The Kingdom on the Edge of Reality (20 page)

Slowly the whole picture began to come together. I remembered what Marya had been saying about Lord Hawke's bucko soldiers and the situation in general in Lord Hawke's fife. An image flashed before my eyes of his two bodyguards leering at Mora as they rode away. Mora was also remembering something, for she looked suddenly quite shaken and afraid. Now there were tears in her eyes. She started to say something, but then she stopped and began to cry. Not knowing what to say, I took her on my lap; and she cried and cried as the sun was going down.

While she was crying I felt so angry that I decided I could never ask her who had done that to her. The kingdom was too small, and when I ran into whoever it was, I would never be able to control myself. I was also beginning to understand what I was doing there in that kingdom, and I needed very badly to have a talk with Albert.

Suddenly I had another image of Mora standing barefoot in front of Hawke's charger, holding up her baby as if for his inspection, the coins falling at her feet. My teeth came together with a snap. Of course it didn't prove anything, but even the thought that it could have been Guy Hawke himself was enough to send me howling into the woods like a werewolf after his blood.

"What's the matter?" said the girl. She was looking closely into my face.

"I feel angry about what happened to you, Mora."

She put her cheek against mine and stroked my hair; she didn't want me to feel badly on her account. Slowly my anger subsided under the touch of her kindness.

Later we sat outside and watched the moon come up. It was a clear night and the stars all looked brand new. First one star to make a wish on, and I wished she would have better luck this year than last. Then, before you knew it, the whole sky filled up with more stars than anyone could count in a lifetime. Finally the moon rose, just a delicate sliver of silver light.

Mora had practically no memories of the modern world. "There was a box that showed pictures of people fighting, and when Dad was watching it, he didn't want to talk or play." She could not remember the farm they had lost. Her earliest memories were uneasy and fearful. Her dad came home from the factory resentful and abusive, and the family stayed out of his way. "Then we moved to this valley and everything changed. There was so much to love, and so much we could do together."

Soon Mora fell asleep with her head on my arm, and I helped her into bed with her mother. Full of strange feelings, I lay myself down next to them and let the deep, silent night close over my head.

Mora was up and going about her business before the sun rose, and I had to roll out at the same time or else lie in bed with her mother. As the morning light through the small windows began to illuminate the cottage, I felt eager to continue my quest. For the moment there was nothing I could do for her unless I decided to move in and be her man, and I was not ready to do that. After we had some breakfast together, I went out to my horse and brought in my little bag of gold.

"Listen, Mora, I really like you a lot and I will do anything I can to help you. But I've only been here a few days and I'm on an assignment for the king. So for the time being you're just going to have to let me be your friend."

She was looking right into my eyes, but I couldn't tell what she was thinking. "All right."

"I'd like you to accept a gift of some money so you can get some help for your mother and get this farm fixed up right. Will you do that?"

"Sure."

"Whatever the future may bring, from now on you are under my protection. If anybody bothers you, you get word to me and I will chase 'em up the tallest tree in this kingdom."

"Thank you, Jack. I hope you'll come back real soon."

I shook some coins out. They were square gold slugs with no pictures or writing. Holding out my hand to her, I said, "I don't even know what these are worth. Take what you need."

She picked five of the coins off my palm. "This will be enough."

"Take another one anyway."

She took one more and slipped the coins into a fold in her clothing. Then she walked me to my horse and stood by while I tightened the saddle girth and put my gear in order. She pointed to the leafy sash that the god had left behind.

"What's that?"

The flowers were wilted, but the leaves were still green. It seemed as if that encounter had taken place a long time ago. In my memory it was more like a legend or a fairy tale than something that had really happened the day before.

I didn't know what to call it. "Pict stuff," I said.

"I thought so! Where did you get it?" She sounded very excited.

"I met Picts on the road. A man with breasts and long gray hair was wearing it."

"Jo Mama! And he gave you that?"

"You could say so. Why, is it special?"

