The Incorporated Knight (20 page)

             
"Not bad! Count to a hundred, Majesty, ere ye guzzle, to see if your faithful jester be writhing in his death throes or hath already expired. Now, Sir Eudoric! Ere we accept your bona fides, explain why King Clothar should send a lone foreigner to discuss matters of such pith and moment, in lieu of a proper envoy with escort and credentials?"

             
Cautiously, Eudoric said: "Brulard, the minister, apprehended that such an embassy were likely to rouse the Duke of Dorelia's suspicions and lead to my detention, or worse. Therefore my credentials, now in the custody of your customs officer, say nought of my present mission;
merely that I am a harmless gentleman seeking to extend his stagecoach routes and requesting kindly treatment by the powers through whose lands I pass."

             
"What is a stagecoach?"

             
Eudoric explained. The jester cocked his head, so that his bells gave a brief tinkle, and studied his visitor. "Dost truly wish to extend this service to Armoria?"

             
"I must first discover whether an extension to Letitia be possible and profitable; it was for this that I set out from my homeland. I fear the roads betwixt Ysness and Letitia be mostly tracks, wide enough for a horse or mule but not for the wheels of a vehicle. Improvements were costly; so, perchance, this were a project for the future."

             
Corentin gave a disdainful sniff. "It sounds like an impractical device. I am sure no Armorian gentleman would ride in one unless he were too old or ill to mount his mettlesome steed."

             
Eudoric changed the subject. "Pray, Sir Jester, tell me of the curious sacrifice of maiden to monster, whereof I've been told. Is this true?"

             
"Aye; mean ye the witch Yolanda? She came hither feigning a mission like unto yours; but we soon discovered she sought to cast a spell upon His Majesty—" (Corentin glanced at the King, who had finished his bottle and fallen asleep on his throne) "—and thus to seize the rule of Armoria. Clothar no doubt dispatched his sister upon this treasonous quest and not to talk of trade in wine and perry. Therefore are we wary of compacts with King Clothar. What proof canst give that ye be not about to hatch some similar stratagem?" The jester wagged a finger as if beating time, then burst into verse:

"In matters of state

We trust not the great;

They do as they choose,

And torts they excuse

By saying in joke:

'
'Tis good for our folk'!"

-

             
The pause gave Eudoric time to formulate a reply. He spread his hands. "You see that I am but one man, alone save for my squire. So I could not attack your kingdom by force, however nefarious my intentions, even had I the might of Sigvard Dragonslayer. On the other hand, I have no magical powers whatever."

             
"How know we that ye have no occult capabilities?"

             
Eudoric shrugged. "How
can
a wight prove that he have no wizardly skills? If I falsely claimed such abilities, you could demand a demonstration. But when I claim
not
to possess them
...
well, Sir Jester, you see for yourself."

             
"A neat philosophical point, Sir Eudoric," said Corentin. "Let me ponder it
...
"

             
"Meanwhile," said Eudoric, "pray tell me, when is the maiden to be sacrificed?"

             
"Three days hence. Wouldst buy a seat on one of my benches?"

             
"Perhaps. Has not His Majesty offered a reward for him who slays the monster?"

             
"Indeed he hath. Wouldst attempt that feat yourself?"

             
"I came not to Armoria with that thought in mind; but still, the prospect tempts me. What is this reward?"

             
"The traditional guerdon, as ye know, is the hand of the maiden and half of the kingdom. Alas, the realm is already bespoke by His Majesty's heir, his nephew Prince Pater
n
; but the hand of the Princess Yolanda, the maid in question, is yours—if the twain of you survive."

             
"Not so swiftly!" said Eudoric with a wry grin. "How know you that I be able and willing to wed? Or that the maid and I should find each other pleasing?"

             
" Tis the lot of youthful princes and princesses to be wedded all the time to others of their rank, regardless of their personal liking. And good my sir, ye think not, I trust, that we would let the baggage go free as a masterless enchantress? Should ye both survive, ye
shall
wed, like it or not. If either balk, we will clap you up until silence and solitude do soften your obduracy.

             
"I confess that King Gwennon and I, his minister, find ourselves in a somewhat difficult strait. Albeit we most earnestly wish to rid ourselves of the monster, we would not wish to make a mortal foe of King Clothar, when he hath taken the primary step towards reconciliation. Yet we most particularly will not leave this dangerous, presumptuous enchantress at large within our kingdom."

             
"What makes you think that wedding the dame to me would render her less dire?"

             
"First, as a husband, ye could call upon the law if need be to keep her under discipline. Second, 'tis widely known that enjoyment of amorous intimacies doth diminish magical powers. Third and lastly, if ye slay the monster, we shall know that ye be a man of such might and valor that ye can easily master this forward wench." Corentin changed to a wheedling tone. "Besides, Sir Eudoric, methinks ye'd leap at a chance to marry into a royal house that vaunts itself the greatest in the world, notwithstanding that others dispute the claim. Why, with the adroitness ye've already displayed in your dealings with us, ye'd soon be a duke, or at least a count!"

