One for the Morning Glory Page 3

  Yet the eye stayed on him longest of all. At first you saw he was a giant, towering over everyone; then that the way he walked and moved was asymmetric. The clothing must hide severe deformities, though his motion gave the impression of great strength and agility. Then what was in the shadow under the hat came into focus, not a face but a thin gray mask of iron, spotted with white, brown, and red streaks.

  At his side he must be wearing a whole belt full of weapons; for one moment the cloak opened, as if gratifying everyone's curiosity, to reveal an escree, a mace, and three pongees, all seemingly larger than most men would ever attempt to wield.

  "There must be thirty pounds of iron on that man," Ce-dric breathed, "and he drags his foot and humps that shoulder oddly, yet I would wager on him in a footrace against any youth in the Kingdom. And that bulge in his cloak, I'd warrant, is made by two festoons and a double-bladed ax besides."

  King Boniface nodded to Cedric. "This is a year and a day after the, er, unfortunate event, is it not?"

  Cedric's breath caught a little. "Why, yes, Majesty, it is. And you are right. It's the sort of time that turns up in a fairy tale. I think perhaps we are about to see something remarkable."

  Amatus commented loudly, pointing at the visitors, "Nice—scary—nice—scary."

  Boniface, too late, covered his son's mouth and whispered for him to hush. There was a long silence, then the alchemist and the girl behind him burst into merry laughter, and the corner of the witch's mouth twitched a little, and Cedric fancied that perhaps there was a brief shaking of laughter under the cloak and hat of the strange man behind them . . . though if there was, Cedric would realize many years later, and write in his Chronicle, the best account we have of those days, that it was the only time he had seen the man laugh.

  At this, the Court felt free to laugh too, a jolly sharing with the strangers, and even the guards seemed to be fighting grins—successfully, Cedric noted with pleasure—as they brought the four travelers to face the throne. As was proper, the alchemist, who carried the green applicant's banner, laid it at the King's feet.

  Boniface smiled at them. "Clearly at least some of you are here to apply."

  The alchemist bowed low. "Indeed, there are four of us, and we seek the four positions advertised. Suitable references are available, or demonstrations of our abilities may also be given."

  "And your names?" Cedric inquired. His heart was sinking. I surely would not want to fight that strange-looking fellow, and I do believe he would make a fine Captain of the Guard. I suppose I shall have to go hack to filling out forms and enforcing protocol all the time, and the armories will probably all be rust again before next year is out.

  "I am called Golias, probably because it is my name," the alchemist said. "As you might guess, I am an alchemist of great ability, though thus far of little experience. I seek the post of Royal Alchemist, and may I add—"

  The witch coughed.

  Golias hastened on to explain, "My friend here is Mortis, who seeks the post of Royal Witch. She was, herself, once a queen, though that was long ago, and so knows the ways of a Court well and thoroughly. Stern and commanding, not often speaking, but with a mighty power that is as remarkable as it is—"

  "Get on with it," the witch said. Her voice made a sharp, sibilant hiss that stopped the breath of everyone in the room.

  Golias seemed to jump, but nodded and said, "My male comrade here, whose appearance might arouse comment, is under a curse that will not permit him to speak his own name or disclose the nature of his curse. Where he has been, he has often been called the Twisted Man. A fighter, bodyguard, swordsman—"

  "A manslayer," the Twisted Man said. The voice came out of his mask like a breath of damp air from a cave, and it felt like the sound of a window breaking at midnight. "A fair hand at monsters and such as well. But no general. No man will gladly follow me, nor take orders from me. You would need a separate General of All the Armies, but still, I seek the post of Captain of the Guard."

  King Boniface nodded soberly. He knew how much the job of General of All the Armies had come to mean to Cedric. He had thought that he might well wish to divide the functions of Captain of the Guard and General of All the Armies, thus giving Cedric the job he loved on a permanent basis and at the same time getting himself a proper bodyguard, for Cedric sometimes failed to post truly first-rate troopers to the job, preferring to keep them on duty at the barracks. Thus the Twisted Man was proposing what King Boniface himself had already been thinking, and impressing the King very much.

