Witch Doctor - Wiz in Rhyme-3 (34 page)

Then I saw the face, as rough as if it had been hewn from stone, with fire in the eyes and a grim set to the lips, and I quailed for a moment.

Only a moment, not even long enough for my natural mulishness to arise-because I looked at his eyes again and decided that if this man told me to follow him into a battle we couldn't win, I probably would.

"Be welcome in my palace," the Spider King said. "If you have found the means to come to me here, the stoutness of heart to win through, you must be good folk."

I glanced around, but nobody else seemed inclined to answer, so cleared my throat.

But Gilbert spoke up first. ,you must be sure indeed of your power, Majesty, to greet so unseemly a crew as we, with no guardsmen or knights about you. The Spider King's lips quirked into a smile, apparently ignoring the element of threat in Gilbert's words-was the squire out of his mind?

He started to answer, but before he could get out a single word, a horrifying apparition came dashing from behind a pillar. He was only a

man, but incredibly ugly. His eyes and nose were surrounded by a huge tangle of red hair and beard. His tunic and leggings were of good cloth, but irretrievably rumpled. He ran hunched over, a standing cup of dull white metal in his hands. "The cup, Majesty! The antimony cup! You must drink!"

The king glanced at him, irritated. "Away, Oliver. I have affairs in train.

But, "You must drink!" the shaggy man maintained, and he set himself beside the king like a tree that had suddenly taken root. The king gave him a look of exasperation, but took the cup and drank off the draught. Then he pushed the cup back and said, "Now begone! I shall summon you at need!"

"As your Majesty pleases." The vagabond bowed and scurried off.

"As you see, I am attended," the Spider King said to Gilbert. The squire had not moved, but somehow gave the impression of having shrunk away in loathing as Angelique had very definitely done, and the rest of us had backed away a pace or two.

"He could repulse a squadron by the mere look of him," Frisson murmured.

"Not that he would have need to." For some odd reason, Gilbert seemed to relax. "We have come in peace, Majesty, to beseech your aid.

"None would come for aught reason else," the king said, with a sardonic smile. "You seek aid against the queen of Allustria, do you nott"' Something clicked in my mind. "Yes, we do," I said slowly, "and I think you know all about it-starting with my being transported to this universe."

"To the universe of Allustria and Merovence," the Spider King corrected me. "We stand between all universes, here. Yet I cannot be certain that I know all your grievances. Therefore, tell me them." For a moment, Gilbert looked lost. "There is so much . . ."

"I am a poet whose verses wreak evil, Majesty," Frisson said,

"even though I intend it not. Yet this wizard . . ." He nodded toward me. ". . . has taught me to write, so that my verses no longer need to be spoken, and no longer wreak havoc."

Gilbert took his cue. "The people of Allustria have suffered at the hands of Queen Suettay, Majesty, and I was of the band of the Order of Saint Moncaire sent to free one good yeoman and his family from her oppression. Yet my general did command me to accompany this Wizard Saul, for he had a vision that showed Saul to be the salvation of Allustria."

i still didn't like the sound of that.

"He wrested me from my prison cell," the Rat Raiser said, "where I had languished for years, since Queen Suettay consigned me there for no crime but fulfilling my function too well."

"And seeking to rise higher?" The Spider King fixed him with a gimlet stare.

The Rat Raiser bore it as long as he could; then he lowered his gaze and muttered, "I was ambitious, aye. Yet I did not seek her throne."

"That would have come," the Spider King assured him. He turned to Angelique. "And yourself, lady? Have you, too, suffered at the hands of this Queen Suettay?"

Angelique straightened, lifting her chin. "She did sacrifice me to evil, majesty, and did attempt to ensnare my ghost to be her slavebut the Wizard Saul did remind me that I had but to repent my sins, and I would be Heaven-bound. He thus freed me from her power-but she kept my body between life and death, so that I must yet linger on this Earth."

The Spider King nodded slowly, eyes still on her. "And 'tis only the trickle of life in your body that holds you here?" Angelique blushed and lowered her eyes, and I felt a thrill shoot through every limb and extremity. it surpassed anything that was ever brewed in a test tube.

