» The serpent was almost triumphant, feeling his victory.
«Im not a magical creature like you. I cant think instantly,» Brendan snapped at him.
«You people are all so weak and feeble and stupid,» the serpent chided him triumphantly. «Well, at least youre not rude, unlike the rest of the strangers. So Ill give you five minutes.»
«Thats not enough!»
At least give me 24 hours. Then you could have hoped for help from a good fairy, or at least evil, if such flies over the fields, and in exchange for the soul will help with the decision. But there were no helpers around. He was alone with the serpent.
«Do you have a watch?» Brendan tried to confuse the snake. «You cant tell the time without a watch. I could run to the nearest town and get it. You said there was a castle near here.»
«Dont bother!» The serpent pulled a sandglass, overgrown with mud, from the well, with the tip of his tail. What a bastard! Hes got everything! Hes probably got a torture machine ready for anyone who cant solve the riddle.
He could try to escape from him, but Brendan already knew that a snakes tail catches faster than a lasso.
The hourglass was green from the mud, but it worked fine. The serpent flipped it over with the tip of its tail, and the sand spilled down.
Along with the sand, his life was running out. Something had to be done. It is useless to puzzle over a riddle.
«Let me play for you!» Brendan took out his lute. He has exactly five minutes. He can spend it on whatever he likes. He has little choice: he can either beg for mercy, which would be of no use, or he can utter a curse, which would only have a bad result, causing the serpent to attack him. Choose music, the most harmless solution.
Once drowning, so with a pleasant melody!
«Just dont sing any slow ballads. I do not stand them,» almost resentfully hissed snake. He wanted to bury his ears in his tail, but the problem was that he only had one tail, and two winged ears. One was left free to hear Brendan play.
The music made the snake relax. Could it have a hypnotic effect on him? Then it was not for nothing that he did not want to listen to it. Five minutes passed, and Brendan kept striking the strings of the lute, playing melodious sounds. The serpent did not think of interrupting him. On the contrary, he wagged his tail awkwardly and broke the clock, which he himself had set on the edge of the well. The sand in it was green. It hissed as the glass shattered, but the serpent paid no attention. He began mumbling something sleepily to the music.
«Living vines! Dry vines! The whispering of fairies! A spell! She should never have turned him down. The groom was good. And now theres magic everywhere. Grapes and roses are about to drive me out. They are as aggressive as the magically gifted matchmaker.»
It must be another mystery. Maybe the serpent forgot that he hadnt guessed the first one either. Its a clear overdose. Brendans riddles and problems immediately gave him a headache. As his uncle the king had often told him, he was stupid. He hadnt even mastered swordsmanship. But he did learn music. It was more useful with the serpent. With one sword he would have been strangled here long ago.
«What a wonderful sound!» The serpent stretched and yawned sleepily. «Its a long time since my mistress played for me like that.»
«And you even have a mistress! May I see her?»
Maybe, at least, shell tell him do not to terrorize travelers.
«It is all right! Come on in!» grumbled the serpent. «I only let you in because I have a weakness for musicians.»
Brendan rejoiced. He had told his uncle he had talent! And the old king didnt believe him. And he shouldnt have. Music doesnt need an army to put a dragon to sleep. Still, Brendan had a guilty conscience after all.
«I will try to solve your riddle on the way back,» he promised.
«Is it on the way back?» The serpent grinned sarcastically, letting out a puff of green smoke as he fell asleep. «He is an optimist! He hopes there will be a way back from here.»
Another man would have been alarmed, but Brendan decided to let the well-dweller mutter all he wanted. In his half-asleep state, the serpent resembled a drunk. And drunks, as everyone knows, dont know what theyre saying. The music probably had the same effect on him as alcohol does on people. Even the green vapor he exhaled folded into hearts and notes. Who would have thought the well dragon would turn out to be such a music lover. Brendon rejoiced in his good fortune and moved on. Strangely enough, as soon as he passed the well, the silhouette of a beautiful white-stone castle twined with vines loomed up in the distance. He had not seen it a moment before.
Cats Castle
The green creature on the well was sleeping peacefully. Brendan kept turning around, fearing that the serpent might blow green fire at him. He said «pass,» as if his mistress were hiding just ahead. But there was no one around.
Brendan tripped over something and swore. It felt as if his boot had been bitten right through. Was there another snake hiding in the grass? No, it was just a skull underfoot. It was an unusual one. He was neither animal nor human. It looks like the skull of a supernatural creature, with several eye sockets, a mouth with fangs, a shell-shaped skull, and curved horns, also made of bone. He wondered what such a creature was called while it was alive.
«Dont go!»
Well, whats the matter! Why does everybody keep telling him, «Dont go»? Is that where the devil is waiting ahead?
«You wont come back like me, you fool!» warned the skull as Brendan gently stepped over it and went on.
If everyone warned not to go ahead, then theres a fabulous treasure waiting there, Brendan thought.
The white stone castle loomed in the distance, against the blue skies. Its towers had the color of puffy clouds floating above them. The fortress wall was also white.
It would take an hour to reach it, Brendan estimated in his mind, but he did not reach it until late afternoon. The torches on the parapet were already blazing, illuminating the bizarre architecture of the walls.
