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15
The Prince

Reaction set in. He was no hardened warrior. What he had witnessed shocked him more deeply than it would have a native civilian used to horrors long banished from Earth. Nor had he simply watched. He had run a high risk of being killed or maimed. He had pitted his will repeatedly against that of strong and ruthless veterans.

For a week, he spent his time in a dull daze or choking awake out of nightmares. Dzenko opined that it would be unwise, as well as bad for the patient, did the Prince arrive at the capital city in this condition. Yet it was important to ride the crest of success, take possession of the throne, reorganize the royal household, get started on a restoration of order and commerce throughout the realm. The baron proposed to lead the regular navy off and see to that. Charlie would remain behind until he recovered for a triumphal entry.

No one objected. The fleet steered for Bolgorka. It included those ships, with officers and crews, which had been Olaghi's. Medieval types of aristocrats had elastic loyalties. None of them accompanied the fallen usurper into exile. On this account, too, it was vital to nail down the victory, before any warlord might grab power for himself.

Volunteers dispersed to their widely strewn homes. They bore the news: that the liberating Prince had come into his own at the Battle of Stalgesh and now remained awhile on that island in order to meditate how best he might improve life for his people.

Only Hector stayed with him. Dzenko had pointed out that he, the baron, would need every able-bodied man he could bring along, as much to prevent trouble from starting as to quell it should it arise. The injured should be carried straight back to Glats. But Charlie would need a less hectic atmosphere than that of the court. The villagers would provide as many guards and as much service as he could possibly require.

Indeed they did. Their hospitality was humble, but what they lacked in facilities they more than made up in devotion.

So during that week, Charlie got well. Sunshine, fresh air, plain food, ample rest; later swimming, boating, fishing, hiking; the company of people who loved him, at first anxiously tender, afterward cheerful, chatty, eager to swap songs and stories—these things healed him.

He did feel as though there had been some basic changes in him. No longer was he unduly shy, and he didn't think he would ever again prefer daydreams to real-world action. At the same time he had grown more thoughtful, more aware of the troubles which haunt the universe but less ready to find simple causes or instant cures for them.

It was in this mood that he wrote a long letter to his father, after he learned that the spaceship still waited on Shverkadi Island. A miniradio wouldn't reach that far. Besides, Dzenko hadn't left him any of those captured from Olaghi—an oversight, no doubt. Charlie resigned himself to sputtering along with a quill pen and fish-gland ink on sheets of flexible bark.

He told the tale of his adventures, pointing out that on the whole he had never got a chance to turn back from them. Yet now, he declared, he must act of his own free will. No longer was he in danger. The same local skipper who delivered this message would gladly have taken him and Hector in person. But he must go to Bolgorka. If the Prince did not make an appearance in the capital of Talyina, doubts were sure to spread; ambitious barons would conspire; a full-fledged civil war might well ensue, instead of a single decisive clash such as they had mercifully gotten by with. Dzenko was obviously right. Between them the two could work out a formula which would enable Charlie to go home without disrupting the kingdom.

He begged everybody's pardon for this. He knew it might not be legal, but he also knew it was moral. And . . . the presence of outsiders would be disastrous.

The Talyinans had always found it difficult to believe that the mighty Interbeing League really did not plan to conquer them. Their trust in its good intentions was often fragile. Did a band of spacemen accompany Charlie to Bolgorka, many natives would jump to the conclusion that the Prince was a stalking-horse for human imperialism. The new government would collapse in a storm of rebellions and secessions. Whatever leaders arose afterward would tend to shun the Plenipotentiary and reject his advice.

"Please, please, Dad," Charlie wrote, "sit tight, and get Mr. Pomfrey to do the same. I won't be gone more than another month or so. Why don't you continue your route? I can use royal funds when I'm finished here, to buy passage to a planet where we can meet. Meanwhile, I'm perfectly safe, I swear I am."

He left for Bolgorka the day before his courier raised sail for Shverkadi. He would not directly disobey his father. Therefore, he wasn't about to chance getting an order to come straight back.

After all, he knew wryly, from now on he expected to enjoy himself.

 

Like Glats, the royal town stood at the end of a bay which formed a superb natural harbor. It too was built on hills. The island whose name it bore was still more rugged than Lyovka. To the west and south rolled a great river valley, intensively cultivated, but mountains walled those horizons, haloed with snow and jeweled with glaciers Northward, the highlands thrust a tongue out to sea in the form of a long and steeply ridged cape. Too rough for farming, it was forested almost to the outer bastions of the city. A good road did go across the neck of it.

