The Incorporated Knight

IX – The Princess and the Promontory

A wan yellow sun drifted up a pearly morning sky; seaward, a heavy haze hid the horizon. Middling blue-gray waves impinged upon the Rock, throwing up bursts of spray like bushes laden with silver berries. Standing ashore from the tanbark-gray Rock with the King, the jester, and a clank of guards, Eudoric said:

"My lords, two days ago I had my first sight of the ocean. From tales I have heard, I expected waves like moving hills, hurling their foam as high as treetops."

"We do get storms like that," said King Gwennon, "possibly—"

"Mainly in the winter," Corentin interrupted. "Ye are fortunate in that the weather today is mild as milk. Ah, there goes the princess with her escort!"

On the slope below, two burly men, each clutching a pale, strong-muscled arm, marched a tall woman out upon the Rock. She wore but a single silken rose-pink garment.

"Is she to be chained in her shift?" asked Eudoric of Corentin.

" 'Twas her wish. She gave her gown to her maid, saying she saw no reason to sacrifice a good robe to the monster's gluttony."

The woman was hauled to the crest of the Rock and thence to the farther side, where the bulge of the stone concealed her from Eudoric's view. As the guards of her escort busied themselves out of sight, Eudoric imagined how they fastened chains to the woman's limbs.

A voice broke into his thoughts. "Here's your poker," said Corentin, handing Eudoric a stout boar spear. The weapon had a hand-broad head and a crosspiece below the head, to restrain a beast already impaled upon the spearhead from forcing its way up the shaft to reach its attacker. "May the Old Gods help you. Ye'd best sit atop the Rock and rest, to gather your forces. The beast may not appear for hours."

"And try to keep your feet dry," said the King innocently, "lest ye catch your death of cold."

Laughing scornfully so that his bells tinkled, Corentin declaimed:

Using the spear as a staff, Eudoric picked his way down the slope to the Rock. He wondered how he, who prided himself on prudent caution and rational reasoning, nevertheless so often found himself in one fantastic predicament after another. Behind him, the notables hastened away to the front-row benches reserved for them on either side of the promontory.

On the landward side, the Rock sloped gently up from the surface of the beach, rising some fifteen feet above sea level. On the seaward side it dropped off steeply. As he began the ascent of the Rock, Eudoric could not see the Princess Yolanda, but sounds from the far side of the Rock made him pause. He heard a loud splash, followed by angry shouts. Presently the two soldiers who had brought the princess to the Rock appeared upon the summit, hastened down the slope, and trudged away, arguing furiously. One was dripping wet.

Curious, Eudoric strode up to the stony summit. On either side, shallow water washed back and forth. To left and right stretched the silvery beach, upon which scores of benches had been set; and on these benches sat hundreds of Armorians in colorful holiday finery, while sellers of cakes, sausages, and beverages circulated among the gabbling throng.

As Eudoric reached the summit, a cheer arose and swelled to a roar. Spectators waved hands, scarves, and kerchiefs in encouragement, so that to Eudoric they were but a flickering, amorphous mass.

He idly wondered, if he wounded the monster but failed to kill it, whether it would come ashore to attack the spectators. He visualized the multitude stampeding away in wild panic, screaming and trampling one another. It would, he sourly thought, serve them right; but doubtless the fickle Armorians would blame the disaster on him and slay him for it.

Where the seaward side of the Rock dropped sharply, Eudoric found himself looking down on the captive princess, who sat upon a ledge. Rusty iron chains, with a lot of slack, connected the manacles on her wrists and ankles to staples driven into the stone. To Eudoric's startled gaze, the woman at first appeared nude. Then he realized that her clinging, filmy garment, soaked to transparency by the spray, had become all but invisible. She sat huddled, looking out to sea; as he peered more closely, he saw that she was trembling.

"God den, my lady!" he said.

The woman started. Then she raised her head. She was, he saw, quite the ineffable beauty he had seen in Clothar's miniature; if anything prettier, dark of hair and gray of eye.

"What—who are you?" she quavered.

