The Idiot King

by Patty Jansen

  Footsteps in the corridor.

  Johanna pressed herself against the wall.

  Someone, no more than a ghostly shape, walked into the room. The glare of the moonlight showed only a light-coloured shirt. No one wore those, except . . .

  “Roald?”

  “Nobody touches my women,” came Roald’s voice out of the dark.

  Johanna stumbled to the door. She didn’t worry where Kylian was. Didn’t care. She fell into Roald’s arms. He’d been holding something—a broom or a shovel—which he dropped with a clang and held her awkwardly.

  “You came back for me.”

  “I’m sorry we were late. We fell asleep. The Shepherd woke us up.”

  Magic. It was affecting them all. She should probably be angry that he hadn’t obeyed her and hadn’t left this side of the river, but for now, she was glad that he had come.

  “I love you,” she said into his chest.

  “It’s my task to say that.”

  She held him, feeling his warmth through the wetness of her clothes.

  “We must get out of here quickly, Your Majesty.” This voice belonged to Shepherd Carolus, whose presence was nothing more than a huge grey shape in the hall.

  Johanna pushed herself out of Roald’s arms. “Yes, we must go, immediately.” Before Kylian turned up, wherever he had gone. Then she thought of the shovel Roald had been holding, and felt ill with the thought that Kylian might be lying on the floor unconscious somewhere in the house. Part of her wanted to go and look for him, to see if he was all right. That was the magic affecting her and she must fight it. She wouldn’t ask Roald or Shepherd Carolus about him, or at least not until they were safely out of here. Not until there was no way magic could sabotage their escape.

  Karl and the two scouts waited in the moonlit courtyard with Selmus the stallion. Roald lifted Johanna onto his warm and hairy back. There was no saddle. “I don’t know if I can ride like this,” She protested weakly. She was feeling dizzy all of a sudden.

  “Hold on with your legs. We won’t be going fast.”

  From somewhere within one of the surrounding buildings came a squawking. “What is that sound?”

  “We locked the geese in the chapel,” Karl said and he chuckled. “Someone will have a nasty surprise when he comes in for prayer tomorrow morning.”

  And by the lightening of the sky along the eastern horizon, the morning wasn’t all that far away.

  Roald took Selmus by the reins. Oh, those first few steps were wobbly. Johanna was still feeling dizzy and there was nowhere to hold on except the mane, but didn’t everyone always say never hold on to a horse’s mane? But after a while she became used to the horse’s movement. Selmus was clearly a workhorse having endured much worse treatment than someone clumsily trying to stay on his back.

  They left the courtyard for the main road that ran from the jetty to the hilltop farmhouse. The road sloped into a shallow valley where milking cows stood looking forlorn in the pre-dawn mist that hung low over the grass.

  As they passed, swirls of mist oozed from the creek, stretching long ethereal fingers towards the road.

  Shepherd Carolus at the front of the column hesitated. Roald stopped behind him, holding the horse’s headgear.

  “What is that mist doing?” the Shepherd said.

  “Yeah, I don’t like this one bit,” said one of the scouts. Johanna believed the man’s name was Willem. “See how the cows have all gotten up and come to the fence?”

  They stood in a row facing the road.

  “I’ve seen this happen at the chapel, but never here,” the other man said.

  “We didn’t go this way often,” Willem said.

  “True.”

  “Keep going,” Johanna said, her voice low. “Ignore it.”

  “The queen knows all about magic,” the Shepherd said, and that scared Johanna more than anything. She knew nothing, except one thing: trying to get out of here was infinitely better than staying.

  Slowly, they continued along the low-lying section of the road. The excess of rain had made the path muddy, but this area was naturally wet. Reeds and watercress grew in the meadows on either side.

  Karl walked so close to the horse that Johanna’s leg brushed his arm.

  The mist continued branching out towards the road, now covering half the meadow. It was clear that they weren’t going to make it to the jetty without having to confront whatever apparition was going to come out of the mist.

