Bring Me the Head of Prince Charming Part 24

"What do they say about you?"

"Read my runes," the sword answered.

Charming took up the sword and looked at its gleaming blade. Sure enough, there were runes engraved there, though he couldn't understand them. He looked at the sword with respect and said, "Why did you speak to me?"

"I'm not supposed to," the sword admitted. "But I couldn't just let you walk away and leave me. I'll be out of work, and I love my work. You'll find me very useful. If anyone gives you trouble, they'll have me to answer to."

As Charming turned toward the horse, "Hold, sir!" cried the maiden, rising from her semirec.u.mbent position upon the earth. "I beg thee succor me, by thy knightly oath."

Not recalling any oaths of a knightly sort, Charming never-theless replied, "What sort of succor did you have in mind?"

"I am a Valkyrie," she explained, "and this man over-powered me on a battlefield by feigning death to lure me near. I can only go home to Walhall now if I summon the Rainbow Bridge and have a suitable trophy to take with me. Can you help me locate my horn, which he appropriated?"

"That seems easy enough," Charming replied, "especially if it's the slughorn I blew on my approach. Is that it hanging from the standard by the tent?"

"Indeed it is," she replied, crossing to it, raising it to her lips, and winding it in an eerie fas.h.i.+on.

Instantly, the end of a rainbow fell from the sky, barely missing Charming.

"Thank you, good sir," she stated, commencing to gather Parsifal's armor.

"Don't you want the dead knight?" Charming asked. "I thought you ladies collected them."

"I've no use for a knight who can't keep his myths straight," she observed. "Good armor, on the other hand, is hard to come by." She dinged the breastplate with a sharpened fingernail, carried the pieces to the rainbow, blew him a kiss, called, "Be seeing you," and vanished in a flash of light.

Charming rode off on the charger through the forest with the sword Excalibur strapped to his shoulder, leading his original horse. It was wonderful to feel the sword there. After a while he heard a low murmur beneath his right ear and realized that it was Excalibur, muttering to itself.

"What is the matter?" Charming asked.

"Nothing much. A touch of rust."

"Rust!" Charming drew Excalibur and examined the s.h.i.+n-ing blade. "I do not see it."

"I can feel it coming on me," said the sword. "I need anointing."

"I have no oil."

"A bit of blood or ichor will do very well."

"I have none."

"Then forget about it, laddie, and let me nap and dream of the old days."

That seemed to Charming a very strange thing to say. But he let it pa.s.s. He continued on.

Presently, the sword seemed to sleep, because a low even snoring sound came from it. Charming had no idea that talking swords could also snore. He tried to ignore it, and rode along until he pa.s.sed a man in a friar's cowl.

The friar greeted Charming, and they went their respective ways. But Excalibur said, "Did ye see the sly-naughty look of him?"

"I didn't notice anything of the sort."

"He was planning your destruction," the sword said. "Such insolence! And such malevolence!"

"I didn't think it was like that at all," Charming said.

"Are you calling me a liar?" the sword asked.

"Certainly not!" Charming said, since it is natural to use caution when talking to a talking sword, especially one with runes.

"I hope we meet that friar again," Excalibur said, and rattled up and down with low, sinister laughter.

Later that day they pa.s.sed a group of merchants. They were civil enough, but no sooner were they out of sight than the sword told Charming that the merchants were actually thieves who were planning to knock him, Charming, over the head, and steal him, Excalibur. Charming said he didn't think so, but the sword would not listen. He finally pulled himself out of Charming's belt, said, "I'll be right back," and flashed off into the forest. He came back an hour later, bloodstained and wobbling.

After that, the sword swore and sang like a drunken per-son, and finally began to accuse Charming of planning some evil against him, such as melting him down when he came to the next foundry. It was obvious that the sword had a problem.

That evening, when he lay down for a little rest and the sword had gone to sleep, Charming got up and ran away from Excalibur as fast as he could.

Chapter 2.

Relieved of the sinister company of Excalibur, Charm-ing continued his search for Scarlet's castle. He moved silently through the forest, huge trees on all sides, vines and creepers using up whatever s.p.a.ce was left. It was an un-dersea kind of landscape, green and wet, with odd noises coming from all around him.

Prince Charming walked. Unfortunately, Parsifal's big black horse had run off with his first horse when he abandoned Excalibur.

Meanwhile Azzie, in Augsburg, was rus.h.i.+ng about his mansion frantically, trying to put together the things he needed to give to Charming once he found him.

"Quick, Frike, better put in a bottle of magic wound oint-ment."

"The edged-weapons kind, sire, or the clubbed-in-the-head kind?"

"Better pack in both, we can't tell what he's gotten himself into."

"Lady Ylith is back, m'lord," Frike advised him.

"Oh? I thought she was keeping an eye on Scarlet. . . . More bandages."

"That she is, sir. Though in your absence she's felt obliged to maintain the agreement on your behalf by reporting devel-opments to the observer on a regular, daily basis."

"The observer? That being Babriel? Of course. Good girl. Where is she now?"

