By the lake of Guilden, set safely back from its cold, fertile waters, primly away from the shore where the villagers caught the fish that made them a living, sat the castle Morna. It was a well-made structure of local blue-gray stone, and its designers thought of comfort as well as safety. The village of Morna is so isolated it was never in the path of the great invasions, and the lake protected the castle's flank. Most villagers were born, played along the lake, saw their Masses, married, had children, grew old, and slept forever under the sod of Morna, never bothering to see what was over the low, stony hills around them. The rulers of Morna were a quiet lot, caring nothing for new conquests or wealth beyond the easy life they led. And who could blame them?

Into this complacent and uneventful world were born the children of Karel, King of Morna, and Guinn, his dark-haired queen. Three daughters Guinn bore, children conceived in the immense love between Karel and his queen. But when the youngest was still very small, Queen Guinn was seized by a fever on an icy Samhain's eve and died before sunrise. The villagers mourned her death as for their own wives and mothers, and Karel resigned himself to passing on his kingdom through his daughters; without his beloved Guinn, there would be no more children for him.

The eldest girls, Habeth and Mornel, learned quickly that, though they were children, they could order adults about. They grew proud and uncharitable, mistreating the ladies who reared them, shunned by everyone who could avoid them.

The youngest daughter, Guinna, was as sweet as her sisters were foul. As she was so small, her father feared for her health, and entrusted her care to a gentle village woman who had lost her own child. This foster mother instilled in Guinna a deep and simple devotion to the Virgin, and a desire for a quiet life. The few who knew the young princess cherished her.

One summer's day when Guinna was a lovely slip of a young woman, King Karel received a messenger from the nearby kingdom of Galand. The king of Galand, in the way of kings in those days, proposed an alliance, a partnership of the kingdoms. The message was lengthy and very pretty, and mixed with the sentiments of brotherhood and common heritage was mention of trade between the kingdoms.

Karel and his counselors listened to the message, and a gloom settled on the king. He knew this alliance would require the marriage of one or more of his daughters to Galand's royal family. His lack of a son and the loss of his girls weighed on his heart, but he knew it was to the advantage of his daughters and his people to make this alliance. So, he gave the messenger a fine chamber in which to rest, and spent a day composing a reply.

The reply was lengthy and of much beauty. It acknowledged the common brotherhood of the two kingdoms, agreed to the benefit of trade, and suggested Galand send negotiators to discuss the alliance further. These negotiators should speak for the king and work in his name. Perhaps a member of the royal family? With this message and an assortment of gifts, Karel sent the messenger back to his homeland.

Sooner than Karel expected or desired, he received a reply from Galand. The reply came not as a single member of the Galand royal family, but as three princes. The oldest was Thatele, the heir to Galand, a lad who loved horses and archery and the company of fighting men. Younger by a year was Gorbath who also enjoyed the company of soldiers, who would listen to any poet or minstrel with a tale to tell, but was tight of fist when it came time to pay those singers. With them came Calian, youngest prince of Galand, a lad a little out of place. Calian loved time spent in church, and he also had an ear for a good story. Some thought he was composing his own epic for he was sometimes seen wandering alone, talking out loud. But so far he had not shared his tale.

Karel felt himself sink lower. The sight of the lean, powerful young men, glorious in their youth and energy, depressed him more than he could say. It reminded him of his lost youth, his lost queen Guinn, and his last connection to her - his girls whom he would lose them to these lads.

But a king's choices are often not his own. The people of Morna were his care, and Karel welcomed the three for the sake of his daughters and the village. The welcome speeches were long and poetic. Afterward, the king had the visitors shown to their chambers, then retired himself.

The next morning Karel met with the princes, and in the formal language of that time and place, introduced them to his daughters, the whole group acting as if it were a simple, pleasant surprise that there should be the same number of young men as young ladies. One of the king's counselors suggested a walk along the lake to acquaint the visitor's with the beauty of Guilden and the country around Morna. The lads agreed, and the party walked toward the lake: the three princes, the three princesses, King Karel and his ever-present counselor.

The sun was warm, the breeze off the lake was soft, and the group moved slowly through the grasses near Guilden. The two older brothers and sisters moved ahead, the brothers explaining the excitement of horse racing, the girls enraptured by the virile, confident speech. Karel and his counselor walked a few paces behind, the king content to follow so he could watch the young men. Calian and Guinna followed at the rear talking quietly between themselves.

"G'mornin' and bless ye, fine sirrahs and ladies," said a voice from a nearby bush. "May it please ya, could you tell a travellin' man where he might find bed and a bit of bread in this lovely village, hmmm?" From behind the bush stepped the traveling man. He was old and bent with the weight of many summers, but his eye and his voice were clear. He had a crushed hat and a shirt frayed at the edges and seams, and the bindle on his shoulder could not have seemed more part of him.

"Who are you, stranger?" asked the counselor.

"A stranger," the man replied, "passing through yer gentle town, bless ye, and on along the road again." The man cocked his head to the side and looked calmly at them. "Is there no hospitality here, hmmm?"

Karel said, "We have few strangers and travelers in Morna, and we have grown used to that. We care little for vagabonds or highwaymen. You will continue without stopping here."

"Highwayman, hmmm?" The man cocked his head to the other side. "You'll call me a thief and not bother to know me, hmmm?"

Thatele, the eldest brother, spoke up. "As a stranger, you may not know you are speaking to Karel, King of Morna. He told you to shoulder your sack of rags and take to your heels. Now go before my brothers and I give you a much needed rinse in the lake." Gorbath laughed and stepped beside his brother. The older sisters watched in amusement.

The old man cocked his head to the other side, again. "So, it's hot road dust for me, and a duckin' if I'm slow, hmmm? Ah, well, 'tis not a first for any of us - you with your hard talk and me with my long walk." Without waiting for a reply, he switched the bindle from one shoulder to the other and turned back to the bushes from which he'd emerged.

"Wait," called Calian, trotting up to the traveling man. "Here, this will help in the next village, if they let you stay." He pressed a few coins into the man's rough and sun-darkened hand.

"And I will pray that you reach a town in safety," said Guinna walking up beside Calian. "No one should travel without a prayer to prepare the road."

The man turned his clear green eyes toward the couple and nodded. Then without a word he moved off into the bushes.

"Calian, you only encourage him to beg," said Thatele in disgust.

"Now, brother," said Gorbath, "you know Calian is more suited to the priesthood than the palace."

"And Guinna would be more comfortable in a convent than-" Mornel cut her jest short at an angry look from Karel. The king wished no beggars in Morna, but he would tolerate no taunting of Guinna. With the half-finished insult hanging in the air, the group resumed their walk along the shore of Guilden.

Karel noticed a small boat under sail on the lake. This was not an unusual sight, but he did not recognize the bright markings on the sail, and so kept an eye on the craft as they walked. He decided the pilot must be looking for them for, as they approached the water, the craft changed course to meet them.

"Look," said Guinna during a pause in her sisters' conversation, "there's no one in that boat."

The party turned to look, and the wind shifted slightly, sending the boat directly toward them. As it approached, they could see it was a small, well-built and beautifully rigged craft. The sails that bellied in the light breeze were snowy white and made of better material that the princesses wore. The intricate geometric pattern on the sail was finely done, detailed and in many brilliant colors. The fittings and oar locks shone red in the sun.

"Gold!" cried Gorbath. "The fittings on that craft are of red gold. A wonderful country is Morna! Good King Karel, who among your subjects would have such a magnificent craft?"

"None of the people of Morna," answered Karel. "I've never seen this craft before."

