Sir Apropos Of Nothing Part 37

I proceeded to break bread with the royal family.

That, to me, is such a preposterous sentence that I have to write it again: I proceeded to break bread with the royal family.

The food was beyond all previous definitions of superb. The meat was not tough and stringy, as I'd always expected, but instead crafted so perfectly that it virtually seemed to melt in my mouth. I felt as if my tongue were going to pa.s.s out from the richness of the tastes moving over it. The wine kept flowing; every time the contents of my gla.s.s lowered, a servant would be there to fill it once more. I felt a sort of giddy warmth, and the singing and laughter and all of it melded together into a gentle, hazy buzzing.

We ate. We chatted. We laughed about matters which, at the time, had been moments of life and death, but now became simply anecdotes. The time pa.s.sed, dare I say it, pleasantly. And yet I never lost awareness of the great tapestry behind me, the image that everyone in the place was a.s.sociating with me . . . except for me.

"I have to tell you, Apropos," Entipy said with a smile, "that I really liked the way you were looking at me when you first got here."

"Did you?" I think my smile was somewhat lopsided at that point. I tried to rest my chin on my hand and missed.

"Yes. I feel as if I surprised you. That's good. I think you decided that you had me too thoroughly figured out. No girl wants to be that predictable, especially a princess."

"Your hair is what threw me the most," I told her. "Hardly the hue I'd become accustomed to."

"Do you like it?"

"It's very becoming. But how-?"

"One of the conveniences of royalty, Apropos," the princess smiled. "There are weavers who specialize in providing glamour. Weavers for eyes, for mouth . . . weavers for hair . . ."

"Ah. So you had a hair weave done. Very nice."

"I've had them done before," said Entipy.

"Yes, and I'm sure that Apropos would like nothing more than to discuss your ever-changing hair color," commented the king, and he was starting to rise. "But we have other matters to attend to this night."

The king turned to trumpeters who were positioned on the other side of the court and nodded to them. Immediately they blasted a fanfare from their instruments that naturally captured the full and instant attention of everyone in the place. King Runcible spread wide his arms as soon as the silence had fallen.

"My good and dear knights . . . lords, ladies, and retainers . . . as you know, this grand banquet celebrates several happy occasions. First and foremost is the celebration of the coming of age of our beloved princess-Natalia Thomasina Penelope-or, as we lovingly call her, Entipy."

There was warm applause from the a.s.semblage as Entipy stood and bowed to them. I had a feeling that if the Faith Women had been in attendance, they would have been less than lovingly inclined toward her.

"Furthermore," continued the king, "her presence here is due to the rather singular achievement of one squire. Wise beyond his years . . . resourceful beyond his training . . . brave beyond his station . . . her protector, Squire Apropos."

Once more there was applause, and I basked in it. I looked out upon the a.s.semblage, and I wanted to feel contempt for them. I wanted to feel anger. But instead it felt . . .

. . . it felt good.

More, it felt triumphant.

The king had stepped back onto a raised platform, and he gestured for me to join him upon it. I had no idea why, but did as he so indicated.

"This young man, it should be noted," the king said slowly, "saved not only Entipy's life . . . but mine. And he did so through the following means: He convinced me, your sovereign, to dress in fool's motley and put myself across as a jesting madman."

My blood suddenly ran cold. I didn't like the way he was saying that. I glanced over at the queen and Entipy. Their faces were inscrutable.

His tone of voice grew more severe. "He then had me climb up to a high wall and, fully at the mercy of enemy arrows, proceed to sing a series of chants, ditties, and songs, some of them so ribald that I would never dare repeat them in the presence of my wife. And while I was doing this . . . he ran off into the forest."

Oh G.o.ds . . .

"In short . . . for the purpose of saving your king's life . . . he thought nothing of asking me to make a total jacka.s.s of myself while he vanished into the protective brush. He did not care about how I appeared . . . or how he appeared to me . . . or anything else, except getting out of there alive."

And he drew his sword.

All the feeling went out of my body. The rich meal settling in my stomach prepared to make a return engagement. Stricken with terror, I nearly swooned. As it was, I dropped to my knees in front of him, looking up at that great gleaming blade poised above me.

