The Incorporated Knight (19 page)

             
"Have ye indeed? Is it true that Pathenians devour their own firstborn?"

             
"Not that I ever heard; meseems they rear their families in much the same way as other folk. But tell me more about this curse."

             
"This Svor had a traveling show, with a few performers and some foreign wonders for yokels to gape at. One of these was his monster, a kind of sea dragon, the which he kept in a tank of water and dragged with him about the land. This monster was but a child of its race, not much longer than a man, and the tank confined it straitly. Svor averred he had raised it from an egg and fed it only meagerly, lest it grow too large to be contained.

             
"He had trained the beast to perform certain tricks, giving commands in Pathenian and rewarding it with little fishes. With him it was as tame as a dog. When he called: 'Here, Dru—Druzhok!' (at least, that is what I think he named the creature) it would rear up out of its tank to be stroked and to nuzzle its master. Never have I beheld a cleverer beast; it seemed to understand every word that Svor spake.

             
"Somehow, Svor fell afoul of the King's jester, Master Corentin, who, far from being a fool, hath magical powers of s own. One day they met on the beach at Ysness, and the quarrel brake out openly. Both cast spells; but Corentin's proved the stronger, causing Svor to burn alive where he stood.

             
"Ere he died, Svor shrieked a curse upon the land: that his monster should escape to the sea, wax immense, and yearly return to ravage the shores of Armoria, unless it were given a maiden each year to devour.

             
"When the King's men rushed to Svor's caravan to see how the monster betid, they found that Druzhok indeed had crawled out of its tank, departed its wagon, waddled down to the shore, and swum away. The rest of the mountebank's company, who seemed to be harmless folk, were let go with a warning.

             
"For six years, no ills from the curse materialized. Then the monster, grown to the size of one of the smaller whales, appeared along the coast, destroying fishing craft and snatching unwary bathers. King Gwennon commanded that the justices name the female criminal then in custody as the one most richly deserving of death, and they brought forth a woman who'd poisoned her children and man. So she was duly chained to a rock on the shore near Ysness.

             
"The monster tore her loose from her chains, engulfed her, and vanished. Next year it appeared again, but this time the victim, another murdering woman, already cowered in place. So the creature enjoyed its repast and departed without effecting further harm.

             
"And so things have gone ever since. Princess Yolanda will be the seventh victim—or belike the eighth. As ye see, the monster seemingly cares but little for the personal conduct of its victims, so long as they be tasty."

             
Eudoric frowned in thought. "When is the next such sacrifice?"

             
The justice paused to think. "In ten or twelve days, meseems. If your escort hasten, ye should arrive in the capital in time this fete to witness. It were well to reach the place early, because enterprising fellows set up benches along the shore and let sitting space to spectators."

             
"An arresting spectacle, no doubt," said Eudoric dryly. "Has none essayed to slay the monster?"

             
"Aye; the King hath offered a recompense for such a hero. When the third maiden was to be devoured, one bold knight, Sir Tugen, climbed out upon the rock with sword in hand. But the monster knocked him into the deep with a flip of's flipper.

             
"It would doubtless have devoured Sir Tugen as well as the woman, but that he was wearing armor. Having attempted a bite or two, it left the man and took the victim, chained as before. That served the knight but ill, for he was drowned by the weight of his plate. After the monster departed, the armored corse was fished f
r
om the sea, bearing dents from Druzhok's teeth. Why, Sir Eudoric, didst think of attempting that feat yourself?"

             
"Having only now heard of this singular rite," said
Eudoric cautiously, "I am not prepared to answer. How soon can we start for Ysness?"

-

             
The green and rolling countryside of Armoria jounced past as Eudoric, Forthred, and their escort jogged steadily westward. Now and then the open landscape was broken by a patch of forest or by a hill that rose in a hump above the plain. Atop of many such hills, Eudoric noted graying prominences that seemed from afar to be a regular shape. Blurred by the hazy Armorian air, these protuberances appeared to be made of huge slabs of stone leaning against one another. Eudoric asked Sreng, the officer of the squad, about these eminences.

             
"Tombs of our ancient kings," replied Sreng shortly. He rode a little in advance of Eudoric, with Eudoric's reins in his fist.

             
When they skirted another megalithic tomb more closely, Eudoric said: "Those look like mighty stones for men to have hauled up such a slope."

             
Sreng retorted: "Know, O foreigner, that our wizards could magic yon stones into their present place, were they an hundred times as massy."

             
"Wizards!" snorted Kibhauc, Sreng's lieutenant. "More like 'twas the magic of chieftains' whips, laid across the backs of tribesmen whilst they hauled the stones with leathern ropes."

             
"Oh, shut thy gob!" said Sreng. "Ye be ever carping and doubting. 'Twere not beyond belief that ye doubt the blessed gods themselves and have gone over to that accursed Triunitarian cult that's spread by missioners from Franconia, so as to weaken our national unity and bring us under Letitia's dominion."

