The Kingdom on the Edge of Reality (8 page)

BOOK: The Kingdom on the Edge of Reality
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"Not Sir Rudy, by any chance?"

"Even so," he said, and bowed very slightly in a courteous way.

I nodded appreciatively. "What am I supposed to call you?"

"You can call me Rudy when we're alone because we're equals. But in front of the common people, we always use our titles."

"I see."

"Why are you smiling?"

"I just became a knight. Didn't that make you smile?"

What I had really been smiling about was Rudy's remark about the common people. Rudy, unless I missed my guess, was a commoner born in the kingdom of Detroit, or maybe Cleveland. Well, that had been in the past, or the future, depending on how you looked at it. We had all slipped through a doorway in time, and now our reality was different. It would be wise, I thought to myself, to keep these little ironic notions to myself, to follow along and see what there was to see. I had no great nostalgia for the civilization I had left behind. Nor had my prospects there been very good. If fortune or fate was willing to deal me a whole new hand of cards, then I would play them and see what turned up.

Now we mounted up and rode on our way: one king, his lady, two knights, and a livery of servants. There was no track or trail by which we rode, but our direction was easterly by the sun toward a pass between the mountains.

Soon we had more company: all boys at first, hunters like Aaron, wearing homespun clothes and carrying slings and sticks. Word of our arrival had spread quickly. Then there were girls in woolen dresses down to the ground, who pointed shyly and whispered to each other as they walked along beside us.

By the time we topped the rise between the mountains, we had two dozen children in our procession. It surprised me that they didn't shout or even talk, though they seemed excited and happy for the novelty and whispered together quite a lot. One little boy cried out, "Ho, King Albert!" in his excitement, and got himself a rap on the head from one of the older boys. Very polite they were, these commoner boys and girls.

As we crested the pass, an old woman in a shapeless robe and cowl was waiting for us with a little bouquet of flowers which she held up for Jenna. "Good day, my lady," she said. "Good day, your majesty." There was no telling how old she was, but she seemed solid on her feet and her voice was deep and husky.

"Good day, old mother," said Albert, leaning down to take up the flowers. He passed them to Jenna, who smiled and looked pleased. "And how is your health?"

"Good, your majesty, though I'm about as old as a person can get."

"And how does my kingdom?"

"Good enough, your majesty, now that you're home."

Albert looked thoughtfully at the old woman, then dismounted and took her aside. They spoke quietly and earnestly, though I couldn't hear what they were saying.

It was late in the afternoon; the sun was sinking behind me and the valley before me was slipping into the shadow of the mountain. It was a large valley, long and wide, with two rivers I could see in the last rays of the sun. Here and there, so tiny I could easily have missed them, were wisps of smoke above the trees. And as the daylight faded away, here and there I could see specks of light.

It was then that I truly believed in Albert's kingdom. Costumes and swords hadn't convinced me. Even that flock of children hadn't really done it. Wisps of smoke and specks of light had brought me to the truth of it: hundreds of miles from anywhere, tucked away between northern mountains, there really was a kingdom where Albert was king.

Jenna rode up beside me, and we sat there wrapped in our cloaks, knee to knee, gazing down into the valley where the tiny lights flickered. Sometimes there were none at all, and the valley looked dark and dead. Sometimes as many as three or four little specks could be seen at once, and then the valley seemed alive with people.

"How many live here?" I asked her.

"I don't have any idea. Albert could tell you roughly how many holdings there are. With all the little babies, there must be several thousand at least."

"Does anybody count them from time to time?"

"What for? There's a tithe to be collected, but tithing is done by the holding, not by the head. I suppose I shall have to know more about this when I am queen."

That made me look at her more closely, for she said it so sadly. After a few moments she turned to me. "Oh, Jack," she whispered, "I hope it won't be too boring! Albert is always very busy when he's here, and now that we're staying forever . . . Promise me I can count on you for some diversion now and then."

"Of course you can count on me, Jenna." I didn't know what else to say. I felt like I could see her nude body right through her riding habit, cloak and all. But I couldn't be sure what she was asking, or what I was promising either. I had never had an affair with a queen in a medieval kingdom before. And yet I wanted her. I yearned for her.

