The Incorporated Knight (22 page)

             
"The fiend take them! I should have guessed they had some such zany scheme in mind. Wherefore would they foist this union upon us?"

             
"They have the silly notion that you were less of a danger to them wed than as a maid."

             
"And what if I tell them to go futter themselves?"

             
"They'll throw us into prison until we change our minds."

             
"I'll rot in their dungeons ere I yield!"

             
"So thought I, also. But let us not reject the plan too hastily, lest we waste away our lives. We could make it a titular marriage; on your request, I would not press my husbandly rights."

             
"You would find it a daunting task to press them against my will," she said ominously.

             
"I daresay. Then, back in Franconia, you could take legal measures to regain your single state."

             
She pondered Eudoric's statement. "Franconia has no divorce—but under circumstances such as these, an annulment could be had."

             
"Assuming that we should then wish to part," said Eudoric.

             
"There is that possibility. Suffer me to think."

             
She sat long in silence, while Eudoric scanned the seascape for a sight of the monster. After a while he asked: "You
are
single, I take it?"

             
"Aye; husbandless and loverless." She looked him over narrowly. "Now that I consider the matter, methinks that, failing better, you might do. You seem a man of capacity, not ill-favored, whom I might learn to love. I could fare farther and do worse. But are you of noble blood? A royal princess cannot wed a low-born upstart, be he never so brave and virtuous."

             
Eudoric sighed. "I am heir to a banneret knight's holding, in Locania. Is that noble enough?"

             
"
'
Twill do; 'twill suffice. Are you, too, single?"

             
"Aye. Truth to tell, I embarked upon this journey in hopes of wiving."

             
"Are you complete in all your parts?"

             
"So far as I know, I am. But if we forgo our marital pleasures until we—"

             
"Oho, a reluctant lecher! Mean you that you're a priestly celibate, whom I shall have to teach about the bees and the flowers?"

             
Eudoric laughed. "Good Gods, nay!"

             
"Well then, have you any mistresses to be paid off and turned out? I'll not suffer my man to divide his affections, whatever some of our courtly debauchees
do—"

             
"Nay, no mistresses. I've been betrothed divers times, but fate has hitherto thwarted mine honorable intentions." Eudoric smiled. "And by the bye, my lovely enchantress, how know I that, upon our first disagreement, you'll not turn me into an earthworm?"

             
She laughed. "Fear not! To change the shape of a living being calls for spells far beyond my modest capacity. And, since the resulting creature must weigh as much as the being whence it came, you'd make a monstrous worm. No one ever disagrees with me anyway, save my featherpated brother.

             
"Now, Eudoric, since fate has dealt us this curious throw of the dice, let's make the best of it." She reached out and gave his arm a friendly squeeze. "Your offer to relinquish your rights was generous, and I thank you for it; but in this parlous strait 'twere foolish to forgo any harmless
pleasures we might enjoy. I confess that I, too, have been seeking a mate. Being nearly thirty years of age, I fear a lifelong spinsterhood. I hereby swear to make you the happiest of husbands and to work no goetic magics upon your person!"

             
"If our marriage be one of fact as well as name, would that affect your getting an annulment—assuming you'd wish one?"

             
She shook her head. "For a commoner it were an obstacle; but I could afford the highest bribes the hierarchy would demand."

             
Eudoric studied the waves for a while; then asked: "And of our issue, should there be such, what were their standing?"

             
"You'll never sire a king, Eudoric. Franconian laws are strict in the succession. They'd have to run clean out of Clothar's male kinsmen, unto tenth cousins, ere they'd enthrone any child of mine. Besides, Clothar has legitimate children of's own, not to mention a swarm of little bastards. Your and my issue would receive nought but minor titles, as would you as my consort."

             
After another pause to scan the waters, Eudoric asked: "Speaking of magic, what
is
the strongest spell in your arsenal?"

             
"I have one for evoking marids. I bought it from an old Hiberian
kassaf,
who was down on his luck and wanted money for drink."

             
"For evoking
what?"

             
"Marids; a kind of ouph that dwells in that part of the spirit world that is congruent with the Saracenic lands. It is a dangerous enterprise, for marids demand the most careful control after evocation. One must command them in the Saracenic tongue. Would that I had fetched a few marids with me from Letitia!"

             
"Do you speak Saracenic?" asked Eudoric.

             
"Enough to rule my marids."

             
"How would you say, in Saracenic—"

             
A scream from Yolanda interrupted. "Here it comes!"

             
A few wave crests away, a length of slick, slate-gray hide reflected the wan sun as it broke the glittering surface. Eudoric scrambled up; but the wet leather heel of one boot skidded off the damp stone of the ledge. Unbalanced, Eudoric frantically reached for something to grasp. He snatched at Yolanda, but she flinched back in panic.