Gorbath now cast a harder eye on the boat. "If it's abandoned, I say it belongs to who finds it. Wouldn't you say, Thatele?"

"It's for us!" broke in Habeth. "It's like the romances and minstrel tales. Remember? When royal folk go out for a walk, they can hardly avoid an adventure. I say that's what this is - an adventure waiting for royalty to arrive!"

"That it is!" cried Thatele. "It's ours. We'll take a little sail in her, and then we'll just take her. How's that?"

His brother and the older sisters quickly agreed, each for different reasons. Guinna said nothing, but when her sisters pleaded with her to go, she finally relented and said she would sail in the strange craft. Calian eyed her worriedly. He wanted nothing to do with an enchanted craft, and he wanted Guinna to avoid it, too. But he knew it was pointless to argue with his brothers and the other women.

"Ladies first" announced Mornel, stepping to the craft. It inched slowly nearer, pushing aside reeds and bumping against the shore so it was easy for her to board. She hesitated when she saw it approach, but she knew the others were watching, and so she stepped on. The boat was as solid and stable under her feet as the shore. Habeth followed her, and the two moved to the stern to make more room.

The instant Guinna's feet touched the bottom of the boat, the wind shifted and began to gust, moving the boat quickly offshore. The girls cried out and tried to jump out, but their feet were stuck to the boat! Calian splashed out into the water, but the boat was already moving away too quickly for him to catch. The men on the shore shouted to the women to jump, but the girls were powerless to escape. Karel had just turned for Morna to summon the guard when a high, thin voice cut through the din.

"Not feeling so regal now, hmmm?"

Silence fell on the royal group, and they turned to face the boat's mast where the voice had come from. Perched atop the mast, head cocked to one side, ankles crossed, happily swinging his heels sat a miniature version of the vagrant they had met on the shore. The crushed hat, the frayed hems, the bindle on his shoulder were all the same, but now shrunk to a size appropriate for a man seven inches tall.

"What are you playing at?" King Karel roared. "Who are you?"

"My name is 7inch," said the small man, cocking his head to the other side. "This is my boat and these ladies are my guests. Not feeling so high and powerful now, are we, hmmm? The Old Ways demanded a generous hand to a traveler and a stranger. I hear that your new one-god ways require charity, also. Perhaps at my home these ladies will learn better manners, hmmm? And maybe you too, hmmm?"

As 7inch spoke, the sails of the boat stretched as if pushed by a strong wind, though Calian could tell no change in the breeze. The king and princes watched helplessly. The boat slid quickly toward the far shore of Guilden, the older girls shrieking for help, Guinna staring sadly across the water toward her father.

"To the docks!" cried Karel. "We'll take fishing boats and catch them!" Off to the fishing beach they ran, turning every few steps to look out across the lake to the boat skimming quickly away from them. When they reached the fishermen, Karel yelled that the princesses had been kidnapped, and ordered the men to their boats. The king, the counselor and each prince took a boat, and with a commandeered rowing team in each, the five craft set out across the water to catch 7inch and his prisoners.

Though the fishermen strained against the oarlocks, they could not catch 7inch's craft. While the king's flotilla was still halfway across the lake, 7inch landed his boat on the far shore, the sails collapsed as if the wind had died, and 7inch leapt lightly from the top of the mast. He flicked his left hand at the three girls and they all joined hands. He then took Guinna's hand and led them from the boat onto the shore.

Their cries for help floated across the water, twisting into Karel's heart, but the fishermen could pull no harder than they were, and the king could only watch helplessly as 7inch led the girls to a stone sided well. Still holding Guinna's hand, he led the three princesses up a small set of stone steps, then they each stepped into the over-large white bucket that hung from the well's windlass. Standing on the stone side of the well, 7inch cranked the windlass, the rope played out and the girls descended into the well, their cries fading away as the little man turned the crank.

King Karel went apoplectic roaring in rage and fear. "He's drowning them! The accursed creature is drowning by children!"

"No, majesty," called Calian. "Look!"

At the well, the little man had stopped turning the crank. He looked out across the water to the incoming boats, cocked his head to one side, then jumped from the stone wall to the bucket rope. The last they saw of him was as he slid out of sight into the well.

"He would not have drowned himself, King Karel," Calian yelled across the water. "There's more to that well than we can see."

Within seconds, King Karel's fisher-flotilla pulled into the shore reeds, the men charged up to the well and peered over the side. The well was very deep and very old. It had stone sides that disappeared into the shadows, and there was no sight or smell of water. The fishermen crossed themselves and swore it had not been there the day before. The bucket rope was a thin brown ribbon of silk hanging limply from the windlass. Thatele grabbed the handle and with a single turn, he cranked the bucket to the top. It was a small wooden bucket, old, dry and worn. And it was empty.

"Right," said Karel, climbing the stone steps and grabbing the silk bucket rope. He would have dropped out of sight into the portal if the brothers and fishermen had not grabbed him. It took much talk to convince Karel to stay on the surface and let the young men drop into this adventure. Karel stared at the stout young men and felt each his gray hairs as an unbearable weight of years on him. He was helpless to save his girls, and it was more obvious he would soon lose them to the young adventurers. At last he nodded his agreement.

Though a braggart, Thatele was stout of heart. He tested the strength of the silk cord and it held no matter how hard he tugged. With a grand promise to return with the girls, the oldest prince dropped over the edge into the well, slid down the cord and was lost in the shadows. After a few seconds the cord stopped shaking. Gorbath decided his brother had reached the bottom. Smiling broadly, he winked at the king, and then he too dropped into the darkness.

"Don't worry, King Karel," Calian said, climbing the steps. "God watches over idiots. We'll be back." The king smiled weakly at the lad. Then, silk cord in his hand and a silent prayer in his heart, Calian dropped over the side.

Deep into the well he went, sliding quickly down the smooth silk cord. He reached out his left hand and let it scrape against the well wall. It was made of cut stone, dry but worn smooth from centuries of water. Though the well rope had looked only a few feet long, and though his brothers had seemed to reach bottom in a few seconds, Calian slid for many minutes, air rushing by in utter darkness. The small dot of light at the top of the well shrunk in the distance and soon vanished entirely.

On and on into the blackness he fell and slid down the cord. After many more minutes, he felt the wind rushing past him grow stronger. At first he was afraid he was falling faster, and he grabbed the cord tightly. Then he noticed that the cord was slipping slowly through his fingers. The wind blowing upwards was slowing him down. He fell slower and slower until he finally landed with a soft thump! into a large pile of dry leaves.

He could see the leaves! And the bucket that lay in the leaves! 'How is that?' he wondered. Glancing about, he noticed that one of the sides of the well was gray, not midnight black like the others, and far off in the distance there was a light. Calian stepped toward this side and found the wall was actually an arched doorway, an exit from the bottom of the well. The dot of light at the far end looked like daylight, so Calian headed for it.

In only two steps, Calian stepped blinking from the darkness into a new world complete with sky, grass, wind. The tunnel emerged from the side of what back home he would call a fairy mound, and when his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw that the area around the mound was walled in by a large, emerald green hedge. Sitting atop the mound, thirty feet away and to his back when he came from the tunnel, was a turf and thatch cottage like a thousand others back home.

With no other plan, Calian headed for the cottage. The door of the cottage looked stronger and better made than most, and the glass windows were so dirty he could not see through them, but otherwise the house looked like the ones that made up whole villages in his Galand home. He knocked on the door, then knocked some more, and finally pounded on it, but there was no answer. As he turned to leave, the door creaked open behind him.

