The Hero King (5 page)

A deep fear seized me at some point late in the vigil, near dawn. It was as real and vital as anyone I had ever crossed swords with. It was almost a physical presence strangling my mind. Very soon, in an hour or less, I would be formally both King and Hero of Varay, the man who the legends said would bring that new Golden Age to the kingdom, to the entire buffer zone. But the fear came when I suddenly saw an alternative interpretation to the legend about the reunion of the two offices. One man, Vara, had been both King and Hero at the founding of Varay. Now, the first time the titles were reunited, Varay—and everything else—was likely to end.

Not a First Golden Age and a Second Golden Age, but a beginning and an end
.

I sat frozen in terror until dawn. The fear grew. Once Baron Kardeen touched the sword of state (allegedly the Sword of Vara) to both of my rings to formally invest me with the kingdom, it might all end instantly
… all of creation
.

    Dawn.

The procession.

Baron Kardeen led the way, carrying the Sword of Vara on a black silk pillow. The black wasn’t for mourning. The sword was always paraded about on black silk. Four bearers—not the same men as before—carried the dead king. I followed immediately behind them, with Joy only a half-step behind me. Mother and Parthet were next, then Duke Dieth and the other peers of Varay, Aaron and my people, and finally the rest of the mourners.

It was a slow march, not quite in hesitation step, from the shrine down to the catacombs. We walked what might be the ultimate last mile.

Grandfather, was I wrong? Should I have bound you to us awhile longer?

If I had made a mistake, it might prove to be the last mistake anyone ever made. My mind raced, looking for alternatives, and I had to reject them all, even the most obvious. I couldn’t simply refuse the rite of succession. Although the formality had not yet been observed, I had been king in fact from the minute of Grandfather’s death, as Baron Kardeen had told me earlier, and as the obeisance of the barons had confirmed. If the reunion of titles was the catalyst for Doomsday, it was already working.

But we had not all died with Pregel.

So there was still time … but how much?

    The headless body of the elf had been removed from the crypt—temporarily, no doubt—so that he would not be a distraction during this ceremony.

King Pregel’s catafalque was positioned before his niche at the kings’ end of the burial wall. That wall was getting crowded. Vara was in the center. At least, there was a capstone with his name and dates on it. Kings were to his left, Heroes to his right, with many more Heroes than kings. Heroes rarely lasted long. They were sought only when there was dire need for heroic efforts, and that kind of work had a high casualty rate.

Everyone got positioned in the room. Kardeen and I were right up next to the head of the catafalque. Parthet, Mother, and Joy were close. Dieth and the barons were behind them, and then all the rest of the mourners.

Baron Kardeen spoke of Pregel’s life, his battles, his peaceful accomplishments, his wives and children, his love for the people of Varay, their love for him. Kardeen removed the jeweled chain from Pregel’s neck then and hung it around mine.

Parthet intoned a genealogy that started with Vara and proceeded straight down the line of kings to Pregel … and then on to me.

Kardeen picked up the sword of state and stood in front of me. I extended my
trembling
hands palms down. Kardeen touched the top of my head and both of my shoulders with the blade while Parthet chanted some magic formula. Finally, Kardeen laid the sword across my hands so the blade touched both rings, the eagle and the signet, simultaneously. I scarcely felt the electric jolt and the influx of regal magic that the contact brought.

“The king is dead, long live the king.”

Parthet whispered the formula, but everyone in the crypt,
everyone in the kingdom
, heard him speak.

I didn’t cry until later, with just Joy to witness my tears.

    I stayed in the crypt for a few minutes after the rest of the mourners left. I kept only Kardeen with me. My great-grandfather had been slid into his final resting place. A purple cloth had been draped across the opening, to await the fitting of a marble capstone later in the day.

Kardeen kept his eyes on mine while we waited for the last of the others to start up the stairs. Their echoes were a jumble of noise. Baron Kardeen remained silent, waiting.

“Just a question before we go on up for the rest of the formalities,” I said when the echoes started to fade. Kardeen nodded politely.

