Roc And A Hard Place (8 page)

“Did you see a man and a woman pass by here shortly ago?” Mentia asked.

“Yes.  They had a quarrel with a timber wolf, but managed to get away.” She gestured toward a nearby tree that looked a bit bedraggled.  “It's normally very shy, and will raise a human cub if it finds one orphaned, but with the madness it sometimes gets violent.  So when the barbarian made a barbaric remark—”

“I understand,” Mentia said.  “I see your tree is looking better—and so are you.”

“Yes, thanks to Hiatus,” she agreed.  “He's off gathering croakusses at the moment.”

“Crocuses?” Billy Jack asked.

“Well, he likes to eat frog's legs,” Desiree said disapprovingly.  “The croaks do cuss when he takes them.”

“We must move on,” Mentia said, anxious about losing Threnody.

“Do you think the madness will pass soon?”

“This is close to the border now,” Mentia said.  “It's still slowly contracting.  Maybe in another year.”

“What a relief!”

They went on, and this time managed to reach the White glade without too much further adventure.  Mentia saw Threnody just leaving it, going deeper into the madness.  But she couldn't pursue Threnody right at the moment.

Clusters of colored mushrooms sprouted around the yard.

Beside each cluster was a small garden of fancy iris flowers.

Mentia nodded.  She knew that the mushrooms had sprouted from jars of odd Mundane paper money Richard had buried around the yard, and that the irises grew wherever the woman Janet Hines went.  If the two ever separated, so would the mushrooms and irises.

She knocked on the door of the neat cottage.  A man answered.  “Hello, Richard.  Remember me?  I'm D. Mentia, the temporarily sane demoness.  I have brought another Richard fresh from Mundania who I think could use your help.”

A woman appeared behind Richard.  “Oh, yes, of course we'll help him,” she said.  “We understand so well.”

Mentia turned to Billy Jack.  “These folk will help you all you need,” she said.  “I have to move on now, but you can trust them.  They'll get you settled.”

“But I'm not staying here!” Billy Jack protested.  “I need to find my way home.  My wife, my daughter—”

Richard White stepped out and took his arm.  “Come inside,” he said.  “This is my wife Janet.  I'm afraid we have unsettling news for you.”

Mentia, freed of the temporary obligation her better half's conscience had taken on, moved rapidly after Threnody.  She knew what had happened to Billy Jack, but hadn't wanted to tell him.  He would not be returning to Mundania.  Richard and Janet had been through it already, so would be able to guide him past the madness to his new life.

She caught up to Threnody and Jordan, who had paused in a glade that seemed clear of mad effects.  Obviously they were not eager to plunge into more madness, especially since they hadn't succeeded in losing Mentia by coming here.

She approached.  “I know the madness better than you do,” she said.  “I'm Mentia, Metria's worser half.  I'm normally a little crazy, but I'm sane here.  I suggest to you that you would be best advised to cease this futile flight and take the summons token.”

“No!” Threnody cried.

“I think you are unduly hung up on what Metria did four hundred and thirty-eight years ago.  You would be better off to forget it, instead of holding an impossible grudge.”

“No!”

“Did it ever occur to you that she has a side too?”

“No.”

Mentia considered.  “Let me offer you a deal.  Let's explore the two sides of it, to see which makes more sense.

Then I will guide you out of the region of madness and leave you alone.”

Threnody was about to say “no” again, but Jordan cautioned her.  When it came to wild action, the barbarian had pretty good sense.  So she considered.  “Guide us out first.”

“No.  We need the madness for this.  But I will give you my word.”

“Your word was never any good!”

“On the contrary,” Mentia said evenly.  “Metria has always told the truth, and so have I.  It is one of our foibles.”

“That's not true!”

Jordan nudged her again.  Barbarians had solid instincts about such things, and though they could be totally foolish about women, they could generally tell whether other creatures were trustworthy.  Since the woman Jordan was foolish about was Threnody, he was reasonably objective about Mentia.

“Very well,” Threnody said through her teeth.  “Two sides.  Then you guide us out and leave us alone.”

'But her mind is closed!' Metria protested.  'She's just using this to get out of accepting the token.’

'Of course,' Mentia replied sanely.  'But she may change her mind.’