Up close, the castle was even more beautiful than he could have imagined. Vines stretched along the walls like a luxurious net. The walls themselves abounded with stucco decorations and alabaster statues.
The gates were open, as if they were already waiting for a guest. The caryatid winked at him. Or was it just a dream?
Outside the gate was a beautiful garden of roses, jasmines, magnolias, and exotic plants.
The avenue of rosebushes leading to the open castle doors was empty. No guests but Brendan himself, no guards.
There are also bas-reliefs of graceful cats engraved on the doors that open. And inside you can see tapestries depicting a cats hunt for mice and birds. The interior of the castle was decorated either by a great humorist or an avid feline.
Brendan whistled when he noticed a fountain inside the spacious hallway, with wine pouring out instead of water. And he wanted to drink from the well! Of course there was no bucket or glass beside the fountain, but if he was thirsty he could always take a scoop of wine with his hand. It was sweet and invigorating, of the highest grade for sure! It was not until he was thirsty that Brendon remembered that the wine might be bewitched, or worse, poisoned.
«Look whos here!»
A pleasant girls voice came from the top of the stairs. Brendon looked up and saw two slender ladies. One of them, a brunette in a blue dress with bows, was an incomparable beauty. The second was dressed even more splendidly, but for some reason she hid her face under a veil. Was she a sorceress, perhaps? Effigenia also liked to throw a black veil over her head from time to time. She was rumored to enhance her connection to the spirits that way. Someone more realistic asserted that she was hiding age-related wrinkles. Since she used the veil most often in bright daylight, the second is more likely. What about the mistress of this castle? Brendan was sure it was the lady under the veil who was the mistress, because only a princess could afford such an expensive outfit, embroidered with gold thread and pearls. Is she hiding her face because she has made some elaborate vow to the gods? Or is it because she is ugly?
In any case, Brendan was more attracted to the first girl. She had black sable eyebrows, violet eyes, a chiseled profile, and soft dark hair that cascaded down her bare shoulders. In a word beautiful! Except that her plump pink lips pouted dismissively at the sight of a mere minstrel. Perhaps she was waiting for a prince. A mere musician showed up. And he was in his dusty clothes. If only she knew how difficult it was to run through the magic fields without tearing his clothes.
«It is another guest!» She blurted out phlegmatically, as if Brendan were a disappointment to her.
«I am not a guest. I am an employee,» he immediately tried to prove his usefulness and showed her the lute. «I am a minstrel.»
It was as if the beauty had not heard him.
«Weve had many guests before, and theyve all disappointed us. Maybe well have better luck with this one.»
Whats she talking about? And whats with the way she talks about him like hes a piece of furniture? Either hes being deliberately mocked, or hes misunderstood something.
«If Im not welcome here, Ill be going,» Brendan was reluctant to leave, but he turned around defiantly.
«Youre not going anywhere,» the pretty girl said arrogantly. «We dont let our guests leave so quickly.»
Would she go down the stairs to the hall to greet him as usual, or should he ignore decorum and go up himself? There are no guards around, so you can behave however you want.
Brendan brazenly went up himself, though no one invited him. The flight of stairs was even more chic than the one below. And the brunette was even prettier up close. Except that in the light of the sconces you could see the deep scratches on her neck and shoulders.
«A cat scratched you, too!» Brendan wanted to roll up his sleeve and show her the scratches, but she snorted angrily.
«What makes you think its a cat?»
«I just thought»
He thought hed found a comrade in grief.
«I know from experience that pampered palace cats are not always affectionate to the lords minions.
«Watch your tongue. You insult us.»
«Whom do you mean? Are they you, her, the cats? Or are they the minions of noble lords?» Brendan realized that if the beautiful woman was the mistress companion, then the word «hangers-on» might have been applied to her before he had. Then no wonder she was so angry. It was not clear why her mistress suddenly felt so unwell. The lady under the veil almost fainted.
Brendan could only now see how splendid her attire was. The corset was embroidered with tiny diamonds, the sleeves were decorated with sapphires, and the layered skirts were made of the most expensive Aluars brocade. Only kings could afford such. The lady herself, judging by her graceful figure, is worthy of the costume. Her waist is as narrow as a hornets waist. Her movements are supple. Her posture is haughty. What is her face like, he wondered? It cant be an ugly face in such a graceful lady! Her voice is very pleasant.
«Do not be offended, Rebecca. He meant no harm,» said the veiled lady to her companion, or ladys confidante, or servant.
«You are an angel of mercy! You know what I mean!» Brendan encouraged his hostess. «By the way, I am a very talented minstrel. My music makes people, and even snakes, feel as euphoric as if they had gone to heaven.»
Well, if you dont praise yourself, no one will know how good you are! Rebecca looked at Brendan with great doubt. He wasnt lying. She was the only one who was a liar. The scratches on her skin were obviously cats scratches. Only a cat could have made such marks on her shoulders, her neck, part of her cheek, even her arms. Brendan only now considered how serious the damage was. Maybe thats what made her so angry. He couldnt handle the Bastard himself, so he endured the pain of the scratches. It was impossible to negotiate peace and friendship with the royal cat. Thankfully, Rebeccas thin scratches on her cheek didnt spoil her at all. They were fresh. You could still see blood on them. But when they healed, there might not be any scars left. Brendan himself had hardly any scars from the Bastards claws.