Then the Spider King turned to me with a skeptical lift of the eyebrow. "What say you, 0 Hope of the Oppressed?"

"Uh . . ." I swallowed through a suddenly dry throat. "I just want to find my friend Matthew Mantrell, your Majesty." I was about to add the bit about getting back to my own universe, but I glanced at Angelique, looking so vibrant, alive, and curvaceous, and decided to leave that part out. Honesty, however, compelled me to admit, "I also want to get Angelique's ghost back into her body."

"How shall you do that, with the queen in your way?

I shrugged. "Take the queen out of the way."

"So you are set upon the slaying of a monarch?"

"I hadn't thought of it that way," I admitted, "though I wouldn't mind, now that you mention it-nobody could deserve it more. Besides, her grandmother usurped the throne-she isn't a rightful monarch.

"If she was born to it, it is hers by right," he stated with an air of full authority.

I looked at him narrowly; I've developed this instinct for knowing when a person's trying to snow me. "You don't believe that for a second," I accused. Then pieces pulled themselves together in my mind-the picture of that great fat spider sitting back and laughing at me, after she had just bitten me in Matt's apartment, and all the little arachnids that had been watching me ever since. "You were the one who brought me here in the first place! Maybe you can tell me how I'm going to unseat Suettay! That's what you want, isn't it?" He stood still for a moment, then smiled. "You are astute, Wizard Saul-and, yes, you are a wizard; your denials are futile. As to deposing the usurper, you are the lodestone to which the forces of opposition will gather, and may have the strongest chance of success-but it is not by any means certain."

I frowned. "Just a minute, there. In the first place, I thought you said Suettay wasn't a usurper."

"Her own actions betray that she is, at least, no rightful monarch," the king said. "Since taking the throne, she has sought for the rightful king; for twenty years she has sought the descendant of the queen her grandmother slew."

I nodded. "So she knows she's trying to impose herself on a land that isn't hers, one that rejects her naturally." I had heard of such a thing, in the comparative lit major that I almost finished. "So if I kick her out, I'm just punishing a would-be regicide. And since she's a sorceress, it will be in the land's best interests for me to overthrow her."

"Even so." The king's face darkened; right or wrong, the killing of a monarch went against his grain. "None but a monarch born may claim a crown-and one who knows her claim to be unrightful must bring chaos upon the land she would rule. To do so is to offend against nature and goodness! To do so is to turn her power to evil!/' His glare was so damned intimidating! I stood against it, though, and said stoutly, "So whether she was evil or not, she certainly would be, once she had decided to keep the crown and kill the rightful claimant-if she could." Privately, I was remembering the long history of European dynasties being established by usurpation, and the Chinese convention of the Mandate of Heaven passing to the successful usurper-but the rules seemed to be different here. Or, no, not different, but lying on a deeper foundation; there was some sort of affinity between the rightful ruler and the land itself. Now that I thought about it, European usurpers usually had been related to

the previous dynasty in some way, no matter how tenuous-at least, the usurpers whose families had managed to hold the throne for several generations. I took a deep breath and said, "Majesty, aid us in overthrowing this vile sorceress, and we will seek the legitimate heir!"

Gilbert and Angelique both stared at me, eyes very wide. I didn't blame them; I felt the same way. I had been so determined not to get myself committed! But this was, at least, only a short-term commitment-and it seemed to be the price of the king's help. I guessed that was what he had brought me here for.

Seemed I'd guessed right, too. The Spider King stood in thought, chin sunk on his breast. Finally, he lifted his head and said, "Will you swear? " I ground my teeth in resentment, even though it meant I'd guessed rightly. But he didn't leave me much choice, now. "Yes. But I want to hear the wording first."

"You shall have it." The king plucked one of the leaden medallions from his hat and held it out in his palm. "Upon Saint Louis!

Swear that you will hold the throne only to search for its rightful occupant, and that you will make no attempt to take the crown permanently for yourself or for your line!"

I didn't move, just stood there and looked him eye to eye. "I wasn't planning to take it at all."

"And who will rule the land when the usurper is dead, while you seek out the rightful heir?" the king said impatiently. "Come, swear!