  "And," Boniface said, preventing Golias from any longer introductions, "I presume the young lady would like to seek employment as the Prince's Personal Maid, and no doubt has splendid qualifications." He tried for just enough irony to amuse the Court without hurting the girl's feelings; as usual, since he was King, no one revealed enough feeling one way or another for him to judge what effect he was having. Really, it was irritating.

  "Majesty," the girl said softly, and her voice was so melodic that everyone leaned forward just a little to hear it better, "my name is Psyche. I have no qualifications except that I know how to do things, I work hard, and I usually like children, though to tell you the truth it depends a great deal on the child, for you know they are not all alike."

  This was the first time Boniface had heard any candidate admit that not all children were equally suited to her, and instantly he liked her for that.

  Amatus nearly clinched it then by bouncing up and down and saying, "Nice lady. Is she going to stay?" and then Psyche did clinch it by grinning.

  After all, a year and a day is an auspicious time in a fairy tale, the King said to himself. Still, he knew the rules, and sure as he was that these were the right ones, he said, "I am well-disposed to all of you. Would you be so good as to undertake a project each to demonstrate your skills?"

  Golias nodded. "Indeed, Majesty, we had thought we might propose such projects to you. Mortis and I should like to undertake to manufacture the Wine of the Gods."

  A gasp ran through the Court.

  Boniface frowned. "I tell you now, I would not like you to fail through mischance, and if you are little experienced, so many things can go wrong that through no fault of your own—"

  A gasp ran through the Court again.

  "The gasping is getting quite distracting," Boniface said, crossly. "Nobody asked anybody not to mention the Wine of the Gods, to my knowledge. If you have all been trying not to, I wish you would give up in that effort. I broke my arm falling out of a chestnut tree as a child, and no one went to any special trouble to avoid mentioning chestnuts in my presence. Amatus can bear to hear it mentioned; indeed, I doubt that he remembers he ever had a left side."

  "Right hand," Amatus said, holding it up. "No left hand."

  No one quite knew how to react to this; when the King looked at Psyche, she had a little upward turn in her mouth, not a smile unless he wanted it to be. He smiled himself, and then it was. "No matter how well we know them, there's always more to know," Psyche said.

  The King beamed at her.

  "Are you sure," Cedric said, clearing his throat, "that you wish to engage in anything as difficult as manufacturing the Wine of the Gods? I think that we all want you to succeed."

  Mortis answered. "We are not just suitable, but perfect. We will show you that; we would not want you at any time in the future to have the least doubt about us. I myself am powerful enough to retain this appearance despite being many generations of men old; I will not fail as the witch. And though Golias is young and untried, I know he will do it without failure or error, for it is a saying in the Kingdom, is it not, that a witch knows the worth of an alchemist?"

  "As for me," the Twisted Man said, "just point out the biggest and most dreaded monster in the Kingdom, and I promise you I shall deliver its head or heads at dawn tomorrow, having slain it at night when such things are at their most powerful. Send along any soldier you wish as a witness."

  "There is a quite unpleasant hydra
in the Bitter River Swamp at the moment," Cedric said, "and I think that is as big as we've got. Trooper Roderick's family are from out that way and I'm sure he can guide you to it. You are of course familiar with all the procedures?"

  The Twisted Man nodded. "Scorching the necks. Yes. For the basilisk a polished mirror, for the dragon a stout shield with copper on the out face and oak on the in, for the vampire a stake of rosewood, and for the hydra, the blazing torch. These are the sorts of things they teach in the first week in the Academy of Heroes—though I am no hero, and know only because I have listened at fires when they talked of their lore."

  Boniface was delighted again, for if the Twisted Man was not a hero but knew some of their ways, it was likely that the fairy tale, if it were a fairy tale they were in, would reveal someone already introduced as a hero—perhaps Amatus.