Several boats escorted the one which bore Charlie to his throne. Pennons and streamers adorned their rigging. The swiftest vessel went ahead to tell the people. Thus a mighty crowd greeted the Prince. Troopers lined the streets, holding back throngs whose cheers echoed off heaven, or slammed their thousands of boots down on paving behind his horse-drawn carriage in the parade which conducted, him to the palace. Their mail and helmets shone like new-minted silver; plumes and cloaks blew about them, as colorful as the banners beneath which their pikes gleamed and rippled; drums boomed, horns winded, deep voices chanted aloud the Prophecy. He wore brilliant fabrics and rich furs; he carried in his hands, naked, the sword which had been the Founder's; his head stayed bare, that the red locks might blow free. Beside him stood Hector, bowing right and left, waving, beaming, blowing kisses. The Hoka had been given a sack of coins to toss to the populace but did not think that became a thrifty Scot.

In glory they reached the stark stone pile of the kingly dwelling. Almost at once, Dzenko got the Earthling off in private for a business discussion.

 

It was curiously like their first encounter. They were alone in a guarded tower room, so high that they saw through the narrow windows only sky and wings. The chill of masonry was not much relieved by woven tapestries and skin rugs. The furniture was massive and grotesquely carved. Dzenko sat cool-eyed. Charlie perched on the edge of his chair and, bit by bit, felt sweat prickle forth on his skin.

"Yes, I have matters in hand," the baron said. "We must see to it that they remain thus. It will take quick and precise action to get you back where you belong, uncrowned, without provoking upheavals. I'll need your unquestioning cooperation."

"Uncrowned?" replied Charlie. "Why that?"

Dzenko twitched his whiskers. "Have you forgotten? The fifth Feat is left for you to do. It happens to be impossible. It's equally impossible, politically, to hold your coronation until you have done the deed. And, since the Grotto of Kroshch is quite near town, you would perform before many witnesses. There is no way to, ah, make prior arrangements."

"Well, what do you have in mind then?"

"That you stay here for, hm, about a twelve-day. You will move around, inspect your capital and its hinterland, meet people, attend ceremonies—a more extensive and elaborate version of what you did in Glats. Hence no one will afterward be able to deny, that you were indeed present, victorious. Mostly you'll be seen in my company, and will show me, every mark of favor. I'll give you a schedule for the honors you heap on me.

"Meanwhile, we'll start a new story going. I have some reliable priests, minstrels, and the like, ready to help as soon as they get their instructions. Probably you can give me a few ideas, though I've already decided in a general way. Essentially, the tale will be that while the Prophecy is true, it is not complete. Before he can settle down to reign over Talyina, the Prince must still overcome certain other difficulties—abroad—especially among the starfarers in whose image he has been incarnated. He must go suppress warlords of theirs who plot to overrun us. This will take time, but at last he'll return successful. Then will be the proper moment for him to enter the Grotto, and come out alive, and assume his throne here.

"In his absence, he will naturally require a regent. Who but his well-beloved Dzenko? And should Dzenko not outlive the years during which the Prince is away striving for the people, why, the heirs of Dzenko will succeed him. After all, since the Prince is to reign forever, it's reasonable that he may need a few centuries yet to complete his labors."

The baron smiled and bridged his fingers "There," he finished. "A most excellent scheme."'

 

Despite Bolgorka's being the largest and wealthiest city in Talyina, Charlie found many sections antiquated as he toured it. The Sword Way, up which he had been paraded, was broad and straight, but most streets were crooked and stinking lanes creeping between overhanging walls. One reason for this was that earlier kings had had much reconstructed in expensive stone or brick. Consequently, it had not suffered the fires which, every generation or two, made most towns start fresh. It was frozen into a primitive pattern. Well-to-do homes, warehouses, marts were like fortresses here and there in the middle of slums whose wretchedness appalled Charlie. He thought of doing something to help the poor—then remembered that he wouldn't be around and Dzenko was not especially interested in reform.

Nobody showed Charlie bad conditions on purpose, or tried to hide them. They were incidental, taken for granted. One simply had to shout or flick a whip to get the filthy commoners out of the way while one was guiding the Prince from historic monument to quaint shop to stately mansion, then back to the palace in time for a major speech, a formal banquet, and picturesque traditional entertainment. If from time to time he stopped and tried blunderingly to talk with some work-broken navvy, crippled beggar, or gaunt woman carrying an infant, why, that was just his whim. Let him pass out a few coins if he wished and get him moving again.

Besides Hector, a hundred crack guardsmen were always with him in public. He recognized none of them and learned they were mercenaries who had formerly served Olaghi. "Where're my travel friends?" he demanded of Dzenko. "Where's Mishka?"

"I have to send my most reliable men out to handle special problems," the noble answered. " `For instance, if a baron fell at Stalgesh, we must make sure the right successor takes over his province. Mustn't we?"

The sergeant of Charlie's troop was not very communicative. He would reply to direct questions, of course. Thus, while inspecting the fleet, the human saw a number of sailors tied wrist and ankle in the shrouds of ships, under, a scorching sun. He asked why. The sergeant told him casually, "Oh, mutineers being punished."

