The Kingdom on the Edge of Reality (15 page)

Now she was eager to assist me and led me through the corridors to the kitchen. "Of course, we all had breakfast hours ago," she said, teasing me, "but if you ask her nicely, I'm sure cook will put something up for you." Dropping me a curtsy, she went on her way.

The cook clasped me to her ample bosom and clucked her tongue about my time in the dungeon. I wasn't sure whether Hélène was annoyed at me for making trouble for Albert or with Albert for punishing me. It didn't matter. To Hélène we were both just boys home from school, and she wanted us to play nicely and stay out of mischief. She gave me a whopping breakfast, and when I told her I was going on quest, she made a series of emphatic and incomprehensible French gestures and put me up a sack of food that would easily last me four or five days. Then she gave me another hug and sent me off to play.

Sir Leo was glad to see me and shook my hand warmly. I had caught up with him in the field outside the walls where he was practicing with a bow and arrow. "Do you shoot?" he asked me.

"I haven't since I was a boy."

He handed me his bow and quiver and watched me put two arrows in the target and scatter five or six others in the grass beyond it.

"That was not too good," he said, holding out his hand for the bow. In one fluid motion he nocked and drew and loosed and that arrow sprang into the bullseye like it couldn't wait to do anything he wanted it to.

"That's fantastic, Leo," I said, and he grinned with pleasure. "How did you learn to do that?"

"Well, I taught myself. Or you could say I learned it from the birds. Have you ever wished you could fly?"

"Who hasn't?"

"I made myself miserable with envy watching the birds when I was a boy. But when I discovered archery, I realized there was more than one way to ride the wind. If my body couldn't do it, my spirit could. Here, take this arrow and throw it at the target."

When I tried, the arrow twisted in the air and landed a few yards away pointing back at me. "Keep trying," he said, but no matter what I did, the result was pathetic.

"It's like trying to make a dead bird fly," I said.

"Now
try the bow."

When I took up the bow this time, I had a different attitude toward it. It was a pleasure to nock my arrow, and to draw the feather back to my cheek. And when I loosed at the target, my heart leapt forward with the arrow as it hummed over the field. When it thumped into the target, I felt an entirely different sense of satisfaction than archery had ever given me before.

"That was better," said Sir Leo. "Now let my explain something about your feet."

Well, for the next hour or so I had one of the most exhilerating lessons of my life. Leo was a real genius when it came to archery and his enthusiasm was contagious. By the end of the lesson, I was determined to learn everything the man could teach me.

"I think we have a lot to learn from each other," he said.

"A pleasure, Sir Leo," I said. "Thanks ever so much." He reached out with his hand and we clasped forearms in the ancient way, his dark blue eyes smiling into mine. What was happening to me? I had never in my life had the slightest notion of ever becoming a soldier. But standing there beneath the outer walls of Albert's castle with this comrade-at-arms, I felt as though I was being challenged to focus all my intelligence and intuition, and even my warmth and love, into my new profession as one of Albert's knights.
Rescue some fair damsels. Get some cats down out of trees. Let your guide be your own high sense of ethics.

"I'm going on quest, Leo."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" he said. "The first time I went out on quest . . . Well, you'll see for yourself. I don't have to tell you. There's nothing like a quest. When are you going?"

"As soon as you can get me ready."

The armory had many things in common with a blacksmithy, but it was neater, not as sooty, and very interesting to me because I had an eye for the aesthetics of old weaponry. The armorer was a short man with a potbelly who looked me up and down when we walked in. "Oh, so you're the fencing master," he said, as though he'd seen better.

"How did you know?"

"For one thing, I've never seen your face before. Also, you're wearing the sword the king had me make for you. What do you think of it?"

"It likes me well. It's a superlative weapon that was fashioned by a consummate artist."

"Well, if you know that much," he said, smiling with one side of his mouth, "maybe you do know something. What can I do for you lads today?"

"Sir Jack is going on quest, Don. He needs a bit of this and that."

"I think we can fix him up," said the armorer with pleasure, rubbing his hands together. "This will be your very own bow, and here's your quiver."