"Hello?" he called. "Hello?" Silence. But, answer or no answer, Calian decided the open door was an invitation. He pushed the door open further and walked in.

The front room of the cottage was much larger and better appointed inside than out. It had well-fitted stone walls, flagstone floors, and a high timbered ceiling. The room was strong, cool and damp, with recesses for hanging coats and stowing equipment. It looked almost as big as the whole cottage, and there was no one in it but Calian. On the opposite wall was another stout wooden door, so he walked across the room and opened that.

Instead of stepping out the back door of the cottage, Calian found himself in another, larger, stone room, this one nearly filled with a huge table set for a feast. There were steaming platters of meat, mounds of oven fresh bread, flagons of wine and juice, some chilling in bowls of crushed ice - but no one sitting at the many seats around table. There were shields, spears and knives hung along the walls and a roaring fire in fireplaces on either side of the room. Beside the door at the far end of the room were two well-carved statues of warriors. Made of rough local stone, they were had short swords drawn and were crouched to attack.

Calian was hungry. He had not eaten since the night before and had no idea how long he had fallen down the well. The feast spread across the table was inviting, but he was not hungry enough to steal. Tired, but with a hunger that promised to keep him awake, Calian decided that whoever lived in this place would soon come to lunch, so he settled himself by the fire to wait.

He had hardly stretched his feet before him when he heard the door beside the statues creak open. Jumping from his seat, he turned to see Guinna strolling shyly into the room. Beside her walked 7inch who, in one step, leaped from the stone floor to the laden banquet table.

"And why are you not eating, hmmm?" asked the little man, stepping around a serving platter of steaks and picking up a bread stick that was nearly as tall as he was. "Does my table not suit you, hmmm?"

"Very well, sir," Calian answered. His eyes were on Guinna who looked frightened but unhurt. "It is a lovely feast, but I'm afraid I've received no invitation to sit."

"Neither did your brothers, but they did not slow for all that. They made themselves much more free than welcome at my table, and when I objected, they gave me the rough side of their tongues into the bargain. So, there they stand." He waved the bread stick at the two statues by the door. "I doubt their stomachs will trouble them much like that, hmmm?"

Calian looked closely then at the blue-stone statues. It was true. They were the image of Thatele and Gorbath. "Please, sir -"

"7inch," interrupted the little man. "Call me 7inch." He sounded very friendly.

"Please, 7inch, sir, how can my brothers return to life?"

"Oh, they live now." 7inch threw the bread stick back to its plate. "They just don't belly up to my table. Or pay for their supper with a lot of chin music. But I'm sure you've reasons for wanting them back in their former state. No accounting for taste, hmmm? Sit. We will eat and talk of this, hmmm?"

Calian glanced again at Guinna.

"Oh, don't worry about her," 7inch said, dipping a golden thimble into a flagon of wine. "She's perfectly fine. Just can't talk." He took a drink.

For the next hour Calian and 7inch tucked into the feast spread before them, and Guinna picked apart a bread stick. Calian knew it was a bad idea to eat in the land of faery, but when 7inch described where Habeth and Mornel were imprisoned - yes, imprisoned they were - Calian knew he must prepare himself. He piled his plate with venison steaks, roast duck, fresh beer bread and warm apple pies. He noticed that, no matter how much they ate, the serving platters were always full, the food never grew cold, the drinks were always chilled. Calian was not surprised.

After he had described the older girls' predicament - imprisoned by giants is the short description - 7inch kicked away a napkin on the table. Under it were two small knives. He told Calian to take them. They had black wooden handles and razor sharp blades no longer than your little finger.

"These are yours, lad. They are well made and very well balanced for throwing, if needed. But ONLY if needed! You understand, hmmm?" Calian nodded. "Good. Now, the lady and I will retire to our rooms for the evening. You go through that door." 7inch pointed at the door where Calian had come in. "You can stay in that room until morning, but you had better be away at first light, hmmm?" Without waiting for an answer, 7inch took Guinna's hand and led her back through the door between the "statues."

Calian wondered if the dining room, with its padded chairs and roaring fire that never died, might be a better place to pass the night. A quick glance at his brothers reminded him of what might happen if he crossed 7inch. He told his stone brothers that they should not worry. He would do all he could to return them to their own bodies. Taking a last drink from an icy flagon of juice, Calian walked back out the door.

Instead of the reception hall, he stepped into a well-outfitted bedroom. The bed stood high off the floor and was stacked thick with blankets. A warm blaze crackled in the fireplace and Calian knew it would not go out or need tending. He was beginning to understand how some people could go away to the land of faery and never return. Placing the two tiny knives on the table beside the bed, the young man crawled under the covers, said his night prayers and soon slipped off to sleep.

"Going to sleep the day away, hmmm?" 7inch jumped up and down on the mound of blankets on top of Calian. "Thought you were going to rescue some one, hmmm?" The little man leaped lightly from the bed to the floor. "When you can raise yourself, come out to the dining room." The heavy door closed behind him.

Pausing to wash him face and pocket the throwing knives, Calian hurried through the door back into the banquet hall. Except that the table was empty of food, all was as it had been the night before - long table, fires roaring, arms and armor on the wall, stone brothers on either side of the opposite door and Guinna standing silently beside 7inch.

"Ah, you did decide to come along, hmmm? Well, out the door and on your way, then." Calian caught himself looking at the empty table. "Oh, there'll be nothing here to eat," said 7inch. "You walk for the giant's castle. There's plenty to eat there and anything you carry will only slow you down. Are you not going, then, hmmm?" The little man looked expectantly at Calian.

Realizing he was expected to leave and leave now, Calian gave Guinna a last smile and stepped back through the door that had led to his bedroom. The room had now returned to the entrance hall he had seen the day before. Crossing to the heavy main door, Calian stepped into the gray light of a new dawn. He felt the door close behind him with a thud.

The prince walked across the cottage's lawn to the high hedge that surrounded it. He found the hedge covered in three-inch thorns so sharp that some had flies speared them. There were so many that they formed an impassable, woven wall of plant. Calian reached out his left hand to feel the thorns. He wanted to see if they were brittle enough to hack through with the tiny knives. Where his hand approached, the plants moved. The spikey thorns curled, the branches rolled back and the roots crawled through the soil to make a passage for him. Calian crossed himself, took a last look at 7inch's cottage and then set off across the rolling plain to the east. The hedge closed.

Without even lunch to slow him down, Calian walked the whole day through. It was sunset when he saw the first giant's house standing on a small knoll in the midst of a stand of old oaks. The lad was starving, and when he approached the house he could smell meat cooking. Crossing the hard packed stone yard around the house and creeping up to a window, Calian saw Mornel standing at a table, mixing something in a stone bowl. She was dirty, sweaty and looked in a foul mood.

Calian hissed her name through the window. When she spotted him, the princess yelped with joy. "The giant is out hunting," she said. "Let's run!"

It wasn't easy but Calian finally calmed her down and explained that he would have to leave her there for another day while he went to fetch Mornel. Mornel didn't like it, but she understood. She took the lad in and gave him part of the supper she had cooked for Frayg, the giant.

Calian had nearly cleaned his plate when there came a series of deafening slapping sounds from outside. "That's Frayg," Mornel whispered. "His big flat feet make that awful noise on the yard. Quick! Get in here before he sees you!" She shoved Calian, a rib bone in hand, into a closet.

The closet door was so ill made that Calian could see clearly into the kitchen through a gap. He saw all twelve feet of Frayg stomp into the kitchen. The giant threw a skinned animal of some sort onto the table. "Woman! Have you made my supper?"

