A Hard Day's Knight

by Simon R. Green

  “You could go back,” I said. “I’m pretty sure they’d take you back.”

  “No,” he said immediately. “Not after all the things I’ve done. Not after letting the elves into Castle Inconnu. My brother knights might forgive me, but I never could. I need ... to redeem myself. To atone for all the wrongs I’ve done.”

  “ ‘I could not love thee, dear, half so much ...’” said Julianne.

  “Loved I not honour more,” said Stark.

  “Then stay here,” I said. “This world needs a King to lead it out of darkness. Who better than a man who knows the darkness in himself? It won’t be easy; not after centuries of ingrained corruption and evil. But the sheer number of bodies nailed up here shows that Merlin didn’t have it all his own way. You could spend a lifetime in this land, trying to put things right. Surely that’s enough atonement for anyone.”

  “You could be right,” said Stark. He looked at the two iron thrones. “But I’m damned if I’m sitting on one of those ugly things.”

  We all looked round sharply at an unexpected noise; and there, in the middle of the Court, a fountain sprang up. Clear, bubbling freshwater, rising a good twenty feet into the air, falling down to wash away all the years of accumulated blood and filth on the floor. And out of that clear water stepped a tall young woman in a long blue gown, with dark hair and a face I immediately recognised. Gaea, mother of the world. It only took me a moment to realise this wasn’t the same woman I’d met in Castle Inconnu; this Gaea was gaunt and harried and had nothing of Gayle’s easy humanity. This was the Queen of all the Earth, free at last of Merlin’s domination, come walking amongst us.

  She smiled on us all and nodded easily to me. “You’re still not worthy, but my sister chose well when she granted you dispensation to bear Excalibur. Be grateful. It’s not every man who gets to be the world’s champion.” She turned to look at Stark. “The land needs a King,” she said bluntly. “You have my blessing. You do know who I am, don’t you, Jerusalem Stark?”

  “I know who you must be, Lady,” he said. “But ... I must be honest with you. I don’t know anything about being a King.”

  “Best kind,” Gaea said briskly. “It’s always the ones from long lines of succession who cause no end of problems. They have so much to unlearn. You can do this, Jerusalem. But you won’t have to do it alone.”

  She turned her gaze upon the ghost Julianne. “You’re not nearly as dead as you think, my dear. You soul was bound to your heart; you are dead but not departed. And so I call you back, to the man and the world that needs you.”

  Julianne cried out as she suddenly snapped into focus; real and solid, flesh and blood, and very much alive. She breathed deeply and clapped her hands to her chest, to feel her heart beat and her lungs move; then she laughed aloud and threw her arms round an unbelieving Stark, and the two of them hugged each other like they’d never let go. Gaea looked on them fondly.

  “Don’t you love a happy ending?” said Suzie.

  “It’s not over yet,” I said.

  Suzie looked at me. “What?”

  SEVEN

  Return of the King

  “What do you mean, it’s not over yet?” said Suzie. “Who is there left to kill that needs killing?”

  “We still have to find a way home,” I said, in that calm, kind, and very reasonable tone I happen to know drives her absolutely batshit. “The Door we came through doesn’t exist in this dimension, and my Portable Timeslip doesn’t work here.”

  Suzie sniffed. “When in doubt, go to the top. Why don’t you ask Gaea? Maybe she could ... ring up her opposite number. Or something.”

  “Full marks for optimism,” I murmured. “But any port in a storm ... I really don’t feel like walking home.”

  “Not through all that mud,” said Suzie. I can never tell when she’s joking.

  So we went over to Sinister Albion’s Gaea, and I bowed politely and explained the situation. Gaea started nodding half-way through and actually interrupted me before I could finish.

  “I know who you are,” she said. “And how and why you came here. I know you because your world’s Gaea knows you. We’re all aspects of the same person, or personification. It’s complicated.”

  “Really,” I said. “You do surprise me.”