“Supposing that there is anyone left to do the honors when the time comes, where will you put me?” I asked. “Both king and Hero. I don’t suppose you’ll cut me in half and divide me between the two ends.”

“I trust you’ll be around long after
my
days are done, Your Majesty,” Kardeen said after a moment. “But your spot will be there.” He pointed to the other long wall, to a spot in the center, precisely across from Vara.

It was my turn to nod. “I think I guessed that, way back when I first learned of the plan my parents had for me. But …” I paused, and then explained the fear that had come over me during the vigil. “Judging from the events of the last few months, that seems more likely than a second Golden Age.”

Kardeen hesitated a long time before he answered. “Not all legends can be believed,” he said. “We can only do what each day demands of us.” He kept his voice steady, but I saw the shadow of fear that drifted past his eyes, and that was extraordinary in itself. The chamberlain always kept a tight veil over his emotions.

“I guess we should get upstairs before people start thinking that something else has happened,” I said, and I started for the door. Before we left the room, I looked back along the tiers of marble headstones along the burial wall, and at the empty wall opposite it.

    When we got up to the great hall, people were milling around the tables, everyone standing, waiting for me to arrive. Breakfast was being carried in from the kitchens. Joy came to me and we walked to the center of the head table together. For the first time that I could recall, the head table on the dais was completely filled. Duke Dieth, the man who had been my father’s first squire and who had “held” Dorthin for me since that kingdom came to me after the death of the last Etevar, and all of the barons rated positions at the head table. We were more crowded than usual.

Eating took priority for its usual length of time. It was a quiet meal. Then there was one more bit of ceremony to go through before I could get away from all the people and find some time alone. That was in the throne room, after a side trip to Baron Kardeen’s office to give everyone else time to get to the throne room and in place first—so
the king
could make a proper entrance.

“I hope this stage-managing isn’t going to be a regular thing,” I told Kardeen while we were waiting.

“However you want it,” Kardeen said. “Your great-grandfather never stood much on ceremony, so …” He shrugged and smiled thinly.

“And we have so many real problems to worry about,” I reminded him.

He didn’t have a smile this time. “Questions but no answers.”

“And maybe very little time to find the answers,” I mumbled, the last of that around a yawn. “Sorry. When we get through this morning, I’m going to have to get some real rest. Then Aaron and I have to contact the Elflord of Xayber.”

“About his son?”

“Only in passing, this time. Mostly, we’re hoping that the elflord might be able—and willing—to tell us what we have to do to keep all three realms from coming to an end.”

“I’ll make arrangements to have the royal apartments prepared for you and the queen,” Kardeen said, changing subjects. It was the first time I had heard Joy referred to as “the queen.” I held up my hand for a moment, to give myself a chance to roll it around in my head, before I said what I had to say.

“Don’t do anything in Grandfather’s apartments yet. Leave them just the way they are. I’ll want to look them over first.” I paused, then added, “I may have some suggestions, or Joy might.”

“As you wish, Majesty.”

“And,
please
, can we dispense with as much of the formality as possible—at least when we’re alone?” I had enough trouble keeping my head on straight with all the Hero jazz.

Kardeen just nodded his acceptance. “There is a traditional greeting to the barons on accession,” he said after a pause to mark another change of subject. He had a copy of the greeting handy, of course. He gave me a small sheet of parchment. I read through it quickly—political-sounding stuff about doing my job and looking for the help of Vara and more of that kind of formula.

“It is also traditional to add a few words of your own at the end, words about what faces us and what your hopes are,” Kardeen said. “Perhaps it might be better to say little now?”

“Better, perhaps, but I don’t think we can get away with it,” I said. “Everybody knows that things are in rotten shape. If I don’t say anything at all, the rumors will get completely out of hand.”

Kardeen considered that for a moment. “I expect you’re right,” he said, biting off the “Majesty” at the last instant. He glanced at the door of his office. “They should have had time to get there now.”