"It's very good luck," she said with such credence that it made me smile.

"Would you like to have it?"

"Oh, I couldn't."

"Here, I want you to have it."

She accepted it with awestruck appreciation, much more impressed with this gift than with the gold. I hoped it would bring her luck and lots of it.

Donning my sword belt and helm, I boarded my charger. He stamped and shook his bridle, and I felt like he might gallop off on his own accord if I didn't keep him under a tight rein. Mora stood by the side of the road in her simple dress and bare feet and the breeze blew me her lovely scent. I held up my palm and so did she. When I turned back for a last look, before the trees hid Mora from view, she was still watching me, her hand raised in a gesture like a benediction.

As I rode away, I felt relieved to be free once again to enjoy the open road and the adventure of my quest, but I was also weighed down by my thoughts. Okay, I understood in a more personal and visceral way the trouble in Albert's kingdom, but how my presence in the kingdom was going to change the situation, I had no idea. If anything my experience had taught me to leave people alone to their own crazy ways. If you could change yourself, you were doing a good enough job. Trying to change other people was just naturally a big waste of time.

My thoughts were going around and around in circles to no purpose. I felt like a good gallop would clear my head, but I didn't know what might be up ahead, and I didn't want to gallop over a child or run smack into a wagon. In the mood I sensed Pollux was in, he might be hard to stop, or even turn, if I gave him his head.

Lost in thought, I continued to drift into Lord Hawke's domain. I had been headed in that direction when I met Mora, and now I was mindlessly headed the same way. I was just thinking about turning around when two riders broke cover from the forest and blocked the road in front of me with crossbows in their hands. I recognized them at once as the men who had been riding behind Guy Hawke; by themselves, they looked even more malicious.

They were both smiling, but their smiles were belligerent and cruel. They were enjoying menacing me with their crossbows. There was no doubt in my mind that a crossbow bolt could tear right through my armor; but it would have to hit me first. And if they had known how their leering at Mora had made me feel, and how deeply angry I was about something that had been done to her, maybe they would have had second thoughts about crossing me.

"Halt!" said one of them, waving his crossbow at me, not really aiming, just showing off his power. I continued to ride toward them, and I noticed a nervous glance flicker between them. Gauging the distance between us with regard to their bows, I reined in.

"You are under arrest," said the same one. When I made no response and just sat my horse calmly, the men looked uncertain.

"Armed strangers are not allowed in this fief. We will collect your weapons, and you will come with us."

I shrugged. "I can ride wherever I please."

"This is Lord Hawke's fief, and he commands here."

"This is Albert's kingdom, and I ride for King Albert."

His laugh was snarly and cold. "Albert, the Pict-lover, has no power here. You will come with us."

"That is treason, and you had both better get out of my way."

They looked at each other, conferring what to do next. For myself, I thought I knew what I needed to know, for they were talking too freely. I was not supposed to return to Albert's court. I was supposed to have a fatal accident, or maybe just disappear. All my intuition told me that if I surrendered to these two, I was pig meat.

"Throw down your weapons!" The crossbows shifted in their hands, beginning to take aim.

"Albert!" I screamed, and as Pollux catapulted straight at them, my sword leapt into my hand. I felt the wind from one of the crossbow bolts as it hissed past my cheek, but they had been startled and shot too quickly and that had saved me.

Pollux crashed into the nearest rider and nearly upset him, horse and all, but the rider managed to keep his seat and draw his sword. I made one slashing feint to his right side, and as his parry came out to block it, I whipped my blade over to the opposite side, and cut him through the side of his neck. He looked surprised as he fell slowly out of his saddle.

Something hard and heavy hit me in the chest, and now I was also falling. Was I dead? Apparently not, for I was madly dodging the hooves of both horses and trying to get to my feet. Above me the other rider was slashing down at me, and cursing because Pollux was in his way and spoiling his aim. I was trying to jab up at him and keep myself from being trampled at the same time. It was all chaos and confusion. Then it occurred to me to cut his saddle girth; that brought him crashing down.