"I think we're ready to go," said Jenna, reaching under my cloak to give my hand a squeeze. Albert was mounting up. I could not see his face in the lingering twilight. The old woman was nowhere to be seen. Only two or three children still remained. I was wondering how the eight of us, including Maxine's little daughter, were going to ride down the other side of the pass in the dark, when I heard distant hoofbeats and saw lights approaching from below.

Five mounted men, two with torches, were coming up the draw. Even from a distance they had the look of soldiers, sitting on their horses very straight, and riding in a rhythm that connected them all as a unit. As they drew near, I saw that they were wearing leather armor with iron trim. They had very light saddles that resembled leather cushions with stirrups. Four of them wore long daggers and carried iron-trimmed staffs. The fifth man wore a rapier, and was every inch an officer. His hair and beard were dark and curly, and he had alert eyes that looked black in the torchlight. He must have been around forty, and was in excellent shape, wiry, close-knit, centered.

"Hail, King Albert!" he cried as they all reined in. Each of them thumped his chest with his fist in a robust salute. They all looked happy to see Albert.

"Hail, Sir Leo, well met," said Albert. "How did you know we were here?"

"Good news travels swiftly, my liege. The hare told the deer and the deer told the bird. Is this the fencing master?"

"Leo, this is Sir Jack, the last but not the least. Jack, this is Sir Leo, marshal of the garrison."

"Well met, Sir Jack," said Leo, smiling and extending his hand. When I reached out he grasped me by the forearm, so I gripped his in return, and that was the way we shook our greeting. It seemed quite natural and I rather liked it. He had a slight eastern European accent and I liked that too. In fact, I took an instant liking to him and I hoped we would be friends.

"Well met, Sir Leo," I replied. "Were you expecting me?"

"I've been looking forward to meeting you. The king says you have a way with a sword."

"I'm a bit out of practice."

"No matter," he said, indicating the valley below with a wave of his hand. "Here we have plenty of time to practice."

"It's late, Leo, and this girl is shivering," said Albert, pointing to Mimi. Leo quickly organized the march, and soon we were riding down into the valley by the flickering glare of the torches.

It had been a long day and a long journey. It had begun with our loading of the bags and horses into a huge iron bird that growled like thunder as it flew. That had been at least a thousand years ago, or maybe it was a thousand years in the future. I didn't care anymore. My brain had gone to sleep. By the time we reached our shelter for the night, I hardly glanced at it though I saw there was a fire inside. Someone put a bowl of soup in my hands, but I could barely eat for yawning.

"Put him to bed, Leo," said Albert. "He's as sleepy as this girl."

Gentle laughter rose from the crowd, but I didn't mind. Candlelight led me to warm blankets on a pallet bed, and I could barely tuck them up around me before I was fast asleep.

Chapter Four

"Sir Jack."

Who was Sir Jack?

"Sir Jack."

A hand was shaking me gently by the shoulder. I opened my eyes. I was in a strange, new place and there was something else too . . . Oh, yes! I was in a strange new time, cut off from the past which was also the future. How peculiar it felt to remember that! I had woken up in many strange places in my travels, but I had never woken up with quite the same feelings that I experienced that morning. I felt like a boy waking up in a new world that was full of mysterious and exciting possibilities.

It was Maxine, Émile's daughter, who had wakened me. She pressed a warm, wet towel into my hand, and said, "Breakfast is on the table when you're ready, Sir Jack." I applied the warm towel gratefully to my face and neck; there is nothing nicer in those first moments of the day. Then I looked around to see where I was.

I was in a long, narrow fieldstone building with a firepit in the middle and a low thatched roof. Around the perimeter of the room were shelves made of undressed planks on supports set in the stones; several of the shelves held clothing, blankets, and personal effects, neatly folded with an arrangement that suggested military order. Beneath each shelf was a thin mattress like mine, but under the empty shelves the mattresses were rolled up and secured by thongs. I had the impression that only five or six people lived in this barrack, though it was set up to accommodate quite a few more.

There were two windows with shutters open to the fresh air and the savory smell of cooking. Still in my tunic and tights, I stuck my feet into my boots, threw on my cloak, scratched myself, and ran my fingers through my hair. Wrapping my cloak around me against the chill, I went outside.