Mornel pushed a loaded platter of roast meat in front of him. "Here's your supper. Sit and eat."

The giant eyed the steaming mound of meat. "That's cooked. I smell fresh meat somewhere in the house!" He sniffed and looked hard at the closet.

"Nonsense," said Mornel, dipping up a pitcher of wine from the barrel that stood by the door. "The thing I cooked for supper was fresh before I started. And you just brought in another bit of lovely meat." She looked at the carcass on the table and retched. "It's no wonder you smell fresh meat. Here. Wash that taste out of your mouth with this."

Frayg looked doubtful, but the sight of the supper and the pitcher of wine drove all other thoughts out of his head. Flopping into a chair, he stuffed huge wads of the roasted animal into his mouth, followed by pitchers of the wine. Mornel struggled to keep his plate full without being bitten herself, but she worked even harder to keep the wine pitcher full. Finally, when there was nothing left of the supper, Frayg pushed back from the table.

"I'm still hungry," he belched. "There weren't as much as usual." He wiped his mouth on the back of his filthy hand.

"Oh, you're just thirsty. Have some more of this wine." Mornel brought another pitcher to the filthy, drunken creature.

Frayg grunted and guzzled off most of the pitcher, though some did drip down the sides of his face and onto the dirt and hair of his chest. "That was a good supper, even if there wasn't enough. When are you going to marry me?"

"I told you," Mornel said. "Not till Saint Tibb's Eve."

"Hunh! Wish I knew when that was!" Frayg laid face forward onto the table and was immediately asleep.

Mornel opened the closet door. "You stay in here tonight," she told Calian. "I'll get you up early and you can be gone long before that thing wakes up." She turned to look at the sleeping giant whose snores were shaking dust from the rafters.

Calian decided that since he might have another full day of hiking ahead of him, he would get some sleep. He slept that night in the closet, which being a giant's closet, was certainly big enough for him.

Dawn was just showing along the horizon the next morning when Mornel roused Calian. She pointed him in the direction the other giant had taken the oldest sister. Calian decided a giant would not bother to wander out of his way, so he set off in a straight line after the giant. Again, he walked the whole day, reaching the giant's keep at sunset. Like the first, it was a ramshackle affair, more dirt than sound building, and surrounded by hard packed earth and stone.

Habeth was overjoyed to see him, and gave him part of the giant's supper. A few bites into it, they heard the loud smacking of giant flat feet in the yard. Taking a chunk of meat with him, Calian settled into another poorly made giant's closet. The giant, Grayg, padded into the kitchen but before he could start sniffing about, Habeth shoved plates of food and a pitcher of wine in front of him. Grayg had smelled something unusual, but being a typical giant, the sight of food knocked all other thoughts out of his head. He collapsed onto his stool and started eating and drinking.

"Belch!" he announced at last. "Woman, when you gonna marry me?"

"I told you before," said Habeth, "the day after my little sister marries your brother."

"Belch!" Grayg announced again, and fell face forward into his plate. He began to snore.

As the night was moonless and black, the humans waited until first light the next morning to steal two horses and make their run for home. But as they were leaving the stables, hooves clattered on the hard packed yard in front of the giant's house. Thinking the sound might mean something to eat, Grayg roused himself from the table and stomped to the door just in time to see Calian and Habeth riding into the woods. The filthy creature roared to see his fiancee, two horses and a potential supper escaping, and he charged off after them.

Now, a giant's thinking is a slow and ponderous affair, but a giant's running is a formidable thing. Grayg charged hard after the young people, never stopping, never slowing. The humans had started with a small lead, but the giant was closing, his huge legs covering more ground with each step than the horses. As the sun rose higher and higher, Calian realized they would never outrun Grayg. Knowing what would happen if they were caught, he decided their situation was about as bad as it could get. Calian slipped his right hand into his boot and pulled out one of the small knives 7inch had given him. He turned in his saddle and flung the blade at the giant charging giant.

The tiny knife dropped to the ground only halfway to the giant. Calian winced, thinking he was betrayed, but where the knife hit the ground, a huge thorn-covered hedge sprang from the earth. It was twice the height of the giant, ran for hundreds of yards in either direction, and it was covered in the same three-inch thorns as the one at 7inch's house. But it didn't open up the way the other one had. Grayg could not slow down and he ran headlong into the hedge. He roared and cursed so loud the tired horses were scared into running harder.

Calian knew the monster would work his way around the hedge, so he didn't let horses slow.

It was nearly noon when the prince and princess burst from a patch of woods and saw Frayg's house sitting on its little hill. Mornel was standing outside watching for them. When she saw her sister and Calian approaching, she ran to Frayg's stable and got three of his horses. She mounted one and held the reins of the other two. "Hurry!" she called. She could see Grayg charging after the riders. The giant had lost ground, and he was sore from all the thorns he had pulled out of his grimy hide, but his horses were nearly exhausted, and he was coming fast.

When the humans finally reach Frayg's yard they quickly switched horses and were off again, this time avoiding the hard packed earth around the giant's house.

As Grayg neared Frayg's home, he roared, a nasty, hateful giant roar that woke Frayg from the drunken stupor where he was still laying from the night before. Frayg stumbled to the door and saw his brother in pursuit of his new own housekeeper and his horses. With a roar of his own, he charged off after the party.

Grayg showed no sign of tiring, and Frayg was drawing close when Calian decided to try the other dagger. He was afraid Grayg would know the trick too well for it to slow the giants much, but it was all he could think of. With a prayer for a good aim, Calian flung the tiny blade at Frayg.

This throw also fell far short, and the knife stuck into the ground a few feet behind Calian's horse. Calian groaned, and his groan echoed loudly from the dirt beneath the tiny knife. The land beneath the blade began to sink, forming an expanding pit. The ground fell away just behind the horses' back hooves, and the pit grew ever deeper. The rumbling of the ground spurred the horses more than the riders could ever have done, and the giants, unable to stop quickly, ran off into the pit then ran along its rim, trying to keep from going too far into it. But the pit kept expanding, and it bought the humans some time.

When the pit was about a league wide, it stopped growing and started to fill with water that bubbled up from the knife wound in the turf. For several minutes the giants pounded along the side of the pit, and the humans rode hard. Ahead they saw the thorn hedge that surrounded 7inch's house, but the horses were slowing. Behind them the pit filled with water and leveled off. The giants had vanished, but Calian wouldn't believe it would be that easy. Those creatures weren't going to simply drown.

When the riders were still dangerously far from the hedge, Frayg and Grayg burst from the newly made lake, roaring and charging harder than ever. The horses were slowing, but Calian yelled at the women to press them hard. "We only have one chance," he yelled. "Into the hedge!"

Habeth started to tell Calian what she thought of that idea, but Frayg roared again, closer than ever, and she contented herself with spurring her horse the harder. She and Mornel fell behind Calian and drove headlong toward the thorny wall ahead of them.

When they were so close that Calian began to doubt himself, the hedge started to open. The thorns untangled, the branches rolled back and the roots crawled their way through the soil until there was an opening just one horse wide. With a last spur to the animals, the three dashed through the gap and into the yard of 7inch's house. They reined up their mounts, which promptly collapsed in exhaustion to the turf.

Left on foot with the giant brothers charging after them, the trio looked frantically around for a place to hide. The only places to run were the house and the hillside tunnel, and both were too far away. Storming up to the hedge came Frayg, his head down so he could run through the opening. When he was two giant steps from the opening - and three from catching up to the helpless humans - the hedge branches snapped back together! Frayg slammed head first into the spike covered wall. Before he could yell his first curse, Grayg slammed into him. The hedge wall shook along its length, but it held.

