Chimaera's Copper

  Kelvin stood back, eying them and his father speculatively. Kian was the happiest he had ever seen him, so how would he react to the news Heeto brought?

  “Lonny-- she's all right?” Kian wondered.

  “She's ... in health,” Heeto said.

  “But-- ?” Kian obviously sensed something.

  “She thought you were never coming back. She thought you didn't want her.”

  “I want her! Gods, I want her!”

  “She's marrying Jac.”

  Kian clutched his heart region. His face slackened. His mouth gaped. It was exactly as though he had received a sword thrust.

  Kelvin watched his brother settle down into the dust of the road, place his head in his hands, and shake. He wasn't crying, exactly, but his reactions were those of a man on the verge of dying. Kelvin knew he had to do something for his brother.

  “The wedding's today, Kian. At noon. We have time to get there. My gauntlets have been tingling; they know it's not too late.”

  Kian looked up, brightening. “Yes, yes! We must go! We must be there!”

  “Kian,” said their father, “Jac was good to us, and saved all our lives more than once. Hers too. If they want each other, you won't interfere?”

  “No, Father,” Kian said bravely. “No, of course not.”

  But Kelvin wondered. His brother, unlike himself, had been brought up and spoiled rotten by a ruthless and evil woman. Kelvin had seen far more of his father and himself in Kian than Zoanna and her evil father Zatanas, yet there was a heritage. When Kian was frustrated beyond sanity, would his mother's side come out? Would he pull his sword against Jac? That, Kelvin decided, must not happen.

  “The bride and groom won't arrive until the wedding,” Heeto said. “You can take time to clean up from your travels, and Queen Zanaan will get you better attire. I see, Kelvin, that you have lost your shirt.”

  “Zanaan, she's still queen?” John Knight asked.

  “Yes, still queen. The people all love her.”

  “The people have great sense.” John Knight spoke with conviction, as though this were a sentiment he had long needed to express.

  “What of Rowforth, her husband?” Kelvin asked.

  “Rowforth hasn't been found,” Heeto said. “He managed to get a knife into Sergeant Broughtmar, his former lackey. We found the sergeant dying on the roof. The king somehow got away, and hasn't been seen since.”

  “He's still alive, then?” This was bad news!

  “Until he's caught. Everyone wants him taken alive so he can be publicly executed.”

  “The poor queen,” Kelvin said.

  “No, no. Not poor queen at all,” Heeto protested. “She was a prisoner, a hostage to him. She suffered more than any of us. If she could have, she would have divorced him long ago.”

  “Yes, I suppose that's true.” Kelvin looked at his father's face and thought he saw something there that he did not entirely like. He remembered how evil Zoanna had bewitched him, using her magic to keep him enthralled so that she was able to have a child by him. Was it possible that there had been more to it than that? Perhaps a really good copy of Queen Zoanna without her evil ways was what his father really wanted, and certainly Zanaan was that. Certainly she was beautiful. But did he want his father with that woman? Childhood memories of seeing John so content with his own mother Charlain cried a loud if irrational protest.

  His father, for his part, had a look of positive eagerness on his face.

  *

  They were almost to the gates, the same gates that had once gone down to permit a charge of flopears on war-horses directed against the Freedom Fighters’ troops. Kelvin was recalling that war in all its hideousness and the glory of their triumph, as they approached.

  Suddenly a horseman wearing a worn uniform of the Freedom Fighters clattered around the corner. “They got him! They got the king!”

  “Alive? Alive?” someone shouted.

  “Alive! They found him hiding out near serpent territory! Just barely surviving! They're bringing him now!”

  Kelvin and his party waited. Kian and John, a bit more anxious to enter the palace than Kelvin was, were partway up the walk. Kelvin turned back to the street.

  Soon horsemen came trundling a cart. Looking out of a cage on the cart, ragged, dirty, sunken-eyed, big nose sunburned and peeled, was the figure of the king. What a relief to have captured him!

  But as the cart drew even with him, the face behind the bars spotted them, and the wretched creature called out: “Kelvin! John! Kian! Thank the gods!”

  Kelvin blinked. The supposed King Rowforth had filthy, round ears. But if this was not Rowforth-- if the ears were not the positive identification they seemed-- then it had to be good King Rufurt of his homeland!

  Unless the evil king was trying to fool him. Rowforth was capable of anything, to save his evil hide.

  “John, remember those days in the royal dungeon? You and I together-- remember?”

  The cart trundled past. The shouts of angry, enraged, and rejoicing people who had served under the Rowforth yoke followed and drowned out whatever else the prisoner was saying. The face looked back at them, pitifully, and Kelvin wondered. Could it be, was it possible that this was King Rufurt?

  He hurried to catch up. “Father, do you think-- ?”

  But his father was looking eagerly toward the palace. Kelvin wasn't sure that he had ever heard the prisoner. He wasn't quite certain he had heard correctly himself.

  Was it King Rufurt? Impossible, but also impossible to ignore. Rufurt was pointeared, and so could not use the transporter. But that reference to the dungeon-- had Rowforth known about that? How could he be sure?

  *

  Things moved so rapidly the rest of the morning that Kelvin hardly thought again about the man in the cage. All he could think about as they entered the great ballroom at noon was his brother and what his brother's reactions to immediate events might be. They had been briefed about how the bride and groom would enter by opposite doors, and how the queen herself would conduct a little ceremony. At the end of some ritualized questioning Jac was to slip the ring on Lonny's finger and the queen would pronounce them wed. Was it Kelvin's imagination, or did she sound a little sad when she explained about her part in it? Was he missing something?