'She'll never change her mind!  She hates me.’

'This is the Region of Madness, where odd truths come out.  I have had experience.  Play it through, and perhaps you both will be surprised.’ Metria, amazed by the assurance and sanity of her crazy worser self, which was not at all true to form, subsided.  Mentia had access to all her memories and experience, so was competent to do whatever it was she had in mind.

“First we shall play it through your way,” Mentia said to Threnody.  “We shall need Jordan's participation.”

Jordan jumped.  “Mine?”

“You knew King Gromden, didn't you?”

“Yes.  Just before he died.  He was a good old boy.”

“You will play his part.”

“I will?  I don't know how.”

“The madness will guide you.  Just go along with it.”

Jordan shrugged, intrigued.  “Okay.  It'll be fun to be a King.”

Mentia turned to Threnody.  “You will play the Queen's part.  You do remember her?”

“Yes,” Threnody agreed tightly.

“And I will play the part of the demoness.”

“You should be very good at that,” Threnody said, with such an edge that Jordan flinched as if he had been cut, though the barb had not been directed at him.

Mentia ignored the thrust.  “Bear in mind that we must all reenact the truth as we perceive it.  That is, first as you perceive it, second as I perceive it.  We will each be true to the scenario we are playing.”

Threnody looked sharply at her.  “You really believe that something will come of this!”

“Yes.  Shall we proceed?”

Threnody shrugged.

“Then I will set the scene,” Mentia said.  “It is the year of Xanth six fifty-seven, in the countryside near Castle Roogna.  Gromden has been King for thirty four years.  He is married, but his wife is cold.  It was a marriage made for political reasons.  He is a good man—”

“A very good man,” Threnody said.

“But fallible, as mortal men are.  He is not yet aware of it, but there is something missing from his life.  That is joy.”

As she spoke, Jordan postured, emulating the King, and the madness closed in and gave him the aspect of the King, middling-old, pudgy, yet possessed of authority.

“One day as Gromden was out reviewing the kingdom, learning how well things were doing by touching stones and posts and other incidental items and using his talent to immediately Fathom Everything about them, he came across a wretched straggler on the road.”

Now Metria stepped into her part, as the scene of medieval Xanth formed around them.  She became the wretched straggler, cloaked and hooded and hunched.

The King paused in the center of the road.  He was a stunningly rich figure, in his quality clothing, compared to the creature before him.  “May I help you, good woman?” he inquired, for he was never arrogant.

The figure looked wearily at him and recognized his status.

“0, your majesty, don't bother with me,” she said, kneeling and bowing her head.  “I am only a mere outcast from my village, in sore need of help and protection, not fit to bother the likes of you.”

“Come, come, now, my dear,” he said graciously.  “I'll be the judge of that.  What is your problem?”

“0 King, my father sought to marry me to the village lout.  Rather than suffer that indignity, for I am smart and there are those who call me fair, I fled my otherwise excellent home.  But no other family would take me in or give me succor, so I had to depart the village also.  It was the same in neighboring villages.  No one respects a willful child.  Now I am a stranger far from home, who dares not return, and who is grievously weary and footsore from traveling and foraging about the countryside.  I wish only to find a compatible place to live, and in due course to find a good man to marry, but in every village it is only the louts who pursue me.”

“You poor girl,” the King said sympathetically.  “Let me get a look at you.” He lifted back her cowl, and lo!  she was black of hair and eye and fine of feature, a beautiful young woman.  He looked at her body, and now saw that under the rough cloak was the stuff to madden a man's mind:  every curve and point of her caused his fancy to see the likeness of storks taking wing as if imperatively summoned.  She was indeed the loveliest creature he had ever seen.  The seed of his undoing was planted in that moment.

She lifted her large eyes to glance briefly at his face, then lowered them demurely.  “0 King, I am unworthy of your attention.  I will depart forthwith, perhaps to sustenance in yonder field.  I apologize for soiling your view with my aspect.”

But the King was generous.  “Quite all right, my dear.  No need to go to the field.  It would have been a shame to see you married to a lout.  Far be it from me to see the least of my subjects in dire want.  There is a royal station house near the next village which is currently unoccupied.  I will install you there until you can find a better situation.”

