The Kingdom on the Edge of Reality (34 page)

"I'm sorry, Leo, but I'm not ready for this."

"Sir Jack, I beg of you—"

"My hand is all screwed up, Leo," I interrupted. "I couldn't hold a weapon if I tried."

"I'm sure there's a way around that if—"

"Being in that dungeon was very bad for me, Leo. I need some time to find myself again, whoever I am."

Leo shook his hands in the air. "Then you need to come with us tonight! King Albert made you a lord and that's what you are. Tilling the soil for Lord Hawke is not the way to find yourself!"

"Sir Leo, I'd like to help you, but I can't right now. Do you want to hear me say it? I'm scared right down to my bones. I died in that dungeon, Leo. I was buried alive and I died down there. Now a part of me is alive again, but I'm not ready to be your warrior and lead your goddamn army of seventy-five people against the duke. I need some peace and a chance to get well."

"But you mistake yourself," said Leo, his body beginning to tremble. "Lord Hawke doesn't want peace. He is not a man of peace. With him in charge of the kingdom there will never—"

Gordon had laid his hand on Leo's shoulder. He shook his head slowly and glanced toward the door.

"But—"

Gordon shook his head.

Leo looked quite wild now, but he made an effort to pull himself together. "Very well," he said. "Mora, thank you for dinner. Sir Jack, I hope you are feeling better very soon because we need you desperately."

"Thanks, Leo. Don't be a stranger," I said, feeling awkward and cowardly too.

Leo's hands shook as he put on his robe and cowl, and Gordon had to steer him a little on his way out the door.

"I think I understand your fear, Sir Jack," said Gordon, pausing in the doorway. "But Sir Leo is correct when he says the situation can only get worse. Did you hear about the miller who lost his teeth?"

"I did."

"He died."

"I'm sorry, Gordon."

"In the modern world, if a million people died, we shrugged our shoulders because those people didn't seem real to us, and we ourselves never felt truly real. But here in this kingdom a man's life has a lot of meaning. When a man dies here, it's the real death of a real man. That is part of King Albert's legacy."

"Thank you, Gordon."

"But that could change."

I couldn't answer right away. "Come back and keep me posted on how things are going," I said finally.

"I will," he said, and closed the door behind him.

When they were gone I filled a pot with hot water and worked my hand until the sweat poured down my face. I wanted to believe that I was justified in letting Sir Leo down because of my injury and my fear, but I had no feeling of peace and my thoughts went round and round without any resolution.

Mora was solicitous and rubbed my shoulders. When the fire had burned low and she had banked the coals, we went to bed and snuggled, but I could not make love to her. I slept fitfully and awoke several times to ordinary night sounds that shouldn't have disturbed me. Having given in to my fear, my fear had increased. But what was I to do? I still had no intention of going off into the woods with Leo's band. Yet I agreed with Leo that Lord Hawke would only become more of a menace because that was his nature. By trying to avoid trouble now, I was surely making greater trouble for myself in the future; there seemed to be no right course of action.

Restless and unrested, I worked with Ben and Matt, but I didn't have much to say and they became shy with me again and talked with each other almost in whispers. At one point I overheard Ben say something to Matt about a challenge that had been sent to the duke from the band in the forest. Of course I was curious, but I didn't ask about it, stubbornly refusing to get involved.

Sometime after midday we had a visitor. She rode right up the path and reined in her mare at the edge of the garden where we were working. Handsome, confident, and aloof, she waited without looking at us for someone to attend her. Taking my hoe along with me, and feeling very self-conscious in my peasant tunic and wooden shoes that had belonged to Mora's father, I walked over to see what she wanted.

"Good afternoon, Lady Bennett," I said. "What can I do for you?" I had no idea how I ought to behave with her.

"Good afternoon, Sir Jack," she said in her well-shaped, upper-class tones. "Or is it Yeoman Jack today?"

"I think they call me Jester Jack or Jack the Fool, my lady, or Scarecrow Jack or maybe just plain Jack Straw."

