The Secular Wizard - Wis in Rhyme - 4 (52 page)

Whoever nears him, shrink with dread!

For he on anthracite hath fed, And been drunk on spirits of petrol twice!"

"Rather more than twice," Stegoman said, "if 'spirits of petrol'

refers to mine own flame. It is unkind of you, Matthew, to remind me of my unsavory past."

"Sorry, old saurhead," Matt apologized, "but I'm more concerned with reminding any potential attackers than you."

"Well, I will suffer it," Stegoman sighed, "and so will they, if they seek to meddle." He glared around him again. "Be about your business, now, so that we may leave soonest."

"Gotcha. Good luck." Matt turned away toward the door of the keep. Saul caught up, with Arouetto in tow and Sir Guy as rear guard.

"Think anybody will get in our way?"

"Somehow," Matt said, "I doubt it." He turned toward the door to the keep, to test his theory.

The guards at the door wavered, then crossed their pikes, though not with much precision.

"His Majesty wanted to know when I escaped from the prison to which he sent me," Matt said as he came up. "He would not appreciate having me stopped."

He didn't even miss a step. The guards wavered, but Sir Guy barked, "Stand aside!" Foot soldiers obeyed knights; that was all there was to it. They yanked their pikes aside and shoved the door open. Matt went right on in, with Arouetto and Saul close behind him. They marched into the throne room and found it packed with courtiers as usual-but they were just pulling back as a footman madly fought his way through to the throne. Matt stopped just inside the doors, waiting until the servant had managed to clear the last of the courtiers and was running up on the dais; then Matt called, "Don't bother telling him we're coming. It's old news."

The footman spun about, staring in horror.

Matt started down the aisle, calling out, "You did want to know when I escaped, didn't you, your Majesty?"

King Boncorro stared in surprise-but Chancellor Rebozo, behind him, turned pale, looking as if he had seen a ghost, pointing a trembling hand at them.

King Boncorro gave Matt a smile of amusement that threatened to turn into a wolfish grin. "Indeed I did, Lord Wizard! You seem to be more powerful than I had thought! But how did you manage it?" "I got out with a little help from my friends." Matt nodded at Saul and Sir Guy.

Rebozo cried, "Who is that with you? Matt ostensibly ignored him. "Your Majesty, this is Saul, the Witch Doctor, and this-" "The scholar Arouetto!" Suddenly, Rebozo had gone from shock to rage. His staff snapped down to point at the scholar, and he began to chant in the arcane tongue.

"No, Rebozo," Boncorro said-but for once the chancellor ignored him, perhaps did not even hear him; he just kept chanting, his voice rising with menace.

King Boncorro flashed him a look of irritation. "I said, enough!" He raised an open hand, palm toward Rebozo, and snapped out a short sentence that sort of rhymed, in a language Matt didn't recognize-but Rebozo rocked as if he had been struck with a body blow.

"I appreciate your attempts to protect me," said the king, "but I wish more information before we send this scholar back to his refuge." Matt stared, shaken. He already had some idea of Rebozo's power-and for the king to be able to counter it so easily meant he had far more power than Matt would have thought possible in so young a man. It made it worse that Saul was looking very interested. "I didn't catch any names in that couplet, Matt-no evil ones, and no holy ones, either."

"There were none," Arouetto assured him.

Saul shot him a keen glance. "You know that language."

"Both of them."

"Well, scholar!" Boncorro turned to him. "It is long since I have seen you-and I cannot say it is unpleasant. How is it you have chosen to grace us with your presence?"

Arouetto spread his hands. "Your Majesty, the residence you have afforded me is luxurious, but it is also lonely."

"So you have come for companionship? But how did you manage to leave?" Boncorro turned to Matt. "That was, I take it, your doing?"

"Yes, your Majesty. He struck me as just the sort of person you would enjoy having around your court."

Rebozo started forward in panic-and jarred to a halt, as something unseen stopped him. The whites showed all around his eyes.

"I must admit that I have enjoyed his conversation in the past," King Boncorro said, "but Rebozo advised me that his ideas would undermine my rule, and I believed him. Indeed, I find no reason to question my chancellor's advice, even now."

