The Incorporated Knight (18 page)

             
"To slay a wounded man is hardly—well
...
"

             
Tsudai shook his head. "Ye Westerners are all sentimentalists at heart. Ye understand not. If he recover and learn who stuck him, he'll seek to waylay you for vengeance. Furthermore, had we his corse, we might find upon it evidence of him who set whose bravos upon this person."

             
"Who might hire these cullions?"

             
"This one makes no accusation without evidence. Still, it is known that the Duke of Dorelia bears this insect no love, for having exposed his plot to murder King Clothar."

             
"And I've been hired to pass through the Duchy of Dorelia!" said Eudoric with a grunt. "By the Divine Pair, let's hope none of those fellows saw me well enough to know me again."

             
The Serican spread his hands. "Ye are young knight from the Empire, who would extend coach line hither, so-not-so?"

             
"Aye, sir. May I lead you to my room, to rest and refresh yourself?"

             
"Nay, thank you. From Secretary's chamber, this despicable one returned to own cabinet, gathered belongings, and set out for his humble home. In the excitement of attack, this stupid one called for help in his own language."

             
"If you are a wizard, why not summon your demon and set him upon those knaves?"

             
"Tried but forgot it was the demon's day of recreation. Penalty of age is forgetfulness. Wouldst come to my slatternly dwelling? Shall feel more at ease with a swordsman by side. Then, belike, ye might deign to meet repulsive wife and degenerate children."

             
"I shall be honored," said Eudoric, suppressing a smile at the Serican's extravagant self-deprecation.

             
Tsudai's wife proved not at all repulsive, and the children seemed remarkably bright, clean, and well-behaved. Eudoric tried to pump Tsudai about Princess Yolanda. But the seer said he had settled in Letitia only after the King's sister had departed. Further questions about Yolanda, Tsudai turned aside with elaborate politeness. He brought the conversation around to Serican business practices, a topic that his guest found completely absorbing.

             
"For a private enterprise like yours," said Tsudai, "we have a device called
hong.
Suppose three men wish to start a business, but each one has different sum to invest. So they print, let us say, twelve certificates, each for ownership of one-twelfth of the hong. Say, one buy five shares, one four, one three. When business make profit, the profit is shared in proportion to holdings, and votes by shareholders for mandarins of company are likewise weighted."

             
Eudoric listened keenly. "What if the company go bankrupt?"

             
"Then the owners of shares may lose their shares, given to creditors; but are not otherwise liable. Makes sale of shares much easier."

             
"In other words, such a company acts as a human being, with the same powers, restrictions, and liabilities?"

             
"Yea; one may call it an artificial person."

             
"I see possibilities," said Eudoric, "but our laws would need revision. Now, Doctor, canst forecast my future?"

             
"Only in most general way, honorable sir. This disgusting worm can read something of character in my crystal and draw inferences. For ensample, if ye be an inveterate gambler, ye will surely end in want; if ye be a constant quarreler, chances are overpowering that ye will die by violence. But precisely when and how, I know not.

             
"When this one looked through crystal, he saw that ye had set out from home in hope of wiving, your previous courtships having gone awry. I marked how your interest quickened at talk of the King's sister."

             
"What think you of my chances—not perforce with the King's sister, but with womankind in general? How happy shall I be if I ever do find a mate?"

             
"As to that, ye shall probably attain your goal, albeit with toils and troubles. At least, when ye do wive, she may be sure of your fidelity."

             
"How know you that?" asked Eudoric.

             
Tsudai chuckled. "Because ye lack the charm and surface gallantries that oft beguile women, wherefore they'll give you scant encouragement to stray. Few lusty young men would count this quality a virtue; but it will natheless save a mort of grief. Your chosen one may find you less enchanting company than a hero of romance; but she can ever rely upon you. And that, with advancing years, becomes the thickest strand in marital tie." He rose. "Sir Eudoric, this creature owes you his worthless life. When in dire strait, be free to seek my ineffectual aid."

             
Tsudai sent Eudoric off with two bottles of Franconia's finest vintage wrapped in his cloak. Slightly the worse for wine, Eudoric weaved his way back to his room. He tried to compensate for his tipsiness by gripping the robber's sword and darting suspicious glances into every dark recess. But nothing happened.

-

             
While traversing the lands of the Duke of Dorelia, Eudoric tried to be quietly inconspicuous and to move in the casual, leisurely manner of one to whom the journey was a timeworn tale. He expected at every step to be stopped by the men of the Duke, eager to lay their hands on a hireling of the Duke's inimical suzerain, King Clothar. Eudoric rehearsed the speeches that he would make to convince his captors that he was nothing more than a stagecoach owner looking for means of expansion. He ruthlessly practised Forthred in local manners and customs, so that the apprentice should not draw unwanted attention by flagrantly foreign behavior.

