The Unbeheaded King

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by L. Sprague DeCamp


  Chapter Nine

  THE PROXENARY CLERK

  ADDRESS ROYALTY IN MULVANIAN," SAID KARADUR to Margalit, "one uses the politest form. Sentences whereof the ruler is subject or object are put in the third person singular subjunctive. For another member of the royal family, or a priest in his official capacity, one uses instead the third person singular indicative with the honorific suffix -ye—"

  "Doctor," said Jorian, "we need not waste Margalit's time on these distinctions. Imprimus, we shan't perform before royalty; secundus, nobody in Xylar would know the difference anyway. Teach her the form used between equals and let it go at that."

  "But, my son, if she is to impersonate a Mulvanian, she must not speak my beautiful mother tongue brokenly!"

  "Jorian is right," said Margalit. "I find these lessons hard enough without more complications than are absolutely needed."

  Karadur sighed. "Very well. Lady Margalit, suffer me to explain the significance of nasal vowels…"

  "You had better compress your lessons," said Jorian. 'Tomorrow we shall raise Xylar City. Meseems she already knows the sentences she will most need, such as 'I do not understand Novarian' and 'No thank you; my body is not for sale.'"

  "Where are we stopping?" asked Margalit.

  "Kerin and I have arranged to meet at the Fox and Rabbit."

  The taverner, Sovar, looked suspiciously at the three exotic foreigners, but a deposit of a golden Xylarian lion quieted his fears. He gave them two rooms, a single for Margalit and a larger one for the two men. As they settled in, Jorian said to Karadur: "Doctor, pray ask our host if Synelius the Apothecary is still in business."

  "Why me?"

  "Because I am fain to keep out of sight. I patronized Synelius when I was king. If I ask after him and go to his shop, someone may put two and two together despite the costume and the bogus accent."

  "What would you with this Synelius?"

  "I wish some salve for this cut. My arm is still sore, and I want you to make the purchase."

  "Ah, my old bones!" sighed Karadur, but he went. Later, when Jorian was applying the salve, Sovar knocked, saying: "A gentleman below asks after a party of Mulvanians. Be you they?"

  "I will see," said Jorian. Below, he found his brother Kerin. Resisting an impulse to throw himself into a bear hug with his brother, Jorian clasped his hands in the Mulvanian manner and bowed low, murmuring: "Sutru of Mulvan, at your service. What can this unworthy one do for noble sir?" In a whisper he added: "Keep your voice down!"

  Kerin, taking in his brother's costume and manner, compressed his lips in an effort not to burst into laughter. He said: "Ah, I understand. How about supper?"

  "Nay; a Mulvanian cannot eat with a foreigner without pollution."

  "I thought you told me," murmured Kerin, "you attended a party given by the Mulvanian emperor?"

  "I did; but that was a dance, not a banquet. All they served was fruit juice, and I suppose that counts not." Raising his voice and resuming his accent, Jorian continued: "But do you chew by noble self, and then we will forgather in my humble quarters."

  So Kerin ate by himself, while the pretended Mulvanians, eating their own supper, ostentatiously ignored him. Later, when only a few remained in the common room and those absorbed in their own affairs, Jorian caught Kerin's eye, winked, and gave a slight jerk of his head. After Jorian had disappeared into his room, Kerin rose and followed him up the stairs. In the room, they hugged and pounded each other's backs, grinning.

  "Well?" said Jorian. "Can Thevatas deliver her?"

  "So he claims. Have you it?"

  "Aye; 'tis in yon bag atop my soiled garments. You can feel it through the cloth. When could he fetch her?"

  Kerin shrugged. "Belike tomorrow even?"

  "Make it earlier, at least an hour ere sunset. I am not lief to try to talk my way out of the city after the gates are closed for the night When the palace finds she is gone, they'll swarm out like hornets."

  As the sun approached the horizon, an increasingly nervous Jorian repeatedly stepped out of the Fox and Rabbit to look at the sky, or to walk down the street to glance at the water clock in the window of Vortiper the Jeweller.

  At last, a worried-looking Kerin hastened up, murmuring: "Thevatas said he would be delayed."

  "Why?"