             
"Find me a wizard who can by magic loft any weight above ten pounds, and I shall be happy to believe. What think ye, Sir Eudoric?"

             
Eudoric smiled faintly. "My friends, I have traveled through divers lands; and I have found it prudent never to dispute the beliefs of the dwellers therein. How far from Ysness are we?"

             
"A few hours should see us thither," said Sreng, "if this weather hold, which looks unlikely."

             
A lowering sky grew darker; thunder rumbled from the black-bottomed clouds. Eudoric said: "There's the largest of your royal tombs so far. Could we not seek to shelter ourselves within?"

             
Sreng gasped. "Invade King Balan's tomb? Ye must be moonstricken! No man who enters one of these tombs comes out alive."

             
"What befalls him?"

             
"How should I know, since none hath returned to tell the tale? Nay, we'll make do with such shelter as yon copse provides."

             
Sreng led the group into the designated woodland. They were still rigging a lean-to of branches with cloaks and blankets spread out upon them when the rain began. A steady downpour kept them huddled beneath this imperfect shelter for the rest of that day and half the next. They munched black bread, cheese, dried beef, and onions; dozed; cast knucklebones; boasted of heroic feats of carousing and fornication; and listened to Eudoric's tales of travel, while Eudoric practiced his rudimentary Armorian.

-

             
King Gwennon's palace was a cluster of buildings of logs with the brown bark on, save where it had peeled off in patches. The largest of these structures contained the dining hall and the throne room, as well as the private royal quarters.

             
Gwennon's throne was a massive armchair of wood stained black. The back and arms were carved in an intricate pattern of interlaced dragons biting one another's tails; their eyes and fangs were picked out against the sable background by gilding. The King himself proved a small, rotund, sleepy-looking, white-bearded oldster.

             
Eudoric quickly noted a sickly smell pervading the throne room. He soon discovered the source. This was a rack affixed to the wall, having a row of spikes on four of which were mounted human heads, pale and expressionless with half-closed eyes. Eudoric got an impression of being translated back to the earlier, ruder time that followed the fall of the old Napolitanian Empire.

             
Eudoric also saw whence the heads had been obtained. In addition to the usual chain-mailed swordsmen standing beside and behind the throne, one more guardsman leaned upon a broad-bladed ax. Before him stood a large, wooden, black-painted block with its top hollowed out in a shallow groove. A bucket rested on the floor in front of the block. Forthred whispered:

             
"Sir Eudoric, I like this place not.
"

             
"
Nor I; but hold your tongue," muttered Eudoric. Eudoric had been escorted in by the four men-at-arms who had ridden with him from the border. A green-clad usher cried: "Your Majesty, I present Sir Eudoric Dambertson of Arduen, who saith he hath a message for you from King Clothar of Franconia."

             
The usher motioned Eudoric forward. Eudoric dropped to one knee.

             
"Rise, Sir Eudoric," wheezed the King. "Here, a simple bow were enough. We set no great store by fancy manners like unto those of decadent Franconia. Nay, we—"

             
"Nay indeed," interrupted another, rising from a curled-up posture near the throne. A tall slender person, black of hair and pale of face, this man wore a costume of vivid checks of red, yellow, and green, with a horned headdress. Little bells on the ends of the horns tinkled when he moved. "Nay forsooth, good Sir Eudoric! In Armoria, all is feasting and fun.

"A roamer who comes from a faraway land

To pause and admire our silvery strand,

An he's a good fellow, we'll wine him and dine;

If not, we will sunder his cervical spine!"

-

             
The jester collapsed in a gale of laughter. The King smiled in a puzzled way; the men-at-arms dutifully smirked. While Eudoric was not without a sense of humor, this faculty was not his outstanding talent.

             
He smiled thinly, since he could see nothing very amusing in the verse, especially with the headsman standing ready for instant duty.

             
Eudoric assumed that the man in the fool's regalia was the jester-minister Corentin, who continued: "And now, sir, what is your business?"

             
Addressing the King, Eudoric went into his well-rehearsed speech about King Clothar's wish to resume amicable relations. At the climax he produced the remaining bottle of wine: "
...
and in token thereof, His Majesty sends Your Majesty this little gift, in hopes that Your Majesty will reciprocate with a flask of your own delicious perry." . The King leaned eagerly forward, extending a pudgy arm. Before he could grasp the bottle, the jester snatched it, saying:

             
"Naughty, naughty! Ye know better than to drink from aught that your faithful taster hath not sampled.

"With poisons malign

His Majesty's wine

Doth featly combine;

With toxicants crude

Is monarchy's food

By cunning imbued."

-

             
Corentin drew the cork and put the bottle to his mouth. He downed several swallows and handed the bottle, now half empty, to his royal master. Eudoric observed these actions with surprise; of the several rulers whom he had known, none would have tolerated such impudence on the part of a subject. Corentin continued: