The Unbeheaded King

by L. Sprague DeCamp

  By sheer strength, Jorian forced the other blade up and back, until he could bring his own blade down on Corineus's mangled scalp again. He sawed two more gashes in the flesh. Corineus staggered back and disengaged, frantically wiping his face with his free hand.

  It was no use. Blinded by the flow of blood, Corineus stood helplessly, pawing at his face. Jorian whacked his sword hand with the flat of his blade. Corineus's sword clattered to the floor. Jorian put a toe beneath it, tossed it into the air, and caught it.

  A knock sounded, and Sovar's voice said: "Is all well within, gentlemen?"

  "All's well," replied Jorian. "We did but practice." He turned to the others. "See if you can bandage this poor fellow. Sit down, Corineus."

  "Where? I cannot see."

  Jorian pushed Corineus into a chair. The youth said: "You have made a mock of me! My honor is in ruins! I must seek an honorable death to atone for my disgrace."

  "Oh, for the gods' sake!" snorted Jorian. "Play the man for once and not the silly child!"

  "What would you of me?"

  'Tell me more of this affair. How did you find us here?"

  "I saw Thevatas leaving the palace with Estrildis, whom I knew despite that cloak. The eye of true love sees through all disguises. I followed until the clerk entered the inn. I waited without, trying to decide whether to alert the Regency Council or to cope with the matter myself. After Thevatas emerged and hastened furtively away, I decided it were a more honorable and knightly course to essay the rescue myself. So here I am."

  "Lucky for us, young man," said Jorian. "I cannot fight the whole garrison single-handed. Now then, you claim the title of 'Sir.' Why is that?"

  Corineus nursed the hand that Jorian had struck, on which an angry bruise was rising. "As you surely know, it is a title accorded sons of a hereditary baron, since we have no true orders of knighthood any longer. My sire, Lord Holdar, is titular baron of Maesbol."

  "I know of that family. What do you for a living?"

  "I am undersecretary in the foreign department."

  "Maesbol is close to the borders of Ir, is it not?"

  "Aye."

  "Does your father dwell thereabouts?"

  "Aye, we still have a small castle and enough land to support it, albeit we are much fallen from our former estate. No longer can we compel hinds to swink in our fields as their feudal duty, but must hire these oafs for real money, like any untitled squire."

  "Tsk, tsk," said Jorian. "Having worked as a hind, I sympathize with the oafs. But do you love Estrildis enough to give up your post in the government?"

  "Aye! What true knight would not—"

  Jorian held up a hand. "Has your father influence with the syndics of It?"

  Corineus looked puzzled. "Aye, now that you mention it Those money-grubbers buy our surplus crops. Why?"

  "Why not take Estrildis to Ir and, with some hidden influence from your father, get your marital status sorted out? When things quiet down and you and she are legally joined—at least under Irian law—you can slip back to your father's estate and work for him. If he makes difficulties, the sight of an infant grandchild should soften him."

  "But what of you, King Jorian?"

  Jorian grinned. "No titles, pray. As you said, I am a tradesman at heart. I shall manage, albeit differently from your way."

  Corineus shook his head, muttering: "I do not understand this modern world. In feudal times, every man knew his place and what he must do to defend his honor. In our bout just now, you could have slain me six times over; I knew it almost as soon as we engaged. Yet you refrained, as though I were nought but a bad-tempered child."

  'To slay you once would have been sufficient; and had I been full of your ancient notions of honor, I had done just that. But let us be practical. Have you means of reaching Ir? Estrildis is in no condition to ride horseback."

  Corineus pondered. "My friend Vercassus has a gig, which he has lent me in times past. Belike I can borrow it. I keep my horse in Vercassus's stable, and my groom Gwithion sleeps in the servants' quarters there. I can take both with me to Maesbol, and my man can return the gig to Vercassus. If Gwithion have not gone out on a round of the mughouses, we should be ready to fly within the hour."

  "How will you get out of the city at night?"

  "The captain of the watch at the North Gate owes me a gambling debt. Now, if you will excuse me whilst I return to the palace for my belongings—"

  "Better not take time for that. Belongings can be replaced, but your bead cannot. And pray take Estrildis to your friend's house forthwith, for our safety here."

