Sir Apropos of Nothing

by Peter David

  “It’s so you’ll be presentable at the banquet, young sir,” said the steward.

  “Presentable as what?” I demanded, crouching and covering my privates for protection from the steaming water around me. “The main course? You’ll boil me like a chicken!”

  “We will not, young sir, I assure you,” he said in most soothing tones. He then clapped his hands and several young women with scrubbing brushes entered. I was taken aback for a moment. “Worry not, young sir. These are the regular bathers. I promise you that you possess nothing they’ve never seen before.”

  “Considering the temperature of the water, I’d wager it’s less than nothing,” I muttered as the women set to their work. Every so often one of them would giggle slightly. I didn’t want to think about what she found so amusing.

  After I was dry, then came the groomers. I felt like a damned horse. They cleaned me from head to toe while an outfitter seemed to take excessive interest in figuring out precisely what outfit for me to wear. He kept asking me for my opinion, but I’d none to offer. “Scarlet or flame would be good … but there’s nothing that matches your hair, so there’d be unpleasant contrast …” He muttered comments like that endlessly. He finally settled on a dark blue doublet woven with gold and made of samite. He added to that blue/black hose, and a slate-colored cloak that was lined with fur. The black boots were also lined with fur, and the outfitter insisted I bend over the tops in order to display the lining.

  “I look ridiculous,” I muttered as I stared into the full-length mirror.

  “You look like a noble.”

  “A noble ass,” I retorted. Still, despite the absurdity of my outer appearance, I had to admit that I was rather … well … taken with it. The outfitter, I suspect, knew what was going through my mind and said nothing, but merely smirked.

  And that set me to smirking as well.

  I had fooled them. I had fooled them all. If clothes make the man, splendid clothes make the splendid man.

  And this was my night to be splendid.

  I swept my cloak around me, reached for my staff so that I could affect my most imperious walk, and said archly, “I believe I have a party to attend.”

  I was escorted to the banquet hall. It was staggering, beyond belief, even more elaborate than what Warlord Shank had put out. Immediately I saw that the phoenix tapestry from the main hall had been relocated to here, undoubtedly so my connection to a great and wonderful destiny could be reiterated silently to all. But that was the least of the spectacles before me. There was food everywhere. I felt a flash of guilt; an entire town could have been fed for a week on what was being consumed there. Odclay was present, of course, jumping about with his folly bells jingling. But this time he was hardly the only source of entertainment. There were jugglers, there were clowns, there were dancing girls, there were mimes, there were magicians (clever fakers and not to be confused with weavers). There was, in short, all manner of purveyors of distractions. Not that the food required that anyone be distracted from it. I could tell just by smelling it that it was superb. Beef, turkey, pork … it seemed that anything and everything was being offered by servers to rooms of hungry knights, lords, and ladies.

  It was breathtaking and, for just a moment, I found myself with the same giddy reverence that my mother had had for knighthood in her younger days. Remember, the only major celebrational todo that had been held during my tenure was the one relating to the knights who put down the rebellion of Shank, and I hadn’t attended that one because Morningstar and his associates had been endeavoring to beat the stuffing out of me.

  That recollection helped remind me of the dark underbelly of knighthood … but still … this was … this was extraordinary no matter how you sliced it.

  With Morningstar fresh in my mind, I looked around quickly and finally espied him. He was on the far side of the hall, as far from the royal table as he could possibly be. Apparently he had been assigned as assistant squire to Sir Bollocks, a blockheaded knight who had a capacity for thought slightly above that of a bowl of soup. Mace didn’t look happy about it at all; when he spotted me looking at him, he glanced quickly away.

  “This way, young sir,” the steward said, and he guided me through the banquet hall. I wondered where I was supposed to be sitting, since my knight was gone and the squires’ table had already been passed. I saw people looking at me, murmuring and pointing. It was a heady experience.

  “Apropos! Join us, will you.”

  It was the king’s voice, not three feet away from me. He was standing behind the head table. He was clad in gold and white, and had never looked more majestic. Standing next to him was the queen, wearing a gown that was the most vivid scarlet I had ever seen. And next to them was a young woman that I didn’t recognize. She had stunning blond hair and was ravishingly attired in a purple gown with gold brocade. She sported a white tippet hanging off her right arm and trailing to the floor, except it was silk rather than the standard linen, and a heart-shaped golden chaplet upon her brow.

  “Yes, join us, please,” said Entipy’s voice, emerging from the mouth of the young woman.

  I was utterly flabbergasted, and was unable to hide it. I mouthed her name but no words came out. She smiled, obviously pleased at how disconcerted I was.

  “You remember our daughter,” the king said with mock ceremony. “You spent quite enough time with her. Please … do come around and join us. There’s a seat next to her.”

  “Yes … yes, of course,” I said, finding my voice from wherever it had momentarily vanished to. I moved to the seat next to her. She winked at me as I eased myself down. “I’m … sorry, Princess. You … uhm …”

  “Clean up well?”

  “I was going to say something along those lines, yes.”

  “And may I say the same of you,” she replied.

  I proceeded to break bread with the royal family.