"I do, your Majesty," Matt said. "in fact, this scholar's thoughts are moving toward the same goal as your own." There was no outward change in Boncorro's face or body, but some-how Matt felt the impact of a great deal more interest. "Is he truly!" "Yes." Saul spoke up unexpectedly. "He's looking at the potential of human beings by themselves, your Majesty. He hasn't said much about magic yet, but he did get into that the other night, discussing the theories of Pythagoras."

"A heretic and blasphemer!" Rebozo burst out. "Pythagoras?

The prime misleader of all human minds! Majesty, do not listen to them! They will lead you to your doom!"

" 'Heretic'? 'Blasphemer'?" Boncorro turned a skeptical eye toward his chancellor. "Odd words, from one who acknowledges Satan as his master."

"Even to Satan he would be an infidel! He disregards the supernatural persons, while he pursues supernatural power! He-"

"Indeed! This Pythagoras seems to have investigated exactly the questions that I, too, pursue! Why have you never told me of him be-fore, Rebozo?

The chancellor turned ashen again. "Why ... because ... because..." "Because it might sidetrack you from the Hellhound trajectory he has plotted for you, of course," Saul said sourly. "Even I can see that, and I've never met either of you before!"

"Has he really?" King Boncorro turned to him with a stare that would have made an elephant nervous-but Saul only glared back at him.

"Come off it, your Majesty! You know that everyone you meet is trying to lead you toward their own goals, for their own purposes!" The whole throne room was dreadfully quiet.

"Why, yes, I do know that," Boncorro said easily. "It includes your-self, of course."

"Of course," Saul said with his sardonic smile. They locked gazes for more than a minute, as the silence stretched thin. Finally, Boncorro stirred and said, "It is refreshing to speak with an honest man."

"Diogenes would have approved of him," Arouetto said. The gimlet gaze switched to him. "Who was Diogenes?

" Majesty, no!" Rebozo cried in agony.

King Boncorro shot him a glare. "Would you keep me from learning, then? Yes, because it might weaken your influence over me!

I grow weary of this, Rebozo."

The chancellor stared at him, and there was a flash of irritation in his face-or arrogance, even-but it faded instantly, into strain and trembling. King Boncorro held him in the focus of his glare a few seconds longer, then turned back to Matt. "Is this what you sought to accomplish by bringing your friends, Lord Wizard?"

"Frankly, no," Matt said slowly, "though I did think you and Saul would find you have a lot in common, at least intellectually." "Then why did you bring them?"

"To issue you a challenge," Matt answered. "I challenge you to come and watch the scholar Arouetto talk with a group of young scholars for only one evening."

The throne room was silent again, but Boncorro's brow was wrinkled in study now, not in threat. Then Rebozo moaned, and Boncorro said, "I see what you would gain thereby-you hope to interest me so much that I will turn to Arouetto's teaching, and away from Rebozo's. But why should this concern you?"

"Because," Matt said, "what happens in Latruria influences my people in Merovence-and whose counsel you listen to affects how your Latrurian folk will affect my Merovencians. " "So you fear that, if I follow Rebozo's line of thought, my people will subvert yours," Boncorro said. "But I have no concern over what happens to your people-only to my own, and that only because their welfare affects mine. Why should I accept this challenge of yours?" "Because," Matt said, "what you learn might enhance the welfare of both your people and yourself."

King Boncorro stared at him again. All the courtiers held their breath and waited, sensing that their own destinies hung in the balance. Finally, Boncorro said, "There may be some substance in what you say-be quiet, Rebozo! But I require more evidence than your opinion alone.

Matt's stomach thought about sinking. "What kind of evidence did your Majesty have in mind?"

"Some sign of your intentions," Boncorro said, "some sign of the validity of your ideas. I will give you a challenge, Lord Wizard-to answer two specific questions that Rebozo has been unable to answer to my satisfaction."

339 "What questions are those?" the

chancellor cried.

The king held up his index finger. "One: who killed my father, and why?" He raised his middle finger beside it. "And two: who killed my grandfather-and why? " "But I have answered both!" the chancellor cried. "It was the groom Accerese who slew your father! And it was the bandits who killed your grandfather!"

Boncorro seemed not to hear him, only gazed at Matt.

"Of course," Matt said slowly, "I would have to find you the answers to both questions in such a fashion that you were satisfied that I had found the truth."

"You would."

"Don't bite," Saul said beside him. "He's dealing from a stacked deck. " "Yes, but I've got an ace up my sleeve." Matt took a deep breath and said, "Very well, your Majesty. I accept your challenge."