Calian could hear the giants shouting at each other in their own language, and there was the ring of a solid smack! The brothers were fighting over whose fault this was. The hedge roots slowly worked their way back into place and within moments the wall was solid and impassable again. Slowly the giant voices drifted away, still yelling, still punctuated by loud smacks as each made his point by hitting his brother across the head.

When they recovered their breath, and when Calian was certain the horses would survive, the three climbed stiffly to their feet and walked across the yard to 7inch's cottage. The solid, oaken door swung silently open as they approached, but they were too tired to wonder at it. They walked through the reception hall straight to the dining room door. It opened as Calian leaned against it.

"So," piped the little man from the near edge of the dining table, "you finally made it back. Trouble? Hmmm?" He cocked his tiny head to one side.

The three collapsed into chairs around the table. The girls were too exhausted to try to eat, and even Calian was tired enough not to worry about 7inch's permission or approval for sitting.

7inch strolled jauntily back and forth between the bedraggled princesses, hands behind his back, looking at them at a slant. "Glad this young man made it through for you," he said. "These others, they thought they would fetch you, too." He waved a miniature hand at the statues on the other side of the room. "Didn't make it though, did they, hmmm?"

For the first time the girls noticed the stone warriors. Calian saw confusion slide across Habeth's face; Mornel just shook her head to show she didn't understand.

"Oh, they thought they'd be heroes." 7inch stepped casually down the length of the table. "Don't know if they could be heroes." He passed in front of Calian. "Do know they couldn't be polite. What ails you, girl?"

7inch had stopped in front of Guinna. Tears were sliding silently down her cheeks.

"I'm just happy to see my sisters again," she squeaked.

"Not worried about these young stone men, are you? Hmmm?" Guinna nodded, and more tears pooled in her eyes. "You really feel sorry for them? Hmmm?" This 'hmmm' was very soft, very tender for the brash little man. He gave her a look of concern and reached small hands to her face to brush away the tears. "Maybe that counts for something," he said softly. "Maybe? Hmmm?" He walked slowly to the end of the table closest to the young men and raised his tear-wet hands in the air. He brought his arms down with a snap, and from each hand a single, silvery tear arced through the air to land on the stone princes.

The impact of the tear knocked the statues to the floor. Calian jumped to his feet and ran to them, afraid the shock would shatter his brothers. Instead he found them, flesh and blood and clothes and all, lying in the floor, blinking at the light. Guinna's single tear shed in love and pity had been enough to bring each of them back to being people.

When the princes and princesses realized the spell was lifted, there were more tears all around, and much hugging and laughing besides. At 7inch's invitation they all sat to lunch at the oaken feasting table that never emptied. The group spent the afternoon in drink and laughter and talk.

When the diners were tucking away the last of their desserts, 7inch stood upon the table and tapped the edge of a pewter goblet to get their attention. Standing amid the silver plates and bowls, he delivered the young people a speech, one they perhaps did not want, but one he felt they needed. I cannot pretend to do it justice as 7inch had the gift of the faery tongue, but he explained the need to treat strangers fairly and well. Peaceful foreign travelers are dependent and vulnerable, he told them, and the way a man treats them is a measure of how civilized is the man. Didn't their own religion teach that angels traveled as strangers among men?

He then explained that Calian need not have saved the older sisters (they were mere strangers to the young prince, remember?), but he had done so by choice. He also wanted them to understand that it had been Guinna and her concern that had returned the statue brothers to normal life.

Then 7inch led the party from the table through the door the statue brothers had "guarded." They found a treasure room with bags of coins in the corners, boxes of jewelry along the walls, heavy tables piled with books and scrolls. Weaving his way among assorted sacks and trunks of gold, 7inch led them to a table pushed against the back wall. There on the table, all by themselves, were three, three-in-one crowns of gold, silver and copper - the thin etched gold supported by shimmering silver, the silver by the glowing copper.

"Take these with you," 7inch told them. "Let the princes keep and guard them, but have the princesses wear them at your weddings. Let the crowns remind you of this adventure and what you have learned. And let them remind you of how the gold depends on the support of the silver, and the gold and silver are both supported and depend on the base, common copper. So it is in your world where your 'royal' families are dependent on the non-royal."

The whole group, whether they meant it or not, whether from gratitude or relief, thanked 7inch profusely. With the small man in the lead, and with each prince carrying a three-in-one crown, the party of young royalty strolled arm and arm from the treasure room, through the feasting room, through the front room (which was still a reception hall) and out to the grounds around the hut. Each prince and princess talked quietly among themselves as 7inch led the way to the tunnel that led to the bottom of the well.

There they found a small platform on wheels hitched to a tiny pony. It couldn't be called a wagon as there were no seats or sides, but there were candles mounted on poles on the corners of the platform, and enough room for them all to stand. 7inch bid them to mount the platform, and he climbed onto the tiny horse. With a snap of his fingers, 7inch put the pony in motion, and the group moved into the tunnel.

The platform was big enough for the young couples to have a little room to themselves, provided they kept their voices low, and they all chat a bit during the ride. I know not what they said to each other, and most of it is not our business, but I know Guinna warned Calian, relaying to him a message given to her by 7inch. If the rest of the party asked Calian to be the last in the bucket, he should put something else in and see what happened. Calian thought this odd, but he saw the concern in Guinna's eyes; he promised he would make the switch.

Much too soon the little party reached the bottom of the well. It had taken longer to go in than the two steps Calian had used to get out, but when he looked back, the glimmer of light looked miles away.

7inch unhitched the tiny pony from the cart. "I wish you all well," he said, "no matter what you might think. But I have other business. No need for me to spend the day here waiting with you, hmmm?" He busied himself with the pony's straps. "There are still some of your people at the top of the well. You climb back in the bucket and shake the rope. They'll haul you up. That is what you want, hmmm? I'll leave you the candles. Try not to start a fire." He pointed the pony back down the tunnel. Without looking back he called, "Young princes, remember to guard the crowns! Young princesses, remember to wed in the crowns, hmmm?" Within seconds he was lost in the darkness of the tunnel.

With their guide gone, the young people discussed their exit. They decided to send the princesses up first, the oldest going first. Habeth climbed into the bucket, which thoughtfully expanded for her, tugged the silken cord, and up she went. Mornel followed, and with a lonely, wistful look at Calian, Guinna went last.

Thatele announced that the princes should go in the same 'oldest first' order, just as they had come in. He climbed into the bucket and left, followed by Gorbath. When Calian was alone, he remembered his promise to Guinna. Casting about for something to take his place, he spotted a loose stone in the well's wall. He pried it out of the wall, dumped it in the basket and gave the rope a shake. The pail and stone rose slowly into the darkness and then suddenly came crashing back down, smashing the bucket, cracking the stone, and cutting off Calian's only route of escape.

Lonely and alone, with the crown tucked inside his jacket, he stood for a moment, silently staring at the broken bucket. Then he turned and wandered slowly back down the tunnel toward the little speck of light and the only place he had.

This time it took him a whole day to reach the end.

With nowhere to go, Calian returned to the turf and thatch hut, passing through the first room, which was still a reception hall, and into the dining room. The ever-present feast was still laid on, and while 7inch was not to be seen, there is a note on one plate telling Calian to help himself.

