The Incorporated Knight

XII – The Crypt of a King

When Ysness faded into Armorian mists behind them, Eudoric said: "Yolanda, whence gat you that money you showed me? Did the Armorians give you back that which you brought from Franconia?"

Yolanda rode astride with her skirt hiked up to reveal peasant trews. She laughed. "Nay! I took it myself, whilst you were bidding farewell to the King and his jester."

"How did you accomplish that?"

"I told you, I still have the tube and powder for the Lesser Immobility. I went to the treasure room, uttered the cantrip, blew the powder into the guard's face, and helped myself to King Gwennon's treasury."

"Mean you the guard still stand statuelike—unless he have recovered from your spell?"

"So I ween. He may be regaining the use of his members about now."

"Good gods, woman, and you took time to argue over which clothes and hair ornaments to take, knowing that this fellow might revive any moment and sound the alarm? You're out of what little mind you have!"

"Eudoric, I will not be spoken to thus! I am a royal princess—"

"Forthred!" shouted Eudoric. "Gallop!"

The three fled down the narrow road, splashing through mud puddles until all were well spattered.

A few hours later they were walking the horses to breathe them as they climbed a slope in the rolling countryside. At the crest, Eudoric halted to twist in his saddle and stare back. Surveying the distance, where the grassy green waves of the meadowlands merged with the misty gray of the sky, he said:

"Curse this foggy air! Forthred, your sight's as keen as any. See you aught on the road behind?"

Forthred squinted. "My lord, methinks I see some black specks, where the road doth meet the sky ... The sun doth twinkle betimes, as on a bit of steel."

"I see them now," growled Eudoric. " 'Tis time we galloped again."

"Our beasts need more rest," said Forthred in plaintive tones. "Ye'll founder them!"

"If those knaves catch us, we may rest for all eternity. Come on!"

At the next breather, Forthred looked back and said: "Sir, methinks our pursuers be closer upon us."

"You're right," said Eudoric. He studied the terrain about them. "If I mistake not, yonder hill bears King Balan's tomb, which we passed on our way hither. The Armorians fear to enter there; but I had rather chance their rumored bogles than King Gwennon's soldiery. Come on!"

They dismounted and led their animals to the top of the hill, where they studied the entrance to the tomb. This portal was framed by three huge, mossy stone slabs, two uprights topped by a lintel across them. Earth, carpeted with lush green grass, covered the burial vault, hiding all of its megalithic structure except the entrance.

"What of the beasts?" asked Forthred.

"Bring them in with us. The doorway is high enough, if we pull their heads down."

When Eudoric tried to lead his palfrey into the tomb, however, the animal snorted, reared, and nearly tore the reins out of his powerful grasp. Tugging from the front and stinging its hindquarters with a quirt failed to induce the animal to enter. It became more and more excited, rolling its eyes in terror.

"Careful, sir," said Forthred. "She'll break loose and run away."

Experiment showed that all the other animals were equally recalcitrant. At last Eudoric said: "It's no use here. We must hide them in that grove behind the hill. Let's first unload food, drink, and candles; for we know not how long our sojourn here will be."

A half-hour later saw the four horses and the mule securely tethered well inside the grove, and the three travelers huddled at the entrance to the tomb. Eudoric grunted:

"Let's pray that the beasts don't set up a racket when our pursuers go by. Come on in! Nay, no candles yet; the light might give us away. Feel your way, and watch your steps for traps or holes."

For several fathoms, the entrance passage ran straight back. Then it opened out into a circular chamber some three or four fathoms across, albeit it was hard to judge dimensions in the dark. Eudoric said: "Make yourselves comfortable whilst I watch the road."

"Comfort!" jeered Yolanda. "If sitting on a cold stone floor be your idea of comfort, I'd liefer not endure your notions of discomfort—"

"Take a horse and return to Ysness, if that be your preference," grated Eudoric.

After a short silence, she said: "I'm sorry, Eudoric dear! I apologize. One of the House of Merovic should be able to endure discomfort without complaint. " After a pause, she added: "I require privacy. How ..."

"Canst hold out for a while? It were rash to appear outside just yet."