             
Off he went with a splash, and the water closed over his head. A powerful downward stroke of his arms brought his head out of water. When his vision cleared, he perceived a smaller ledge below the narrow surface on which he had sat.

             
As, coughing, he pulled his arms and shoulders out of the sea, he saw his spear float away on a receding wave. It stood upright in the water, butt end upward and bobbing gently with the rhythm of the waves. Already the weapon was out of reach, although Eudoric could still have swum for it. But the monster's head arose from the sea almost with arm's length.

             
The fathom-long cranium tapered to a blunt muzzle. A blowhole atop its head sent out a puff of vapor. Although the flippers were still beneath the surface, the head was supported by a neck as thick as itself; the creature looked quite large enough to swallow Eudoric whole. Black corneas in white eyeballs regarded him dispassionately. Then the monster's gaze shifted back and forth between Eudoric and Yolanda, as if it were undecided which to seize.

             
If Eudoric let go the little ledge, he would go under again. What with the weight of sword, scabbard, and boots, he could not expect to float.

             
"Clumsy oaf!" screamed Yolanda.

             
At another time, Eudoric would have had biting words about such abuse from a woman for whom he was risking his life. Now other matters preempted his attention. The wedge-shaped jaws gaped, revealing scores of ivory-white fangs edging a crimson maw. The animal stank of fish.

             
"Druzhok!" shouted Eudoric.

             
The beast jerked back its head and slowly closed its empty jaws, while Eudoric desperately tried to remember what he could of the Pathenian language.
"Vniz!"
he shouted, hoping that this was the word for "down.
"
"
Druzhok! Down! Go back! Go away!"

             
Druzhok backed off a few feet. It remained attentively poised, as if awaiting the next command.

             
"Druzhok!" cried Eudoric. "Good monster! Nice monster! Go far away! Go way off thither!" He pointed westward. "Come not back, ever! Stay away from Armoria!"

             
Although the reptilian face was essentially expressionless, Eudoric thought he saw a brief look of hurt in the creature's eyes before the fang-provided head disappeared. He caught glimpses of slate-gray hide breaking the surface and vanishing, farther away each time. Then Druzhok was gone, save for a distant puff of vapor from its blowhole.

-

             
King Gwennon's henchmen hauled a sodden Eudoric and Yolanda to the top of the Rock. Now that he had a chance to scrutinize Yolanda while they stood on the same level, Eudoric realized that she overtopped him by a good span. With her shift still clinging damply to her, she reminded him of one of those pagan goddesses worshiped in the old Napolitanian Empire before the triumph of more sophisticated theologies. To marry a six-foot beauty, of high rank and magical powers, were almost as formidable an enterprise as wedding a female deity.

             
The soldiers escorted the couple back to shore, where the King, the jester, the apprentice Forthred, and a gaggle of other persons waited. Two among these stood out. One wore the purple robe and mitre of a priest of the Triunitarian religion, which prevailed in Franconia. The other had thrown a cloak of wolf skin over his white linen robe, and from his head arose a furry headdress bearing the antlers of a hart.

             
King Gwennon seized Eudoric and kissed him on both cheeks. Eudoric found the King's breath so alcoholic that anyone near him would in time get tipsy on it. Corentin pounded his back, crying:

             
"In the name of the Old Gods, what did ye, Sir Eudoric? We could not see clearly, because of the bulge of the Rock. We did see the monster break the surface and open its maw to seize one of you; next, it was fleeing away as if pursued by all the fiends of the Triunitarian Hell. Did ye deal the creature a mortal hurt?"

             
"I merely commanded it to depart," said Eudoric, "and it went."

             
"By Kernun's horns! We shall enlist you as commander of the beasts, to order the wolves and bears of Armoria to leave our livestock unharmed. Now there shall be a feast, to celebrate your nuptials with the princess! Meanwhile ye shall receive words of praise from the leading men and women of our fogbound land. This is Lord Gorbuduc, chief of the Veneti
...
"

             
Eudoric soon lost track of names and faces. When the jester paused for breath, the new hero asked: "Tell me, pray: How does one wed in Armoria?"

             
"Amongst us it is a civil ceremony, albeit folk may hie t
h
emselves to a priest of the Old Gods, like Father Mamert here—" (he indicated the man in the horned hat) "—for a blessing. The couple exchange vows before any qualified person, such as His Majesty, or me, or any chief, magistrate, or priest. The couple then execute their duties before witnesses."

             
"That were no marriage amongst us Franconians," said Yolanda. "A princess of the blood cannot enter into mere concubinage. Have you no priests of the True Faith?"