The bow had a reflex curve like Leo's and the quiver was divided into compartments for different kinds of arrows. "These arrows are for small game," Leo explained. "These are for big game. And these," he said, holding up an arrow which had a long thin iron head, "are armor-piercing."

I thought he was joking, but he gave me a deadly serious look that made me wonder if I was missing the point. Now Don was showing me a two-foot, hickory-handled clobberer with one triangular spike on the side of its iron head, and I recognized it right away from my weapon-collecting days. It was called a war hammer, and it too was meant for piercing armor.

"This is from a Spanish design," he said, offering it to me handle-first.

"Uh, hold on a second here, Don," I said. "Are the rabbits and the bluebirds out there really as dangerous as all that?"

"Oh, no," he replied good-naturedly, "but Lord Hawke's soldiers are very heavily armed now, as I'm sure you've heard, and so we really have to—"

"Lord who in the hell did you just say?" I suddenly felt like the sky had come down very low and heavy, ready to drop right on my head.

Leo and the armorer exchanged a very amazed look. "Lord Hawke has the fourth fief," said Leo, and he and the armorer exchanged another look. "Is it possible that you haven't heard about him?"

Guy Hawke?
I opened my mouth but no words came out. Still holding the war hammer, I walked slowly over to the door of the armory and stared out at the edge of the thousands of miles of deep woods that held me virtually a prisoner in that kingdom. There was no longer any mystery about the situation. All the answers to all the puzzles came crashing together in the same horrible instant.

Yes, I had certainly earned my prize as the most gullible of chumps back to the beginning of chump time, but I understood it all now. Everything all the way back to Rudy Strapp's rather unconventional way of making sure I took Albert up on his invitation to a little study break at the old homestead.

I laid the war hammer nonchalantly across my shoulder like a giant in a fairy tale, and turned back to the room. Whatever look was on my face at that moment must have been a scary sight because both men took a defensive step backwards.

"So what else hast thou, O Don, for my protection and self-preservation?" I asked.

We all understood that there was more to be said, but they gave me the time I needed to get ready. "Well," said the armorer, "there is an extra something that I made up special. Slip off your tunic and try this on for size."

It was an undervest of chain mail, heavy but not excessively so. It must have taken great patience to fit those tiny rings together. "Thanks, Don," I said, smiling through the heavy fog of my thoughts. I was touched by his skill and his thoroughness, his concern for someone he had only just met. And as the truth of my situation was sinking in, I also felt grateful for anything that would make me feel safer.

"The next thing on the list," continued the armorer, "is your battle axe. You'll see quite a few of those out there. They are very handy for getting in the firewood." A short, double-edged version of the ancient weapon, it was economical in size, but sharp and heavy enough to chop a man in half. There was a small round shield of leather and steel, and heavy leather gloves with steel strips in strategic places. To top it off, there was a light helm just low enough on the sides to cover the ears. It had a nose guard but no visor. "That's all for now," he said. "Your saddle has slings for your gear, so it will all be conveniently at hand."

I felt very strange indeed. Reality had not caught up with me, and I could only experience myself as a character in a story or in a dream. "Gentlemen," I began haltingly, "you may have noticed that I was surprised to hear about this Lord Hawke. Would that by any chance be Guy Hawke, who went to school with the king?"

"I'm not sure of the first name," said Leo. "But, yes, I think that might be it. What do you say, Don?"

The armorer looked uncertain. "Yes," he said finally, "I believe that's right. And it's for sure he went to high school with the king, just like Lord Griswold and Lord Dugdale."

I had been hoping and praying that it wasn't so, but now the truth resounded in my mind like the slamming of a heavy iron door.

"And this Lord Hawke—I'm just guessing now, gentlemen—this Lord Hawke is causing some problem, shall we say, in the kingdom. Am I on the right track?"

"I'm shocked that nobody has told you about this," said Leo.

"Inexcusable," echoed the armorer.

"Yes, well, okay, but this is the big question now, gentlemen. Did someone have the crazy notion that somehow I was going to do something about whatever problem Lord Hawke is creating?"

"The mage saw it in her cards," said the armorer. There was no irony in his tone or expression; it was obvious that he had nothing but respect for Marya and her prescience.