For a she. t while Eudoric stood near the entrance, but far enough into the gloom that no one on the road below could discern him in the shadow. At length a squadron of King Gwennon's troopers came into view. They shambled past at a walk; the horses' heads hung, foam flecking their muzzles.

A soldier in the lead threw up a hand to halt the detachment. He pointed up the hillside towards the tomb and spoke. Eudoric could not hear the words, but he inferred that an argument had broken out. Arms waved; fists shook.

Several troopers dismounted. While others held their horses, two toiled up the slope, the wan sun gleaming softly from their helms and mailshirts. Eudoric retreated to the inner chamber, drawing his sword. He whispered: "Flatten yourselves against the wall around the corner and keep as quiet as the dead. The searchers have no lights, and methinks they'll not enter willingly."

The three stood motionless, scarcely breathing. Faint sounds announced the arrival of the soldiers: the swish of feet through the grass, the clink and creak of equipment, and sough of heavy breathing. A murmur of talk wafted in:

"Go on in!" "Nay, go thou first!" "Art afeared?" "Aye, verily! An the captain be so brave, let him do's own tomb search!" "Let me bespeak them, if they be within. The grass hath been trampled, as by our fugitives." "That could have been the work of a wandering cow or horse." "Hush; let me speak."

A voice was raised: "Hola! Be the runagates, the Imperial knight and the Franconian princess, within?

Come on out! Ye shall not be harmed! Ye shall be honored! The King hath sent us with sacks of gold for you! Ye shall be rich!"

After a silence, the trooper repeated his hail. Then came the dwindling sounds of retreat. When distant hooves again resounded and died away, Eudoric peeked out, to see the detachment vanishing eastward.

Eudoric reported this event to his fellow travelers, now sitting in the rotunda at the end of the passage. Rising, Yolanda said: "Oh, good! Then we can at once resume our journey."

"I fear not," said Eudoric. "We should likely run headlong into them, returning from their sleeveless chase. You, my dear, may now go out, whilst Forthred and I essay to light a candle and break out victuals."

When Yolanda returned to the tomb, Eudoric had a candle burning on the floor in the center of the rotunda. Now they could see that the circular mega-lithic wall was interrupted by a series of deep niches or recesses, extending clear around the circle. Some contained dimly-seen objects; others appeared to be empty.

"If I may mention it," said a subdued Yolanda, "I hunger."

"Here!" said Eudoric, handing her a slab of roast fowl and carving a slice from a loaf of dense rye bread. "I'm sorry about the lack of chairs, tables, and silverware. The scullions must all be asleep in the pantry."

She laughed lightly. "Know you, 'tis the first time I've dined thus since I was a little girl? I find it rather fun—albeit I trust we shan't have to eat in this manner for ay."

"I hope not," said Eudoric, "but we shall see. Now, about that money you filched from Gwennon's treasure room. How much gat you?"

She brought out the massive wallet and poured a stream of gold pieces on the floor. "Share alike!" she said.

Eudoric snatched at a couple of coins that started to wheel away. Having separated the crowns, the half-crowns, and the double crowns, he began counting. At last he said: "By the Divine Pair, you have well over two hundred crowns!"

"I could have taken more, but I feared the weight would encumber our flight. Let's divide our loot."

"Give me an even hundred," said Eudoric. "That's what they promised me, and I take no more than my just desert."

She sniffed. "You are a tradesman at heart! No person of noble blood would bother his head with computing income and outgo to the last farthing."

"So?" said Eudoric, grinning. "Then I'll demonstrate my patrician generosity. Here, Forthred! You've been a good lad."

Eudoric scooped a fistful of coins from the pile and handed them to Forthred, who had been staring hungrily but silently at the collection. As Forthred began to stammer thanks, Yolanda said:

"Ho! Your liberality does you credit; but be sure you take the gift from your hundred crowns and not from my share. I'll keep the rest; the rogues owe me that for damages—theft of my possessions and insults to my person."

Eudoric burst out laughing. "Now who is counting to the last farthing? Forthred has faithfully served the twain of us, although his only reward has been the fortnightly stipend I alone pay him. So you can afford a bit of noble liberality yourself."