Calian spent a day, then a week and then a month wandering the grounds around the hut. The food on the table was always fresh, delicious and never-ending, the rains were always in the evening after he had come in, and the grounds around the hut were large and covered with stone-paved walk ways and well-tended gardens, (though Calian never saw anyone tending them). The hut's front room nightly changed to a well-fitted bedroom with a thick feather bed. Calian spent his time eating, sleeping, walking, praying, thinking - and becoming lonely. He sometimes wandered outside the thorny hedge - but with no magic daggers or other weapons, he didn't wander far.

After a month of this peaceful existence, Calian was about to lose his mind.

One evening when he had shuffled into the dining room after another dreary evening stroll around the gardens, Calian sat morosely at table poking his food without really eating it. He sometimes looked up and glanced around the room, hoping to notice a change, and this night he was surprised to find something. He noticed a small silver snuff box sitting near the middle of the table, almost hidden amid the steaming, heavily laden bowls of vegetables and puddings. The box was a tiny thing, covered in a light pattern of filigree engravings of swirls and loops, some ending in tiny, perfectly made leaves. Calian had not seen the box before, and he knew that as often as he had looked, he would remember it. Knowing that nothing in this house was ever like it looked, he picked it up, slowly opened the lid and found - snuff!

"Well," asked 7inch walking in from the far door, "how do you like my little home and garden, hmmm?" The small creature jumped from the stone floor the empty wooden chair at the far end of the table, and then onto the table itself.

"Quite nice," answered Calian, closing the snuff box and setting it back on the table. "But I really should be getting back to my own home, you know. My family will think something dreadful has happened to me, and I should not like to be a source of sorrow to them."

"My hospitality has become tiresome, then, hmmm?"

"Oh, no, sir," replied Calian, always polite but also afraid to offend 7inch. "But I would like to return to my family."

"And your princess, I'll bet, hmmm? Well, we'll see. That snuff box you were snooping into, you should keep that. That's a present for you. Quite lovely isn't it, hmmm? When you get lonely for the company of old 7inch, you need only open it. You don't even have to take the snuff. Easy, hmmm?"

"Yes, sir. And thank you, sir."

"Now, since you have no appetite, why don't you take a late stroll along the garden path, the one with the carved hedges. That's my favorite. It's still some time till dark, and I doubt it will rain for a while. Perhaps I'll meet you there, hmmm?"

Calian smiled and nodded and pushed back from the table. He slipped the snuff box into his vest pocket and wandered out through the front room, which was a reception hall again. Outside he found the evening much as 7inch had said - the sun setting, the breeze dying away, clouds floating lazy from the west carrying a little rain but carrying it slowly and without menace. Calian wandered to the topiary section of the garden and meandered along its paths. He watched his feet as he walked, depressed. The carved hedges had grown too familiar to him. Hedge rabbits sniffed shyly at the evening air, unaware of hedge lions behind them, but the sight of them carried no charm for Calian.

Lost in his thoughts, Calian heard the ringing, banging noise for some time before he realized it didn't belong heard in the garden. Startled, he looked up to see a blacksmith's shop occupied by a strong and sooty farrier whanging away at the anvil. Instead of a garden path, Calian was standing in a dirt road; instead of artfully carved garden hedges, ancient oaks stood along the road in the gaps between weathered clapboard buildings and turf huts.

"You, there," calls the blacksmith in Calian's direction. "Do ya know anything of smithin'?"

When Calian realized the man was speaking to him, he answered, "No, sir. But I'm willing to learn."

"I'm not looking to take on an apprentice, mind you, but if you've a strong back to put to the bellows, you'll learn something of smithing and get a night's supper, too. How's that? You look like you could use it."

Frowning at that, Calian looked at himself. His clothes were dirtier and more ragged than he remembered, but they were the same clothes, including the same waist coat with the snuff box snug in its pocket. Slung over his shoulder was a leather bag he did not remember. Through its side, Calian could feel the triple crown 7inch had given him.

"Well?" called the farrier. "What say you?"

Calian smiled at the man. "It's the offer I've waited for the whole day. What town is this?"

"Traveling man, eh?" The farrier smiled broadly at him. "You'll need a big supper then. This is the village of Morna."

"Sounds like a nice place," Calian said. He laid his leather bag in a corner of the shop and grabbed the business end of the furnace's bellows.

Together the two slammed away at the steel, turning out a mound of horseshoes. When the light finally failed them, the smith slapped Calian on the shoulder and led him to the house. The supper table there was not laden was well as 7inch's, and when you ate the food did not come back, but to Calian it was the finest feast in many weeks. When the smith asked him to stay another day or two to help, Calian decided it would be a good idea. He enjoyed the activity, and he could use some time to learn how life had gone with his brothers and the princesses since he had last seen them. He agreed to work for food and shelter, and for whatever pay the smith decided was fair. With a hand shake on it, the two curled up in blankets by the fire.

The next morning the two returned to the shop. By dawn they had glowing steel on the anvil, by noon they were far enough ahead for Calian to try his hand at the hammer, and by late afternoon when the local tailor wandered by to gossip, they took a break to listen.

"I hear some needs a `town cryer' to spread the king's news," the smith told Calian. "Not us, not as long as we have this 'un."

If the tailor heard any of this, he didn't acknowledge it. He had bigger scenes to set, a larger tale to tell, and if his audience talked a little about him, well, he wasn't about to lose that audience.

"You all remember," started the tailor, "about how the young prince Calian was killed in the well on the other side of Guilden in that 'accident'?" He glanced around at his audience to see if any of them believed the 'accident' story. "And you know how the young princess Guinna refused all other suitors? And the older girls would not get married until she did?"

"Get to the point, man." "Ya. Who do ya think yer talkin' to, eh? Like we don't know, eh?"

But the tailor had a story, and he would not be rushed. "Well, what you might not know was that the girls changed their minds and didn't wish to wait for their baby sister. And they nagged King Karel into going along with it."

"Man, do ya think ye woke up in a new town?" "Who don't be knowin' that, eh?" "What's your point, ya long-winded foo'?"

"Now, I'm not sure I ever mentioned it, but I was called to the castle to help with the wedding gowns of the sisters."

"Did he mention it!" "Cor, has he mentioned anything else these past ten days, I'd like ta know!"

"Well, it was truly a grand affair," the tailor continued, deaf to the comments of his audience. "There were all the best people in the kingdom and from Galand. The princesses were more than simply regal; they had walked out of a fairy tale! (And my tailoring did them justice, too, I may add!) And the young princes of Galand - they were something from the great dragon slayer legends!

"There they were in the castle church, with the music, and the choir, and all the knights or Morna and Galand in their armor and their swords, and the maids in their gowns and veils and hats. Oh, the colors! And the sound of the silks and satins rustling in the pews! And the incense pouring up around the altar! The organ sounded, and the princes came marching splendidly down the aisle, their seconds and retainers with them. And then came young princess Guinna, being the ring bearer, beautiful as always and so sweet to help her sisters when she didn't have her own prince. And then the organ sounded even louder, and in came the princesses. King Karel led them down the aisle, marching in his armor and the princesses gliding along behind like beautiful swans in gowns that my own hand had worked!

"Well! They came down the aisle, and the King, he stepped to the side to stand with Guinna. The princesses breezed past him, with their ladies in waiting holding up the trains of the gowns and making the whole procession look like a lovely and stately ship under sail."

"Aye, and him the wind that's blowing it!" "Move it along, tailor!" "We'll all miss our suppers waitin' on you an' your tale!"

"The princesses swept down the aisle," continued the tailor, with a far away look in his eye. "And they picked up their crowns from tables and they went by them. And they met up with the princes. And they took their arm. And they started toward the priest...."

"Yes?" "And then?"