This had all been a joke, I realized. A horrific joke on me. Every other person in the place must have known that they were gathered together to fatten up the lamb being led to the slaughter. My likening myself to a chicken being served at the banquet had been more accurate than I'd dreamed; I was about to be quartered like a game hen. And none other than the king was going to be doing the honors.

All of this went through my horrified mind in an instant, and then the king brought the sword down gently on first one shoulder, and then the other. And as he did, he intoned, "Putting aside the debt that all of us owe you, I dub thee . . . for your sheer audacity, if nothing else . . . Sir Apropos of . . ."

He blanked and looked at the queen. She shrugged.

" . . . Nothing," he said with an amused sigh.

It took a moment for it all to sink in, and what helped was the thunderous applause was.h.i.+ng over me. Entipy was helping me to my feet as I looked out upon the a.s.semblage. For one, wild moment I actually thought I saw the shade of my mother. She wasn't looking at me. She was snagging candy from a large dish. Then she vanished. Trust my mother to have her priorities in order.

And from within, my conscience said with utter disgust, You have become what you most despised. How does it feel, wh.o.r.e's son? You have become what you most despised. How does it feel, wh.o.r.e's son?

"Superb," I murmured.

You're an idiot.

"Sod off."

The king took a step forward, resting a hand on my shoulder. "I know some of you," he said, as the applause died and the standing knights took their seats, "may be wondering whether granting Apropos here knighthood-after such a relatively brief time of service, and with such a . . . curious . . . background . . . is truly warranted. My good friends," and he smiled more broadly, "there are some matters in which even a king has no choice. And that includes matters of the heart. For you see . . . my daughter's chosen husband could never be anything less than a knight."

I fell again.

This naturally drew a startled gasp from the a.s.semblage. Runcible looked down at me, slightly puzzled. "Sir Apropos . . . did you so enjoy the experience of being knighted that you desire me to do it again?"

Not necessary. Just stick the sword straight out and I'll throw myself on it, said my inner voice. And this time I was not in disagreement. said my inner voice. And this time I was not in disagreement.

Chapter 29.

"How could you have done that?"

I was stalking down the corridor, my staff click-clicking on the paving. The pleasant haze that the wine had been instilling in me was long gone. Entipy was walking briskly next to me, trying to keep up.

The banquet was still going, although it was showing signs of tapering off. After the king's announcement I had sat there, stunned, a forced smile plastered on my face, nodding in acknowledgment of the many congratulations I was receiving while simultaneously trying to force myself back to wakefulness. Oddly enough, I wasn't waking up. The only conclusion was that either I was awake, or that I was dead and in h.e.l.l. I wasn't sure which option I preferred.

"Done what?" She sounded genuinely puzzled.

I whirled to face her. "Done what?! Your father just announced to the entire d.a.m.ned court that you and I are going to be married!" Your father just announced to the entire d.a.m.ned court that you and I are going to be married!"

"Yes." The question "So?" was implicit in the tone but unspoken.

"For crying out loud, Entipy, you didn't ask me about it! Never consulted with me! Don't I get to have any say in the matter?"

"Well . . . no," she replied, sounding puzzled that I would even have to ask.

"No?!" I was stunned. "How can you say no?"

"It's not that difficult. Watch." She carefully positioned her lips and teeth and enunciated, very meticulously, "Nooooo."

"You sound like a pessimistic cow."

"And you sound like a total ingrate."

"Ingrate! Entipy . . ." I gestured helplessly. "I should get to have some say in the direction my life goes!"

"Under ordinary circ.u.mstances, yes. But you are not an ordinary person, Apropos. You are someone of destiny, and-"

"Ohhhhh . . ." I turned away, not wanting to hear that one again, and headed for my quarters, leaving her behind.

But she didn't stay left behind. I could hear her footsteps following me, and the chances were that wherever her footsteps were, she was likely accompanying them. I turned at the door of my chambers and faced her. "Leave me alone!" I said.

"You do not talk to me that way! I am the princess-!"

"And I'm your 'intended,' which means I'll talk to you any way I like! Or are you going to threaten to chop my head off every day of our married life if you don't appreciate what I have to say."

"Maybe," she said defiantly.

"Oh, well, doesn't that sound like wedded bliss. You're insane!" I leaned against my doorframe, shaking my head. "And even more insane is your parents going along on this mad venture. What could you possibly have said that would have got them to agree to it?"

"They respect my wishes and desires. They know I love you . . ."

