Sween Myth-tery of Life m-10

by Robert Asprin

  Massha glanced back and forth between the General and me, then shrugged.

  "Sure thing, Hugh. Gods know I've got enough to keep me busy for a while. Catch you later, Hot Shot."

  The General closed the door behind her, then stood regarding me for several moments. Then he came over to where I was standing and placed both of his hands on my shoulders.

  "Lord Skeeve," he said. "May I be permitted the privilege of speaking to you, of treating you for a few moments as if you were my own son ... or a man under my command in the Army?"

  "Certainly, General," I said, genuinely touched.

  "Fine," he smiled. "Turn around."

  "Excuse me?"

  "I said 'Turn around.' Face in the other direction, if you will."

  Puzzled, I turned my back on him and waited.

  Suddenly, something slammed into my rear end, propelling me forward with such force that I nearly fell, saving myself only by catching my weight with my hands and one knee.

  I was shocked.

  Incredible as it seemed, I had every reason to believe the General had just kicked me in the rump!

  "You kicked me!" I said, still not quite believing it.

  "That's right," Badaxe said calmly. "Frankly, it's long overdue. I had considered hitting you over the head, but it seems that lately your brains are located at the other end."

  Grudgingly, I began to believe it.

  "But why?" I demanded.

  "Because, Lord Skeeve, with all respect and courtesies due your station and rank, it is my studied opinion that you've been acting like the north end of a south-bound horse."

  That was clear enough. Surprisingly poetic for a military man, but clear.

  "Could you be a bit more specific?" I said, with as much dignity as I could muster.

  "I'm referring to your possible marriage to Queen Hemlock, of course," he said. "Or, more specifically, your difficulty in making up your mind. You're agonizing over the decision, when it's obvious to the most casual observer that you don't want to marry her."

  "There are bigger issues at stake here than what I want, General," I said wearily.

  "Bullshit," Badaxe said firmly.

  "What?"

  "I said 'Bullshit,'" the General repeated, "and I meant it. What you want is the only issue worth considering."

  I found myself smiling in spite of my depression.

  "Excuse me, General, but isn't that a little strange coming from you?"

  "How so?"

  "Well, as a soldier, you've devoted your life to the rigors of training and combat. The whole military system is based on self-sacrifice and selfdenial, isn't it?"

  "Perhaps," Badaxe said. "Has it occurred to you, though, that it's simply a means to an end? The whole idea of being prepared for combat is to be able to defend or exert what you want against what someone else wants."

  I sat up straight.

  "I never thought of it that way."

  "It's the only way to think of it," the General said, firmly. "Oh, I know a lot of people see a soldier's life as being subservient. That it's the role of a mindless robot subject to the nonsensical orders and whims of his superior officers ... including Generals. The fact is that an army has to be united in purpose, or it's ineffectual. Each man in it voluntarily agrees to follow the chain of command because it's the most effective way to achieve a common goal. A soldier who doesn't know what he wants or why he's fighting is worthless. Even worse, he's a danger to anyone and everyone who's counting on him."

  He paused, then shook his head.

  "For the moment, however, let's consider this on a smaller scale. Think of a young man who trains himself so that he won't be bullied by older, larger men. He lifts weights to develop his muscles, studies various forms of armed and unarmed combat, and practices long hard hours with one objective in mind: To harden himself to where he won't have to knuckle under to anyone."

  The General smiled.

  "What would you say, then, if that same young man subsequently let every pipsqueak and bravo shove him around because he was afraid he'd hurt them if he pushed back?"

  "I'd say he was a bloody idiot."

  "Yes," Badaxe nodded. "You are."

  "Me?"

  "Certainly," the General said, starting to look a little vexed. "Didn't you recognize yourself in the picture I just described?"

  "General," I said, wearily, "I haven't gotten much sleep for several days now. Forgive me if I'm not tracking at my normal speed, but you're going to have to spell it out for me."

