The Squire's Quest (16 page)

"Short lyrics, mostly."

"But is that important?"

Dinadan raised one eyebrow. "To my mind, it's probably the only thing in this whole bleeding fiasco that is."

Terence interposed a gentle question: "And is Fenice in that tent?"

"Oh, yes. But he's seen no sign of Cligés or the others. I asked him if he'd like to let us take her back and put an end to this silly war, and he said he'd love to."

"Really?" asked Terence.

"But he can't," Dinadan said. "The duke's orders were to keep her here, and Boniface took an oath. You understand."

Terence nodded. He wasn't sure that obeying a foolish order was always the right thing to do, but in a world where nothing else made sense, the only thing that one could control was one's own honor. "Is Fenice all right?"

Dinadan blinked. "I didn't ask. Hang on." He directed a question at Boniface, then translated the captain's reply. "She's fine, barring a bit of weepiness. Nothing to worry about."

Now Boniface asked Dinadan something.

"Boniface wants to know if you really are Sir Gawain's squire. I told him you were when I was convincing him that he shouldn't attack us. And if you are, he wants to know if it's true that Gawain once killed a giant and became king of the Isle of Man."

"Not to my knowledge," Terence replied. "And I'd think it would be the sort of thing that would be hard to keep hidden."

Dinadan relayed this response, then listened to Boniface for a couple of minutes. "Pity," he said at last. "It sounds like a spanking good tale. You're sure Gawain didn't slip out and do it sometime when you weren't watching?"

"Look here," Acoriondes said, interrupting this exchange. "Can't we come up with some solution that will free Fenice, stop this fighting, keep Cligés from harm, and preserve the captain's honor?"

"Is that all?" asked Dinadan. "Almost seems too simple to bother with, don't you think?"

"Many problems are less difficult than they appear," Acoriondes replied. "Could you ask the captain what his master really wants? Surely he did not go to war for the sake of this silly Fenice."

"I'll ask him," replied Dinadan.

He spoke to Boniface, who snorted and rolled his eyes at the tent behind him.
"Für die Schwachsinneger? Nein!"

"He says, 'For the
Schwachsinneger?No!
' "

Terence grinned. "I take it that
Schwachsinneger
means—"

"Gudgeon," Dinadan explained, nodding.
"Moron,
if you will."

"Then why?" pursued Acoriondes.

Dinadan asked Boniface. A minute later he explained, "Boniface isn't sure. He suspects that it's all about some disputed lands, though. There are some regions that the emperor and the duke both claim, and the duke is using the emperor's broken promise to seize an advantage in the dispute."

Terence wasn't sure what capturing Fenice had to do with a land dispute, but the Greek nodded at once. "Yes, that makes perfect sense. This battle is simply a prelude to a treaty that has already been worked out."

Dinadan shook his head. "If they've already worked it out, why do they have to fight first?"

"To keep up the illusion," Acoriondes explained. "They pretend that they care about honor, not merely land, and so they must fight. It is for appearances."

"For appearances," Dinadan repeated. "Now, there's a lovely thing to die for."

Dinadan got no further. At that moment, from a crevice in the jagged and broken rock wall behind the tent, came an attack. Terence saw seven knights on horseback, already riding down the German guards who stood before the tent. He had just enough time to see that they wore Greek armor before he was roughly pushed to one side by Acoriondes, who had drawn his own sword and placed himself between the attack and his English friends. Terence quickly strung his bow and fitted an arrow to the string but then hesitated. Who was he to shoot? The German guards obeying their orders or the Greek knights trying to rescue Fenice from abductors? Captain Boniface drew his sword and raced back to help his men, where he was faced by a knight in shining golden armor. They engaged each other briefly, but the golden knight fought furiously and brilliantly—and had the advantage of being mounted—and within seconds the German captain had fallen. A moment later, the clearing was still. Two Greeks and all the German guards lay sprawled before the tent. The golden knight drew off his helm, revealing himself as Cligés, then leaped from his horse. Tearing open the tent, he strode inside.

For a moment there was silence, then Cligés reappeared, Fenice in his arms. "I have come for you, my lady!" he cried.

"My Lancelot! I have been you expecting!"