He jumped to his feet, waving his sword, but I just stood there, trying to catch my breath. The horses had moved off to the side, and now there was plenty of room. There was time and space for me to realize I had just killed a man.

Then he attacked me, but I went on the defensive and continued to rest myself while the same image of that first soldier falling slowly from his saddle with his throat cut played over and over again in my mind's eye. I had never killed anybody, never even seriously considered killing anybody even when my temper was up. I fully intended to go through my whole life without killing anybody. Now I had done it, as simply as using that old feint and cut that used to get me points in college matches. Over and over in my mind, the dead man fell from his saddle. At the same time with another part of my mind I was weaving a simple defense against the second soldier's blows.

I had gotten my breath back, and I was not in any immediate danger from this soldier who must have learned his fencing from a fly-fisherman or a rug beater; but I wanted space to think about what I had done, and I wanted him to get away from me.

"You're the worst fencer I've ever seen," I told him. "Be sensible. You don't have a chance against me."

Then he charged me, and that was the end of him. I don't know what he thought he was doing, rushing at me with all his weight like that. I gave his blade a little tap to one side, and let him run right onto my point. And he kept coming at me, not realizing what had happened, not realizing that he had a sword through his heart. I had to retreat a couple of steps so he wouldn't ram into me. His face was still contorted with rage when he finally fell down, with my sword sticking through him and out his back. He kicked awkwardly a few times, like a dog having its belly scratched. Then he shuddered and lay still.

I dropped to my knees. In front of me lay the two men I had killed. The three horses were standing quietly, and one of them began to graze. All around me the forest was calm and still.

What now? The idea popped into my head that I ought to find a phone and call the police. That crazy notion almost made me laugh, but my chest hurt too much.

What had hit me? Wincing with pain, I managed to pull up my chain mail undershirt far enough to see the straight row of peculiar cuts where the iron links had been mashed right into my skin. It was five or six inches long. An axe blade? Sure enough, there was the battle-axe, much like the one hanging from my saddle, lying on the ground. Aimed a foot higher, it would have hit me right in the face. I never would have felt a thing. That crossbow bolt had barely missed me too. All around, it had been very, very close.

And now I was a killer. But what else could I have done? I could have told Albert to forget it when he invited me to his crazy kingdom in the first place. I could have made a plan for my life and followed it, instead of drifting like a chip in a river. I could have made something of myself. Now I was a killer.

I felt dizzy now, and when I put my hand to my head, it came away bloody. Exploring with my fingers, I found a gash in my scalp over my ear. When had that happened? It must have been during that scuffle between the horses. I looked myself over for other wounds, but except for my chest and my head, everything seemed to be okay.

What was I supposed to do now? My chest hurt too much for me to think about it clearly. I needed to go back to the castle and tell Albert what had happened. It was his kingdom. He would have to decide what to do about it. It had been self-defense, hadn't it? They had tried to take my weapons; tried to force me to go with them. They had threatened me with their crossbows. There were two of them, and I was alone. I had the right to defend myself, didn't I?

I got to my feet and looked Pollux over while he stood there calmly, unconcerned with the dead men in the grass and with the violence that had erupted a short time ago. Embedded deep in the wood of my saddle, I found the second crossbow bolt. That was good—it would support my story. I was still thinking about investigations, and evidence, and criminal courts, as though I still lived in the twenty-first century. But that wasn't true anymore. I was a knight living in the Middle Ages now. Well, then, would any of the knights of the olden days, like Lancelot or Gawain or Gareth, have worried about killing a couple of scruffy villains who jumped them on the highroad? No, they would have drunk some mead out of a horn cup and put their weapons in order for whatever life sent them next.

My own sword was still sticking in that dead body. I grasped the hilt and tried to pull it out but it was stuck fast. I had to put my boot on his chest and yank hard. The sword had been holding him propped up on one side, but now he settled onto his back. A trickle of blood was drying on the side of his mouth.