The Incorporated Knight (24 page)

             
"Balderdash, Your contumacious Highness!" snapped Corentin. "If ye knew your own history, ye'd realize that your people practiced this selfsame rite, ere the missioners of the Triunitarian faith converted them to their own persnickety creed."

             
"Master Jester," said Eudoric, "with the best of intentions, I fear I could never discharge my marital duties, as you call them, in public. The difference betwixt this custom and those of my native land are too great."

             
"Ye men of the Empire must be a feckless lot," snorted Corentin in tones of exasperation, shaking his head so that the bells of his headdress tinkled. "A manly Armorian can futter in the midst of a battle. I told you that the bridal pair must discharge their marital obligations before witnesses, or the marriage is void. Did ye not understand plain Armorian?"

             
"I fear I did not grasp the full import of the words," said Eudoric. "In any case I will not do it, now or ever." (He actually said the equivalent of "Id eddy case I will dot do it, dow or ever.")

             
"Dear, dear!" said the pagan priest. "Must we then let them go unconjoined?"

             
"Never!" said Corentin. "It was in the agreement, and neither His Majesty nor I will have the wench running loose with her witchly powers. She's too fell a female to chance it. Belike the threat of the headsman—"

             
"An empty threat, Sir Jester," said Eudoric. "If I cannot perform my husbandly part with my head in place, be certain I should be unable to do so without it."

             
"Perchance a stay in our darkest dungeon might soften your contumacy," snarled Corentin. "Guards!"

             
Several of King Gwennon's soldiers, the only armed persons present, approached. Eudoric, wishing for something on which to blow his dripping nose, braced himself.

             
"What makes you think," he cried, "that I could rule this headstrong—"

             
A yell from the farther end of the courtyard wrenched attention thither. Out of the darkness rushed a crowd of men with clubs: staves of building lumber and other improvised cudgels. At their head ran Bishop Grippo, holding up his purple robe and screaming:

             
"Down with the obscenity! Out with the fornicators! Frush this heathen orgy in the name of the Three True Gods!"

             
The mob set with vim upon the crowd in the courtyard; the thud of wood against heads and bodies punctuated cries of rage, alarm, and pain. The wedding party began to stream away, some fleeing back into the palace and some off into the darkness, with the attackers in pursuit.

             
Meanwhile Corentin shrieked commands to the sextet of guards in the courtyard, who formed up around Corentin, Mamert, Eudoric, and Yolanda. When two of the attackers rushed the group, the guards cut them down with their swords. The rest, recoiling before the bloodstained steel, joined in pursuit of the unarmed wedding guests. Soon the courtyard was empty, save for the guards, the quartet they guarded, two corpses, and a bagpiper who had been knocked unconscious.

             
In response to Corentin's commands, the six guards scattered on the tasks assigned them. From beyond the palace, Eudoric heard the sounds of a hasty mustering of soldiers: a clatter of arms and armor, the shouting of urgent commands, and the stamping and neighing of horses. Soon a mounted group could be heard as it rumbled off into the night.

             
"Triunitarian heads will be piled here on the morrow," muttered Corentin. "Let's hope the bishop's be amongst them. And now, my dears, we shall proceed with our interrupted ceremony. Yonder stands your nuptial couch, and Father Mamert and I shall be your witnesses. The dance, though a jolly pastime, is not required by law."

             
"I'll see you in Hell first!" said Yolanda.

             
"But my dear Princess, the departure of the noisy crowd should abate your objections. Mamert and I do promise to watch in silence, eschewing the lascivious jests that are common on such an occasion."

             
"It will not do, Master Jester," said Eudoric. "In Yolanda's land and in mine, only the most licentious spirits would frig in public, as it
were.
Now, pray, find us twain a private chamber, and we'll testily to the results upon the morrow."

             
Mamert pushed back his horned headpiece to scratch his balding scalp. "It were irregulous to have no true witnessing. Suppose one of the twain demand annulment on grounds of non-coition? Who shall prove non-compliance?"

             
Corentin gave a weary sigh. " 'Twill do; 'twill suffice. The marriage will be legal unless you or I bring an action against it, and neither of us is fain to do that. Besides, the twain will doubtless feel as bound by the Triunitarian mummery as by our wedding rite. And what care we if a brace of foreigners return to their home in a state of sin?" He beckoned a guard. "Tell the
housekeeper to ready a bridal chamber. The room Duke Kiberon occupied will do. Now, ye two, come inside."

             
Corentin hustled Eudoric and Yolanda back into the palace, stopping at the deserted tables to pour himself a goblet of perry. He offered some to his companions, but his offer was declined. Yolanda was still tense with unspent anger, while Eudoric decided he was near enough to a drunken stupor without aggravating his condition. He asked:

             
"Where—where is the King?"

             
Corentin snorted. "Still asleep. When he's in his cups, nought less than an earthquake is needed to rouse him. I'll report the night's doings to him anon. Not that it greatly matters."