Seated at a long wooden table were Sir Leo and a few of the other soldiers. They were flirting with Maxine, who was waiting on them; she seemed to enjoy the attention. There was something of the flavor of an old country inn about the scene, but when I appeared, the banter subsided and they all turned to look at me.

"Welcome!" said Sir Leo. The word seemed pregnant with meaning. Welcome to our home. Welcome to our era. Welcome to our life. It also seemed to say: How are you? And who are you? And how do you feel waking up this morning in a place you can barely imagine?

No one else spoke. They went quietly back to eating, giving me plenty of space to look around and make myself comfortable. The remains of a large breakfast were spread across the table and there was plenty left over for me.

The stone barrack was situated at the bottom of the pass we had come down the night before. The dirt road ran across some meadowland, east by the sun, into the woods. It was a brilliantly clear day and in every direction the countryside appeared clean and fresh, the way it does when you backpack several days into unspoiled wilderness. Yet with camping you take with you as much of the accouterment of civilization as you care to carry: lightweight, compact, synthetic, state-of-the-art civilization all wrapped up in nylon and aluminum. This was an entirely different experience, and so far that was all I knew for sure.

Maxine gave me a square wooden plate, a two-tined iron fork, and a wooden spoon, and I began to help myself. In imitation of the others I used my own dagger to cut the meat.

"Where is everybody?" I said between bites.

"The king left at first light," said Sir Leo. "He's a very busy man, especially when he's just come home. Everyone else went to the monastery to hear Mass. Gordon here can show you the way after we have our fencing lesson." One of the soldiers nodded. He had thick, curly blond hair and a marvelous, oversize mustache.

"All right, Sir Leo," I said. "I'll be happy to help you any way I can. What time is it, anyway?"

They glanced at each other, and there was an odd silence.

"Did I say something foolish?"

"No, no, Sir Jack," said Maxine. "Never mind about thinking you're doing anything wrong. Just give yourself time to get used to the way things are. But, you see, no one can tell you what time it is because we don't have any clocks."

"There are no clocks?"

Sir Leo shook his head. "There are no clocks anywhere here, Sir Jack. They don't exist."

"Not one?"

"Not even one."

"There's a sundial in the monastery courtyard," said Maxine.

"Oh yes," said Sir Leo, laughing, "but the only person who can read it is the abbot who made it. It doesn't tell the hours but just marks the time for prayers."

The oddest thing about this discovery was that it didn't seem to matter. If there weren't any clocks, then there weren't any clocks. So what? Who needed clocks?

"Well, how much time," I said, "roughly speaking of course, would you say I have to catch up with them at the monastery?"

Leo laughed. "I don't know. But if you miss them at the monastery, you'll catch up with them at the castle."

"There's no risk of losing anyone because there's nowhere to go," said Maxine. "Keeping up with the king is another story, but that's because he has so much to look after, God bless him."

"Then let's have our fencing lesson, Sir Leo, and I'll be on my way."

"Very good, very good," said Leo, jumping up. "I've been looking forward to this."

"My sword's in the barrack. I'll . . ."

"Gordon, get the gentleman his weapon," said Leo.

"What did the king tell you about me?"

"He said you were a champion. He said you were an inspired swordsman."

"I was a competitive fencer in college, Sir Leo. I took some trophies at regional competitions. I taught stage dueling in the theater. I collected swords until my lifestyle got too drifty for that sort of thing. But just to let you know, Sir Leo, I haven't had a sword in my hand for a good many years. Will you give me time to warm up?"

He answered me with a polite bow. Time meant nothing here. There weren't even any clocks. I suddenly realized I was very happy about that. No clocks at all. All right!

I undid the clasp of my cloak and draped it over the bench. Gordon helped me into my harness. Then I walked out into the meadow to make sure I had lots of space as well as lots of time. The sword swung gently in its scabbard, and I let the rhythm of its swaying enter my body. I let it walk me around in circles to the left, then to the right, squares and triangles, stopping and starting, until I felt the physical familiarity that I had been anticipating. We weren't jarring against one another. We weren't pushing each other around. We were part of the same whole, that sword and I, and yet I had never held it in my hand.

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