Mother and Joy met us on the way to the throne room. Parthet and Aaron were standing outside the door. The two wizards went in first. Then Kardeen escorted Mother in and announced, “The King and Queen of Varay.”

Joy and I went in.

The throne room was crowded with standing people, family, Aaron, Duke Dieth, and the barons up front, the rest wherever they had managed to squeeze in. The people hardly had room to bow when I made my entrance. I glanced at Joy and mouthed the word
help
at her, but she was just as caught up in the situation as I was—surprised, still in something of a state of shock. I had seen the startled look on her face at the way Kardeen announced us. I helped Joy step up onto the dais at the front of the room. There were no comfortable stairs. We got to the thrones. There was a second, slightly smaller, throne for Joy. I was sure that it had been Kardeen who thought of that touch. It was his efficient nature.

Somebody rapped on the floor with the end of a pike or something, and the bowing people straightened up as Joy and I took our seats—the only chairs in the room. The desk that had been in front of the throne when Pregel worked there was gone.

I had attended only one formal ceremony in the throne room before, back when Pregel announced that I was his heir designate, and there weren’t nearly as many people present then. I didn’t know what was expected of me that time, and I had only the roughest idea now. Without Baron Kardeen standing by, I would have had an even stronger feeling that I was about to make a complete fool of myself again.

Someday I’m going to drive a shrink off the deep end trying to sort through my brain, I thought.

The peers of Varay. I knew them all, to one degree or another. They knew me as Hero. From the expressions I saw on the faces in front of me though, some of them had doubts about me as king. Fair enough: I had doubts about me as king too.

Baron Kardeen knelt in front of the throne and recited an oath of homage. I returned words accepting his vow and confirming him in his title and so forth. Then he moved to the side and announced Duke Dieth and then each of the barons in order of seniority. We went through the same formula time and again. No matter what the intentions of those taking part, ceremonies tend to drag themselves out beyond all reason. That’s just as true in Varay as it is at Hollywood awards ceremonies.

After the last of the vows, I read the set piece Kardeen had given me and went on into my “State of the Kingdom” speech, making it up as I went along. It’s not something I would force on anyone. I told them what shape we were in. There was little new in that. The peers all had a fairly good idea. I didn’t gloss over the dangers, but I didn’t dwell on them either. I assured everyone that there was still real hope, that we had the tools to save the day as soon as we found out what to do with them, that we had some promising leads in that regard … and two wizards to help pursue this quest. Finally, I reminded everyone about the legends of a new Golden Age when someone like me came along who was rightfully both Hero and King.

I felt like a used-car salesman feeding them
that
line—since I didn’t believe it myself—but from the worried looks I had been seeing, I had to give them something. I felt even worse when I saw that almost everyone in the room was buying every word I said.

At least nobody led a round of three cheers for good King Gil.

4
The Door to Nowhere

Eventually, that ordeal ended. But my work wasn’t done. Resler was there after the ceremony, “begging” a few words. The Russian captain was being a most annoying guest. He had questions and demands. And so forth. The easy out for me would have been simply to tell Resler to do his best to keep our guests pacified for a couple of days, to tell him that Baron Kardeen was working on arrangements to care for the Russians until we could get them back to the other world. But taking the easy way out would hardly have looked proper on my coronation day. So I got Aaron and we made a quick trip back to Arrowroot with Resler. I talked to Captain Sekretov again. Among other things, I reminded him that none of his weapons functioned.

“We are still working on that,” he said.

“I wouldn’t dream of stopping you,” I told him. “But another thing for you to consider. Have you looked at the stars since you’ve been in our waters?” The look on his face was instructive. “The constellations aren’t even the same.”

“You said that you could arrange for us to get home,” Sekretov said, changing the subject quickly.

I nodded. “We’ll do that in a day or two. Things are in quite a state here just now.” I lowered my voice to add, “The king died last night.”

Sekretov seemed torn between an insincere expression of sympathy and some old cant about the decadence of royalty. He finally chose to avoid both.