"Not mutineers, Highness," said the captain of the vessel on which they stood. "Such we'd flog to death. These conspired to petition for discharge. That only rates spread-eagling for one full day."

"What?" Charlie exclaimed. "They can't even petition?"

The captain was honestly surprised. "Highness, how could we let impressed men do that? It'd imply they had some kind of right to go home before it suits the king's convenience."

"You're still keeping them, this long after the battle?"

Charlie contained his anger. But that night, in English, he told Hector he meant to take the matter up with Dzenko, force the baron to release his quasi-slaves.

"Maybe ye can," the Hoka said doubtfully. "Yet is it no a waste of effort, when soon ye'll gang awa'? Dzenko wad simply haul them back after ye're gane or catch himsel' ithers."

"Why does he need that big a force, anyway?"

"A vurra eenteresting question. What say ye I poke aboot on my ain? I'm nobbut your funny wee companion; nae guardsmen wull clank alang behind me; and I've found the Talyinans wull talk wi' me richt freely, once they're used to the sight and pairhaps a drappie or twa hae wetted their craws."

"All right." Charlie sighed. "I'm not sure what good it'll do—and I'll miss you in that hustle—bustle and dull ritual I'm stuck with—and lordy, lordy, how glad I will be to get through here!"

 

Hector did join him on an excursion to the Grotto of Kroshch. For this was a famous local wonder, its general area a picnic site for the aristocracy and bourgeoisie of Bolgorka. Dzenko himself wanted Charlie to visit there. Such a trip would lend credibility to his eventual announcement that the Grotto could wait until the Prince had disposed of what serious threats remained to the well-being of Talyina.

The Hoka was unwontedly silent, even glum. Charlie wondered why but didn't press the issue. After six days of officialism, it was too delightful to be out in the country again.

His yachi bounded along a winding, climbing road whose dirt lay vivid red under fragrant green of woods on either side, blue of sky and flash of gold off wings overhead. He had got used to riding native style, and his muscles fitted themselves happily into its thudding rhythm. Ahead of him, a section of guards made a brave sight in their armor and cloaks.

Behind him came the rest, along with scores of curious civilians.

The trip across the cape took a pair of hours. From the crest Charlie saw a narrow fjord, mercury-bright against the darkling cliffs of its farther side. Toward this the road descended, until it reached a cleared spot above the very end of the inlet. There stood tables, benches, fireplaces, and other amenities. Cooks had gone ahead to prepare a barbecue for the Prince. By now he had made his tastes known. Their simplicity was widely admired. With only salt for a condiment, the meat which he got was delicious. His wellborn seatmates were affable, flattering, proud to dine in his company.

After lunch, the party climbed down a trail carved out of the precipices to the water. Their outing had been carefully timed. The tide was low. Waves lapped quietly on rocks which formed a strip of beach. At its end, a mouth gaped black in a sheer granite wall.

"The Grotto of Kroshch, Highness," said the foremost of the magnates present. "The end of your destiny. No, the beginning of it." Awe freighted his tones.

Charlie knew what awaited him. He approached boldly. Yet he too felt a certain inner dread. The dimness down here, hemmed between dizzying heights; the opening before him, darker still, from which chilliness billowed forth; the mark of the sea, meters above its top—

He stepped through. Beyond was a passage, twice a man's height. For a while, light seeped in from outside, and he stumbled along on water-slick loose cobbles. Thereafter the murk deepened until he had to wait for flint and steel to kindle the lanterns his attendants carried. Shadows and glimmers ran eerily over the stone which enclosed him. He breathed damp cold. Afar he heard the ocean growl, through his ears and footsoles and bones.

The passage suddenly gave on the Grotto itself.

This was a roughly hemispherical chamber, perhaps the remnant of a volcanic bubble, about twenty meters in width and up to the ceiling, seamed with crevices, ledges, and lesser holes. The lantern bearers climbed along these until their firefly-bobbing burdens gave wan illumination to the entire cavity. He stared toward the roof. Blacknesses betokened hollows in it. But none, he knew, reached as far aloft as did the high-water mark he had seen outside.

Dzenko had explained beforehand. This fjord formed what on Earth was called a roost. It forced incoming tides to abnormal rapidity and power. Twice a day a wall of sea roared through, smashed against the cliffs, and wholly drowned the Grotto.

"Had you gills, you might wait in there and come out alive, as the Prophecy says," the baron sneered. "But you haven't. Nor have you along such diving gear as I'm told your people possess. In any event, the witnesses would never accept your going in with a load of equipment. If I remember aright, you're allowed a horpil, nothing else. No, I fear this is one test where I cannot help you. Luckily, you don't want the crown of Talyina."