  That, to me, is such a preposterous sentence that I have to write it again: I proceeded to break bread with the royal family.

  The food was beyond all previous definitions of superb. The meat was not tough and stringy, as I’d always expected, but instead crafted so perfectly that it virtually seemed to melt in my mouth. I felt as if my tongue were going to pass out from the richness of the tastes moving over it. The wine kept flowing; every time the contents of my glass lowered, a servant would be there to fill it once more. I felt a sort of giddy warmth, and the singing and laughter and all of it melded together into a gentle, hazy buzzing.

  We ate. We chatted. We laughed about matters which, at the time, had been moments of life and death, but now became simply anecdotes. The time passed, dare I say it, pleasantly. And yet I never lost awareness of the great tapestry behind me, the image that everyone in the place was associating with me … except for me.

  “I have to tell you, Apropos,” Entipy said with a smile, “that I really liked the way you were looking at me when you first got here.”

  “Did you?” I think my smile was somewhat lopsided at that point. I tried to rest my chin on my hand and missed.

  “Yes. I feel as if I surprised you. That’s good. I think you decided that you had me too thoroughly figured out. No girl wants to be that predictable, especially a princess.”

  “Your hair is what threw me the most,” I told her. “Hardly the hue I’d become accustomed to.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “It’s very becoming. But how—?”

  “One of the conveniences of royalty, Apropos,” the princess smiled. “There are weavers who specialize in providing glamour. Weavers for eyes, for mouth … weavers for hair …”

  “Ah. So you had a hair weave done. Very nice.”

  “I’ve had them done before,” said Entipy.

  “Yes, and I’m sure that Apropos would like nothing more than to discuss your ever-changing hair color,” commented the king, and he was starting to rise. “But we have other matters to attend to this night.”

  The king turned to trumpeters w
ho were positioned on the other side of the court and nodded to them. Immediately they blasted a fanfare from their instruments that naturally captured the full and instant attention of everyone in the place. King Runcible spread wide his arms as soon as the silence had fallen.

  “My good and dear knights … lords, ladies, and retainers … as you know, this grand banquet celebrates several happy occasions. First and foremost is the celebration of the coming of age of our beloved princess—Natalia Thomasina Penelope—or, as we lovingly call her, Entipy.”

  There was warm applause from the assemblage as Entipy stood and bowed to them. I had a feeling that if the Faith Women had been in attendance, they would have been less than lovingly inclined toward her.

  “Furthermore,” continued the king, “her presence here is due to the rather singular achievement of one squire. Wise beyond his years … resourceful beyond his training … brave beyond his station … her protector, Squire Apropos.”

  Once more there was applause, and I basked in it. I looked out upon the assemblage, and I wanted to feel contempt for them. I wanted to feel anger. But instead it felt …

  … it felt good.

  More, it felt triumphant.

  The king had stepped back onto a raised platform, and he gestured for me to join him upon it. I had no idea why, but did as he so indicated.

  “This young man, it should be noted,” the king said slowly, “saved not only Entipy’s life … but mine. And he did so through the following means: He convinced me, your sovereign, to dress in fool’s motley and put myself across as a jesting madman.”

  My blood suddenly ran cold. I didn’t like the way he was saying that. I glanced over at the queen and Entipy. Their faces were inscrutable.

  His tone of voice grew more severe. “He then had me climb up to a high wall and, fully at the mercy of enemy arrows, proceed to sing a series of chants, ditties, and songs, some of them so ribald that I would never dare repeat them in the presence of my wife. And while I was doing this … he ran off into the forest.”

  Oh gods …

  “In short … for the purpose of saving your king’s life … he thought nothing of asking me to make a total jackass of myself while he vanished into the protective brush. He did not care about how I appeared … or how he appeared to me … or anything else, except getting out of there alive.”

  And he drew his sword.

  All the feeling went out of my body. The rich meal settling in my stomach prepared to make a return engagement. Stricken with terror, I nearly swooned. As it was, I dropped to my knees in front of him, looking up at that great gleaming blade poised above me.

  This had all been a joke, I realized. A horrific joke on me. Every other person in the place must have known that they were gathered together to fatten up the lamb being led to the slaughter. My likening myself to a chicken being served at the banquet had been more accurate than I’d dreamed; I was about to be quartered like a game hen. And none other than the king was going to be doing the honors.

  All of this went through my horrified mind in an instant, and then the king brought the sword down gently on first one shoulder, and then the other. And as he did, he intoned, “Putting aside the debt that all of us owe you, I dub thee … for your sheer audacity, if nothing else … Sir Apropos of …”

  He blanked and looked at the queen. She shrugged.

  ” … Nothing,” he said with an amused sigh.

  It took a moment for it all to sink in, and what helped was the thunderous applause washing over me. Entipy was helping me to my feet as I looked out upon the assemblage. For one, wild moment I actually thought I saw the shade of my mother. She wasn’t looking at me. She was snagging candy from a large dish. Then she vanished. Trust my mother to have her priorities in order.

  And from within, my conscience said with utter disgust, You have become what you most despised. How does it feel, whore’s son?

  “Superb,” I murmured.

  You’re an idiot.

  “Sod off.”