Cligés threw Fenice onto his saddle then climbed up behind her while the other Greeks gathered the bodies of their fallen companions. Then Cligés waved cheerfully to Acoriondes, called out something to him in Greek, and led his men away.

"He thanks us," Acoriondes said woodenly. "He had been in the rocks, watching for their chance, and when he saw us distract the captain, he knew the time had come."

Terence closed his eyes wearily. Dinadan walked slowly forward, then knelt beside Captain Boniface. The young knight lay on his side, his fair hair covering his face. Dinadan rolled him onto his back and smoothed away the long hair, revealing open and sightless eyes.

Dinadan's shoulders hunched, as if he had been struck on the back, then began to shake. "For appearances," he whispered brokenly between sobs.

The battle ended inconclusively that day. Those of the duke's men who had survived the fighting returned to their siege camp, while those left of the emperor's knights went back within the castle walls. But just as the gates were about to close, Cligés and his men rode over a hill, silhouetted by the setting sun, triumphantly bearing their prize—the rescued Fenice. Cligés had obviously timed his arrival for dramatic effect: Terence, Dinadan, and Acoriondes had been on foot and had still arrived back at Mainz hours before Cligés and his men.

The effect was all Cligés could have asked for. The knights of Mainz cheered enthusiastically at Fenice's rescue and acclaimed her deliverer as a hero. Only Emperor Karl and one or two of his advisors seemed
unimpressed. Indeed, Karl seemed almost angry. Terence commented on this to Acoriondes, who looked surprised. "Of course he is angry," he said. "All his plans have been overset."

"He's not pleased that his niece has been rescued from abductors?"

Acoriondes shook his head slowly. "You poor innocent," he said at last. "Have you
no
experience with diplomatic negotiations?"

"Not enough, I gather," Terence replied. "Why don't you explain to me why Karl should be disappointed at his niece s rescue."

"Rescue? She was never in danger."

"Never in ... then why...?"

"Didn't you hear what young Captain Boniface said? This is not about Princess Fenice, but about some disputed territory."

"Yes, of course. But—"

"Look, sometime during the night, two nights ago, just after the duke had laid down his challenge, the duke and the emperor sent emissaries back and forth and made a deal. The duke would resign all claim to the hand of Fenice, and in return, the emperor would give him rights over that plot of land he wants."

"You know this?" Terence demanded.

"I didn't see it happen, but yes, I know it. But it is not knightly to barter women for land. Both must be won by deeds of honor. So, the abduction was arranged to give each a pretext for battle."

"The abduction was...?" Terence gasped, floundering.

"Arranged. Remember, you yourself wondered why the emperor took Fenice with him to the parlay."

Terence blinked, then added thoughtfully, "And that's why none of the duke's archers could hit anything."

"Exactly. They were taking care not to harm the emperor. That would have ruined the plan. Then they went to war. I'm not sure exactly how the battle was supposed to end: perhaps the emperor was to take the duke captive, then trade him for Fenice."

"But how would that—?"

"In gratitude for the emperor's sparing his life, the duke would then give up his claim to Fenice and vow eternal fealty to Karl."

"And in return," Terence said slowly, "the emperor gives the duke those disputed lands. He would look magnanimous, instead of greedy and conniving."

"And the duke would look like a man who had fought for honor and love, then accepted defeat with grace and courage."

"Quite a touching story, really," Terence reflected.

"Which our Cligés has now made a complete muddle of," Acoriondes said. "And that, my friend, is why Karl is unhappy. All that complicated diplomacy has been wasted, and they have to construct a new fiction."

"I wonder how many men will die for this next one," Terence said.

It didn't take long to learn what the next story would be. The battle was suspended the next day while ambassadors scuttled back and forth between the camps. At the end of the day, Karl called all his court together for an announcement. Terence and Acoriondes stood on either side of Dinadan as the emperor made his speech.

"He says," Dinadan translated, "that the Duke of Saxony has shown great honor and courage and worthiness and ... Look here, do you need me to translate all this rot?"

"No, just give us the gist," Terence said.

"Yes, well, it seems that the Duke of Saxony is the perfect knight. Practically a god."