  “You want a slap?” said Gaea. “Then pipe down and pay attention. Of course I can get you home. All Earths are linked, on all kinds of levels. From the Dreamtime to the Chronoflow, you can always find some Door to open if you knock loudly enough. Ah ... It’s good to be back! I have been asleep for far too long, John Taylor, and you are responsible for waking me. It was the presence of Excalibur in this land that brought me back, you see, an Excalibur that wasn’t mine. I came here to investigate and found that you and your friends had already brought down Merlin Satanspawn and Morgan Le Fae, and set free all the trapped souls of this world. If I’d known it was that easy, I’d have done it myself centuries ago. Ah well ... Now that I’m back, I think I’ll stick round for a while to see what happens next. Stark and Julianne seem capable enough, and there’s a lot to be done. I am ... weakened by Merlin’s long centuries of abuse, but I am still Mother Earth, and all this land’s secrets are an open book to me.

  “Now I have to talk to you, John Taylor, about the sword you carry, the Excalibur of your world. It was given to you because you have a destiny.”

  It was my turn to interrupt her. “If you’re about to tell me that it is my duty to be King of the Nightside, you can forget it. I’ve already turned that down once. I didn’t want it then, and I don’t want it now.”

  “Good,” said Gaea. “Because you’re not worthy.”

  “You want a slap?” said Suzie. “Or failing that, two barrels of blessed and cursed ammo right between the eyes?”

  “Please don’t upset the planetary personification,” I murmured. “Particularly one who’s about to provide us with a ride home.”

  “Don’t get sassy with me, little miss,” said Gaea. “Or I’ll give you a period you’ll never forget.” She gave me her full attention. “You were given your special dispensation to bear Excalibur, for a time, because it is your duty and destiny to deliver the sword to King Arthur. The once-and-future King of your world. You get to do this because you are one of the few people who wouldn’t be tempted to hang on to the sword for yourself. You have already faced greater temptations and did not yield. You have no idea how rare that is.”

  “All right,” I said. “Putting aside for the moment a whole bunch of questions and denials, why Arthur? And why now?”

  “King Arthur is the only one who can stop the coming elf civil war,” said Gaea. “Which will quite definitely devastate your world, and destroy all of Humanity, when the elves use the Earth as their battle-field. Both sides have had centuries to prepare for this war; and they have more powerful weapons, both magical and scientific, than all of the human nations put together. The elves will tear your world apart, fighting over it. Only King Arthur can prevent this.”

  I considered Gaea thoughtfully. “Wouldn’t the Gaea of my world prefer the elves in charge rather than Humanity? After all the ecological damage my people have done?”

  “The elves would be worse,” Gaea said flatly. “The elves don’t have Humanity’s conscience or restraint.”

  “We beat the elves before,” said Suzie.

  “No, you didn’t,” Gaea said crushingly. “You outbred and outnumbered them. And you had the Droods on your side. They found the Sundered Lands for the elves, when asked to by the elves. By that time, they wanted to leave the Earth. There are lots of theories as to why, but nobody really knows. Not even my other self. In fact, some of the elves were so ... concerned, they hid themselves away in Shadows Fall, because they thought that would be safer. But the elves did not prosper, in either of their new homes, and now they wish to return and claim the Earth for themselves again. Whoever or whatever they might once have been afraid of, apparently that isn’t so any more.”

  “I spy a sm
all but subtle hole in the whole destiny thing,” I said. “How am I supposed to get Excalibur to King Arthur when nobody knows where he is? Even the London Knights don’t know, and if the London bloody Knights don’t know ...”

  “Use your gift,” said Gaea. “Find him.”

  “Ah,” I said. “Now why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Because it’s all a wild goose chase?” said Suzie.

  “There is still the problem of how we get home,” I said to Gaea, in my very best polite and respectful tone.

  “Walk into my fountain,” said Gaea. “I am still the Lady of the Lake, and all waters are mine.”

  She smiled at me, ignored Suzie, turned her back on us, and strode away to talk with Stark and Julianne. Suzie and I turned to look at the fountain through which Gaea arrived. It was still shooting a good twenty feet into the air, its cool clear waters bubbling noisily. There was an increasingly large area of clean marble floor round it. I hoped the Court had good drainage.