             
"That is as may be," said Eudoric. "At least, if I vanquish this merdragon, you'd have your proof that I am no wizard."

             
"How so?"

             
"Who, facing a deadly peril, would eschew the use of magic to save himself, if he possessed such power?"

             
Corentin snorted. "Ye are too shrewd by half! If ye survive, we had better hustle you out of the kingdom forthwith, lest ye scheme it away from us! If it transpire that ye do but cozen us with crafty lies, yonder stands the cure!" He nodded towards the headsman and intoned:

"If
a varlet be hanged, the rope may break;

If shot at with bolts, the aim may miss;

A tempest may save him when burned at stake;

But no man survives the ax's kiss!"

-

             
Corentin brayed one of his raucous laughs. Eudoric looked doubtful, saying: "I had no intention of wiving. Until now I have fared well enough without a wifely fardel." It was a flat lie, he knew, but he made it sound convincing.

             
"Dis take you!" cried Corentin. "What more wouldst have, besides the hand of a rich and mighty ruler's sister? The moon? Or Maglaun's ever-filled purse?"

             
"A thousand Franconian marks, or the equal in your coin, would suffice."

             
Corentin gave a falsetto shriek, jerking his head so that all his bells jangled. "A thousand! Art mad, like a buck hare in spring? Ye'd clean out the treasury, as would a horde of mice do in a granary. Between the princess and the fame that will accrue to you from the feat, ye need nought more. No Franconian nobleman would bargain in this base commercial vein."

             
Eudoric smiled. "I am no Franconian. Permit me to remind you that, if the princess be devoured, you will never get a treaty with King Clothar, no matter how beneficial to your sovran and his realm."

             
Corentin uttered a word in Armorian that Eudoric did not recognize but guessed to be an obscenity. The jester said: "Well then, we will offer ten golden Armorian crowns. The crown weighs a trifle less than the mark."

             
"Ten? Good my jester, this is one of your better jokes. Ten would scarce support our return to the Empire. Make it nine hundred, then."

             
"Ridiculous! I will offer twenty, and not a sesterce more."

             
"Then I fear I must return to Letitia empty-handed
...
"

             
An hour later, they had settled for one hundred Armorian crowns. The jester said: "Ye wite, ye shall have the full amount only if the beast be slain. If ye do but send it fleeing wounded, ye shall have but the half, since we know not whether it will return anon."

             
"Very well, Sir Jester. And now for the means. I must have my sword, if you will kindly command these border guards to return it to me; but one weapon seems hardly adequate. In the royal arsenal, is there a dart-throwing catapult that I might borrow?"

             
"Catapults? Nay, sir; we manly Armorians use them not. The effete Franconians may resort to such ignoble gins mechanical; but we are true men—-" (he thumped his chest) "—and rely upon our strong right arms."

             
"Then I hardly suppose you would have one of those Serican thunder tubes? I have seen one, a most fell weapon."

             
"Nay, we've never heard of such things. We could, howsomever, lend you a sturdy hunting spear."

             
"Better than nought," grumped Eudoric. "And now, may I see our agreement in writing?"

             
"Oh, very well, very well. Here one trusts the word of a gentleman. Pol! Go fetch the scrivener."

             
When the scrivener came in with pen, ink, and an armful of parchments, Eudoric said: "Two copies,
I
pray. Do you not use that new stuff called paper? They say the Sericans invented it, and it's much cheaper than parchment."

             
"We brave Armorians think little of newfangled things," sneered Corentin.

             
The scrivener scratched away, sometimes holding poised his plume while Eudoric and the jester argued over the wording of a sentence. At last Corentin stepped to the throne and roughly shook King Gwennon by the shoulder. "Wake up, Your Majesty! Here is a brace of documents for the royal seal. And now, whilst we are at it, let us set the terms of this wine-and-perry treaty
...
"

-

             
A wan yellow sun drifted up a pearly morning sky; seaward, a heavy haze hid the horizon. Middling blue-gray waves impinged upon the Rock, throwing up bursts of spray like bushes laden with silver berries. Standing ashore from the tanbark-gray Rock with the King, the jester, and a clank of guards, Eudoric said:

             
"My lords, two days ago I had my first sight of the ocean. From tales I have heard, I expected waves like moving hills, hurling their foam as high as treetops."

             
"We do get storms like that," said King Gwennon, "possibly—"

             
"Mainly in the winter," Corentin interrupted. "Ye are fortunate in that the weather today is mild as milk. Ah, there goes the princess with her escort!"