             
At long last, Corentin ushered the bridal couple to a room wherein a pair of chambermaids bustled about. As these glided away, giggling nervously, Corentin clapped Eudoric and Yolanda on the shoulder, declaiming:

"When the bridegroom's in lust,

And the maiden is fain,

With a vigorous thrust—"

-

             
"Stop!" roared Eudoric, glowering. "Master Corentin, you've given us enough embarrassment already. Kindly omit the versifying! Good-night!"

             
He grasped the slender jester's shoulders, turned him about, and with a powerful push sent him staggering off, laughing madly so that his bells tintinnabulated. Then Eudoric slammed and bolted the door. As he turned to face Yolanda, she snapped:

             
"Husband! Wipe your nose! You're a disgusting sight!"

-

             
As the rising sun sent scarlet beams through the diamond panes, Eudoric, red of eye and nose, emerged from the bridal chamber and sought the dining room. He found Corentin sawing away at a slab of cold roast pork.

             
"God den!" said the jester. "How passed your night?"

             
"Better than some but worse than others," said Eudoric. "Methought my cold would unman me completely; but my lady wrought a simple spell, which somewhat abated the symptoms. So we
...
Alas, the effect of the spell was but ephemeral; wherefore I now feel worse than ever."

             
"Ye stopped with the words 'So we
...
' So we what? What befell?"

             
"Well, what think you? That's my affair."

             
"Come, come, Sir Eudoric!" Corentin leaned forward, his eyes agleam with voyeuristic eagerness. "Give me the details, I beg. I lust to know every—"

             
"Lust away, you evil-minded jackanapes!" barked
Eudoric. "Whence I come, a gentleman does not particularize such matters, save to his priest or his physician. You are neither."

             
"Oh, I cry your pardon, Sir Eudoric!" Corentin made a visible effort to wipe the prurient curiosity from his features. "I did but wish to ascertain your state of felicity. It behooves the King and me, doth it not, to insure the happiness of eminent guests?" When Eudoric merely grunted, Corentin continued: "The life of a hero, such as ye be, doth not belong to himself alone, but serves as exemplar to generations to come. So should I not ask anent the happiness of the bridal pair on this fair and sunlit morn?" He put on a charming smile.

             
"You may say that the groom feels relieved at having performed his duty, when for a while a successful conclusion remained in doubt. As for the bride, you must needs ask her." He looked narrowly at Corentin. "By the bye, you spake of the wench as a 'maiden.' Now, I am not that famed Hiverian, Huano, reputed to have enjoyed ten women a night for a hundred years. But neither am I an utter novice, and I avow that Yolanda be a woman of experience
—
wide
experience. How about this, Sir Jester?"

             
Corentin swallowed. "Have one of these goose eggs. Know that, in modern Armorian, the term 'maiden' denotes a young, unwedded woman. It implies nought of her being a filly unridden, as it did in the older form of the tongue. Did she pleasure you?"

             
"I complain not."

             
Corentin laughed. "Then where's your plaint? We set no great store by virginity here."

             
Eudoric growled: "Simply stated, I like not having used merchandise fobbed off on me as pristine. My grievance will, howsomever, be much abated when you pay my promised hundred crowns."

             
The jester's eyebrows rose. "Indeed? And wherefore should we pay you such a sum?"

             
"You promised it as my reward for rescuing Yolanda."

             
"Ha! My good Sir Knight, if ye read the contract, ye'll see it saith 'for slaying the monster,' not for commanding it to levant. Since ye slew it not, the contract's null."

             
"By the Divine Pair!" roared Eudoric. "Of all the barefaced swindles—"

             
"Easy, easy," said the jester, grinning. He snapped his fingers, and four armed guards, who had been standing like statues around the room, stepped forward with hands on hilts. "My heart doth bleed for you; but the welfare of the kingdom is ever uppermost. If the contract be broken, we cannot straiten our treasury out of mere sympathy. Ye may not believe it, but Armoria's good is my capital concern. Therefore, our thanks and our praise for your worthy deed must suffice. I daresay we could hire Jurnach to compose another heroic lay about your acture."

             
"Heroic lays are all very fine," said Eudoric, "but gold is more useful in conducting a business. At least, it was agreed that I should receive fifty if the beast departed wounded."

             
"I recall the wording precise," said Corentin. " 'In the event that the beast flee away wounded, so that its death be not witnessed, the said Eudoric shall receive the moiety of the abovenamed amount.' Druzhok, howsomever, departed
these purlieus quite unseathed. How, then, can ye claim a reward for wounding it? If ye believe me not, I'll hale the scrivener hither with our copy of the contract." The jester finished with a malicious smile.

             
Eudoric frowned in thought. "When the beast departed, it gazed at me reproachfully. I am sure that its feelings, at least, were wounded."

             
"That signifies nought, Sir Knight; albeit ye show a
livelier wit than most of the ironclad titled loobies from the more easterly lands. We cannot summon the creature from the vasty deep and ask it: 'Hath Sir Eudoric in sooth bruised your tender soul? Poor little monster! Come hither and let us kiss your tears away!' So let the pair of you take your treaty with King Clothar and speedily hie yourselves back to Franconia. Count yourselves lucky that your heads be still affixed to the rest of you; for there be some who say ye routed Druzhok by a magical spell, after ye'd sworn ye had no such arcane powers."