Lady Bennett took her time before she spoke. I thought she would find my joke amusing, but she didn't even smile. She sat watching me from her horse, and there was no way to guess what was going through her mind.

"If you think people are calling you names like that, you're greatly mistaken. To the people of this valley you are still very much the warrior who sent Mike and Mitch to perdition."

"I'll take your word for it, my lady, but I'm not sure I know the difference between good news and bad news right now."

"You may call me Marsha if you wish. And I understand that you've been through the wringer. All I want is to talk to the real Jack Darcey, not to some mask you're wearing."

"Well, my name's Jack Darcey and that's about all I know for sure." Her horse kept backing up, a few steps at a time; I was sure she was doing it on purpose to draw me farther away from Ben and Matt. A few more yards and we would be separated from them by trees and brush. No matter, I saw no danger in following her.

"I heard you were a classmate of King Albert."

"We went to the same high school."

"And what school was that?"

"Chesham Prep in Birchfield, Connecticut."

She laughed at that, a short laugh like a bark. "Well, then I hardly think you need to be confused about who you are."

"Because I went to Chesham?"

"Did you graduate?"

"I did."

"There, you see? When I first saw you, you were dressed as one of the king's knights, and I thought that role suited you very naturally. You could just as easily be a lord as a knight, but a peasant? Never!"

"Marsha, what do you want?"

Again she laughed. "Can't we just talk? Are you so busy with your farming that you can't spare me a moment? I'm really not such a bad person, Sir Jack. You might be interested to know that I attended Finch."

That was an interesting coincidence all right. Chesham boys used to have a couple of dances every year with the girls from Finch. "Is that so?" I said. Was she being kittenish with me? It was hard to be sure, but I was certainly getting that impression.

"Yes, that's so," she said, dismounting and looping her reins over a low branch. "I suppose it really doesn't matter where we went to school. That was on a different star a long time ago. But who knows, we may have something in common."

Now I was certain she was flirting with me. "Dear lady," I said gallantly, "what can a lad with a diploma from Chesham do for you that you honor me with this visit?"

She gave me a smile of recognition, but then she turned away, adjusting her cape. She had put out the bait and I had taken a nibble. That, for the present, seemed to satisfy her. "First I want to say that I'm very sorry about Albert. His death was a tragedy."

That made me take a hard look at her. What was she up to now? "Yes," I said, "and that is an understatement."

"To call something a tragedy can hardly be an understatement," she corrected me. "In the modern world, yes. The media loved to call every car wreck a tragedy and so the word lost its meaning. But here in our little kingdom, words have regained their force, and Albert's death was indeed a tragedy in every sense of the word including the fact that anyone with open eyes could have seen it coming."

The flirtation having served its purpose, whatever that purpose was, she now seemed bent on proving she was a woman to be reckoned with. But that was something I had never doubted since the moment I first laid eyes on her riding up to Albert's castle at Jenna's coronation with her husband and sons in tow.

"Tell me more," I said.

"I don't say this to hurt your feelings. I know that you and he were close. I say this to you hoping that you are a man of understanding who will listen to what I have to say, because this kingdom is deep in crisis."

"Lady, I'm sure you're way ahead of me, and I'm very interested in what you have to say."

"Thank you. In the first place, you can get it out of your head that people are calling you Straw Jack or whatever it was you said. You're the only hero this kingdom has ever had, and I'm afraid you're stuck with that, whatever may happen. Yes, I can see you're rather at a low point, but what of that? All the great heroes had their share of hard knocks: Beowulf, Roland, Lancelot, all of them. It's a necessary part of any legend."

"Those were storybook characters."

She laughed. "So are you; or you will be as soon as we get around to writing storybooks. Maybe I'll write one myself about how you tried to cut your way through two dozen soldiers to kill the duke. I haven't forgotten that epic charge any more than anyone else has."

"If I had it to do over, I would have more sense."

"We can all say that about our whole lives, I'm sure, but it hardly matters. We do what we do; and you did what only a great hero would have done. Would you like to take a walk? I don't think the river is very far, and this might be one of the last lovely days before the weather turns."