  "Very well. I spoke about a young man building himself up physically. Well, you, my young friend, are probably the most formidable man I know."

  "I am?"

  "Beyond a doubt. What's more, like the young man in my example, you've built yourself up over the years ... even in the time I've known you. With your magikal skills and wealth, not to mention your allies, supporters, and contacts, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. What's more, you've proved that time and time again against some very impressive opposition."

  He smiled and laid a surprisingly gentle hand on my shoulder.

  "And now you tell me that you have to marry Hemlock even though you don't want to? I don't believe it."

  "Well, the option is that she abdicates and I'm stuck with being king," I said, bitterly. "I want that even less."

  "Then don't do that, either," the General shrugged. "How is anyone going to force you to do either if you don't voluntarily go along with it? I know I wouldn't want the job."

  His simple analysis gave me a thread of hope, but I was still reluctant to grab for it.

  "But people are counting on me," I protested.

  "People are counting on you to do what is right for you." Badaxe said firmly. "Though it's hard for you to see, they're assuming that you'll do what you want to do. You should have listened more closely to what my bride to be was saying to you. If you want to marry Queen Hemlock, they'll support you by not standing in the way or giving you grief. Do you really think, though, that if you firmly state that you want to continue working with them, that they won't support that with as much or more enthusiasm? That's what Massha was trying to say, but I think she was saying it too gently for you to hear. Everyone's been too gentle with you. Since you don't seem to know what you want, they've been walking on eggshells around you to let you sort it out. In the meantime, you've been straining to hear what everyone else wants rather than simply relaxing and admitting what you want."

  I couldn't suppress my smile.

  "Well, General," I said, "if there's one thing no one could accuse you of, it would be of not treating me overly gently."

  "It seemed appropriate."

  "That wasn't a complaint," I laughed. I was feeling good now, and didn't bother trying to hide it. "It was admiration ... and thanks."

  I extended my hand. He gathered it into his own and we exchanged a single, brief shake that sealed a new level in our friendship.

  "I take it that you've reached your decision then?" Badaxe said, cocking an eyebrow at me.

  "Affirmative," I smiled. "And your guess as to what it is would be correct. Thank you, sir. I hope it goes without saying that I'd like to return the favor sometime, should the opportunity present itself."

  "Hmmm ... If you could, perhaps, show a little greater interest in the plans for the wedding," the General said. "Particularly if you could come up with a way to shorten the planning procedure?"

  "I can shorten today's session," I said. "Give Massha my apologies, but I feel the need to meet with Queen Hemlock. Perhaps we can continue the session tomorrow."

  "That isn't shortening the process" Badaxe scowled. "It's prolonging it."

  "Sorry, General" I laughed, heading out the back door. "The only other suggestion I'd have is to convince her to elope. I'll hold the ladder for you."

  Chapter Nineteen:

  "There must be fifty ways to leave your lover!"

  P. SIMON

  MY MIND FINALLY made up at last, I set out t
o give the news to Queen Hemlock. I mean, since she was waiting for a decision from me, it wouldn't be right to delay sharing it once it had been made. Right? The fact that if I waited too long, I might chicken out entirely had nothing to do with it. Right?

  Suddenly, I was very aware of the absence of my bodyguards. When I had given them their assignment to distribute my unwanted cash, it had been under the assumption that I was in no particular danger while here at the palace.

  Now, I wasn't so sure.

  I had noticed back when we first met, when I was masquerading as King Rodrick, that Queen Hemlock had a nasty, perhaps even a murderous streak in her. There had been no evidence of it lately, but then again, I wasn't aware of her having received any bad news of a degree such as I was bringing her, either.

  I shook my head and told myself I was being silly. At her worst, the Queen was not taken to open, unpremeditated violence. If it looked like she was taking the news badly, I could simply gather the crew and skip off to another dimension before she could get around to formulating a plan for revenge. There was absolutely no reason for me to need bodyguards to protect me from her. Right?