  “Go and cut me a willow branch,” Johanna said to Karl.

  “But . . .” he said in a squeak.

  “That tree over there.” Johanna pointed.

  He trotted to the fence and came back not much later with a long and floppy branch. What sort of willow was this?

  Johanna held the twig, which resembled a whip more than a weapon.

  And still the mist oozed out of the hollows and marshy areas. This entire land bled magic. Every person who ever died on this land had a ghost in that mist somewhere, because who ever died with all their business taken care of?

  Their voices whispered in Johanna’s ears. It didn’t look like Roald of Karl could hear them, but they could definitely see the tendrils of mist that formed into human shapes, that crossed the meadow in the direction of the road, that reached emaciated, bony hands to the living humans. Many of them were apparitions, not senseless ghosts.

  “Can we please go faster?” Karl’s voice sounded high.

  Roald urged the horse on. Whoa! That suddenly made the rocking worse. The horse’s back was slippery with the animal’s fine coat. Johanna squeezed her legs. She groped for the horse’s mane. Never mind the horse wouldn’t like it. Both Karl and Roald were almost running now. It was still a fair way to the jetty, and Johanna wasn’t sure that she would be able to stay on. Her backside bumped onto the horse’s back with each step it took.

  “Wait, wait. Please stop. Let me down, I can walk—”

  The road trembled. The gravel moved as if pushed up from underneath by a giant hand. A mount of dirt grew higher and higher until the top bloomed open. A hiss of cold air streamed out. Karl screamed. The horse reared. Johanna slid from its back into the mud.

  Ouch. She sat in the wet grass while water seeped up her skirt. The two scouts were running to the jetty. Roald had grabbed Selmus’ reins and was trying to calm the horse, but the white showed in the corners of the horse’s eyes. Shepherd Carolus stood in the middle of the road chanting prayers. He held up his pendant with the sign of the Triune.

  Where was the willow branch? She crawled on her hands and knees in the mud, her movements restricted by her wet clothes.

  “Look, look!” Karl yelled.

  Johanna didn’t need to look to know that a ghost had emerged. The man’s figure was brilliant white with flowing, curly hair. His face had strong cheekbones and intense, not too deep-set eyes. His chin was strong but not angular. His nose was straight without being sharp or thin. His lips were full. It was the most handsome man she had ever seen. It was a perfect version of Kylian.

  What? “What did you do to him with that shovel?” she asked Roald.

  “The idiot did nothing,” Kylian said and laughed. “He couldn’t harm me if he tried. I am one of the few people who can transcend the borders between life and death at will.”

  No one could do that. It was a trick. It had to be.

  “Keep away from her,” Roald said, lifting the shovel. Johanna realised It has a wooden handle.

  “Give that to me.” She pulled at it.

  “I will protect you.”

  “You can’t protect me from magic and keep control of the horse at the same time. Take the horse and the others to safety.” She managed to get hold of the handle—she saw a monk shovelling manure from the barn into a cart—and faced the apparition.

  The men stared at her.

  “No, Johanna!” Roald called.

  Johanna shouted, “Run to the boat! Now. Go!”

  They backed away, hesitantly.


  The apparition said. “You have worked it out. We can be dispelled with a simple piece of wood. But that doesn’t even come close to killing us. Nothing can kill us. We always come back bigger and more frightening.” He reached out, and Johanna held the shovel before her.

  He laughed, but backed away from the wood. “Run now, little princess. You will live a bit longer. There will be a day that you will come back to beg me for my help. That day may be sooner than you think.”

  His ghostly form dissolved. Ice-cold wind whooshed over her head.

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  Chapter 21

  * * *

  JOHANNA RAN.

  Roald and Karl were already in the dinghy with the Shepherd and the two scouts still on the jetty. Roald was trying to reel in the sea cows’ ropes, but the animals were nervous and kept tangling the gear. They clambered in the boat, which wobbled with the weight of all these people. Karl kept a nervous eye on the water level on the outside of the hull.