"No!" Rebozo cried, and Boncorro snapped, "Be still, Rebozo! If there is no validity to what he says, he will fail. How long will you need to find your answer, Lord Wizard?"

"About half an hour." Matt pushed back his sleeves.

"Starting right now." He held out his hands, fingers spread to look impressive, and chanted,

"When we are frozen up within, and quite The phantom of ourselves, To hear the world applaud the hollow ghost Which blames the living man."

He took a deep breath, then went from Arnold to original,

"What goes around, comes around-all debts get paid, if not in cold cash, then in shame and in pain.

A life for a life, and a save for a saviorSpiro, arise! Come payback your favor!"

"You need not compel," said a sepulchral voice, "I was more than willing to aid you; you had only to ask."

There he was, floating in midair, twice as large as lifeSpiro the ghost, barely visible in the dim light of the throne room. The courtiers drew back with cries of horror. On the dais, Rebozo stared, trembling; his moan turned to a very soft keening.

Matt breathed a sigh of relief. "Sorry, oldster. I didn't know what kind of morass you were going to have to wade through to get here."

"Well, there was a net of spells that needed parting," Spiro admitted. "What would you have me do, Lord Wizard? Oh, yes, I know who you really are, now! Even in Purgatory the dead know far more than they did in life!"

Someone moaned in the crowd, and several others took it up.

"Thanks, friend," Matt said, aware of the effect.

"Ghost!" There was urgency in King Boncorro's voice. "How is it you are in Purgatory, but not in fire?"

The ghost turned slowly to regard the king with hollow eyes.

"I owe you no answers."

"Then do it for charity, I beseech you! I have great need of spiritual answers! Tell me, I pray!"

"Nooo," Rebozo moaned. "No, no, no.

"Well, I shall," Spiro said, relenting. "An act of charity will aid me greatly now. Know, King, that I was not wicked enough to need the worst of tortures to cleanse my soul enough for Heaven. I dwell in a desert, baking under the heat of a blazing sun by day, and freezing at night. I do not complain; I deserved far worse."

"Thank you," Boncorro whispered, wide-eyed.

"You are welcome." The ghost turned back to Matt. "What do you require, Wizard?"

"I need to speak to two ghosts," Matt said. "One of them is probably in Hell, or, just possibly, Purgatory. The other is probably in Heaven; we think he was a martyr."

"I cannot make my voice reach to Heaven," said the ghost, "but I shall seek throughout Purgatory, and can call down to Hell. What is the name of the depraved soul?"

Matt took a deep breath. "King Maledicto of Latruria!

The courtiers gasped. Rebozo's keening tapered off into shocked silence.

But Spiro gave Matt a hard smile. "He is in Purgatory; I have seen him in its most abysmal depths. I shall summon him for you." Matt realized that King Maledicto had been older than he had thought-a lot older.

"You do not summon a king!" Boncorro cried.

"Worldly rank means nothing here," the ghost retorted, "only the goodness of the soul. Maledicto, come!"

And the king's ghost was there, smaller than Spiro's, no longer malevolent, face contorted in agony. "What would you have of me, squire?" he gasped.

"A debt to the living, and to Heaven, King-that-was!" Spiro turned to Matt. "Ask!"

"Who killed you?" Matt demanded, the hairs standing up on the back of his neck. "Who killed you, and why?"

"Why? Because I repented and sought to confess!" Maledicto's tortured eyes lit with triumph. "And through the brave defense of two knights who held off my slayer, I succeeded! They are not here; I think they have gone to Heaven, with the monk who shrived me!" "But how is this?" King Boncorro cried. "You, who slew and tortured so many! You, who caused so much agony through your devotion to Evil!

How could you have come to repent?"

"Who speaks?" The king's ghost turned. "Ah! My grandson, alivc after all! I rejoice to see you living and well! Take care of your soul! Do not follow me!"

"I will not!" Boncorro assured him, seeming to regain strength by that renunciation. "Why did you repent? " "My son's death cut the heart out of me," the ghost answered, Hand your disappearance took what little spirit remained, for I saw there would be nothing left to show I had ever lived. Indeed, if I had known you lived, I might have rallied and reformed, for you were hope for the future-but without you, tomorrow was already in ashes. There was, of a sudden, no purpose in my life, for even pleasure had palled.