"Oh, murrain!" said Yolanda. "You should have been a lawyer. Take your hundred!"

As he counted out the coins, Eudoric asked: "What is Franconian law anent a husband's power over his wife's property?"

"Were I a common wench, considerable. As a royal princess, howsomever, I keep control of mine. One tenth of all the moneys I receive from my estates doth go to charity—to Letitia's poorhouse, its lazaret, its madhouse, and other worthy institutions. I'll command my paymaster to prick you down for a stipend of pocket money."

"Thanks," grunted Eudoric, addressing himself to his food. When he had finished, he rose and stepped to the circular wall to examine their surroundings. He peered at the bundle in one niche.

"A long-dead body, I ween," he said. "There seem to be a dozen thereof. They must all have been here for years, or we should perceive their odor. I suppose one is King Balan and the others his royal kinsmen, or perchance soldiers and attendants sacrificed to serve him in the next world, as is done when the Grand Cham of the Pantorozians dies. But I cannot tell which be the king—"

"O ignorant one!" boomed a deep voice. "Can no one read the ancient runes in these degenerate days?"

The travelers started violently, staring about. There was no other movement in the chamber.

"I beg your pardon!" said Eudoric. "I am literate in my native Locanian and a couple of other tongues, but I have not had the privilege of studying your script. Enlighten me, pray!"

"A foreigner!" said the voice. "We suppose one must make allowances. Then know, O mortal, that we be the spirit of King Balan, condemned by a curse to spend a millennium in this tomb. Our resting place is the largest niche at the rear of the chamber, facing forth. If thou look closely, thou shalt see our name cut in the stone above the aperture. As for sacrificing attendants, thinkest thou we be barbarians?"

Eudoric, remembering the rack of human heads in King Gwennon's palace, was tempted to answer "Aye." But he forbore, not wishing to antagonize this ghost before he knew more of its powers. He said: "I am honored to meet Your Ghostliness, and I trust you take no offense at our using your tomb as a hostelry. We were pursued."

"On the contrary, good mortal, we are pleased. We have had no company for centuries, since the silly story got about that within these tombs lurked man-eating monsters. A few centuries of solitude wax tedious. What bringeth thee hither?"

"A difference of opinion with King Gwennon's minister, the jester-magician Corentin," said Eudoric.

"Meanst thou this King doth employ his fool as an officer of state?"

"Aye, sir; I mean just that."

"A strange conceit. What manner of man is this minister in motley?"

"From what I have seen, I hold him an able officer, if a low-minded princox and a belike a trifle mad."

"What of the King?"

"A doddering dotard, far gone in drink and gluttony and, methinks, not long for this world."

"Ha!" said the voice. "We are not surprised. Armoria hath had no monarch of truly royal quality since our own reign. Now relate the history of the nations since our demise, above four hundred years agone."

Eudoric told what he knew of the history of the Empire and its neighboring nations. Yolanda amplified his account of the Franconian past.

"So!" said the ghost. "Thou art sib to Franconia's reigning monarch, eh? How fare your royal brother and his kingdom?"

"Well enough," said Yolanda. "We have recovered from the revolt of the Jacks and have had no great wars for a generation."

"Be this Clothar a man of kinglier qualities than most of the royal ninnies whereof ye twain have told us? We wish the plain, unprettified truth, not the usual flattering panegyric wherewith kings are wont to stupefy their subjects. Speak, Madam!"

Yolanda hesitated, sighed, and then said: "I have tried to bring up my brother and to infuse him with a sense of royal responsibility, but, wellaway! to little avail. He is neither a monster of cruelty like Gundevec, nor a sot like Evatrix, nor a halfwit like Merovic the Fourth. He is amiable and not unintelligent; but he lives not up to his mind's potential. Poring over treasury statements doth bore him; so off he goes to revel in some light-minded game or sport, leaving the drudgery of's office to Minister Brulard. Hence the insolent rabble call my brother 'Clothar the Frivolous'—not, of course, to his face."

"A disease whereto monarchs oft are subject," said the voice. "Now tell me of yourselves."