"Permit me, my lady. I am Eudoric Dambertson of Arduen."

"Where is that? Somewhere in the Empire, to judge by your accent."

"Aye. I've undertaken to fight your monster."

"Oh." She seemed at a loss. At last she said; "May the True Triunity strengthen your arm! Did my brother send you hither?"

"For that and other purposes."

"Why has no one told me that I should have a champion? 'Twould have eased awaiting my doom." She sounded querulous.

"I know not, Princess. But methinks it better to leave such questions till later, whilst we diligently watch for the monster. Its master called it by some Pathenian name: Drugov? Druzik?"

"Druzhok," said Yolanda. "That was long before I came hither. But the Armorians well remember Svor the Stroller and his curiosities."

"I had better climb down to your ledge," said Eudoric. "Wilt hold this?" He reached down the spear. "I fain would avoid a tumble into the deep. Which gives me to think: What befell out here ere I arrived? Did one of the soldiers fall in?"

"I pushed him in. I'd have done the like to the other, too; and gleefully watched the pair drowned by their mail. But the second cuttle skipped back out of reach, my gyves having been locked; and he fished his comrade out."

Eudoric picked his way down the remaining distance, hooking his heels into the niches cut in the rock to make a rudimentary stair. As he landed on both feet on the ledge, one foot slipped seaward; but Eudoric recovered, if he had it to do over, he thought, he would not wear clumsy riding boots but would come either barefoot or in thin slippers. He had thought of donning his armor for the conflict; but the fate of the would-be monster-slayer, Sir Tugen, had dissuaded him.

"We might as well take our ease whilst waiting," he said. As Yolanda rose to hand him back his spear, he realized that the princess was substantially taller— more than a handsbreadth—than he.

Taking the spear, he lowered himself to a sitting position with his feet hanging over the edge. From where he sat, he could see the masses of spectators around the curve of the Rock to right and left. Splash from the waves soon soaked his boots. He considered taking them off but decided that the ledge was too narrow to do so safely.

For a while they sat silently, watching seaward. Eudoric strained his eyes for sight of a dorsal fin or a patch of leathery hide. Several times he saw something; but each time it proved to be merely a trick of light and shadow upon the restless waves.

Then he turned his attention to Yolanda. She was a big woman, not only tall but well-fleshed; her form, so clearly visible through the rosy silk, would arouse carnal thoughts in a statue. She was certainly the most beautiful woman he had ever known in person, even if built on a somewhat larger-than-human scale.

"I wonder if Druzhok be coming today," mused Eudoric. "If it fail to appear, do they set you free?

Do they take you from the Rock and bring you back on the morrow? Or do they leave you here for ay?"

"I know not. I am told it has always appeared on this day of the year."

"Some day it 11 die, in the natural course of events," said Eudoric. "What then will the Armorians do with the woman they've chosen thus to honor?" _{"You are too full of questions!" snapped Yolanda. " 'Twere better to study the waters." After a pause, she added: "Oh, I cry your pardon! I confess I am tetchy; waiting to be devoured doth not improve one's manners."}

"I understand," said Eudoric. "I did but think that such light talk might take your mind off your predicament."

"So indeed it may. Continue, pray."

"Well then, tell me: The Armorians call you a witch, and others hint that you possess uncanny powers. Why can't you use these powers to free yourself and dispose of the monster?"

" 'Tis true that I've made some small study of the wizardly arts. I have, for ensample, a splendid spell for freezing a creature to immobility, as if it were turned to stone. Therewith, I could render Druzhok as stiff and harmless as if it were stuffed and mounted in the Letitian museum. But the spell requires costly apparatus, which I brought not with me from Franconia. When they arrested me, they seized my few bits of magical gear, all but the tube and powder for the Lesser Immobility. Those were on my person, which they failed to search. My rank protected me at least from that indignity."

Eudoric clucked sympathetically. "What is the Lesser Immobility?"

"Another spell, like unto the Greater Immobility, save that it be worked with a simple blowpipe and a pinch of powder. It has but a short-lived effect— say, half an hour."

"How long does the Greater Immobility endure?"