"Love! You don't know about love! You know nothing of it! To you it's all a . . . a game! A romantic notion that grabs whatever fancy may be flittering through that newly blond head of yours! What was it before? Blue, green . . ."

"Red, if you must know."

"The color of fire. Makes sense . . ."

"Are we back to that again?" she demanded, looking most agitated. "I told you-"

"How do I know I can trust you! I mean, look at you! Going behind my back, having us betrothed without whispering a word of it. It's wonderful that your parents respect your wishes and desires. A shame that you don't have the same respect for mine. And to be perfectly blunt, Your Highness, if I were your parents, I'd never have given you your way on this . . . this insane match. Just because you said you wanted to marry me . . ."

"Well, there was that . . . and the fact that I told them you and I had made love."

If I hadn't been holding on to my staff, I would have fallen and this time not gotten up. I could barely get the words out. "You . . . what?"

"Told them you and I had made love. Don't worry . . . I made it clear that it was what we both wanted."

Well, now the solution easily presented itself. I wasn't going to have to marry her. No one would make me marry a corpse, because I was going to kill her with my bare hands.

"Made . . . love . . . ?" I managed to get out in a strangled voice.

"That's right." Her eyes were blazing bright. "Love like two wild stallions, thundering across a sh.o.r.eline. Love like two great storm clouds, converging to create a thundering crescendo of-"

I heard footsteps approaching. I did not not need this little lunatic spouting her poetic euphemisms for s.e.x in the middle of the hallway. Things were bad enough as they were. I grabbed her by the elbow and hauled her into my chambers, slamming the door behind us. She seemed startled by the abrupt movement, but then she smiled. I think she liked it. need this little lunatic spouting her poetic euphemisms for s.e.x in the middle of the hallway. Things were bad enough as they were. I grabbed her by the elbow and hauled her into my chambers, slamming the door behind us. She seemed startled by the abrupt movement, but then she smiled. I think she liked it.

I ran back in my mind the conversation I'd had with the queen, the one that left me puzzled. About them understanding about Entipy and me, although the king took some convincing. Well, it was all too clear now, wasn't it.

"Love like two crazed weasels-"

"Shut up!" I snapped, endeavoring to keep my voice down. Sounds tended to carry in these corridors. "How could you have told them that? We didn't make love!"

"We thought about it."

"No, we didn't! I never thought about it!" I snapped. Which wasn't entirely true, but I certainly didn't want to give her the slightest encouragement.

"Well, I did, and that's all that matters."

"It's not all that matters!" I had put aside my staff and was pacing my room with an agitated limp. "G.o.ds, Entipy . . . what if your father had decided that, instead of wedding us, he was going to execute me for deflowering his little girl!"

"Deflowering. Oh, now now you believe I'm virginal," she said, arms folded and looking at me with a c.o.c.ked eyebrow. you believe I'm virginal," she said, arms folded and looking at me with a c.o.c.ked eyebrow.

"No, I believe you're deranged! I believe you're unhinged! A mentally defective troublemaker who is out to ruin the lives of anyone and everyone who comes in contact with you!" I was waving my arms wildly. "Tacit would still be alive if he hadn't fallen for you!"

"But he did and he's not. And you are here," said Entipy, brow knitting. "What, do you wish that you weren't?"

"Yes!"

"That you were just some peasant, wandering in the streets, begging or maybe stealing?"

"Perhaps," I said, although I admit I sounded slightly less certain about it. Then I rallied. "But that's what Tacit was! And you loved him, or thought you did! And Tacit-"

"Tacit! Tacit! G.o.ds in heaven, Tacit!" Entipy nearly shouted in exasperation, ignoring my imprecations to keep quiet. "G.o.ds, one would almost think that . . ."

Then she stopped and looked at me with an air of challenge.

"What?" I said uncertainly.

"That's it, isn't it."

"What's it? What are you talking about, Enti-?"

"You're afraid that Tacit really was my lover . . . and that if you try to take his place, you're not going to compare to him."

I suddenly had a feeling of what the sensation had been like for Tacit when he'd taken an arrow in the chest. My lips were abruptly very dry. "I . . . I told you you were crazy . . . and now you're proving it," I tried to say.

But she was shaking her head with conviction. "I should have figured it out sooner. You actually feel inferior to him. Even though he's dead, you're still lagging behind him . . ."