  The sea cows were tugging at the harness. It was impossible to reel them in so they’d have to do that after casting off. Johanna unhooked the rope from the pylon and the animals took off with such speed that she almost fell overboard. They tore across the churning expanse of water.

  A dense mist hung over the far bank, blanketing the camp. Even before the forms of the tents resolved from the mist, the sound of shouts drifted in the stillness.

  A chill went over Johanna’s back. “Did anything happen in the camp?”

  No one knew the answer to that question.

  Johanna peered through the mist.

  People were running down the riverbank and up the jetty, men women and children, all bunching into a large group in front of the Prosperity’s gangplank.

  A man yelled. “Oh, look, they’re back!”

  “They’ve got the Shepherd!”

  “And Ko and Willem.”

  “Thank the heavens.”

  It looked like half the camp was there, and a lot of people carried bags, too.

  Johanna tossed the rope up the jetty and climbed out of the boat. Many hands helped the men up. The young scouts both had family in the camp who greeted them with squeals of happiness. The Shepherd received a hero’s welcome.

  A man yelled, “Make room for the king and queen!”

  People shuffled aside to form a path.

  Johanna spotted Captain Arense. “What’s going on?”

  “The camp was overrun by ghosts this morning,” he said. “They came out of the river and all the marsh areas and drifted between the tents. Some people tried to fight them with burning torches, and some tents caught fire. Some are still burning.”

  “Was anyone hurt?”

  “Not badly, no. People panicked and came here. We decided that we’re leaving. I don’t know what we’ll find downstream, but it can’t be any worse than this.”

  Johanna nodded. She agreed.

  There were a lot of people already crammed on board the Prosperity and more people continued to climb aboard. Her eyes met those of Johan Delacoeur across the crowd. He didn’t sneer. In fact, his expression was haunted. It had taken a long time, but Johanna thought he finally believed her. He gave a barely perceptible nod. She nodded back at him. A tiny measure of respect.

  There was a great splashing in the water, where a sea cow threshed its tail on the surface while the deck hand tried to reel in the ropes. The animals were nervous, too. They wouldn’t come. They wormed themselves out of their harnesses. They tangled up the ropes.

  Loesie and Nellie stood with Master Deim in the deck of the Lady Sara

  “Get the animals!” Johanna called out to Loesie and Loesie ran to the front, hopefully to do as ordered.

  On the other side of the jetty, Karl was leading people to the Prosperity. Men in the camp were still trying to put out the fires which burned in the hay stores and some of the primitive wooden constructions that served as outdoor kitchen or overflow housing. There was no sign of any ghosts, but the sun was rising and ghosts did not usually appear in sunlight. Who knew what the night would bring, though? They were downstream from the farm, and the murky, magic-infused water flowed right past the camp. She had always wondered why the Baron hadn’t offered a field closer to town. Now she knew.

  Captain Arense yelled that everyone should go down into the hold. Wives called for husbands or children. It was too dark down in the hold to recognise faces.

  She called, “Anyone who can’t find a spot, come to the Lady Sara.”

  A line of people started up the gangplank to the Lady Sara. Nellie guided them to the rear deck and to begin filling up the hold covers from the rear. Entire families dumped their bags, blankets and other meagre possessions onto the lids. Johanna hoped that there was going to be enough room for everyone. The part of the camp she could see was starting to look deserted. Some people had even taken down the tents and covered themselves and others with the canvas. Roald had taken care of a couple of young children. One of the girls carried a lamb.

  She shouted to Captain Arense, “Do you think we have everyone?”

  Everyone who wanted to come, at any rate. She hadn’t seen either Ignatius Hemeldinck or Fleuris LaFontaine.

  Whether the camp was empty or not, they were out of time. A couple of the Baron’s men rode into the camp from the main road. Their horses moved in full gallop, manes and hair flying. The first one carried a banner.