"And then the floor of the church collapsed under them! Down they fell, the four of them, into the catacombs beneath the church floor! They landed in the old musty graves, armor and crowns and my lovely gowns and all!"

The tailor's audience had nothing to say. He held the silence for a moment, enjoying it to the full.

"Oh," he finally continued, "they weren't hurt. Not bad. They were a little bruised, and they were a lot filthy, covered with spider webs and dirt and who knows what fungus and mold that lived in those old caverns. And there was no dignity left in them after they were hauled back up into the church, I can tell you."

"And King Karel and Princess Guinna?" asked Calian from the back.

"Oh, they were fine." The tailor waved away the question. "No one went into the pit but the would-be brides and grooms. And I say 'would-be' because King Karel cancelled the weddings. He said the accident was a sign, a pronouncement that there should be no wedding until the crowns belonging to Guinna are located or constructed, and a suitable groom found for her, and all three wed on the same day! The princes and lords of Galand were so shook by the whole event, they didn't argue but agreed to delay the wedding."

The tailor stopped to enjoy the effect of his tale. The villagers were an excitable lot when they got a story like this, and they were making much of it among themselves. Calian stood quietly in the back, watching the tailor. He could tell the little man had one more chapter to give.

When he felt he had let them talk long enough, the tailor broke in again. "So," he said, as if he had never stopped talking, "King Karel has announced he will give Guinna in marriage to any man who can construct or produce an identical copy of the crowns the other princesses wore in the wedding procession. The crown must match exactly, and Guinna will wear it when they all march down the aisle together. That's his offer - copy the crown, win a princess!" The tailor looked as triumphant as if he had a princess of his own to offer.

If the tale of the wedding had caused some talk, the announcement of the offer caused much talk! Sensing the tale was finished, the villagers wandered away in twos and threes to discuss and analyze this event, the way people will do.

"What do you think?" Calian asked the smith as they walked back to the anvil. "You going to try to make a crown?"

"Oh, not me," he said. He laughed and pulled on a worn glove. "No horse I know uses silver shoes. I know nothing of silver-smithing or working gold, and there's none of either around here." He picked up his hammer.

Calian said nothing. On the outside he looked to be concentrating on his work, helping the blacksmith and learning the way of hot iron. On the inside, however, he was planning. He made him a plan that had to be twisted and tweaked to bring all the risk on him. And when it was supper time, he told his plan to the smith.

The blacksmith was outraged. "This is the thanks I get for taking a stranger into my house?" he yelled. "Crazy plans to bring the king's anger on me?" But the young prince persisted, explained that the man was in no danger, that all the blame would be on Calian if the scheme failed.

"But you're no smith!" the man told him. "You told me so the first day, and you've looked clumsy enough in my forge! I would hate to see you strung up for angering the king."

"Ah, but faint heart never won fair lady," Calian answered. "I may not know smithing, but I know what I know. I'll do my part if you will do yours. And no matter how it goes, think of the tale you will have to tell the next time the tailor comes to spread his stories!"

Calian would not let it go, and the smith finally agreed to sleep on it, and then to think on it the next day, and on the next day, he agreed to it.

The next morning the blacksmith scrubbed himself, and at dawn he left on foot for the castle Morna. At noon he returned, riding a wagon, looking shocked, and accompanied by a six heavily armed guards. The blacksmith looked nervously around the empty shop when he came in, and the guards brushed past him. They made a quick check of the shop, hauled in a wooden chest, which they set carefully down on a work bench, and then left. They fanned out to the doors and windows of the shop and stood to guard.

"Oh, Lord," moaned the blacksmith. "Did that young feller play a trick on me?"

"Are they gone?", whispered a voice.

The blacksmith crossed himself. "Who's that?"

"Shhh!" hissed Calian, crawling from under a mound of trash where he had been hiding. "Are the guards still close?"

"Set up at every door and window."

"Fine. Did you do as I said?"

The smith nodded. "And I'm still amazed by it all. I asked for audience with the king about the crowns. Even though it was gentle King Karel, I was nervous, I can tell you, and it took me long to stutter out my message. But I told him, I came as spokesman for a highly skilled whitesmith. I asked for a quarter-pound of gold, a quarter-pound of silver, a quarter-pound of copper and the use of one crown for one night as a model, that it may be that the whitesmith had never seen these types of crowns, and would like to have a look at one before he spent the night making it. I offered to feed as many guards as he cared to send along, though how I'm to eat next week if I feed them is beyond me."

"And did he ask about me?"

"He did. Wanted to know why you had not presented this offer yourself, and if you asked for anything else. I told him just as you said, that the challenge was to make the crown. 'The whitesmith wants you to decide the matter based on his work, and not to be swayed, for or against him, by the sight of him.' Oh, didn't that cause a stir! There's some think you're an ancient hunchback covered in string warts, or some other misshapen creature. But King Karel agreed to it! You have one day, he said. 'The crown must be ready in the morning,' the king said, 'or the whitesmith loses his head, no matter what it looks like!' That's the king's exact words. Young feller, you gonna get us both killed?"

Calian smiled and shook his head. "You go to the house," he told the smith. "You've got a lot of extra mouths to feed. While you were gone to the castle, I took what coins I had left and bought some chickens and potatoes. Fix you and these guards a good supper. Let me worry about the crown, and let me work alone."

The smith was so surprised by the first part of the day that he hardly thought about this part. He told Calian that he would pray for him as he cooked. The shop had no lock on the door, so when the smith left, Calian set the anvil against the door to keep out snoopers.

Now, Morna is not so large that a sight like six guards at a blacksmith's shop would go unnoticed. By the time the smith started for his house, there was a crowd of idlers hanging around. They swarmed to the smith when he walked out the door, a dozen at once asking what the problem was.

"There's no problem," answered the smith. "The young man what's been helping me these past few days is going to make a crown for the king. These gentlemen with the spears are to make sure no one interferes with him. You should all go mind your own work." The smith pushed his way through the crowd and walked to his house.

But if he thought this explanation would be enough for his neighbors, he was much mistaken. There was now no way that they would leave his front door. Word spread quickly around the little collection of huts, and more people came to see what the young fool was doing and what trouble would come from it.

From inside the shop there came occasional sounds of a hammer banging iron or pounding a board, or a saw rasping through wood, or a file grating against metal. It was Calian fooling around with the tools in the shop, making it sound like some one working. But he used all kinds of tools and made all kinds of noises, and none of the idlers in the street could figure out what he was doing. Occasionally he would use a chisel to knock off little pieces of the gold, silver and copper bars the king had sent him. These he would fling out through cracks in the window shutters, as though they were scraps he was finished with. This made the crowd even more curious, made them gossip about the young man even more, made them scramble for the scrap metal (which they knew to be gold and silver). They cheered Calian on and those who came up with scraps of gold would pray aloud for his good fortune.

Calian kept this racket and ruckus going all through the day and the night. Sometimes after dark he would fire the furnace up very brightly so the people would think he was melting something, and once he stopped the whole business to eat some bread and cheese he had stored in the shop.

Finally, just at sunrise the next morning, he moved the anvil away from the door, slowly slid it open and walked into the street carrying a crown in each hand - the one brought from the castle, and the one he had carryied in his bag since he left 7inch.

The crowd broke into loud cheers all around (none louder than the blacksmith), and Calian threw the remaining gold, copper and silver, which he had cut into small pieces, into the crowd to get them away from the door. As the people scrambled over the wealth, he turned the crowns over to the guards, and asked the blacksmith to escort the treasures to the castle. As the smith and guards left, he stumbled off to the house for a much needed nap.