  Corineus seemed inclined to argue, but Jorian said firmly: "Nay, out you go, the twain of you. As the little clerk said, keep your mouths shut and we'll keep ours likewise. Goodbye, Estrildis."

  She began to weep again. "I know not what to say—it is awkward— you are a true gentleman despite what he said—"

  "Na, na, forget all that and get tha hence," said Jorian, reverting to the rustic Kortolian dialect of his boyhood. "Partings, like executions, were best done speedily; but a shall remember ma bonny little farm lassie."

  Wrapped in the hooded cloak, Estrildis went out sniffling. Corineus shepherded her, treating her as if she were a fragile glass vase.

  "Whew!" Jorian drew his sleeve across his forehead. "Let us hope they get safely away ere the palace come looking for them. Think you not that we need a draft of Sovar's best? All but Father Karadur, whose principles forbid."

  "I'll fetch the wine," said Kerin.

  "Methinks even I could bend my principles a trifle," said Karadur.

  "This is a change from how you formerly spoke, Jorian, of skewering any villain who so much as made eyes at your lass."

  "That's your doing," said Jorian. "I remembered your lecture, when we were flying over the Lograms. So I've tried in accordance therewith to take the long view of what were best for all concerned. Corineus would call that unknightly, but happily I have no knightly code to live up to. The lad may be handsome and brave and gallant, but he is also a damned fool."

  Margalit said: "That's the main reason I insisted on coming on this journey."

  "How mean you?" said Jorian.

  "Methought that, when you learned of her infidelity, you might slay her in your rage; and I thought it my duty to protect her. Thank Zevatas I did not have to throw myself betwixt her and your steel!"

  For the next hour they sat in the large bedchamber, drinking from the bottle that Kerin had brought and talking plans. Then, bottle empty, Kerin spoke of returning to his quarters and Margalit, of retiring to her chamber. They were bidding good night when a noise from below caught their attention. There were footfalls of many men, a rumble of speech, and a clank of weapons.

  Kerin looked out, then softly closed the door. "It's a squad of the Royals, looking for her," he said. "They will search every digit of this place, their officer says. What now?"

  "Let me think," said Jorian. "If we try to run for it—nay; and if they look us over closely, they may see that Margalit and I are disguised… I know one trick that might throw them off. Kerin and Karadur, get under the bed! Margalit, take off your clothes and get into the bed!"

  "What!" she cried. "Art mad? Why—"

  "Just do it! I'll explain anon." As he spoke, Jorian peeled off his own garments. "Hasten, curse it! Fear not for your virtue; this is but a charade to cozen them. Yare!"

  "Every last stitch?" quavered Margalit, unwinding the voluminous Mulvanian garment.

  "Every stitch!" Standing naked, Jorian waited until Margalit was under the blanket, while his brother and the Mulvanian were out of sight beneath the bed. Then he blew out the lamp and slid under the blanket. Below, Kerin grunted as Jorian's weight pressed the bed down upon him. "Quiet!" whispered Jorian, sliding an arm around Margalit, who stiffened at his touch. "Let me do the talking."

  The tramping and voices outside went on and on. At last the door burst open. Turning his head, Jorian made out the silhouette of two Royal Guardsmen in
the doorway. Half sitting up, still holding Margalit closely, he roared:

  "Heryx smite you with emerods! Cannot a man make love to his own lawful wife in privacy? Have you no decency? Get out!"

  "I beg your pardon, sir," said a voice. The door closed, and the trampings died away. When all sounds of the visitations ended, Jorian got out of bed, opened the door a crack to peek out, and relit the lamp.

  "They've gone," he said, pulling on his trousers.

  Margalit held the Mulvanian garment against her front. "May I go now?"

  "Aye, my dear. If any wight besmirch your fair name as a result of this play-acting, Kerin and the Doctor can swear I took no liberties. They'd have known."

  "But you thought of those liberties. I could tell." She giggled. "After traveling about with you, Jorian, I misdoubt I have any fair name left to preserve."

  Chapter Ten

  THE HAUNTED CASTLE

  MARGALIT, HANDLING FILOMAN'S REINS, SAID: "JORIAN, FOR one whose heart has just been broken by his love's faithlessness, you seem unwontedly cheerful."