  The king took a step forward, resting a hand on my shoulder. “I know some of you,” he said, as the applause died and the standing knights took their seats, “may be wondering whether granting Apropos here knighthood—after such a relatively brief time of service, and with such a … curious … background … is truly warranted. My good friends,” and he smiled more broadly, “there are some matters in which even a king has no choice. And that includes matters of the heart. For you see … my daughter’s chosen husband could never be anything less than a knight.”

  I fell again.

  This naturally drew a startled gasp from the assemblage. Runcible looked down at me, slightly puzzled. “Sir Apropos … did you so enjoy the experience of being knighted that you desire me to do it again?”

  Not necessary. Just stick the sword straight out and I’ll throw myself on it, said my inner voice. And this time I was not in disagreement.

  Chapter 29

  “How could you have done that?”

  I was stalking down the corridor, my staff click-clicking on the paving. The pleasant haze that the wine had been instilling in me was long gone. Entipy was walking briskly next to me, trying to keep up.

  The banquet was still going, although it was showing signs of tapering off. After the king’s announcement I had sat there, stunned, a forced smile plastered on my face, nodding in acknowledgment of the many congratulations I was receiving while simultaneously trying to force myself back to wakefulness. Oddly enough, I wasn’t waking up. The only conclusion was that either I was awake, or that I was dead and in hell. I wasn’t sure which option I preferred.

  “Done what?” She sounded genuinely puzzled.

  I whirled to face her. “Done what?! Your father just announced to the entire damned court that you and I are going to be married!”

  “Yes.” The question “So?” was implicit in the tone but unspoken.

  “For crying out loud, Entipy, you didn’t ask me about it! Never consulted with me! Don’t I get to have any say in the matter?”

  “Well … no,” she replied, sounding puzzled that I would even have to ask.

  “No?!” I was stunned. “How can you say no?”

  “It’s not that difficult. Watch.” She carefully positioned her lips and teeth and enunciated, very meticulously, “Nooooo.”

  “You sound like a pessimistic cow.”

  “And you sound like a total ingrate.”

  “Ingrate! Entipy …” I gestured helplessly. “I should get to have some say in the direction my life goes!”

  “Under ordinary circumstances, yes. But you are not an ordinary person, Apropos. You are someone of destiny, and—”

  “Ohhhhh …” I turned away, not wanting to hear that one again, and headed for my quarters, leaving her behind.

  But she didn’t stay left behind. I could hear her footsteps following me, and the chances were that wherever her footsteps were, she was likely accompanying them. I turned at the door of my chambers and faced her. “Leave me alone!” I said.

  “You do not talk to me that way! I am the princess—!”

  “And I’m your ‘intended,’ which means I’ll talk to you any way I like! Or are you going to threaten to chop my head off every day of our married life if you don’t appreciate what I have to say.”

  “Maybe,” she said defiantly.

  “Oh, well, doesn’t that sound like wedded bliss. You’re insane!” I leaned against my doorframe, shaking my head. “And even more insane is your parents going along on this mad venture. What could you possibly have said that would have got them to agree to it?”

  “They respect my wishes and desires. They know I love you …”

  “Love! You don’t know about love! You know nothing of it! To you it’s all a … a game! A romantic notion that grabs whatever fancy may be flittering through that newly blond head of yours! What was it before? Blue, green …”

  “Red, if you must know.”

  “The color of fire. Makes sense �
�”

  “Are we back to that again?” she demanded, looking most agitated. “I told you—”

  “How do I know I can trust you! I mean, look at you! Going behind my back, having us betrothed without whispering a word of it. It’s wonderful that your parents respect your wishes and desires. A shame that you don’t have the same respect for mine. And to be perfectly blunt, Your Highness, if I were your parents, I’d never have given you your way on this … this insane match. Just because you said you wanted to marry me …”

  “Well, there was that … and the fact that I told them you and I had made love.”

  If I hadn’t been holding on to my staff, I would have fallen and this time not gotten up. I could barely get the words out. “You … what?”

  “Told them you and I had made love. Don’t worry … I made it clear that it was what we both wanted.”

  Well, now the solution easily presented itself. I wasn’t going to have to marry her. No one would make me marry a corpse, because I was going to kill her with my bare hands.

  “Made … love … ?” I managed to get out in a strangled voice.

  “That’s right.” Her eyes were blazing bright. “Love like two wild stallions, thundering across a shoreline. Love like two great storm clouds, converging to create a thundering crescendo of—”

  I heard footsteps approaching. I did not need this little lunatic spouting her poetic euphemisms for sex in the middle of the hallway. Things were bad enough as they were. I grabbed her by the elbow and hauled her into my chambers, slamming the door behind us. She seemed startled by the abrupt movement, but then she smiled. I think she liked it.

  I ran back in my mind the conversation I’d had with the queen, the one that left me puzzled. About them understanding about Entipy and me, although the king took some convincing. Well, it was all too clear now, wasn’t it.

  “Love like two crazed weasels—”

  “Shut up!” I snapped, endeavoring to keep my voice down. Sounds tended to carry in these corridors. “How could you have told them that? We didn’t make love!”