"In the parlor, I believe, conferring with the observer over tea. . . . Here are the bandages."

"I'd best stop by and say a quick h.e.l.lo before we leave. Thanks, Frike."

Ylith and Babriel were stealing glances at each other over tall flagons of wine and exchanging glances through the haze of burnt mist which surrounded the smoking crumpets. They seemed to have developed a taste for each other's company. You could tell by the way Ylith arched her back at every op-portunity.

As for Babriel, it seemed that some heavenly ana-logue to desire was working itself out in him.

Azzie bounded into the room, grinning or grimacing as the case may be, causing Ylith to spring to her feet.

"Azzie, dear, I'd thought you still far gone," she an-nounced, rus.h.i.+ng toward him, embracing him. "I was just taking advantage of the opportunity."

"Opportunity for what?" Azzie asked.

"Why, to see how things are going on your end of the business," she stated. "How fares the project?"

"The moment is crucial," Azzie observed, disengaging him-self, "and my presence is required on the scene. I think you'd better get back to Scarlet's castle to watch developments on that end. Hi, Bab.

How's Good doing these days?"

"Why, uh. We've just come up with a very interesting and inspiring touch for our entry. We're calling them stained-gla.s.s windows. I'd really like you to see them sometime."

"Sorry, I'm in a hurry right now. Stained gla.s.s?"

"Yes. Beautiful and morally instructive."

"Ugh! Sounds terrible. Sorry I can't stay and chat. Have another drink. It's good for you. Frike! Have we got everything we need?"

"Here, master, is the final thing!" cried Frike, stump-ing into the room. He was holding in his hand two long horseman's boots made of limp red leather. There was nothing unusual about them except for the small dials set into the heels.

"My Seven League Boots!" Azzie cried. "Frike, you're a genius!"

Azzie put them on, hefted the sack containing spells, extra swords, and other odds and ends. He tapped the heels of the boots twice, activating them.

"I'm off!" he cried.

Azzie went through the front door in a single stride and took to the air.

Babriel and Ylith rushed to the windows to watch, for they had never seen Seven League Boots in operation before. Azzie's pair was not new, but they worked perfectly. Off he went, just clearing the houses of Augsburg but gaining alt.i.tude, and climb-ing steadily.

The Seven League Boots took him high into the air, and Azzie could see the great forest below him, stretching to every horizon in a boundless sea of green. Every once in a while a clearing broke the uniformity and showed a settlement below. This went on for a long time. Azzie didn't know where he was and decided to ask directions. He tried to get the boots to take him down. The boots refused to vary from their previous course. That was the trouble with Seven League Boots. They were very literal, taking you exactly seven leagues at a step, not an inch more or less. He reached down and hammered at them.

"I want to go down right here!" But the boots ignored him, or at least didn't register his complaint.

Straight and true they carried him, above the forest and its several rivers, coming down at last outside a town.

Amazed peasants in the village of Vuden in eastern Wal-lachia watched as a demon made a perfect landing in the middle of the weekly fair.

"The enchanted forest!" Azzie cried. "Where is it?"

"Which enchanted forest?" the villagers cried back.

"The one with the enchanted castle with the Sleeping Prin-cess in it!"

"Back that way about two leagues!" the villagers cried, pointing the way Azzie had just come.

Once again Azzie soared into the air. And once again the Seven League Boots took their full seven-league stride.

Now began a nerve-racking contest in which Azzie tried to estimate what direction to take in order to reach his desti-nation in exact increments of seven leagues. It took a while to figure out the appropriate zigs and zags.

There it was ahead, the peak of the magic mountain, rec-ognizable by the haze of obfuscation which hung over it. But now, where in its vicinity was Charming?

Chapter 3.

Prince Charming walked all day through the forest. The ground was fairly even, there were numerous sparkling streams, and from time to time he would pa.s.s a fruit tree and pick his lunch. The sun slanted in, gilding the leaves and branches. After a time, he came to a glade where he rested.

When he awoke, the woods were gloomy with evening light and something was pa.s.sing near him. He scrambled to his feet and moved off into the underbrush, reaching for his sword before recalling he had abandoned Excalibur. Drawing a knife then, he peered out from behind a blackberry bush. He saw a s.h.a.ggy little pony enter the clearing.

"h.e.l.lo, young man," the pony said, halting, and staring at the bush.

Charming was not surprised that the pony could speak. After all, it was an enchanted forest.

"h.e.l.lo," he said.

"Where are you going?" asked the pony.

"I'm looking for an enchanted castle that is supposed to be somewhere nearby," Charming said. "I am to rescue a maiden named Princess Scarlet, who lies there in an enchanted sleep."

"Oh, the Napping Princess thing again," the pony said.

"Well, you're not the first who has been through these parts in search of her."

"Where are the others?"

"They've all perished," the pony said. "Except for a few who are still striving onward, and who are destined to perish soon enough."

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry for them, but I guess that's how it should be," Charming said. "It wouldn't do to have the wrong fellow awaken her."

"So you're the right fellow?" the pony inquired.

"I am."