  Jorian, riding Cadwil beside the cart, had been singing an air from The Good Ship Petticoat, by Galliben and Silfero:

  "Oh, I am a pirate captain bold;

  I fill my vessel with jewels and gold

  And slaughter my captives, young and old,

  To rule the raging sea, oh!"

  He gave Margalit a searching look, saying: "You are right, now that I bethink me. It was a shock, of course. But later, when I pondered the matter, along with my grief, disappointment, and resentment, I realized there was an element of relief."

  "Meaning you loved her not so desperately as you have been alleging?"

  "Well, three years is a long separation for one so young and lusty as Estrildis. True. I loved her—I still do in a way—and had she remained true, I would have tried to be a loving, faithful husband. When she did not, I found the break less painful than I might have expected. Mean you to return to your post at the Academy?"

  "Aye; what else? There are few positions as a queen's lady-in-waiting open."

  They had been traveling southeasterly, wasting no time but not moving so hurriedly as to arouse suspicion. Once a squadron of horse caught up with them and searched them. But Jorian's Mulvanian accent, together with the lack of any trace of Estrildis, convinced the troopers that these were merely harmless foreigners. They galloped on.

  Jorian said: "We shall soon come to the road to Castle Lore Let's spend the night there. Baron Lore is not a bad sort as ghosts go, and we shall have a roof over our heads."

  When neither of his companions objected, Jorian led the cart up the long, overgrown slope to the ruined castle. Margalit called: "Jorian! Had we not better station the cart and the beasts behind the castle, instead of in the courtyard? They were less visible."

  "That's my wise woman! How have I managed without you all these years?"

  "Welcome, my friends," said Baron Lore's ghost, as darkness fell and Margalit set out their supper in the main hall. "Let me think. The large man, albeit clad as a Mulvanian, saith he be Nikko of Kortoli. The lady is Margalit of Totens; and—I forget thy name, reverend sir. If thou hast noted a failure of memory with advancing age, thou mayst imagine how much worse it be for me."

  "He is Doctor Karadur," said Jorian.

  "Now, this doth excite mine interest," said the ghost. "Ye see, yesternight a squadron of cavalry made free with my demesne, and I overheard their talk. Several troopers seemed not to know what their mission portended, having been mere boys when these events began. So their officer related the particulars.

  "It transpired that they sought one Estrildis, Queen of Xylar, who hath vanished. The burthen was that she had been abducted by her husband, the fugitive King Jorian, who disappeared three years since. He fled, they said, to escape beheading at the ceremony that taketh place every lustrum—or would, had not Jorian's desertion thrown the calendar into confusion."

  "We heard something of that," said Jorian.

  "Ah, but that was not all. According to this officer, this Jorian also passeth under the name of Nikko of Kortoli, to which name thou didst admit when I confronted thee with proof thou wert no true Mulvanian.

  Now, were that not a coincidence singular? And furthermore, this officer spake of one Margalit of Totens, once lady-in-waiting to Queen Estrildis, who vanished last winter—some say carried off by a demon, but the officer believed not that tale—and hath not been seen since. One such coincidence of names were within the realm of the possible; but two! That passeth all bounds of rational belief."

  Jorian sighed. "Very well, I confess—again. Means this that you will set the next group of searchers on our trail?"

  "Nay; why should I? But what in sooth hath befallen the Queen? I see her not with thee."

  "She has gone off in another direction, with one who, she hopes, will become her new husband."

  The ghost shook its transparent head. "I regret that she came not with thee. Then ye could set me free from this curse."

  "You mean, if Estrildis would scrub the floor?"

  "Yea, verily. Be ye still wedded, thou and she?"

  "Legally, I believe so. She hopes to arrange a divorce in another state, since Xylar won't give her one."

  The ghost frowned, chin in hand. "A new thought doth begin to blossom in my brainpan, or whatever phantoms have in lieu thereof. In life I was the local magistrate, and none hath ever canceled my appointment. I can grant thee a divorce. Her refusal to accompany thee maketh her guilty of desertion."

  "Is a legal act by a ghost valid?"