  Johanna panicked. Kylian.

  People on the deck had seen them, too, and panicked talk spread over the deck.

  “Get ready, we’re out of here!” Johanna yelled at Loesie and Nellie.

  She cast the first rope loose. Then she ran to the back deck and loosened the second one. The rope was rough and cut her hands when sliding around the post. While the horses came down the riverbank, the Lady Sara drifted away from the jetty. The horses tore over the wooden planks with a thundering of hooves. Johanna held her breath. The front rider rode a warhorse and carried a sword and crossbow. He wasn’t going to jump, was he?

  The gap between the jetty and the boat grew, but not fast enough for her liking.

  Johanna bit her lip. Come on, come on, come on.

  The horse came closer and closer—

  And the rider pulled hard on the reins. The horse slid to a halt and reared with a screaming neigh. His comrades pulled up behind with a good amount of snorting and swearing.

  The Lady Sara and Prosperity drifted away from the shore, with nothing but churning, magic-infused water separating them.

  The leader yelled across the water. Obscenities, no doubt.

  The current pulled hard at the ship. Loesie and Roald had managed to pull in the sea cows in their proper formation and gave them free rein to swim as fast as they could.

  Behind them, a man’s voice yelled, “Eeeeyup!” and there was the sharp sound of a stick being banged against the hull to frighten the animals into going faster. Johanna spotted Master Deim and Karl on the deck.

  The Baron’s men turned their horses away from the jetty and ran along the river bank, but slowed down in the marshy area of tangled branches where, just days ago, she and Master Deim had found Loesie. The horses found no easy path through this area, and they were left further and further behind.

  The sounds of their angry yelling faded until the only thing left was the sound of sloshing water against the hull. The sun was just coming up over the misty landscape, edging the world in gold.

  “We’re going home,” a man said behind her, in an incredulous voice.

  “Yes, we’re going home!” another shouted.

  “Long live the King! Long live the Queen!”

  Roald had been sitting on the hold covers with the young children he had helped. The girl had handed him her lamb, which he held cradled in his lap. Johanna went to pull him up, and he rose, still holding the animal.

  “You’re going to have to behave in a kingly way,” she said to him.

  “No. That’s why I have you.” He put an arm around her waist.

&n
bsp; So they stood amongst their citizens: a painfully shy and awkward king who liked frogs and ducklings, an inexperienced queen and a lamb that symbolised the child they desperately needed but that had still not shown any sign of appearing.

  At least they were going home.

  A Word of Thanks

  THANK YOU very much for reading The Idiot King. The story is not finished here! In the next book, Fire Wizard, the refugees return to Saardam and learn of the real reason for the occupation of Saardam. Find out where to get Fire Wizard.

  As author of this book, I would appreciate it very much if you could return to the place where you purchased this book and leave a review. Reviews are important to me, because they help readers decide if the book is for them.

  Also be sure to put your name on my mailing list, which I use exclusively to notify subscribers of new fiction. All other chat about my writing or world-building and interaction with readers happens on my blog Must Use Bigger Elephants, which you are welcome to follow.

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  About the Author

  * * *

  PATTY JANSEN lives in Sydney, Australia, where she spends most of her time writing Science Fiction and Fantasy. Her story This Peaceful State of War placed first in the second quarter of the Writers of the Future contest and was published in their 27th anthology. She has also sold fiction to genre magazines such as Analog Science Fiction and Fact, Redstone SF and Aurealis.

  Her novels (available at ebook venues) include Shifting Reality (hard SF), The Far Horizon (middle grade SF), Charlotte’s Army (military SF) and Fire & Ice, Dust & Rain and Blood & Tears (Icefire Trilogy) (dark fantasy).

  Patty is on Twitter (@pattyjansen), Facebook, LinkedIn, goodreads, LibraryThing, google+ and blogs at: http://pattyjansen.com/.