"The emperor must have gotten what he wanted," Acoriondes commented.

"Wait, he's started on something new," Dinadan said, listening. "He says that the duke recognizes the sovereign power and great mercy of the Holy Roman Emperor, who is kind and forgiving and likes small children and puppies and butterflies—"

"He didn't either say that," Terence protested.

"You said to give you the gist, didn't you? The emperor's a saint. Oh, here's the point. The duke recognizes the emperor's right to marry his niece to whomever he chooses, and he freely surrenders his claim to the hand of the Princess Fenice."

"That's it? Nothing in return for the duke?" Terence asked.

"Wait," Acoriondes said calmly. "There will be more."

The emperor began again. Dinadan said, "The emperor accepts the duke's fealty and chooses to forgive all past disloyalties, because the emperor is kind and gracious and puppy-loving ... Hang on—what's this?" Dinadan listened closely for a minute, then grinned and said, "To honor his loyal vassal, the Duke of Saxony, the emperor declares that two days from now he shall hold a tournament, with all the great knights of Saxony invited to participate. And the winner of the tournament will be granted, by the emperor's great largesse, a fiefdom in the district of Gotha."

"What did I say?" Acoriondes said, smiling.

"Ah," Terence said. "So the duke humbles himself today, and in return, tomorrow he gets to win a tournament and be awarded the lands he wants."

"Quite a clever solution," Acoriondes said, nodding approvingly. "All they have to do now is arrange the tournament so that the duke will win."

"And in the meantime," Dinadan added, still translating, "the emperor knows that his Greek guests have long been eager to return to their homes, so tonight he will hold a farewell feast in our honor. Isn't that nice of the chap?"

"He wants us out of the way before the tournament," Acoriondes said. "You can't blame him, either. After all, it was Cligés who made such a bumblebroth of the last plan."

"Bumblebroth?" repeated Terence and Dinadan together.

"I heard the word from a groom in Camelot," Acoriondes admitted, grinning slightly. "Did I not use it correctly?"

"No, it was perfect," Terence said. "It just sounded odd coming from you."

"What
is
a bumblebroth, anyway?" Acoriondes asked.

"I haven't a clue," Terence said.

"It doesn't mean anything vulgar, does it?"

"Oh, I do hope so," Dinadan said. "Let me think about it on our way back to Athens."

As it happened, though, the Greek party did not leave for Athens the next morning as planned. Shortly after Terence awoke, a grim Acoriondes informed him that Cligés was taken ill and could not be moved. "Ill? How ill? In what way?"

"Fever, delirium. I've just been with him. He's bad, all right. Emperor Karl's furious about our delay, but he's sent for his own doctors."

Terence frowned for a long second. "Acoriondes—" he began.

"If you're wondering about poison," Acoriondes said shortly, "you are not alone. But who? And why?"

"Well," Terence said, "Karl wasn't happy with him after the rescue."

"Karl's no fool. Having done all this for the sake of an alliance with Constantinople, he wouldn't jeopardize it for a petty revenge."

"Then what about..."Terence hesitated.

"Yes?"

"Forgive me, but what about Alis? He believes that he's in love with Fenice, but Fenice is obviously infatuated with Cligés. People have done mad things for love."

Acoriondes shook his head. "I admit that I wondered the same thing," he said at last. "But wait until you see Alis."

"What is it?"

"Come and see."

Terence followed Acoriondes to the private dining room where the Greek royal party ate their breakfast. Alis and Fenice were seated together, along with a few other Greek nobles and Dinadan. Alis looked up anxiously as Acoriondes entered, and earnestly asked something.

Acoriondes replied calmly, shaking his head. Terence guessed he was telling the regent that Cligés had not improved.

Alis bit his lip, then put his left arm around Fenice's shoulders and grasped her right hand, murmuring something gently to her. Fenice took a small bite of sweet bread and accorded him a perfunctory smile. Alis gave the unresponsive girl a squeeze, then released her. She took another bite and edged slightly away from her husband. She didn't seem especially worried, Terence noted.

Alis demanded something else, and Acoriondes replied. Then he translated for Terence. "The regent asks if the doctors have arrived yet."

"Doctors?" Fenice asked, looking up.