When the crowns arrived at the castle, Karel and his advisors were flabbergasted. The King demanded to know about the smith who made the third crown, but the poor frightened blacksmith could honestly say that he knew nothing about the lad except that he wandered up to his door a few days earlier and that he was a hard worker.

"Majesty," announced one of the king's counselor's, "I cannot tell which is the model and which is the new crown. This craftsman has passed the test."

King Karel sighed inside. He would never admit it, but part of him had hoped that this challenge would postpone the marriages for many years to come. "Call Guinna," he finally said. "Let her see the crowns. The decision is hers."

"But your Majesty, you have announced -"

"Marriage is forever. I will not send my daughter into it without her permission!" King Karel cut the counselor off. "Bring her here. Let her see the work. Let her decide."

Guinna was summoned to the throne room, and came immediately. The counselor held out the crowns to her and began an explanation. The princess waved a hand to stop him. She recognized the crown. It was too identical not to be the one she had left with Calian. She did not know how he had done it, but she knew the young prince was somewhere in Morna.

"This will do," she told her father.

"But Guinna, we know nothing of the man who made it. This man here brought the crown, but no one in court has seen the smith."

Guinna smiled. "And he didn't bother to come look at me before he made it. If he went to this much trouble to marry a princess, he should marry a princess." She hated to keep the story from her father, but she decided that if Calian had not announced himself, he must have a good reason, and so she would not let anyone know that she knew him.

With the same hollow sinking he had felt when the Galand princes first arrived, King Karel called for Gorbath. He asked the prince to take a carriage, return the blacksmith to his home and bring the crown-maker to the castle. Pretending he was glad to help, Gorbath motioned for the blacksmith to follow him.

"What news," asked Thatele in the hallway.

"We will be married soon," Gorbath answered. "Some unknown craftsman has made a duplicate crown. And now I am to run off like an errand boy to bring this handy fellow back to the castle." Gorbath spat. Thatele giggled. The blacksmith wanted to go home, but said nothing.

Ordering the blacksmith to ride on top with the driver, Gorbath climbed into the carriage. The blacksmith was only too happy not to sit with the grouchy prince, and when he had climbed on the seat, off they went. The trip did nothing to improve Gorbath's mood, and when they arrived at the shop he stomped up to the door.

"Let's go!" he cried into the shop.

His leather bag slung over his shoulder, and a little extra soot smeared onto his face and hair so he would look worse, Calian came to the door. He smiled. Gorbath looked like he wanted to bite something - hard.

"You the smith who made the crowns?"

Calian nodded.

"The king wants you." Gorbath turned on his heel and stomped back to the carriage. Making a dash around him, Calian got to it first and jumped into the seat. He waved to his brother to climb in.

Gorbath stopped. If he had not wanted to impress King Karel (and if his disguised brother had not been so covered with soot), he would have pulled the filthy upstart smith out of the carriage and left him in the dirt of the roadway. Instead, he kicked the carriage door closed and silently climbed onto the front of the carriage with the driver. 'Anything beats being trapped inside with that upstart,' he thought. He spent the ride home thinking of ways to get Karel to run the smith out of Morna.

Meanwhile, Calian struggled not to laugh out loud. Prince or no prince, there was nothing like tormenting an older brother! However, Calian was not ready to go to the castle, especially when he knew his brother would make it hard on him when he got there. Reaching into his leather bag, Calian pulled out his snuff box and opened it.

"Some problem, young prince?" 7inch sat on the edge of the carriage seat beside Calian, swinging his heels.

"Yes, please," Calian answered. "I'd like to be transported back to the blacksmith's shop, if you can do that."

"That all?" 7inch cocked his head to the side to look at Calian.

The young prince thought for a moment. "Well, I wouldn't want my brother to get in trouble for not bringing something back."

----------

When the carriage pulled over the drawbridge into the castle Morna, Gorbath hopped down immediately. King Karel would ask why he had ridden on the outside, and the prince didn't want to talk about it. He stepped quickly to the carriage door as King Karel and his counselors walked up.

The king and his court gathered around the door of the carriage, all dressed in fine satins and lace, ready to greet this stranger. "Well," said Karel, "let us meet our new son-in-law."

"Your majesty," replied Gorbath, and with a flourish of his left arm, he grandly swung open the door.

Out of the carriage poured mounds and mounds of fresh horse manure. This was the "something" Calian had asked 7inch to leave in his place, and baskets of it tumbled out onto the king and his counselors, covering frilly vests and satin stockings and shiny buttoned shoes.

Gorbath was so shocked he could do nothing but stand with the open door in his hand and stare at the filth-covered nobles.

"He was in the carriage, your majesty! He was! I don't know how this happened."

King Karel stared silently at the prince. He called out the name of one of his counselors. "Ask this one's brother to meet me in my chambers," he said, and without a word to Gorbath, he turned and strode into the castle.

---------

An hour later Thatele was bouncing over the uneven roads of Morna on his way to pick up the crown-maker. He had seen the look on King Karel's face, had smelled the clothes taken from the King's bedroom, and had talked briefly to his brother. Thatele did not know what had happened, but he wanted no part of it and he wanted no part of this errand to fetch the smith. He did not like being sent on jobs, and this same job had apparently made a fool of his brother.

When he arrived, he was rougher with Calian than his brother had been. He also refused to ride inside the carriage, claiming he had no wish to be inside when the smith returned to his normal manure-like condition. Instead, he rode with the driver, but he watched the carriage doors closely to make sure Calian did not escape again. Again Calian called on the resourceful 7inch, asked for transport back to the smithshop and to be replaced with a carriage full of water. With a deep bow (well, deep for some one less than a foot high), 7inch granted this desire and disappeared.

When the carriage arrived at the castle, Thatele assured Karel there was no problem. He had watched the carriage doors and the smith, who stank too bad for the prince to ride with, was still inside. With a flourish and a snotty remark to the passenger, he opened the carriage door - this time thoroughly washing down Karel and his counselors.

Without a word to anyone, King Karel decided he had depended too long on these princes. Ordering up two carriages and a large body of guards, he rode off to fetch the lad himself. The King had only seen the lad the one evening and morning, and did not recognize the prince who came sooty and smiling to the door. Karel was unimpressed with this master crown-maker, but he waved Calian into the lead carriage, ordered several guards to ride on the outside, and followed in his coach so he could watch the other carriage.

With a sense of relief, Calian again pulled the snuff box from his pocket. This time he asked 7inch for a way to clean the soot off himself, for some appropriate clothes and for a peace offering to give the king. 7inch waved that tiny, powerful hand and Calian found himself suddenly scrubbed and dressed in the finest of fashion. 7inch took the snuff box, opened it himself, poked around in the fine dust for a moment and picked up a single grain of snuff buried halfway inside the box. He stuffed that grain in his vest pocket and returned the box to Calian.

"As far as a peace offering goes," he says, "the snuff box will no longer call me. It's nice enough, it should do as a present, hmmm? You no longer need my help, young prince, and though we will probably meet again, it will be on more social terms than one or the other summoning help. If you are ever in my land again, remember I always have a warm bed and full plate for a traveler. And so should you, hmmm?"

Calian thanked him politely and profusely, and the little visitor vanished from the coach.

When the carriages arrived, Calain emerged as himself much to the shock of his brothers, the confusion of Karel and his court, and the relief of the counselors from Galand. But it was no surprise to the youngest princess. Within days, Calain and Guinna married. They lived happily, with as much love and devotion to each other and their vows as ever any couple in any story ever told, and the older brothers and sisters are as crabby and miserable in their lives together as you imagine such people to be.