"Let Eudoric speak," said Yolanda. "He has traveled the most and has had the most adventures."

Eudoric launched into the tale of his journey to Panthenia in search of two square yards of dragon hide, and of the adventures that befell him there. When the first candle burned down to a stub, Forthred lit a second.

"Four-wheeled wagons, with seats for wayfarers and canopies to keep off the rain, running hither and yon and bearing any who can pay?" said the ghost in marveling tones. "An ingenious notion; but 'twould never do in Armoria, because of the straitness of the roads. Go on, Sir Eudoric."

Eudoric suppressed a yawn. "Night has fallen, Your ghostly Majesty—"

"And ye are fatigued. Well and well, ye are welcome to pass the night in this our small domain," said the voice, "if ye do promise to tell more tales upon the morrow."

"Gladly," said Eudoric. "If you will excuse us whilst we fetch our blankets from the horses—"

"Ah, nay!" said the voice. "Thinkest thou that we will suffer you to depart our tomb, leaving poor King Balan with no company except a brace of" spiders? We do assure thee, spiders make dull company. Ye shall remain here till my craving for companionship be sated."

"How long would that be?" asked Eudoric. "Mayhap a year or two."

"I beg to differ with Your Ghostliness," said Eudoric, rising, "but we have our own business to attend. So, thanking you for your hospitality—"

"Ha! Nay, do but essay to depart, and thou shalt see!"

Yolanda and Forthred had also risen, and now Forthred cried out in astonishment. Turning towards the entranceway, Eudoric saw that the passage had vanished. They were in a completely circular chamber without a visible exit.

" 'Tis but an illusion," said Yolanda. "Feel along the walls until you come upon the opening."

"So?" said the voice, adding a ghostly chuckle. The encircling wall, with its mortuary recesses, began to rotate. Faster and faster it went, until the recesses blurred into a pattern of black bars encircling the entire chamber between wider bars of buff-gray stone.

"Still an illusion," said Yolanda. "Go on, touch it, one of you!"

Forthred put out a cautious finger to the speeding stony surface. "Autch!" he cried, snatching back his hand. " 'Tis real to the touch at any rate."

Eudoric picked up a leg bone of the half-eaten fowl and tried the wall with it in several places. Each time, the bone met resistance and made a loud scraping sound.

"The entrance passage should be here," mused Eudoric. "The bone should penetrate this illusory wall with ease; but it does not."

"Well, my hero," said Yolanda nastily, "what now?

Sit here telling tales until we starve? Will our crumbling bones be found some day by another foolhardy snooper?"

"I'm thinking," said Eudoric.

"What with?" she responded.

Mustering his self-control, Eudoric ignored the gibe. "Hast no magical counterspell to neutralize our captor's?"

"Nay. My magical paraphernalia lies packed in the smaller chest, and that is still lashed to your mule."

"Have you no familiar spirit, such as the jester Corentin commands?"

"Nay. I had one, which on this plane took the form of a badger. But upon my arrest, Corentin pronounced a spell that manumitted the creature. It vanished, and I've been unable to summon it ever since."

"Master," said Forthred, "why not tell our ghost about—"

A quick glare and a shake of the head by Eudoric silenced the apprentice. After a long hiatus, Eudoric spoke: "Very well, Your Majesty, I'll tell of my adventure in Pathenia—"

"Meseems thou hast already spoke thereof," grumbled the voice.

"Oh, did I forsooth? Then of a surety I shall recall more details on the second narration. When my old teacher, the retired wizard Baldonius, needed two yards of dragon hide for his alchemcal experiments ..."

Eudoric awoke, stiff and sore, in total darkness. The second candle had guttered out. He felt around and located the bodies of his companions. Both moved and muttered at his touch but did not awaken. He found the pack containing their food and drink; but lighting a candle with flint, steel, and tinder in utter blackness baffled him. He raised his voice:

"Your Majesty!"

"Aye, Sir Eudoric?"

"Could you, pray, permit us a little light?"

"If thou regale us with more tales of thy life."

