Читать книгу SPLINTERS OF FAIRY TALES: DRAGON’S STAR CLAW - Э. Григ - Страница 3

The Prince and Jorro entered the wide square.

“Is there really no way out of this place?” asked the shocked Prince.

“What can I tell you…” drawled Jorro. “Some people think that there is… But so far no one has managed to get out. Here we are!” Jorro pointed to the sign. It showed a plump girl in a cloak with a red hood, hugging a wolf tightly. The wolf's muzzle was so tense, as if he was not too happy about the hug. The Prince read: “Red Hood.” At the bottom there was a note: “Discount for Wolves.”

“Everyone who doesn’t have his own home lives here,” Jorro explained.

The Prince and Jorro went inside. Strong guys were playing some kind of game with boards and wooden figures at the table in the corner. They turned around, glanced briefly at those who entered, and went back to playing.

“Lumberjacks and carpenters,” Jorro explained quietly, smiling. “The biggest success for Talestone in recent times. They promised to make us a new gate… And here comes the Hood!”

A short woman in a scarlet dress with a neckline decorated with lace came out to meet the Prince and Jorro. Despite her plumpness, she moved smoothly and even gracefully. Her black curly hair was styled in an intricate updo, topped with a tiny red cap.

“This is Little Red Riding Hood,” Jorro whispered. “But she prefers not to be called by her full name. “You have another guest, Hood!” he shouted cheerfully.

“I see,” the woman said in a melodious voice. “Is he the new highness? What bad luck…”

“Our Hood doesn’t really favor monarchs,” Jorro explained with a smile.

“Why should we love them?” Hood immediately jumped up. “All these kings and princes never help grass roots! Hard workers are another pair of shoes!” she smiled at one of the guys sitting in the corner. He answered her with a good-natured grimace.

“You know that in some fairy tales, poor people receive help from kings and princes…” Jorro began carefully.

“I myself have never been in such fairy tales!” Hood snapped. “However,” she softened slightly, “the new highness looks very attractive.” Well,” Hood clapped her hands, “I take one golden taledor a week from everyone.”

Jorro grunted barely audibly and shook his head, as if surprised at such greed.

“And for this,” said Hood, raising her voice, “you get a roof over your head, a bed and as many hot pies as you can eat.”

“Here, take this,” Jorro took out a gold coin from a greasy wallet, put it in Hood’s hand and turned to the young man. “This is a little help.”

“I have money!” the Prince objected. “I’m now…”

“Your money is no good here. Exchange it and then you’ll give it back…”

Hood carefully examined the crudely minted gold coin. The coin had a large "T" on it.

“Don’t you trust even the guards?” Jorro asked with a sly smile.

“You’ll be careful here,” Hood grumbled. “When everyone is not who they seem…

“Yes, yes, even your own grandmother,” Jorro sighed. “Well, we'll go. I'll show him the town.”

“Thank you, dear hostess.”

“Everyone calls me Hood,” the woman muttered.

“Now you have a home,” Jorro said as he and the Prince walked out onto the porch. “Not a royal palace, of course,” he added, “but better than wandering through the forest…”

The Prince and Jorro crossed the square and turned into a narrow street.

“Here's the store. Get your money out.”

“Ixchange at Wolf’s. En fairnes, borgaening is enapropriate,” the Prince read. “Listen, don’t you think it’s written somehow… wrong?” asked the young man.

“Just don’t tell Wolf about this,” Jorro warned. “He wrote it himself. Have you ever seen a literate wolf? No? Here you go. Holding a quill in the paws is not at all easy.”

Jorro pushed the door and the Prince felt as if he was back in the forest. There were green curtains, wooden shelving and small coniferous trees in tubs. Through the twilight, the Prince saw forest landscapes and portraits on the walls. He took a closer look and was surprised to realize that all the portraits depicted wolves. The young man was ready to swear that the wolves had different expressions on their muzzles. They looked proud, or like villains, or cunning, or stupid.

“Do you like my gallery?” the Prince heard a hoarse voice behind him.

The young man turned around and saw a wolf walking towards him on its hind legs. Wolves can rarely be called well-groomed, but this wolf looked exactly like that. His shiny fur was carefully combed, hair by hair. The wolf was dressed in a blue and gold satin vest, and had glasses on his nose. A magic magnifying glass was stuck out of his vest pocket.

“Have you never seen a wolf with glasses before, Your Highness?” the Wolf asked defiantly.

“No, never…” muttered the young man, confused by the Wolf’s question and insight at the same time. Surprisingly, all citizens immediately understood that he was a prince.

“Golden frame,” said the Wolf smugly. “Made by wizards on special order.”

“And you look very respectable in them.” Much better than in the old lady’s glasses,” Jorro said with a smile.

The wolf let out a short, dissatisfied roar.

“I was joking,” Jorro raised his hands in conciliation. “We’re here to make an exchange.”

“Does the Prince have money from his fairy tale?” the Wolf asked in a businesslike tone.

“You are right,” answered Jorro.

“Put your money here!” the Wolf pointed his paw at the massive counter.

The Prince laid out two heavy wallets. The Wolf untied the wallet, took out one coin, carefully gnawed it with strong snow-white fangs, looked at it from all sides, and then threw it onto a small scale. He thought about it, put his paw to his mouth, shook his head and took out a magic magnifying glass from his vest pocket. Having carefully examined the coin through a magnifying glass, the Wolf said:

“Taledor for three!”

“What are you talking about, Wolf!” Jorro answered indignantly. “Give two at least.”

“No way,” the Wolf said firmly. “There is very little gold in these coins.”

“Our kingdom is not very rich,” the Prince explained, embarrassed.

“You see,” the Wolf pointed at the Prince with his clawed paw. “And if he were from a rich kingdom, I would offer him the best rate.”

The Wolf poured out all the money from the wallets, quickly counted them, then returned the coins back and walked away with dignity, taking the wallets with him. He soon returned, carrying in his paws two small black bags, on which was the stamp "Talestone Mint."

“Your golden taledors,” the Wolf announced, handing over one bag. “And small dwarf coins,” he held out the second one.

“Dwarf coins?” the Prince was surprised.

“The dwarves themselves came up with the name. They’re a little vain,” Jorro smiled.

The Wolf waited impatiently for them to finish chatting, looking from one to the other. Finally, he bowed slightly and pointed his paw expressively at the door. The Prince and Jorro realized it was time to leave.