  "I'll tell you. Let us go inside. I'll wait in the common room, drinking beer; you shall return to your chamber. We would not make a public scene of this reunion."

  "That's sense," said Jorian. "When did he say he'd be late?"

  "I was to meet him in the Square of Psaan and guide him hither, since I had not told him where you were staying. When he appeared not, I cast about the nearby streets, thinking there might have been a misunderstanding. I met him coming out of the apothecary's shop. When I asked about this, he said she had a headache and besought him to fetch her one of Synelius's simples. Hence they would be late."

  Heart pounding, Jorian returned to his room, where he found Karadur and Margalit looking questions. "There's been a delay," he said shortly.

  "But, my son," said Karadur, "darkness falls without, and the gates will close. How then shall we issue forth?"

  "I wish I knew, too. Belike I can persuade or bribe the officer of the gate watch to open for us."

  "Could we climb down the Doctor's magical rope from the city wall, as they do in romances?" asked Margalit.

  "We could, but that would mean leaving the cart and the animals. Afoot, we should soon be run to earth."

  "Were i£ not wiser to remain the night?" said Karadur. "In the morn, those who pass through the gates are not questioned."

  "It would be, could we count upon Estrildis's disappearance to remain undiscovered. But someone is sure to sound the alarum. Then every guard, soldier, spy, and flunkey in Xylar will be out searching. They'll poke into every dog kennel and henhouse."

  Karadur muttered, "We had better pray that this proxenary clerk and your Queen are stopped from leaving the palace. An they come hither, we are undone."

  Jorian asked: "Could you send us to the afterworld, as you did me three years since?"

  "Nay. That spell was one of the mightiest whereof I have command. It required extraordinary preparations, which took months. Ah well, they say beheading is one of the least painful forms of execution."

  "Perhaps; but I have never heard a beheadee's side of the story."

  "Anyway," said Karadur, "if they come seeking us, I will see what my illusion spells can accomplish."

  "I can return to the palace, saying you snatched me thence, and I have only now escaped your captivity and made my way back to Xylar," Margalit suggested.

  "That would not do," said Jorian. "Judge Grallon knows that you and I were on friendly terms in Othomae, not captor and captive. Mark you, if I must lose my head, it does not follow that you should lose yours. I can give the twain of you the names of other inns, not of the highest repute, where you will be taken in without questions. If men from the government question you, say you had no idea of who I really was."

  "What about you?" said Margalit. "Why hide you not likewise?"

  "I might; but let us first see whether Thevatas come hither, with or without Estrildis. Then we can better decide."

  They went down to supper. Although Sovar's food was excellent, Jorian left half his repast uneaten. Kerin had returned to the Square of Psaan to await Thevatas. When one of Sovar's patrons became drunk and offensive, Jorian was tempted to beat the man up and pitch him out. Such was the tension within him that he felt he would burst if he could not discharge it in some violent action. With effort he controlled himself, and Sovar ejected the unruly patron.

  Afterward they went back to the large room and sat gloomily, composing plan after plan to save their skins. They tried out various schemes, according to whether Thevatas came, with or without Estrildis, or did not come, or others came to arrest Jorian.

  At last came a light tap on the door and Kerin's low voice: "Here they are!"

  Jorian leaped up, o
verturning his chair, and threw open the door. Three stood in the door frame: the tall, handsome, youthful Kerin; a small, paunchy man of middle age; and a short woman in a hooded cloak, which fell to her ankles and hid her features.

  "Come in!" whispered Jorian. He closed the door behind them and turned.

  "Have you it?" said the small man.

  "Aye. Is this she?" Jorian pulled back the hood. Estrildis's blond hair and round-featured face came into view. She seemed to stare unseeingly.

  "Where is it?" demanded Thevatas. "I must begone, to establish my alibi."

  Jorian dumped the contents of the bag out on the bed. He extracted the crown from the soiled clothing and handed it to Thevatas, who turned it over, hefted it, and put it back in its bag.

  "Good!" muttered the clerk, turning to go.

  "One moment!" said Jorian. "What mean you to do? Melt it down for bullion?"