  “It’s a fountain,” said Suzie. “Great big bubbly water thing. It doesn’t even look like a Doorway.”

  “It’s not like we’re loaded down with options,” I said. “Maybe the Doorway’s behind the water.”

  Suzie walked round it twice. “Not a sign.”

  “You can be so literal, sometimes,” I said.

  I walked into the fountain, and Suzie strode quickly along beside me, her head held high. I grabbed her by the hand, so that whatever happened we wouldn’t be separated, and barely had time to take a really deep breath before the water closed over both of us. My first thought was of how cool and refreshing the water felt after so long in the filth and stench of Sinister Albion, then the floor dropped out from under my feet, and I was falling helplessly. I clamped down hard on Suzie’s hand, and she held on to me just as tightly, but I couldn’t see her anywhere. There was nothing but the water, rushing past me as I fell and fell into endless depths. My lungs strained for air, and I hoped Suzie had thought to take a deep breath, too. We sank down and down, then suddenly, without actually changing direction, we were rising, forced up by the pressure of the rushing water, until finally Suzie and I broke the surface together. A low stone wall appeared before me, and I grabbed on to it with my free hand. Suzie was right there beside me, and we hung on to the wall together, gasping like beached fish. It was only then that I realised we were in the oracle wishing well, in the Mammon Emporium.

  Suzie and I clung to the stone wall while the oracle made loud coughing and hacking noises and complained bitterly about frogs in its throat. My lungs were working overtime, my heart was hammering in my chest, and I was soaked right down to the skin; but still, it was good to be home. I grinned at Suzie, and she smiled briefly back. We’d survived another one.

  “Where the hell have you been?” screeched the oracle. “And what in God’s good Earth have you been treading in? I’m never going to get this taste out of my mouth. And oh my God, it’s that woman again. You peed in me, you bitch! Just for that, I’m going to tell everyone who asks me about their future that they can be King of Everything if only they’ll kill you first.”

  “One more nasty word out of you,” I said, “and I will have you filled up to the brim with concrete. The Mall owes me a favour.”

  “Bully,” muttered the oracle.

  After a while, Suzie and I hauled ourselves up and out of the wishing well, then stomped in circles round it, trying to wring the water out of our clothes. But you can’t really wring water out of a trench coat—or, indeed, black leathers. Besides which, despite our complete immersion in Gaea’s marvellous waters, our clothes were still incredibly filthy. And disgustingly smelly. The bottom half of my trench coat had turned a completely new and revolting colour, from dried blood and mud and other things I didn’t want to look at too closely. And I didn’t even want to think about what was squelching inside my shoes. Suzie’s leathers were caked in a kind of nasty-smelling crust, and she was leaving a trail behind her.

  “We need a cleaner,” I said firmly. “I am not walking round the Nightside looking and smelling like this. Even Razor Eddie doesn’t smell this bad, and he sleeps in doorways. People would point and throw things.”

  “Not twice, they wouldn’t,” said Suzie.

  We ended up at Unconventional Solutions, a twenty-four-hour emergency cleaners that boasted it could handle absolutely anything, from dragon’s blood to Martian slime. If you can beat it down with a stick and wrestle it through the door, we can make it shine and sparkle! promised the sign over the door. So Suzie and I walked in, and a moment later, everyone else rushed out. It might have been because they recognised Suzie and me, or it might have been because of the smell, which was so intense it practically had its own colour. The girl trapped behind the counter, wearing a smart white outfit, and a badge that said HI! I’M TRACY, glared at both of us with open loathing.

  “Well, thanks a whole bunch for the loss of custom. Though if I weren’t pinned behind this desk, I would also be legging it for the nearest horizon. What is that smell? It’s worse than the toilets at a vegetarian restaurant. It’s like tear gas! My eyes, my eyes ... What is that?”

  “Trust me,” I said. “You really don’t want to know. Can you do anything with these clothes?”

  Tracy sniffed loudly. “How about shooting them, then burying them at sea?”

  “You do know who I am, don’t you?” said Suzie.

  “Of course. They put warning posters about you all over the Mall.”