"Well, I suppose that's enough of a surprise for right now," I said, meaning that I felt like any minute my brain was going to start bleeding. "I think you said there was some way to put all this stuff on my horse. Could you show me how to do that, please?"

While we were saddling my horse and Sir Leo was showing me how to sling my armaments so as to make them most comfortable and accessible, I was trying to pay attention; but it was difficult because my thoughts were in such a turmoil.
Do you still ride well? Do you still fence? You used to be a real champion.

"Are you still going on quest?" Leo asked me.

You really don't have any idea what's going on here, do you?
"Yes, I suppose so. I need to do some thinking alone. I don't want to see the king right now."

"I cannot tell you . . ." Leo began.

"Yes, yes," I said, putting up my hand. "Let it be. What's done is done." I wasn't feeling stoic or forgiving. I just didn't want to talk about it.

"Well, mount up then," said Leo. "There's one more thing I need to show you. Ha, ha! It's a little harder getting aboard when you're wearing all that iron, isn't it? Never mind, you can do it. Up you go! Now pay attention. Pollux is a real war-horse. He's had some very special training. Get a good grip on him now. Make sure you're set." Leo dropped his voice to a rough whisper. "Now yell: Albert!"

"Albert!" I yelled, and Pollux sprang forward so suddenly that it took everything I had to keep from going backwards over his tail. By the time I had regained my seat, he was running at a full gallop. Some Pollux! He was so possessed that it was difficult to turn him. We galloped in a wide circle and came back to where Leo was standing. I waggled my head in appreciation, and Leo laughed. "I guess that's what you call a charger," I said.

"Exactly right. He's a real charger. Have a good quest, Sir Jack! Here's a little bag of gold, though you probably won't need it. Everyone likes Albert's knights and everyone will be glad to see you coming. But keep your wits about you if you cross into Lord Hawke's fief. You have every right to be there, but sometimes his soldiers don't act that way. Don't let them intimidate you. Remember that you ride for the high king."

I jiggled the little bag of gold in my hand. "And Leo, what about the Picts? Can you tell me . . . Oh, never mind," I said, as this look of total perplexity spread over his face. "Sorry I asked. I'll just have a look for myself. Good-bye, thanks for everything. See you in a few days."

"Good-bye, my friend," he waved. "May God go with you!"

As I rode away the absurdity of my whole situation broke upon me like a wave. I began to giggle and chuckle insanely, and my laughter made my armor jingle in counterpoint to the rhythm of my horse. You may have noticed that people who are sure of themselves and focused on what they are doing have little sense of humor; a little now and again, but not much. I think a real sense of humor is the main safety valve for people who lead erratic or desperate lives. It protects them from insanity and despair.

I was riding slowly and aimlessly, and I hadn't gone far before I came across Marya Mage. She was out of breath, and she had been looking for me.

"There's something I need to tell you before you ride out on quest."

"I already heard."

"Are you angry?"

"I just heard about it. I don't know what I feel. Whatever possessed that fathead king of yours to let Guy Hawke into his kingdom?" No, what I said wasn't true. I felt angry as hell.

Marya put a finger to her lips—I was not to express disrespect for the king. Then she beckoned me off my horse.

"All right," I said. "What's the story?"

Marya led me into the privacy of a nearby grove. "It's an old story, Jack. It takes a lot of money to set up a kingdom like this, and Guy Hawke had a lot of money to kick in. That's why he's a duke instead of a marquess like Bennett, or an earl like Griswold. It's just the history of the world repeating itself."

"But . . ."

"Listen, I'll tell you how it was. Duke Hawke didn't do so badly in the beginning. In fact, you could say we owe him a great deal. That's what makes it complicated. You see, in the early days of the kingdom, when Albert was trying to put the pieces of this puzzle together—well, they didn't fit together very well. There was something missing, and you know what it was? Albert really didn't know how to be a king. He didn't know how to command. He was too nice, too obliging. He wanted people to do what he told them to because they understood and agreed with him. So there was too much delay when decisions had to be made, and it started to get chaotic here. Little factions formed among the farmers, and there was hostility and even a few violent encounters between them. The whole project was about to come unglued."