             
As things turned out, Eudoric's careful precautions proved superfluous. Nobody questioned them. Indeed, nobody showed any interest in a pair of quiet, orderly, taciturn travelers.

-

             
At the Armorian border, a customs inspector went through Eudoric's baggage until he came to the remaining bottle of golden Franconian wine, the gift of Tsudai the Serican. Eudoric had saved this bottle so that he and Forthred could celebrate reaching Armoria. The inspector blew a whistle, and two mailed customs men-at-arms bustled up. The inspector cried in Armorian:

             
"Arrest these men! They seek to smuggle a forbidden fluid into the land!"

             
"Eh?" said Eudoric. "Oh, you mean that bottle of wine." He spoke Helladic, which the inspector understood. "I had forgotten your law—"

             
"Ignorance of the law is no excuse!" barked the inspector. "Take them to prison—"

             
"Now see here!" blustered Eudoric. "I am no mere vagabond, but a leiger from His Majesty the King of Franconia to His Majesty the King of Armoria—"

             
"Ha! A likely story! Where is your escort? Where are your credentials? Your letters under the royal seal?"

             
"I was sent forth with only the passport you hold, lest the Duke of Dorelia get wind of the plan. 'Tis said that the Duke fears that my mission might lead to renascent amity betwixt the two monarchs, thus depriving him of a diplomatic advantage."

             
The inspector shook his head. "I have nought to do with matters of statecraft. Take them away, men, whilst I seek counsel."

-

             
Eudoric and Forthred found themselves in a verminous cell in a nearby building, lit only by overcast daylight through a small, high, barred window. While Eudoric examined the door, the walls, and the window for weak spots, Forthred said in the gloom:

             
"Sir Eudoric, I never thought you such a glib liar. My master warned me that ye were a man of tough standards, exact and demanding, but nought of this singular endowment."

             
"There's no spur to invention that vies with necessity," grunted Eudoric. "And keep your voice down."

             
"Suppose these Armorians demand to know what sort of mission we be on? What'll ye answer?"

             
"I'm thinking up a story."

             
The next day the travelers, scratching flea bites, were brought back to the customs post. With the inspector was a gray-bearded man wearing a scarlet gown and the tall black hat of a justice of the peace. The graybeard asked Eudoric:

             
"Now then, sir, what is this secret mission ye claim to serve?"

             
"King Clothar wishes to end this footling dispute over wine and perry. He has sent me to negotiate a treaty of mutual approval of your two kingdoms' respective beverages. I brought that bottle as a nominal gift to His Majesty King Gwennon, to—all—soften his ire."

             
"What terms are ye authorized to offer?"

             
Eudoric smiled. "My lord, as a man of the bench, learned in the law, you would not truly expect me to reveal my terms in advance of negotiation. Let us say that I hope to get an agreement that shall leave both monarchs equally pleased—or equally displeased, as the case may be."

             
The justice frowned. "Meseems King Clothar sent his sister on a similar mission within the past twelvemonth. If she could not achieve that aim, wherefore thinks he that an unknown foreigner could succeed?"

             
Thinking fast, Eudoric said: "On the contrary, my lord, it was altogether a logical decision."

             
"How so? From far-flying rumor, that royal noodle-head hath never a thought in his sconce beyond trouncing a courtier at some silly game or flittering a willing wench."

             
"Well then, let us say that it was logical of King Clothar's minister, Master Brulard. The King's sister would surely incite suspicion on the part of the
Armorians, being both intimate kin to Clothar and active, I am told, in the occult arts. She must have attempted some magical sleight, if it be true that she be immured."

             
"Hmm." The justice paused to study his collocutor. "I heard that she had been accused of witchery and named as the monster's bride. Proceed, Sir Eudoric."

             
"So it seemed to Minister Brulard that a stranger like me, having no ties in either land, would command more confidence as a fair-minded intermediary to arbitrate this dispute."

             
The justice chewed a wandering whisker, then said: "Sir Eudoric, meseems ye be either an excellent choice for arbitrator, or the most plausible liar that hath come this way during my term of office. My judgment is that ye be sent on to Ysness, but with an escort, to make sure that ye be he who ye say ye be. If it transpire that ye be not
...
" The justice drew an ominous finger across his throat.

             
"My lord," said Eudoric, "what is this about the Princess Yolanda's being given to a monster?"

             
"Ah, that is on account of the curse of Svor the Stroller."

             
"Who? What curse?"

             
"Know ye not? The tale is old and well-worn in Armoria. Svor the Stroller was a mountebank from a land even farther away than yours—a country hight Pathenia."

             
"I have been there," said Eudoric.