The Snake’s Wife

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I was out in the woods when the king of Therete and his son came to ask for my sister.

My hunting had been interrupted by a rainshower, and I sat under a tree on the hillside waiting for it to end when I heard horsemen on the road below. I rose, brushing away wet leaves, and quietly made my way forward so I could see. There were nearly a hundred of them, horses in brightly colored trappings, yellow and green and red, riders in gold-colored armor hunched over against the rain. I watched until they disappeared around the curve of the hill and then stood wondering whether I should stay out, and out of the way of whatever would happen when those horsemen reached the gates of the town, or whether I was curious enough to go home and see what they wanted.

A fresh spate of raindrops showered down and I looked up. Draped on a branch overhead lay a snake, brown and gold scaled, its coiled body as broad as my arm. It stared at me unblinking, head raised, tongue flickering. “Hail, Benefactor, generous and blessed,” I murmured, because you never know with snakes. And this one shouldn’t have been out in the cold rain.

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