  "Nay; I have grander plans." The little man giggled. "Next time you visit Xylar, you shall find me a man of authority, perchance a member of the Regency Council. Meanwhile, keep your mouths shut, and I'll do likewise. Farewell!"

  The clerk scuttled out and was gone. Jorian turned to Estrildis. "Darling!"

  She turned her head slowly toward him but seemed unable to focus her eyes.

  "What ails you, beloved?" Jorian asked.

  She did not reply. Karadur said: "Your woman seems under some spell or drug. Smell her breath!"

  Jorian sniffed. "There is something strange here… How can we bring her round?"

  Margalit grasped the girl by the shoulders and gave her a slight shake. "My lady! Your Majesty! Estrildis! Know you me not?"

  "I have had some experience," said Karadur. "Suffer me to try."

  He went to the washstand and dipped a corner of the towel in the water. Then he faced Estrildis and began slapping her cheeks gently with the wet towel, repeating her name.

  Jorian untied the drawstring at Estrildis's throat and took off the enveloping cloak. His first impression was that his favorite wife had gained weight in the three years since they had parted. Then he looked more closely.

  "Margalit!" he said. 'Tell me honestly. Is she pregnant?"

  Margalit stared at the floor. "Aye, she is."

  "Did you know of this when the demon bore you off?"

  "I had a strong suspicion. She had missed a period."

  "When is the child due?"

  "Methinks in a month or two."

  "I cannot be the father. Who is?"

  "I had liefer she told you," said Margalit.

  Jorian turned back to Estrildis, who seemed to be coming round. Staring wide-eyed, she looked from one to the other, murmuring: "Where am I?" Then she shrieked: "Margalit! Do I dream?"

  "Nay, dear one, it is I," replied Margalit.

  "But what has made you so brown, like a nomad of Fedirun? Hast been lying all day in the sun?"

  Jorian said: "Estrildis, dear!"

  She stared at him in puzzlement. "Are you truly Jorian? And all brown, too?"

  Jorian said: "You are at the Fox and Rabbit, in Xylar City. We came to fetch you away. But I see that things have changed."

  For a long moment she stared wordlessly. Then she glanced down at her belly. "Oh, Jorian, I am so sorry! I could not help it."

  "Who is he?"

  "A young man of noble family, attached to the Regency."

  "His name?"

  "I—I won't tell. You would slay him, and I I-I-love him." She began to weep.

  Jorian picked up the chair he had upset and sat down in it, burying his face in his hands. Then he said: "Sit down, the rest of you. We must think what to do."

  Karadur said: "It is a shame we let that clerk make off with the crown ere we had looked into this matter."

  "Spilt milk," said Jorian. "He'll be back at the palace by now, not to be dug out save by a siege. But he'd better not meet me on a dark night. Estrildis, did you wish to wed this other wight?"

  "Aye; but the Regency would never dissolve my marriage to you whilst they had hope of luring you back to cut off your head."

  Margalit asked: "Jorian, if you knew the father, would you kill him?"

  Jorian heaved a deep sigh. "That was the first thought that entered my mind. But then…"

  "And the second?"

  "Then reason took hold. If I slew him, what should I have but a wife mourning her slain lover and rearing an infant not mine? I thought this would be the most loving reunion of history, but as things be… Why did you not tell me ere this?"

  Margalit spread her hands. "I could not foresee the outcome."

  "How mean you?"

  "Well, you might have died, or Estrildis might have died, or young Sir—the youth in question might have died. Then what good would it have done to tell you, save to make you unhappier than you need be? Besides, my first loyalty belonged to her. I did drop a hint or two."

  "So you did. Did they companion often, those twain?"

  "During the past year, he came to visit daily. After a while she asked me to leave them in privacy during these visits."

  Jorian turned to Estrildis. "My dear, what has this young man that so turned your head?"

  "Oh, he is handsome and brave and gallant, like a knight from feudal times. And he comes of noble family."

  "You mean, like a knight as described in romances. We still have knights in Othomae. Some are not bad fellows; but others are mere bullies and lechers, who'll cut a commoner down over a fancied slight. And I am homely and hardworking and practical, and my forebears, like yours, were farmers and tradesmen. But tell me why, when Thevatas brought you hither, you acted drugged?"

  "Because I had been. That rascal drugged me."