She shrugged. "I have never watched a victim of it long enough to ascertain; but the wizard who sold it to me asserted that, if well and truly performed, 'twould hold the subject fast for a decade or more. Besides, Corentin the jester is a more puissant enchanter than I. When his men-at-arms seized me, he cast a countervailing spell against my minor magics. Another spell, placed upon these chains, prevents my sundering them by my arts. If the Three True Gods ever vouchsafe me a chance to take Corentin's head ..." She smiled grimly.

"What had Master Corentin against you?"

"He feared that I should subvert the affections of King Gwennon to make myself Queen of Armoria, thus to overthrow the jester's mastery of the King. In a civilized land, to treat a sovran with one tenth the insolence wherewith that sneering malapert Corentin uses Gwennon would cost a subject his head. These Armorians are nought but a pack of bloody savages, beneath a film of culture as thin as this Serican silk wherein I shiver. As for Gwennon—as if I'd ever bed down with that senile lump of lard, that puppet in Corentin's hands!"

A formidable dame, thought Eudoric, not to be thwarted or crossed with impunity. He wondered whether he could somehow defer the fateful step of winning the hand of this prickly princess, at least until he knew her better.

"Speaking of matters conjugal," said Eudoric, "know you that the Armorians intend, if I defeat the monster, to wed the twain of us?"

She started visibly. "Why, the whoreson knaves! Dost mean you and me, to each other?"

"Aye."

"The fiend take them! I should have guessed they had some such zany scheme in mind. Wherefore would they foist this union upon us?"

"They have the silly notion that you were less of a danger to them wed than as a maid."

"And what if I tell them to go futter themselves?"

"They'll throw us into prison until we change our minds."

"I'll rot in their dungeons ere I yield!"

"So thought I, also. But let us not reject the plan too hastily, lest we waste away our lives. We could make it a titular marriage; on your request, I would not press my husbandly rights."

"You would find it a daunting task to press them against my will," she said ominously.

"I daresay. Then, back in Franconia, you could take legal measures to regain your single state."

She pondered Eudoric's statement. "Franconia has no divorce—but under circumstances such as these, an annulment could be had."

"Assuming that we should then wish to part," said Eudoric.

"There is that possibility. Suffer me to think."

She sat long in silence, while Eudoric scanned the seascape for a sight of the monster. After a while he asked: "You are single, I take it?"

"Aye; husbandless and loverless." She looked him over narrowly. "Now that I consider the matter, methinks that, failing better, you might do. You seem a man of capacity, not ill-favored, whom I might learn to love. I could fare farther and do worse. But are you of noble blood? A royal princess cannot wed a low-born upstart, be he never so brave and virtuous."

Eudoric sighed. "I am heir to a banneret knight's holding, in Locania. Is that noble enough?"

" 'Twill do; 'twill suffice. Are you, too, single?"

"Aye. Truth to tell, I embarked upon this journey in hopes of wiving."

"Are you complete in all your parts?"

"So far as I know, I am. But if we forgo our marital pleasures until we—"

"Oho, a reluctant lecher! Mean you that you're a priestly celibate, whom I shall have to teach about the bees and the flowers?"

Eudoric laughed. "Good Gods, nay!"

"Well then, have you any mistresses to be paid off and turned out? I'll not suffer my man to divide his affections, whatever some of our courtly debauchees do—"

"Nay, no mistresses. I've been betrothed divers times, but fate has hitherto thwarted mine honorable intentions." Eudoric smiled. "And by the bye, my lovely enchantress, how know I that, upon our first disagreement, you'll not turn me into an earthworm?"

She laughed. "Fear not! To change the shape of a living being calls for spells far beyond my modest capacity. And, since the resulting creature must weigh as much as the being whence it came, you'd make a monstrous worm. No one ever disagrees with me anyway, save my featherpated brother.

