The Incorporated Knight (37 page)

Read The Incorporated Knight Online

Authors: L. Sprague de Camp,Catherine Crook de Camp

Tags: #Fantasy, #General, #Fantastic Fiction, #Fiction

 

             
"Honor, hell!" said Eudoric. "You wear a mailshirt; I, nought but this leathern jack."

 

             
"That's thy misfortune. I warned thee." Another swing; Eudoric's heel caught on a root, so that he stumbled back and barely avoided another powerful slash.

 

             
"Stand and fight, dancing master!" howled Gontran. Round and round they went, swords clanging. Eudoric began to tire; but so, he saw, did Gontran. The warrior's face was scarlet with effort and dripped with sweat, even in the cool autumnal air.

 

             
Then came the instant for which Eudoric had been waiting. Gontran paused to catch his breath, standing with feet widely braced and the long sword held before him with the blade slanting up towards Eudoric. Eudoric whipped up his own blade and captured Gontran's near the tip in a
prise.
He forced the hostile blade around in a circle, which threw it out of line. A quick advance brought Eudoric past Gontran's point and within his own sword's reach of his foe.

 

             
Eudoric lunged. Instead of aiming for Gontran's mailed chest, he drove his blade into the warrior's right thigh, protected only by woolen breeches. He felt the point bite through.

 

             
Gontran gave an animal-like howl and started to raise his sword. Eudoric skipped back out of reach as Gontran's wounded leg folded beneath him, spilling him into the leaf mold. As Gontran struggled into a half-sitting position, still gripping his sword, Eudoric aimed a mighty cut at Gontran's neck. The warrior threw up his left arm, into which the blade bit. Eudoric sent a backhanded blow towards the other side of the exposed neck; he missed and laid open Gontran's cheek.

 

             
Landwin and Forthred ran up, dripping. Landwin said: "What's—we heard the clash—"

 

             
Eudoric made a thrust at Gontran's throat. Gontran jerked aside, so that the blade pierced his shoulder muscle; the push toppled the massive man over on his back. He lay moving his heavy limbs like a wounded insect.

 

             
"Methinks he's cut up enough to be harmless," said Landwin. "The knightly codes ordain giving a fallen foe a chance to yield."

 

             
Eudoric hesitated. Then he knelt beside the fallen man and spoke: "Sir Gontran!"

 

             
"Aye?" The voice came out half strangled by blood.

 

             
"Do you yield and swear by your honor never more to molest your co-husbands?"

 

             
For a few heartbeats, Gontran was silent; then he suddenly spat blood and saliva at Eudoric. "That for thee, thou coystril!" he coughed.

 

             
Eudoric, rising, sighed. "I would not only have let him live; I'd have patched up his wounds if he'd spoken me fair. But to spare one who would spend his life looking for a chance to slay me were mere folly." He brought his blade whistling down on Gontran's throat, half severing the neck. Gontran lay staring at the sky while his blood poured out on the forest litter.

 

             
Eudoric wiped and sheathed his sword, saying: "You are my witness, Landwin. He asked for it, in case anyone seek to make an issue of this."

 

             
"We had better bury him," said Landwin, "and
swear ourselves to silence. He was somewhat of a Franconian national hero."

 

             
"How did such an arrant blockhead achieve the name of hero?"

 

             
"
'
Twas he who led that fatal charge of the Franconian knights at Polovotsograd, and he alone survived that field of blood."

 

             
"How so?"

 

             
"He cut his way out of the swarming Pantorozian hordes. He may have been a blockhead, but so mighty were his strokes that every blow laid low an opponent. So—"

 

             
"We have no shovel," said Eudoric. "Forthred! Don your breeks and boots and go find the simpleton's horse. Methinks he may have brought a shovel with him, intending to bury us therewith."

 

             
Forthred departed. Landwin, his head cocked quizzically, said: "You think of everything, do you not?

 

 

"Sir Eudoric, knight,

Puts monsters to rout;

Prevails in a fight

With a murderous lout.

 

He chaffers with lords

And roisters with churls;

He's handy with swords

And loved by the girls,

 

But flees like a hare,

Although without blame,

The sorceress fair,

Yolanda by name!"

 

 

             
Eudoric laughed heartily. "Would that I had half the virtues you attribute to me! Especially that part about being loved by the girls. The only girls who seem taken with me—Yolanda aside—sell their affections for ready money. With you, I'm told, 'tis otherwise. What have you that
I
lack, aside from your gift of tossing off rhymes?"

 

             
Landwin squinted knowingly.
"I
mean no dispraise, Eudoric; but to me you seem a bit of a cold-blooded contriver—too much so to be a very prow lover."

 

             
Eudoric shrugged. "You are right. At Saalingen University they called me 'Eudoric the Calculator,' because
I
excelled in reckoning.
I
fear my classmates did not much like me; but
I
went my own way regardless, as
I
've done ever since."