  I was still trying to convince myself of this when I reached the Queen's chambers. The honor guard standing outside her door snapped to attention, and it was too late for a graceful retreat.

  Moving with a casualness I didn't feel, I knocked on her door.

  "Who is it?"

  "It's Skeeve, Your Majesty. I was wondering if I might speak to you if it's not inconvenient?"

  There was a pause, long enough for me to get my hope up, and then the door opened.

  "Lord Skeeve. This is a pleasant surprise. Please, come right in."

  Queen Hemlock was dressed in a simple orange gown, which was a pleasant surprise. That she was dressed, that is, not the color of it. The first time she had entertained me in her quarters, she had been naked when she opened the door, and it had put me at an uncomfortable disadvantage for that conversation. This time around, I figured I was going to need all the advantages I could muster.

  "Your Majesty," I said, entering the room. I looked about quickly as she was shutting the door, and, when she turned, gestured toward a chair. "Please, if you could take a seat?"

  She raised a questioning eyebrow at me, but took the indicated seat without argument.

  "What's this all about, Skeeve?" she said. "You look so solemn."

  There was no way of stalling further, so I plunged in.

  "I wanted to let you know that I've made my decision regarding marrying you," I said.

  "And that is?"

  "I ... Your Majesty, I'm both honored and flattered that you would consider me worthy of being your consort. I had never dreamed that such a possibility existed, and, when it was suggested, had to take time to examine the concept."

  "And ..." she urged.

  I realized that no amount of sugar coating would change the basic content of my decision, so I simply went for it.

  "My final conclusion," I said, "is that I'm not ready for marriage at this time ... to you or anyone else. To try to pretend otherwise would be a vast disservice to that person ... and to myself. Between my work and studies as a magician, and my desire to travel and visit other dimensions, I simply have no time or interest in settling down right now. If I did, I would doubtless end up resenting whoever or whatever had forced me to do so. As such, I fear I must decline your kind offer."

  Having said it, I braced myself for her reaction.

  "Okay," she said.

  I waited for a moment for her to continue, but when she didn't, I felt compelled to.

  "As to your abdicating the throne to me ... Your Majesty, I beg you to reconsider. I have no qualifications or desire to be the ruler of a kingdom. At best, I'm a good advisor ... and even that's only with the considerable help of my colleagues and friends. I fear that if I were to attempt to undertake such a responsibility, the kingdom would suffer badly ... I know I would ... and ... and ..."

  My oration ground to a halt as I saw that she was laughing.

  "Your Majesty? Excuse me. Did I say something funny?"

  "Oh Skeeve," she gasped, coming up for air. "Did you really think ... Of course I'm not going to give up the throne. Are you kidding? I love being Queen."

  "You do? But you said ..."

  "Oh, I say lots of things," she said, waving a negligent hand. "One of the nice things about being royalty is that you get to decide for yourself which of the things you say are for real and which should be ignored."

  To say the least, I was confused.

  "Then why did you say that if you didn't intend to follow through?" I said. "And how about your marriage proposal? Didn't you mean that, either?"

  "Oh, I meant it all right," she smiled. "But I didn't really expect you to want to marry me. I mean, why should you? You've already got wealth and power without being tied down to a throne or a wife. Why should you want to stay here and play second banana to me when you could be off hopping around the world or wherever it is that you go as the one and only Great Skeeve? It would have been fabulous lor me and the kingdom to have you tied into us permanently, but there weren't any real benefits for you. That's why I came up with that abdication thing."

  "Abdication thing?" I echoed weakly.

  "Sure. I knew you didn't want to be a king. If you had, you would have kept the throne back when Roddie had you pose as him. Anyway, I figured that if you didn't want it bad enough, it just might make a big enough threat to lure you into playing consort for me instead."

  She made a little face.