As he stood in the sounding gloom, fingers plucked his sleeve and a nervous voice said, "Best we go, Highness. The tide will soon turn. Hear you not an awakened hunger in the noise of the waves?"

 

Back on top, the party waited to view the tidal bore. Charlie and Hector wandered a little distance aside. They stood near a verge amid blowing grasses, and gazed across the sky and down to the now-uneasy waters. Wind whittered; seafowl shrilled.

"I've found what's become o' Mishka, laddie," the Hoka said in English. "I wadna hae heart tae tell ye, save that a rough, tough Hieland clansman doesna ken hoo tae keep a secret frae his chief."

Alarm knocked in Charlie. "What is it? Quick!"

"He's a slave in the inland quarries. They say such canna hope tae live lang."

"What? But—but—why—"

"I learned this last nicht, in a low dockside dive whaur I've won the confidence o' the innkeeper. Ye see, I've sought tae make clear that everything done in your name isna necessarily done wi' your knowledge. But I canna say this tae the nobles or the well-off or even the small burghers, for then word might well get back to Dzenko. I've therefore gane amang the vurra puir, who hae naught to lose nor aught to gain by blabbering to him. For they're no a' slum-bred, lad; mony and mony o' them waur freeholders or boat owners, till Olaghi's greed uprooted them. They nourish a hope the Prince'll mak' it richt for them again, and they ken me for your friend.

"Yon landlord's hiding Kartaz in his cellar. Ye'll reca' Kartaz, o' Mishka's men, he who fought bonnily at Stalgesh. He waur wi' those who stood behind Mishka when the sergeant went before Dzenko tae protest, no alane the continued impressment o' seamen, but the new taxes."

"New taxes?" Charlie said. "I didn't know—whatever for?"

"Och, ye'll no hae heard, syne they're levied on little folk, crofters and foresters wha' dwell far frae towns. 'Tis clear, though, I think, that if Dzenko ha' a'ready begun wi' them, ithers may look for the same or fiercer erelang. Anyhoo, he dootless expected this deputation, for he had it meet him alane and unarmed. But then his new guards burst in at the ring o' a bell and arrested Mishka and the rest at crossbow point. The preesoners waur hustled off to the quarries that selfsame nicht. Next day their comrades waur fed a cock-and-bull story like the ane ye got, laddie, aboot special assignments in the ootlands, and syne, they're scattered far and wide on errands which hae no purpose save to scatter them. This I hae established frae ither reliable soorces.

"Kartaz got a chance tae escape and tuk it. His last sight o' Mishka was of our auld fere in chains, breaking rock, wi' a lash to hurry him alang. So Kartaz tauld me, and I've aye found him truthful."

Sickened, Charlie stared down into the gorge. The rising waters snarled at him.

"I'll collar Dzenko tonight," he whispered. "I won't have this. I won't. I'll denounce him in public—"

For now he knew what the baron intended: the identical thing Olaghi had tried to build, "an up-to-date absolute monarchy." That was why the navy must be maintained at full strength. Talyina had exchanged one dictator for another. And indeed it was worse off, because Dzenko was more intelligent, more efficient. And he ruled through Charles Edward Stuart, the Prince of the Prophecy!

Hector gripped the human's elbow. "Nay, laddie," said the Hoka. "Ye'd nobbut fling your ain life awa'. Surely yon scoundrel ha' made proveesion again' such an emairgency. Belike he'd stab ye the moment ye spake, then denoonce ye for an impostor and hope to ride oot the storm what wad follow. He might well succeed, too. Dinna forget, ye still lack the final proof o' wha ye are. Besides, when ye waur supposed to rule Talyina forever, your slaying wad in itself discredit ye.

"Nay, laddie," he repeated sadly, and shook his round head. "Ye canna but deepen the woes o' the realm, an' alienate Dzenko frae the League, which otherwise might pairhaps meetigate his harshness a wee bit, and yoursel' perish, when yonder lies a univairse for your exploring. Come hame wi' me! Hoo could I e'er face your parents or mysel', did I no bring ye back?"

"But how can I ever face myself again," Charlie shouted, "if—"

The sea drowned his words. Rising and rising, the tide crashed into the fjord, violence which trembled in the rocks beneath him. It marched like destiny, against which nothing may stand.

Nothing?

Charlie came out of dazzlement to see the many eyes upon him, made fearful by the trouble they saw in him. He dared not stop to think further, for he knew that then he would grow afraid. High above the noise of the bore, he yelled, "Hear me! Tomorrow I go into the Grotto as the Prophecy tells! And I'll come forth again—alive—to claim my crown!"

 

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Framed


Title: Hokas Pokas
Author: Poul Anderson & Gordon R. Dickson
ISBN: 0-671-57858-8
Copyright: © 1983 by Poul Anderson & Gordon R. Dickson
Publisher: Baen Books