There it was again: the hint of a kittenish smile, the subtle body language. I was intrigued by her and curious too.

"I guess Ben and Matt can get along without me," I said, and soon we were completely alone, ambling among the beautiful autumn trees. But if I suspected she was going to seduce me I was wrong, for she turned businesslike again.

"How's your hand?"

"Stiff as a board," I said, for that was what I wanted people to think. I tried to sound resigned and a little bitter, but she wasn't convinced.

"Can't we be friends? Why do you think you have to protect yourself against me? Besides," she said with her bark of a laugh, "the whole kingdom knows that you're nursing your hand, even how often you soak it. It's an important bit of news how our hero is getting along and that he might be able to use that famous sword again. Do you doubt it?"

"Marsha, I'll believe anything you tell me."

"Here's another bit of news, then, and if you haven't heard it, you're the last person to know. Albert's knights have organized a resistance against the duke, and they've just sent him an ultimatum. They're demanding that he vacate the castle and relinquish the reins of government."

"Relinquish them to who?"

"To whom? To the ones Albert named on his death bed. To a spoiled boy heir, an ineffectual queen, and you, Albert's lord minister designate."

"Lord Hawke will tell them to get stuffed with poison ivy."

"Of course he will, but how long can he hold out?"

"If he can hold out until the harvest, he can hold out until spring. And if he can hold out until spring, he can hold out forever because Sir Leo and his band will be dead of cold and hunger and from then on everyone will swallow whatever the duke dishes out."

"Well, I see you're feeling discouraged and I suppose I can hardly blame you. But if you ask me, he won't be able to hold out long at all. He hasn't been able to sleep since the day he had the king murdered, and that will wear any man down very quickly."

I sat down on a fallen tree and put my chin in my hand. I had seen the duke with my own eyes, and it was true that he looked like a mess. Marya had mentioned it too, and it didn't seem far-fetched to her that maybe Albert himself was keeping the duke from sleeping. But what did that all mean for me?

"Lady Bennett," I said finally, "you came here to give me some advice, is that it?"

"Stop chopping clods and get involved here. Things can't stay as they are and there's no safety in holding back. Lord Hawke is going to start to crack, and when he does he's going to make mistakes. Get ready for him. Contact the band in the forest. Go secretly and talk to Dugdale and Griswold. Lay your plans and schemes. You're not a serf that belongs to the duke. You are Sir Jack, hero and rightful lord minister of this realm."

"Why did you come here to tell me this?"

She surprised me by going down on one knee in front of the fallen tree I was sitting on and gazing earnestly into my face. "I see something in you," she said, laying a hand on my knee. "You have some integrity, some force. That teenage boy and Queen Jenna aren't capable of running a kingdom. The duke might have been a likely ruler in some ways, but he's lost his chance now, don't you see? He made a terrible mistake thinking he could get away with murdering Albert, but it's too late now, and it's going to break him up just like a ship on the rocks."

"Okay, Marsha, but I still don't know why you're here."

"Because I want to help you. Because I know how lonely it is at the top, and how easy it would be for you to make mistakes from lack of any practical experience here. Because you're going to need someone to turn to for counsel and advice, someone who has lived here as long as I have, someone who can help you develop your vision of how a kingdom ought to be ruled."

"Me?"

"Yes, you, damn it!" she said, jumping up and waving her hand in the air. "Who do you think we're talking about?"

How long I sat there with my mouth hanging open, I have no idea; but after awhile the idea finally squeezed its way into my brain. This woman wanted to fix me up to be the new king. And she was going to be the woman behind the throne.

"Is your husband in on this crazy idea?"

"Oh, poor Bennett," she said with more contempt than sympathy. "He hardly ever really knows what's going on anymore. He's permanently pickled his brain already, it's a terrible shame. He was a man of parts when I married him. But I don't think he's a factor in this at all." She finished up with a kittenish smile that made me very uncomfortable indeed.

"Lady Bennett, I hate to break this to you, but you're talking to the wrong man. I'm not interested in being a king. I'm not that kind of person at all."