  "I know it was weak, but it was the only card I had to play. What else could I do? Threaten you? With what? Even it I managed to come up with something that would present a threat to you and that menagerie of yours, all you'd have to do is wave your hands and blink off to somewhere else. It simply wouldn't be worth the effort and expense to keep tracking you down ... no offense. Going with the abdication thing, I at least had a chance of getting you to consider marrying me ... and if nothing came of it, no harm done."

  I thought of the days and nights I had been spending agonizing over my decision. Then I thought about throttling the Queen.

  "No harm done," I agreed.

  "So," she said, settling back in her chair, "that's that. No marriage, no abdication. At least we can still be friends, can't we?"

  "Friends? "I blinked.

  Even though I had met her some time back, I had never really thought of Queen Hemlock as a friend.

  "Why not?" she shrugged. "If I can't have you as a consort, I'm willing to give it a try as a friend. From what I've seen, you're pretty loyal to your friends, and I'd like to have some tie to you."

  "But why should that be important to you? You're a Queen, and the ruler of a fairly vast kingdom to boot."

  Hemlock cocked her head at me curiously.

  "You really don't know, do you Skeeve? You're quite a powerful man yourself, Skeeve. I'd much rather have you as an ally, to the kingdom and for myself, than as an enemy. If you check around, I think you'll find a lot of people who would."

  That sounded remarkably like what Badaxe had pointed out to me earlier.

  "Besides," the Queen added, "you're a nice guy, and I don't really have many friends. You know, people I can talk to as equals who aren't afraid of me? I think in the long run, we have more problems in common than you realize."

  "Except I'm in a better position to still be able to do what I want," I finished thoughtfully.

  "Don't rub it in," Hemlock said, wrinkling her nose. "Well, what do you say? Friends?"

  "Friends," I smiled.

  On an impulse, I took her hand and kissed it lightly, then stood holding it for a few moments.

  "If I may, Your Majesty, let me add my personal thanks to you for taking my refusal so well? Even if you more than half expected it, it still must have stung your pride a bit. It must have been tempting to make me squirm a little in return."

  The Queen threw back her head and laugh
ed again.

  "It wouldn't be real smart of me to give you a rough time, now, would it?" she said. "As I said before, you can be a real help to the kingdom, Skeeve, even if it only means hiring you occasionally as an independent contractor. If I made you feel too bad about not marrying me, then you wouldn't ever want to see me or the kingdom again."

  "I really don't know," I admitted. "The court of Possiltum gave me my first paying job as a magician. I'll probably always have a bit of a soft spot for it. Then, too, Your Majesty is not without charm as a woman."

  That last bit sort of slipped out, but the Queen didn't seem to mind.

  "Just not quite charming enough to settle down with, eh?" she smiled. "Well, let me know when you have some leisure time on your hands, and maybe we can explore some alternatives together."

  That really took me aback.

  "Ahh ... certainly, Your Majesty. In the meantime, however, I fear it's nearly time for my colleagues and I to take our leave of Possiltum. From what Grimble tells me, the kingdom is nearly back on solid financial footing, and there are pressing matters which require our attention elsewhere."

  "Of course," she said, rising to her feet. "Go with my personal gratitude, as well as the fees you so richly deserve. I'll be in touch."

  I was so uncomfortable about the reference to our fees, that I was nearly to the door before her last comment sank in.

  "Umm ... Your Majesty?" I said, turning back to her. "One more thing. Next time you need me, could you just write a note like everyone else instead of sending me a finger? It was a bit unnerving when it arrived."

  "No problem," she said. "By the way, could I have the finger back? If nothing else, I'd like to have the ring to remember Roddie by."

  "I thought you had it." I frowned. "I haven't seen it since our conversation when I first got back here."

  "Hmm ... I wonder where it's gotten to. Oh well, I'll put the maids to work looking for it. If you happen to come across it in your things, be a dear and send it back to me?"

  "Certainly, Your Majesty. Goodbye."

  With that, I gave her my deepest bow and left.