  "How?"

  "This afternoon he came, saying he could smuggle me out of the palace so I could rejoin my husband. But I refused. Much as I esteem you, Jorian, my heart belongs to—to the other."

  "What then?"

  "Thevatas went away. After supper he came back, saying he had obtained a pot of rare tea from the Kuromon Empire. He carried the pot wrapped in a towel to keep it warm and invited me to join him. I thought it tasted strange, and the next thing I knew, I was in such a daze that I knew not what I did. I remember Thevatas's wrapping me in that peasantly cloak and guiding me out, telling the guards I was a light leman of his."

  Kerin said: "That explains what Thevatas was doing at the apothecary's."

  Jorian sat silently as the others watched. Their expressions mingled curiosity, expectancy, and a trace of fear. At last he said:

  "I see no way out of this tangle but to cut our losses and run. Kerin can take Estrildis back to the palace gate and leave her there. She can make up her own taradiddle of having walked out by a ruse, to wander the city unescor—"

  A sharp knock interrupted. Jorian picked up his scabbarded sword from where it leaned in a corner, drew the blade, and faced the door, muttering:

  "If that's the Regency's bully-rooks, they shan't take me alive. Stand back, all! Come in, whoever you are! It is not bolted."

  A slim, strikingly handsome man, several years younger than Jorian, stood in the doorway. At the sight of Jorian's blade, he said: "Ha!" and reached for his own hilt.

  "Corineus!" cried Estrildis.

  Jorian backed a step. "Another mystery explained. Well, come on in and close the door! Stand not there like a ninny!"

  The young man drew with a wheep. He entered, saying: "I perceive you wish to slay me to wipe the stain from your honor. So, have at you!" He took the guard position.

  "You mistake me," said Jorian. "I know about you and my wife, but I do not wish to cause unnecessary sorrow or to leave the child fatherless. Neither do I wish the task of rearing it. So take her and it; they are yours."

  Sir Corineus frowned in puzzlement. "Did I hear you aright? Me-thought Jorian was brave, not an arrant coward."

  "My bravery has nought to do with it. If we fight, either I shall slay you, or you will kill me. I am not eager to be slain just yet; and as for slaying y
ou, what would that profit me? What could I get for your carcass? Your hide were of little value as leather, and we don't eat our fallen foes as in Paalua."

  "You have no knightly sense of honor! You sound like a mere tradesman, a cold, scheming, money-grubber!"

  Jorian shrugged. "Suit yourself. If you attack me, I'll give a good account of myself; but I shan't be sorry if you refrain."

  "It is plain that you are no gentleman, or you would have demanded instant satisfaction when I implied you were a coward."

  "My dear boy, you are living in the past! Those ideas have been obsolete in Xylar for a century."

  'To you, belike, but not to me. How much must I insult you ere you fight me?"

  "You try my patience, young man, but I'll essay to be reasonable. Wherefore are you so avid to fight?"

  "Because, so long as you live, I cannot wed Estrildis. So one of us must die. Have at you again!" And Corineus rushed forward, aiming a slash at Jorian.

  In an instant they were furiously hacking and thrusting. Sparks flew from the flickering blades. The others crowded against the far wall to keep out of harm's way.

  Jorian found that Corineus was a fair but not a first-class fencer. He beat off the young man's frenzied attacks until Corineus, panting and sweating, began to flag. Then Jorian made a quick feint and a slash at the top of Corineus's head. The blade bit into the youth's scalp, but the blow was not hard enough to disable him. Corineus backed off to wipe from his forehead the trickle of blood that ran down from the scalp wound.

  Jorian was not yet breathing hard. Presently Corineus came on again, more slowly and carefully. He got his point into the sleeve of Jorian's shirt, opening a rip.

  "Another sewing job, Margalit," said Jorian. Again he feinted, doubled, and brought his blade down on Corineus's pate. Corineus backed off, wiping a fresh flow of blood from his scalp. His face was becoming smeared with blood.

  They fenced on indecisively until both simultaneously attempted an advance-thrust and found themselves in a corps-d corps, with blades crossing near the hilts. For an instant they struggled frozen in position, each trying to push the other off balance.

 

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