  "Done," the King said. "Bring me whatever heads you take off the hydra, and Trooper Roderick will confirm its death. Now, with that accomplished—"

  "Majesty," Psyche said.

  "What—oh, dear. You're right. We need to have you do something, though I'm sure the boy likes you . . ."

  "Tell me a story," Amatus demanded, "and fix me bombazine pudding, and play a game with me."

  "Please," Psyche said, firmly.

  "Please," Amatus said.

  Boniface beamed at her; she already seemed to be good at this. "Well, the task is suited to the duty—yes, by all means."

  And so, with the tasks parceled out, there was a great blaring of trumpets and a recessional, which delighted Amatus. Golias and Mortis climbed the long stairs to the Royal Alchemical Laboratory, the Twisted Man and Roderick saddled up in the courtyard in front of the clerihew, and Psyche, leading a cheerfully babbling Amatus by the hand, had gone off to the boy's room to get him ready for dinner, some quiet evening amusements, and bed.

  Without the boy to distract him, Boniface had a pleasant meal with Cedric and his other advisors, did more real royal business than he had in a year and a day, and went to bed cheerfully. Not my doing, of course, he thought, just before he drifted off, but things are turning out splendidly, with the single exception of Amatus's condition, and after all that is no worse.

  3

  Tasks Are Completed, Appointments Are Made, Warnings Are Heard, and Several Years Go By

  When the King opened his eyes, the room was bright with sun, and Psyche had brought him a wonderful breakfast of eggs exactly soft enough, bread fresh from the oven, waffles with fluffy white sugar, and chilled foamy chocolate milk. She looked clean and fresh and consented to have a couple of slices of bread with strawberry jam while the King ate. Mostly, she told him about clever and interesting things Amatus had done and said the night before.

  Boniface discovered that they both agreed that Amatus was one of the most remarkable and intelligent three-year-olds the world had ever seen, and that the loss of one half of the Prince, while deplorable, had in no way affected his essential extraordinary qualities. Indeed, Psyche had independently discovered many of those qualities in Amatus that Boniface had noticed himself.

  The King liked talking to her. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he was aware that he had to hire all four of this group of applicants, or none at all, so even more than before he hoped that the other three would succeed.

  As he was finishing his breakfast, and thinking of changing from his pajamas, Mortis and Golias came in. The alchemist carried a silver serving plate covered with a mirrored glass dome; he bowed low, extending the plate to King Boniface. Mortis whisked the dome off, and there was a small bottle unmistakably containing the Wine of the Gods.

  The King lifted it reverently; there was a full glass. "It went without undue difficulty," Golias said.

  King Boniface smiled. "I shall pour five thimble cups, and as soon as your comrade returns we will all drink in celebration of your successfully completing your tasks and of my hiring you."

  There was a loud single knock. The King shouted "Come in" and the Twisted Man entered, bearing a dozen well-washed hydra heads in a huge net bag. Each might have fit on a large dog, except that they were blue-green and shaped a bit like a lizard's head, with eyes on short stalks and a single curved fang protruding from the center of each set of jaws.

  "Splendid," the King said. "Let us drink to your employment—and to my having solved some administrative problems rather neatly, for, even admitting it to have been luck, it is a good thing in a King to be lucky."

  And they all drank together and it was settled.

  It might be best next to tell quickly of what happened in all the years as Amatus grew big enough to be ready to go adventuring, so as to reach the adventures per se as quickly as possible, except that two other things of importance happened on the day the four Companions were hired. When Cedric was quite old, he ordered that those two other things be copied into his Chronicle, for looking back he thought that they probably mattered a great deal, and we will not second-guess his judgment.

  The first was that the King made the Twisted Man his Captain of the Guard, and Cedric General of All the Armies.

  The other matter, though, was more complex. Cedric and the King were going over the Royal Survey—a part of Cedric's job as Prime Minister—looking at the map together and trying to decide whether a new settlement in the northeast should be named Bonifaceburg, Bonifaceville, or just Boniface, when there was a faint, tapping knock at the door. If it was ever possible to knock apologetically, this was that knock.

