Джон Адамс - The Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy 2019

“Oh, yes, that’s a lovely idea,” said Fourth Daughter. She sat nearby with a book on her lap, ready to read him a tale. “At least ten or twenty of them, just to be sure. They should be large, strong men, warrior-tempered. That way you can be sure of healthy breeding and a fine spirit in the child.”

The king frowned at this, shifting uneasily in his seat at his daughters’ suggestions. “I cannot say I like that idea,” he said at last. “The guards would talk. Any child that resulted would be dogged by scandal her whole life.”

“Then kill the guards,” said Fifth Daughter, rubbing his temples with gentle musician’s fingers. “That’s the only way to be certain.”

“And after all,” added Youngest Daughter again, “who is to say the child will be a her ? Perhaps we might gain a brother!”

This was a notion Paramenter had not considered, and with that thought, all his concerns vanished amid excitement. To have a son at last! And though it rankled that some common guard would be the father, the fact that no one would know eased that small ignominy.

As Paramenter began to smile, his daughters looked at one another and smiled as well.

So Paramenter gave the order, sending his wife to a country house along with twenty of his loyal guard for a suitable length of time. When they brought her back and the physician confirmed her pregnancy, he had the guards quietly killed, then ordered another kingdomwide celebration. His wife no longer seemed to have a mind, but Paramenter did not care so much, as this relieved him of the necessity of visiting her. At least she never spoke against his beloved daughters again.

You have guessed the ending of this tale, I see. That is well and fine, and I am not surprised; evil is easy to spot, or so we all think. Shall I stop? It isn’t my purpose to bore you.

Very well, then. Just a little more.

But first, might we have some refreshment? One’s throat grows parched with tale-telling, and I’m hungry as well. A late-season wine, if you have it. And meat, rare. Yes, I suppose this is presumptuous of me, but we dead-speakers know: there’s no telling when some folly might come along and end everything. One must enjoy life while it lasts.

If it is not even more presumptuous—will you share my meal? Such rich salts, such savory sweets. It would give me great pleasure to watch them cross your fine lips.

When Paramenter’s daughters reached their sixteenth year, noblemen from many lands began paying visits to Sosun. Word had spread widely of the girls’ beauty, and also of their accomplishment in other respects. Fifth Daughter could outplay any bard on any instrument; Second Daughter’s dancing won praise from masters throughout the land. His fourth girl was an accomplished scholar whose writings were the talk of the colleges. His third and youngest girls were renowned for their beauty, and so graceful, witty, and perfect was Eldest Daughter that his advisers had begun quietly suggesting she be allowed to inherit, despite generations of tradition.

Paramenter received his daughters’ suitors with justifiable pride, carefully choosing among them to ensure only the best for his treasures. But here he was stymied, for as he began presenting his selection to the girls, they became uncharacteristically obstinate.

“He won’t do,” said Youngest Daughter, on beholding a fine young man. Paramenter was dismayed, for the youth had arrived with a chest of treasure equivalent to the youngest daughter’s weight, but being a doting father, he abided by her choice.

“Unsuitable,” declared Third Daughter, right in the face of a handsome duke. That one had brought a bag of gemstones selected to match her eyes, but with a sigh, Paramenter turned him away.

After the third such incident, in which his second daughter declared the crown prince of a rival kingdom “too small and pale,” Paramenter’s eldest girl came to visit him. With her came Paramenter’s son, the rosy-cheeked child of his wife and her guards, who was now six years old.

“You must understand, Father,” Eldest Daughter explained. She sat at his feet, gazing up at him adoringly. At her feet, Paramenter’s son sat watching his sister in the same manner. “Wealth and rank are such poor ways to judge a man’s suitability. We have both already, after all. So it would make sense for our husbands to bring a little something more to the table.”

“Like what?”

“Strength,” she said. She reached down to stroke the boy’s wine-dark hair, and gave him a doting smile. “We desire strength, naturally. What else could any true woman crave in a man?”

This Paramenter understood. So he dismissed the first crop of suitors and sent new missives forth: each kingdom which desired an alliance with Sosun should send its greatest warrior to represent its interests.

Presently the new suitors arrived. They were a dangerous, uncouth crowd, for all that most were decorated soldiers in their respective armies. When the men had gathered in the palace’s garden, the sisters arrived to look them over.

“Much better,” said Third Daughter.

“Quite,” said Fourth, and as each of her sisters gave a favorable verdict, First Daughter nodded and stepped forward. She put her hands on her hips.

“Thank you for coming, gentlemen,” she said. “Now, so that we may waste no further time, I shall explain our terms. We are sisters, raised as one; therefore we have decided to marry at the same time.”

The men nodded. The advisers of their respective kingdoms had prepared them for this.

“We would prefer to marry one man, as well.”

At this the men started, looking at one another in confusion.

Then First Daughter ducked her eyes, looking up at them through her lashes, and tilted her head to one side. “One of you,” she said, “can have all six of us in his bed at once. We will obey your every whim, submit to your every desire, and you will be pleased with us; of that you may be sure. But only one of you may receive this reward.”

Turning away, she smiled at her sisters, and they smiled back, as one. Then they walked away, though Youngest Daughter paused at the door to blow the men a kiss.

The bloodbath that followed killed off the best warriors of seventeen kingdoms and left ten more of the men maimed and useless for life. King Paramenter was hard-pressed to placate his fellow rulers, and the coffers of Sosun were sharply depleted by compensatory payments.

But the daughters had what they wanted. The warrior who survived the battle royal was a mountainous beast of a man, one-eyed and half literate, though possessed of great cunning and courage. The sisters doted on him as they had their father, and though his advisers shook their heads and the priests grumbled into their tea, Paramenter gave his blessing on the unorthodox union.

One month later his daughters all happily announced that they were with child. A month after that, their husband, whose name Paramenter had never bothered to learn, died in an unfortunate fall from the bower balcony.

So it came to pass that in the thirtieth year of Paramenter’s reign, a miracle occurred: a male dragon was spotted at last. Though Paramenter was getting on in years, he had never quite given up his hope of true manhood. His second wife had killed herself in the interim, but he was still hale enough to get a few more sons on some nubile girl. Donning his sword and armor once more, Paramenter rode forth.

After many months of travel, they found the beast. Paramenter was startled to see that this dragon, unlike the huge, deadly female he’d killed so long ago, was small and put-upon, with an anxious demeanor and deep mournful eyes. His men killed it easily, but fearful of the consequences, this time Paramenter had the heart cured to preserve it, then carried it back to Sosun uneaten. There he gave it to his wizard to examine.