 

             
Forthred returned, leading a horse with one hand and bearing a shovel in the other. Eudoric held out three grass stems.

 

             
"Take one each, my friends," he said. "Short straw takes first turn at the shovel. Oh, murrain, 'tis mine! Give me the shovel, pray."

 

-

 

             
Doctor Baldonius called: "Come in! Come in! And leave not the door ajar; 'tis cold
...
By the God and Goddess, if it be not Eudoric! How art? Didst have more fantastic adventures in the western kingdoms?"

 

             
"Nought much." Eudoric shrugged. "Save a few incidents like saving a maiden from a sea monster; being forced to wed her only to learn that she already had three living husbands; and being snatched from durance vile by a Serican wizard and his pet dragon.
I
'll tell you all about it, but meanwhile—"

 

             
"Where is Forthred?"

 

             
"Calling upon his sweetling. He'll be along shortly.
"

 

             
"
How fared he?"

 

             
"He's a worthy lad and a dutiful squire. He once attempted a spell from the princess's armory; it went a little awry but natheless saved our skins. What's new here?"

 

             
"Knew ye that Baron Rainmar's dead?"

 

             
"Aye; my family told me when
I
arrived yesterday. Skewered by a shaft in the back, and no man saw the archer."

 

             
"Divine justice caught up with Rainmar at last," said Baldonius sententiously.

 

             
"Oh, yea? Rainmar murdered scores in's sanguinary life. Since no man can be slain more than once, where's the justice in balancing one death against dozens?"

 

             
Baldonius laid a finger beside his nose and winked. "I confess, that thought hath also flickered through mine aged brain. But such queries might bring one to trial for heresy, especially since King Valdhelm got religion, as they say, and decided that all Locania must do likewise. Now Rainmar's son-in-law, and a cousin, and Count Petz are locked in a legal broil over the title. Since the son-in-law hath the castle, methinks he'll prevail." Baldonius pushed his spectacles up his nose to see more clearly. "By the axis of the universe, what's that in your hands? A bunch of flowers,
now,
when we expect the first snow any day?"

 

             
"Fresh from Master Yvain's greenhouse in Zurgau. I bethought me—"

 

             
"And that other packet; what's that?"

 

             
A shy smile crossed Eudoric's sober features as he set his packages on Baldonius' reading table. "Sweetmeats from Goodwife Ingunda's shop in Kromnitch. You see, I stopped in the town to sound out Count Petz on a joint enterprise of a new kind, whereof I learned from the Serican wizard. If we can persuade the Royal Locanian Council to amend the law, and enlist the support of men of substance, we can expand our carriage business, refurbish roads and inns, and vastly
better conditions of travel in the kingdom. As it may chance, we also stand to make our fortunes."

 

             
"Indeed? How is this joint enterprise conducted?"

 

             
Eudoric explained the
hong
and its body of shareholders. "Thus, under the direction of leaders chosen by the holders of shares, these shareholders act as one individual, with far more effect than if they transacted their business separately."

 

             
"As if the group were merged into a single artificial person?"

 

             
"Precisely, Doctor. What would one call such an artificial person?"

 

             
Baldonius pondered. "In Helladic, the suitable word were 'corporation.' To form such a group would, I suppose, be termed 'to incorporate.' I see possibilities in this, my dear lad. If I could prevail upon some of my colleagues, such as Svanhalla and even that faker Calporio, to join me in setting up a similar group to bring order to the practice of magic
...
"

 

             
"I wish you all success. And now, where's Lusina?"

 

             
Baldonius picked up a book, riffled through the pages, and drew out a folded and sealed sheet of parchment. "One more matter, which meseems next in order of urgency. Yesterday a messenger came by, after a long and furious ride from Letitia, with a letter for you, bearing the seal of some high and mighty person. Here it is."

 

             
Eudoric took the folded parchment. "Grammercy. But why left he the letter here 'stead of at the castle?"

 

             
"He stopped to inquire the way, and I told him I'd deliver it to you. Methought ye'd prefer to have it out of the reach of meddlesome kin."

 

             
Eudoric laughed. "How well you know my mother! She'd have had it open in one heartbeat. I suspect who this missive's author be." He broke the seal."It must have cost her a pretty penny." He fell silent as he scanned the letter.

 

             
"Bad news?" asked Baldonius.

 

             
Eudoric shook his head. "I'll read it aloud, since it may concern matters of moment to the twain of us." He read:

 

-

 

H.R.H. Yolanda of Franconia to Sir Eudoric Dambertson of Arduen.

 

Dearest:

 

             
When I returned from Letitia, I found all my husbands flown like caitiff knaves. Had any been within my grasp, he should have smarted for it; but what's done is done. When I had recovered from the shock, it struck me that, of all the four, I regretted the flight of only one.

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