  King Boniface detected that apologetic quality, and raised an eyebrow to his trusted advisor before saying "Come in." Cedric, hearing it too, sat extra straight and tall, for he had a feeling that he might need his dignity.

  Three people one would not expect to see together came timidly through the door.

  The first, Wyrna, was very old. In Boniface's father's time, she had supposedly murdered her husband, but he had been the notorious Great North Woods Ogre—that is to say, an obnoxious and ill-mannered provincial lord whose castle was near the Great North Woods and who had turned highwayman and cannibal, rather than a particularly great ogre. Since her supposed crime had been more in the nature of a public service, it had seemed inappropriate to hang her, so instead the old King had sentenced her to sweep out the castle, in exchange for room and board and a bit of pocket money, on her solemn promise not to murder anyone not equally deserving. After living with the ogre, everything else seemed so nice that she had become merry and pleasant, sort of honorary grandmother to many of the younger servants in the castle.

  But instead of her usual warm smile, now she stood before them, wringing her hands, deeply distressed.

  Beside her was Gwyn, who mopped and swept the nursery. Gwyn was a fairly but not extraordinarily pretty young woman who looked as if she should be a nurse, nanny, or governess. In fact, she had taken the job of cleaning the nursery as the first thing that came along, and after a year or so of mopping up, not only after Amatus, but after any number of children of visiting lords and kings, she had come to dislike children intensely, and was secretly hoping, just once, to find a soldier who did not want to settle down and have twenty of them. She often had a slghtly sour expression and rarely permitted herself to smile since she had been told it made her look motherly. The effect was dignified and adult beyond her years.

  Now she stood, nervous, shy, and biting her lower lip in a rabbity way, looking down at the floor, as if many years had dropped off her.

  The last of them was Trooper Roderick, and this was oddest of all. The soldier who had gone with the Twisted Man to witness the slaying of the hydra was one of Cedric's most trusted men, and now he looked uncharacteristically concerned, even anxious. He was a big, solid fellow, much brighter than he looked, for his phlegmatic temperament and his tendency to stare into space with his mouth hanging open gave many people the impression he was stupid. Eventually he gave up the army and became a distinguished playwright, specializing in long and bloody historical cycles, and it turned out that while staring int
o space he had in fact been composing whole scenes and acts.

  At this time Cedric did not know his trooper was to be an important literary figure, but did know Roderick was much smarter than he seemed, and that he merely seemed uninvolved because it took a great deal to upset him. So to see Roderick alert, head up, glancing around nervously, was a bad sign indeed.

  It took the King and his Prime Minister much less time to assess the situation than it takes to read about it, for of course they already knew these people and so understood at once that their behavior was uncharacteristic. "Well," Cedric said mildly, "this looks like something unusual and important."

  "Come on in, sit down, and tell us what the matter is," Boniface said, in his kindest voice. "Anything that bothers three trusted servants so much is surely of concern to me."

  They seemed no more comfortable seated on stools. With a glance around, Gwyn began it. "Majesty—er, you do know that today there was a Servants' Picnic? Well, that's how we all came to be talking to each other. Kind of between the sack race and the egg carry, you know. And there were things—well, each of us was bothered by something about these four new people you've hired, but none of us so much that we wanted to come to you with it . . . but when you put them all together, our three stories, I mean, well, you sort of . . ."

  "You start to see something?" Cedric suggested. "Some pattern you don't like?"

  Wyrna shook her head, her old dark gray hair swinging emphatically. "No, milord, we don't see any pattern at all. But what we do see is that there seems to be a place in all of it where there ought to be a pattern. If you see what I mean."

  "Well," Boniface said mildly, "possibly the best thing would be if you could tell us what you saw or heard, Gwyn."

  Gwyn nodded once, firmly, her jaw setting like a soldier's. It was at that moment that Roderick noticed her for the first time, and moreover she noticed him noticing her, and this gave her courage to proceed.