  “You really want me to get cranky?”

  “You wouldn’t like her when she’s cranky,” I said solemnly.

  “Strip it all off and stick them in the bags provided,” Tracy said resignedly. “I suppose you want the Emergency Special Biohazard Deep Clean While You Wait service?”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said.

  Tracy pointed to the changing cubicles, and Suzie and I chose one each. Togetherness is all very well, but the smell was bad enough on its own. Combined together in a small space, it would probably have blown the door off the cubicle. I removed my trench coat with great care, looked at the state of the clothes underneath, gulped, and took it all off. I bundled everything up, being very careful what I touched, packed it into the black plastic garbage bag provided, slipped on the complimentary dressing gown, and stepped out of the cubicle. Suzie was already there waiting for me, with her own bulging bag. She was also wearing a dressing gown. Mine was a smart navy blue, hers was a shocking pink. She looked at me.

  “One wrong word at this moment, and you will never see me naked again.”

  “Perish the thought,” I said gallantly.

  We took our bags over to the counter, and Tracy accepted them from us while wearing heavy-duty rubber gloves. She held the bags at arm’s length, pulled a variety of faces, none of them good, and glared at Suzie and me.

  “Did you remember to empty everything out of the pockets?”

  “Don’t worry about the trench coat,” I said. “It can take care of itself. Suzie?”

  “I already removed the weapons,” said Suzie. “They’re in another bag, back in the cubicle. Don’t let anyone touch that bag if they like having all their fingers.”

  Tracy slapped two customer numbers on the counter before us and disappeared out the back with the bags. There was a pause, followed by some loud if rather muffled bad language. Suzie and I moved away from the counter and went to sit in the chairs provided and read the nice magazines. I settled down with the Nightside edition of Empire, and read what Kim Newman had to say about the latest films: Butch Cassidy and the Cthulhu Kid, Clive Barker’s Transformers, and the rediscovered Orson Welles classic, his Batman movie, Citizen Wayne. Sometimes it’s nice to sit back, put your feet up, and enjoy a little light reading. Suzie had Which Magazine: Weapons of Mass Destruction, A Consumer’s Guide.

  I could still feel Excalibur in its invisible scabbard on my back. Removing my clothes hadn’t disturbed it in the least.

  Our clothes were back insi
de half an hour, spotlessly clean and impressively immaculate. My trench coat was so white it practically glowed, while someone had taken the time to polish every last bit of metal on Suzie’s outfit, from the rivets to the steel toe-caps to all the remaining bullets in her bandoliers. Suzie and I took our clothes back into the cubicles, and I soon emerged feeling like a new man. And able to breathe through my nose again. Suzie stepped out of her cubicle, fussing with the two bandoliers so they crossed right over her bosom. She never looks impressed with anything, on general principles, but she didn’t seem too displeased. Tracy beckoned us back to the counter and slapped the bill down before me. I took a look. I didn’t know numbers went that high. For a moment, I actually considered telling her to put all the filth back on. Instead, I shook my head and smiled condescendingly at Tracy.

  “I have decided I don’t need to pay any of my bills in the Mammon Emporium. Partly because I am the new Walker, and if any establishment annoys me, I can have it shut down on moral health grounds. But mostly because I have recently saved this entire place from being blown up by a soulbomb, and if anyone gets stroppy, I can always bring back the Things from Outside and let the merchants deal with the bloody things. Any questions?”

  “Go ahead,” said Tracy. “See if I care. They don’t pay me enough to deal with people like you.”

  “There are no people like us,” said Suzie.

  “Got that right,” I said.

  Squeaky clean and utterly fragrant, Suzie and I made the long trip out of the Nightside and back into London Proper. Suzie insisted on accompanying me this time, and I didn’t have the heart to say no. She stuck close to me at all times, and though she wouldn’t give up any of her weapons, she at least kept her hands away from them. People gave us all kinds of funny looks as we strode down Oxford Street, but no-one actually said anything. They didn’t want to get involved. We finally came to a halt in front of where the Green Door wasn’t, and I struck an impressive pose.