" "I'm tempted. But, actually, I had in mind a ruling council, maybe with representatives from all the different classes-uh, estates." His mouth twisted in sarcasm. "And who will lead it?" I just glared back at him while my mind raced like a rat in a maze, searching for a way out. There wasn't one, so I went for the most limited terms I could think up on the spot. "Okay, so I'll call myself prime minister, or president . . ."

He frowned, not understanding.

"The one who presides," I explained, my exasperation beginning to show. "But I won't call myself king."

He glared at me, but the glare was softening a little. Finally, he ave one short, curt nod. "Good enough. Swear!" I stared for a second longer, then sighed and gave in. I clasped my hand over the king's. "All right. I swear."

"Speak the words!"

I took a deep breath, as much for patience as for a long sentence.

"I swear by Saint Louis that, if I come to lead the government of Allustria, I will hold it only for the purpose of . . ." I broke off, staring at our joined hands.

Beneath my palm, the medallion had grown warm.

"Swear!" the Spider King commanded.

All around me, I felt tension, as if the air itself were thickeningbut I couldn't see anything. I looked up, and the king's glare seemed to bore into my eyes. "Swear!" he demanded. "Or are you false?"

I reddened and tried to ignore the heat. ". . . for the purpose of governing its people as well as I can, but only while seeking its rightful heir . . ."

But the tension in the air was growing physically tangible, and the medallion had become hot. It was beginning to be painful. I gritted my teeth and went on. "I swear that I shall never leave off searching for the heir and will resign as soon as I have found him-or her! And that-" The medallion was a searing pain beneath my hand, but I forced myself to ignore the agony and go on. "-under no circumstances will I seek to take the throne for myself, or for my heirs! By Saint Louis! " Then I tried to pull my hand away, but the king still held it, gaze probing mine, as the heat died away and was gone. Then, finally, the Spider King released my hand. I snatched it away with a groan of relief and looked at my palm to make sure I wasn't burned.

There, tan against the skin, was the image of Saint Louis. I screamed. "No! I'm nobody's man! I'm not property!" My friends stared at me, Angelique frightened, Gilbert appalled, and Frisson very interested.

"It will fade when the terms of your vow are completed," the Spider King advised me. "But for now, you are committed. Never forget. I1

"How can I, when I've got this brand to remind me?" I shouted. He nodded slowly, unfazed by my anger. "That is its purpose."

"And to make sure everybody can tell whose side I'm on," I yelled,

"including my enemies! What chance do I have now to survive if I'm captured?"

"What chance did you have before?" he returned. I just stared at him while the blood drained from my face. He was right-Suettay knew who I was, sure enough, and so did all her henchmen. A disguise might have worked, but I doubted it.

I was a marked man-in more ways than one.

The king still held my gaze, then nodded slowly. "Peradventure you will not forget. Yet if ever you are tempted to, you have but to look in your palm."

I stared at the image in my hand.

"As is your body, so be your soul," the Spider King said softly.

"May your duty to Saint Louis and the people of Allustria be as a brand upon your spirit."

I lifted my head, staring in surprise and shock. Then finally I remembered how I had come into this mess in the first place and said,

"It is. It already was."

But I hadn't realized it before.

So did it matter that I was now locked into it?

Not really. No. But it sure made me feel eerie. I hated being committed, in any way.

I looked up and noticed Angelique eyeing me with a very leery look. I think she was noticing my attitude, too.

Heat ...

I had felt the force of magic enveloping me, binding me, through the leaden icon of the saint. I was branded, indeed, and I wondered what form the results of that branding would take.

"Now," the king said, "I will hearken to your tale of woe. What moves in this Allustria of yours that is so ruinous to her people?"

"Sorcery!" Gilbert declared.

"Slaughter and rapine!" Angelique cried, appalled. But I just stared into the eyes of the Spider King and said slowly, "You already know all that, don't you? You have spies everywhere."

"Everywhere," he said, "and too much-for I must winnow amongst my knowledge to find that whereof you speak. Where is your Allustria?" Gilbert frowned, puzzled. "By Merovence, and north of the Middle Sea."