"Now, Eudoric, since fate has dealt us this curious throw of the dice, let's make the best of it." She reached out and gave his arm a friendly squeeze. "Your offer to relinquish your rights was generous, and I thank you for it; but in this parlous strait 'twere foolish to forgo any harmless pleasures we might enjoy. I confess that I, too, have been seeking a mate. Being nearly thirty years of age, I fear a lifelong spinsterhood. I hereby swear to make you the happiest of husbands and to work no goetic magics upon your person!"

"If our marriage be one of fact as well as name, would that affect your getting an annulment—assuming you'd wish one?"

She shook her head. "For a commoner it were an obstacle; but I could afford the highest bribes the hierarchy would demand."

Eudoric studied the waves for a while; then asked: "And of our issue, should there be such, what were their standing?"

"You'll never sire a king, Eudoric. Franconian laws are strict in the succession. They'd have to run clean out of Clothar's male kinsmen, unto tenth cousins, ere they'd enthrone any child of mine. Besides, Clothar has legitimate children of's own, not to mention a swarm of little bastards. Your and my issue would receive nought but minor titles, as would you as my consort."

After another pause to scan the waters, Eudoric asked: "Speaking of magic, what is the strongest spell in your arsenal?"

"I have one for evoking marids. I bought it from an old Hiberian kassaf, who was down on his luck and wanted money for drink."

"For evoking what?"

"Marids; a kind of ouph that dwells in that part of the spirit world that is congruent with the Saracenic lands. It is a dangerous enterprise, for marids demand the most careful control after evocation. One must command them in the Saracenic tongue. Would that I had fetched a few marids with me from Letitia!"

"Do you speak Saracenic?" asked Eudoric.

"Enough to rule my marids."

"How would you say, in Saracenic—"

A scream from Yolanda interrupted. "Here it comes!"

A few wave crests away, a length of slick, slate-gray hide reflected the wan sun as it broke the glittering surface. Eudoric scrambled up; but the wet leather heel of one boot skidded off the damp stone of the ledge. Unbalanced, Eudoric frantically reached for something to grasp. He snatched at Yolanda, but she flinched back in panic.

Off he went with a splash, and the water closed over his head. A powerful downward stroke of his arms brought his head out of water. When his vision cleared, he perceived a smaller ledge below the narrow surface on which he had sat.

As, coughing, he pulled his arms and shoulders out of the sea, he saw his spear float away on a receding wave. It stood upright in the water, butt end upward and bobbing gently with the rhythm of the waves. Already the weapon was out of reach, although Eudoric could still have swum for it. But the monster's head arose from the sea almost with arm's length.

The fathom-long cranium tapered to a blunt muzzle. A blowhole atop its head sent out a puff of vapor. Although the flippers were still beneath the surface, the head was supported by a neck as thick as itself; the creature looked quite large enough to swallow Eudoric whole. Black corneas in white eyeballs regarded him dispassionately. Then the monster's gaze shifted back and forth between Eudoric and Yolanda, as if it were undecided which to seize.

If Eudoric let go the little ledge, he would go under again. What with the weight of sword, scabbard, and boots, he could not expect to float.

"Clumsy oaf!" screamed Yolanda.

At another time, Eudoric would have had biting words about such abuse from a woman for whom he was risking his life. Now other matters preempted his attention. The wedge-shaped jaws gaped, revealing scores of ivory-white fangs edging a crimson maw. The animal stank of fish.

"Druzhok!" shouted Eudoric.

The beast jerked back its head and slowly closed its empty jaws, while Eudoric desperately tried to remember what he could of the Pathenian language. "Vniz!" he shouted, hoping that this was the word for "down." "Druzhok! Down! Go back! Go away!"

Druzhok backed off a few feet. It remained attentively poised, as if awaiting the next command.

"Druzhok!" cried Eudoric. "Good monster! Nice monster! Go far away! Go way off thither!" He pointed westward. "Come not back, ever! Stay away from Armoria!"

Although the reptilian face was essentially expressionless, Eudoric thought he saw a brief look of hurt in the creature's eyes before the fang-provided head disappeared. He caught glimpses of slate-gray hide breaking the surface and vanishing, farther away each time. Then Druzhok was gone, save for a distant puff of vapor from its blowhole.