A faint gray glow, as of an overcast dawn, suffused the chamber, as if early morning light were filtered through an illusory wall of rock, or a pane of heavily clouded glass. Yolanda and Forthred stirred. Eudoric got the third candle going while his squire set out more food. Forthred muttered:

"Sir, I fear me this beer won't last the day. What shall we then do for drink?"

"Perhaps King Balan would suffer you to fetch water whilst holding the princess and me hostage," began Eudoric.

"Never!" boomed the ghostly voice. "An we opened the way for thy servant, ye twain might dash for freedom ere we could reestablish the spell. Thou motest bethink thyself of something better."

"But, Your Majesty! If you keep us here, we shall die."

"Then your ghosts shall keep ours company."

"I am no theologian, and those gentry disagree amongst themselves as to what befalls our spirits after death. But I am sure we shan't be immured here like your royal self."

"Some day," said the voice, "we will tell thee of the curious curse that caused us to be clapped up here. Meanwhile, how shall we make certain that, if we permit the departure of the one, the others will not likewise show a fair pair of heels, leaving old Balan to his inarticulate spiders? Surely so clever a wight as thou art can devise a solution."

After a long silence, Eudoric said: "Your Majesty!"

"Aye?"

"How were it if one of us securely tied the wrists and ankles of the others? Then he who tied the knots could go out and return without danger of the bound ones' flight. After all, we must go forth betimes or pollute your tomb."

"We will give thy proposal a trial. What wilt thou use for cord?"

"Strips cut from the hem of my wife's gown."

"Indeed?" said Yolanda. "What makes you think, husband—"

"Enough!" roared Eudoric. "Your dress is nought but a mass of mud at best."

"Then you shall buy me another as good, once we are back in civilization."

"Eh?" said the ghost. "What is this about regaining civilization? If yon female imply that Armoria be not civilized, we will hold her imprisoned here forever and ay—"

"Please, Your Majesty!" said Eudoric hastily. "In the tongue of Franconia, 'civilized' means only one who speaks Franconian, regardless of his learning and manners. My wife meant no slight to Your Majesty's fertile realm."

Yolanda seemed about to speak again, but a murderous glare from Eudoric stopped her. The ghost said:

"Humph! That is as may be. Think not to bind one another with bastard knots, which fall apart at a tug! We know somewhat of knots, for in our youth we commanded a ship of our sire's navy. Oh, and one thing more: We heard the lady mention wizardry gear in her chest. Think not to fetch it into our demesne, to cancel our spells!"

"What would you do if we did?" flared Yolanda.

The ghost chuckled. "Thinkest thou we'll shoot off every shaft in our quiver in practice, leaving none for the battle? Do but try it, and we warrant on the word of a king that thou shalt not enjoy the results."

"What could he do?" whispered Eudoric.

Yolanda shrugged. "I know not. Wouldst take a chance that 'tis but empty bluster? He may slay us, but I fear not death."

Eudoric shook his head. "When there's no way to reckon the odds, I hedge my wagers with caution."

"Tradesman!" sneered Yolanda under her breath.

At last the bindings were tied to the ghost's satisfaction. The wall stopped whirling, and the entrance reappeared. The three prisoners were let out in turn. Returning from one such expedition, Forthred said:

"Master, we should unload the poor beasts. Leaving them tethered and laden will afflict them with sores. But I cannot perform that task alone."

"Later," said Eudoric. "And now, Your Majesty, I shall tell of my adventures in Pathenia ..."

When Eudoric had plodded through the tale for the fourth time, Yolanda muttered: "How the spook feels I know not, but I am bored to the point of screaming."

Eudoric smiled and started the story over again. When he had finished, the ghost said: "We thank thee; but is there no other tale that thou canst tell? This one groweth weary with repetition.'

"Alas, nay, sire," said Eudoric. "Aside from this one foray, I have led a sheltered, uneventful life." (Yolanda and Forthred hid their smiles; Eudoric was pleased to note that the ghost's abilities did not include the detection of lies.) "Have I mentioned the curious custom of the Pathenians, of making their homes in the shells of the gigantic snails that infest that land?"

"Aye, yea, forsooth and eftsoons! Thou hast told us of those snailhouses, not once but thrice! Get thee and thy companions hence, ere we die a second death from tedium!"