  "I misdoubt the point hath ever come before thy high courts. But let us assume it so be. Then thou couldst wed the Lady Margalit here. Since thou art King, thy consort is Queen. So if she scrub my floor—not all of it, I do assure thee—I were instanter enlarged from this durance tedious."

  Jorian and Margalit stared at each other. "Well!" said Jorian at last. "That's an interesting suggestion. We should need time to consider it."

  Margalit said nothing. The baron said: "All the time ye wish, gentles. I would not coerce you into hasty acture. But think: once I am suffered to depart for my next life, ye need no more worry about my betraying you to the Xylarians! A favor meriteth a return favor."

  "Let's sleep on it," said Jorian.

  Next morning, Jorian said: "Margalit, let's take a walk and see how our beasts fare."

  When they had found the horse and the mule thriving, Jorian looked at Margalit. "Well?"

  "Well, what?" she replied.

  "You know. The baron's proposal that you and I wed."

  "Mean you that you do not altogether trust this ghost? That, if we yield not to his urgings, his resolution not to betray us might weaken? He hinted as much."

  "That was a consideration; but it is not what I had in mind."

  "What had you in mind?"

  Jorian kicked a stone from the path. "I had not meant to speak thus but three days after parting from Estrildis. I have been drawn to you ever since the demon fetched you to Abacarus's sanctuary. You have all I should wish for in a life's companion, including the good sense that I, alas, sometimes lack. When I see you dance in your Mulvanian guise, 'tis all I can do not to leap up and bear you off.

  "Ere the break with Estrildis, I told myself: Jorian, you are a faithful husband who'll do aught to recover his beloved wife. What you feel for Margalit is mere lust. But now I cannot deny that I am in love with you. I had meant, after a decent interval, to press my suit; but the baron has forced my hand.

  'True, this journey has made a beggar of me, since Thevatas got away with the crown. But I have always been able to earn a living in one way or another."

  "How legal would such a marriage be?" she asked. "I have heard of taking a ghost's deposition in a lawsuit, but never of one's acting as magistrate. Even if the marriage were legal, a royal divorce might not be, since the Regency claims authority in such matters."

  "Well," said Jorian, "if I be King, then by Xylarian law
I am entitled to five wives. So I cannot be faulted for bigamy whatever Estrildis's status. At least, that is, in Xylar, whither I hope never to return. How think you?"

  "Jorian, promise me one thing."

  "Aye?"

  "That as soon as we cross into Othomae—assuming they do not catch us—you will file similar actions for divorce and marriage under Othomaean law, so that no awkward questions shall arise."

  "Mean you that your answer be 'yea'?"

  "Aye, I do so mean. Well?"

  "I promise. And back in Kortoli I'll do it again!"

  Told of the betrothal, Karadur said: "My felicitations on you twain. But it does seem a pity that all your arduous efforts, over the last three years, to regain your spouse should come to nought."

  "Rubbish, old man!" snapped Jorian. "My efforts have given me an infinitude of stones to tell. And without these attempts, I should never have known Margalit. So from adversity has come treasure."

  "As to that, we shall judge ten years hence."

  "No doubt; but I can't wait until we are all dead ere making up my mind. Let's to it."

  Under Baron Lore's directions, Jorian found some yellowing papers in the desk in the baron's cabinet. With the ghost invisibly dictating, Jorian wrote legal phrases on them. He signed the first, and both he and Margalit signed the second. The problem was getting the baron to sign, since the ghost was not material enough to grasp Jorian's quill pen. At last, by concentrating his psychic force, the ghost made a small scorch mark on each of the sheets where his signature would have appeared. Jorian, Margalit, and Karadur signed their names around the blackened spots as witnesses to Baron Lore's mark.

  "Hail!" said the disembodied voice. "Now stand ye before me—"

  "Where is that?" asked Jorian.

  "Oh, pox! Anywhere will do. Stand side by side and clasp hands. Dost thou, Jorian…"

  The ceremony was soon over. The ghost said: "Now, sir and madam, I pray you to carry out your side of the bargain. Goodwife Margalit, thou shalt find a bucket in the kitchen, and the well still holdeth water. For a rag, thou must needs employ something from thine own possessions, for the looters have swept the castle clean of aught of that sort."