Tears of purest gratitude welled in her perfect eyes.  “0, how can I ever thank you for this great kindness, your majesty?  Never in my wildest and most foolish dreams did I ever imagine that any such thing would come to pass.”

“Tut, none of that,” he said, and took her by her delicate elbow and guided her to the station house.  It was in a sheltered spot just out of sight of the road, and was well appointed, for normally a small detachment of the King's guards occupied it.  But in the past decade the need for such activity had diminished, or perhaps the kingship was losing its power.  Gromden was a nice man rather than an imperious one, and had little use for guards or, indeed, for force.  Thus this was a relic of a more imperial age.  “Make yourself comfortable here, and I will check on you next week to be sure you are all right.” He turned to go.

“Oh, but do not leave me so soon!” she pleaded, touching his arm to turn him back.  She breathed deeply as she removed her cloak so that her fine bosom heaved.  “I haven't yet thanked you for your extreme kindness to me.”

“No thanks is necessary,” he said.  “I am glad merely to have been able to help.”

“0 my Lord, but you have done so very much for me,” she said. “If I may presume—“ She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him with surprising firmness on the mouth.

The King reeled as if clobbered on the noggin—and he had been, in a fashion.  He had never before experienced anything half as sweet and potent as this.  This girl seemed to be about granddaughterly age, yet there was something compellingly mature about her.

“0 King, are you dizzy?” she asked, concerned.  “Come, lie down for a moment on this bed, and I will do my utmost to care for you.  I would never knowingly cause you mischief.”

King Gromden was indeed dizzy, but not from any incapacity of mind or body.  Her kiss had simply been so sweet as to awaken in him all manner of notions that had never gotten close to him before.  He suffered himself to be brought to the bed and laid upon it, while his newly discovered fancies danced in circles all around his awareness.

“Perhaps your clothing is too tight, your majesty,” she said, loosening his collar and then his shirt.

“Oh, no, no need to—” he protested weakly.

But she continued, and somehow he discovered himself under a sheet with her, and she had nothing more on than he did.  Then did the storks indeed take notice, for soon such a signal went out as no such bird could have ignored.  He had been made deliriously happy.

In the morning, somewhat ashamed for his weakness of the night.  King Gromden got up, hastily dressed, and left the lovely girl sleeping in the bed.  He had never before done anything like this.  He hurried back to Castle Roogna and went about his business with utmost dispatch.  He tried to forget the affair.

But such was the illicit appeal of what had happened that in the evening he found himself walking back to the station house, nominally to see how the girl was doing.  Love of her burdened his heart, and he simply could not stay away.  Yet when he came to the house, he discovered it empty, with nothing touched.  It was as if there had never been a woman there.  She was gone.

Dispirited, he returned to the castle.  Every day for a month he went to the house, but it remained devastatingly empty.

He realized that the girl had had whatever she had wanted of him that one night, and would never return.  So he resumed his dull kingly life, trying to forget that single dreamlike night of bliss.

Unknown to him, a stork visited the mysterious damsel less than a year after their contact.  She had hidden herself, but the canny bird had located her regardless, and delivered its bundle.

Then, when the King was at supper with the Queen and some prominent visitors, the woman appeared, carrying a bundle.  “Here is your bastard baby, 0 adulterous King!” she cried, and dumped the bundle in his lap.  “And know, 0 simpleton, with what you have sundered your marriage vow.” She flew into the air, dissolved into a cloud of laughing gas, and vanished as all shocked eyes turned to Gromden.

The laughter echoed for a long time as they stared.

Thus did the foul demoness befuddle, seduce, and humiliate the decent King.  The slow deterioration of his power swiftened, and before long Castle Roogna was like an empty shell.  The Queen, of course, would have nothing more to do with him, and he was a laughing-stock throughout Xanth.

Yet such was his goodness that he made no excuses.  He recognized the baby as his own, and set out to raise her as a Princess.  Indeed, she became the apple of his eye, the one he loved best, and she loved him.  But the Queen, outraged by the situation, finally put a curse on the child:  If she remained in Castle Roogna, the castle would fall.  So the girl, now about ten years old and as dawningly pretty as her mother had been, fled the castle.  She refused to be the undoing of the castle as she had been of her beloved father.