The Bet

"A tower!"  What other deceptions this "castle" had yet to reveal?

"Time to find out." he muttered as he tied his horse out of sight.

From the edge of the forest, he watched the lone tower rising in the distance. Whitewashed, it shined in the afternoon sun. It stood three stories tall, but it could hardly withstand an attack. 

Rumors were the boyar hid inside it his simple daughter and weak son. 

The peddler's cloak should gain him entrance, and the glittering shoes ought to be the right bait for a shallow mind.

A large door enforced with iron opened when he neared the tower.  A well-placed fist was sufficient to knock senseless the servant unfortunate enough to open it. He entered the dark corridor weaving between a score of storerooms to a narrow staircase. His mind already gauged how deadly the corridor would be for trespassers.

If the storerooms seemed well suited for both storage and defense, the upper floors offered a comfortable living and, he found, little protection. He not only passed undisturbed but someone helped him to find his way to the young mistress' quarters.

He knocked at the door then he opened his arms wide in greeting and plastered his most guileless smile on his face. His plan to draw the simpleminded woman to the bottom of the staircase was...

"A big mistake." he finished his thought when the door opened and he felt the knife at his throat.   

The rustle of cloth on the floor told him the glittering slippers would be useless now.

"You're not so simple..."

She increased the pressure of the blade and hissed:

"Don't breathe a word of this to anyone"

She then released him and asked:
"How much did you bet with my father?"

"Two years." he answered ruefully.