  All three of them-- Kelvin, Kian, and John-- were there to witness but not to make their presence known to others until the ceremony's end. All were dressed in stiff, heavily laced clothing that Kelvin, for his part, would be only too happy to shed. Later they would get new traveling clothes, the queen had promised. She was solicitous and helpful in forming their plans. Kelvin had to hope that his father was not going to stay here and marry her, though he knew this was a bad attitude on his part. John's marriage to Kelvin's mother had been sundered long ago, and Hal Hackleberry was a good man. The past was over and done with.

  Someone was playing music. It sounded loud and had the effect of drowning thought. A beautiful woman sat at a piangan and stroked its red and yellow keys. The music changed as soon as everyone was in place, and from an oceanic swelling of sound it went to triumphant march. It was time for the bride and groom to enter by the opposite doors and stand before the queen.

  The facing doors opened. Kelvin immediately focused all his attention on his brother's face. Kian did not look angry or enraged, he looked sad, even heartbroken. It was pitiful to see anyone, especially a brother, in such condition.

  Lonny and Jac came forward until they met, joined hands, and turned to face the queen. Their audience had a side view of bride and groom while bride and groom were unable to see their unanticipated guests from another frame. No matter, as local custom decreed, bride and groom simply gazed each into the other's face.

  Jac, dressed up and clean, was handsome despite his scar, and older than Kelvin had realized, really of John's generation. He looked somehow grim rather than happy, though that was probably because of the gravity of the occasion. Kelvin remembered how he had suffered buttersects i
n the stomach when he married Heln, even though it was exactly what he wanted to do.

  Lonny was beautiful, with her hair garlanded with flowers and her bridal outfit enhancing a body that had at the worst of times been quite attractive. She too was unsmiling, perhaps maintaining her composure by sheer willpower, for she was normally a cheerful girl. Kelvin remembered that she had at one time used the gauntlets, and evidently gotten along with them well. The gauntlets served whoever wore them, but he liked to think that they liked some wearers better than others.

  “Lonny Burk,” the queen intoned, as serious as the two of them, “do you wish to marry Jac Smite, also known as Smoothy Jac, also known as Savior of our Land?”

  “I do,” Lonny murmured faintly.

  “And you, Jac Smite, also known as Smoothy Jac and Savior of our Land, do you wish to marry Lonny Burk?”

  Jac seemed to hesitate. His eyes darted in the direction of the properly attired roughnecks who had been with him in a skin-stealing operation and then a revolution. Possibly, though not certainly, he was having second thoughts. He looked at the queen as if appealing for some recourse, but found none.

  “I do,” Jac said at last, clearly and unmistakably.

  Kelvin's pity for his brother intensified. It seemed that the girl he loved really did mean to marry his friend. Had it been a mistake to keep quiet? Yet what kind of a situation would it have made, if Kian had dashed up and told her of his presence and his love just before she was to be married to another man?

  But the ceremony was not finished. The queen now addressed the guests, asking simply, “Is there anyone here who objects?”

  Kelvin looked at his brother, hoping he would speak. He had been afraid Kian would lose control, but now was sorry he hadn't. Lonny just didn't look that eager for the union. Neither, surprisingly, did Jac. Was it just a marriage of convenience? In that case--

  The queen turned back to the couple. “Since there are no objections, I therefore declare-- “

  The gauntlets gave Kelvin a sharp jolt. “Wait!” It was out of his mouth before he realized it.

  The queen seemed almost relieved for the distraction. “You? You object, Kelvin Knight Hackleberry. Why?”

  Kelvin hesitated. The gauntlets jolted him again. “My brother wants to wed her!” he blurted. He was conscious of a roomful of eyes orienting on him. “He's come back from his native frame for that purpose. We were delayed, we couldn't help it, but all the time he intended-- ” He stalled.

  There were murmurings and whispers and some outright exclamations. But it wasn't Kelvin's words that raised the most excitement, it was Lonny Burk's reactions.

  Lonny stared at them, focusing on Kian. Her normal rosy complexion turned white, and with one little cry of “Kian!” she sank to the floor, unconscious.

  Kelvin had to move fast to keep up with his brother. Already the former princeling was at his truelove's side. Kian knelt by her, taking her hand. “Lonny, Lonny, don't die!”

  Her eyes opened, blue and achingly beautiful. “Kian, Kian, I thought you gone forever! That girl in your own world . . . I-- I-- “

  “Hush, sweet Lonny,” Kian said. “She-- wasn't for me. You were. It just took me a while to get my mind straight. It will be all right.” Then he looked up to see Jac staring down at them. “That is-- “

  Jac's big hand came down and clasped Kian's shoulder so hard he winced. “Friend, Companion Closer Than Kin, Kian Who Made Me What I Am, if Lonny chooses you, I will not object.”

  Kelvin sighed relief. But in a moment Kian, who seemed to have been rocked by a fist, was saying, “No, no, my friend, I lost my head. Right is right. You deserve her.”

  “Why do you say that, old friend? We fought the serpents together. We fought the king's minions and warriors. We dared greatly and we won. You deserve everything, including Lonny. I should never have interfered!”

  “Well, actually-- ” Kelvin started, trying to alleviate the colossal awkwardness of the situation.

  “I felt I should marry her because it wasn't right to let her grieve any longer,” Jac said. “But now you have returned. That changes everything.”

  “But I left her for Lenore Barley. I-- “

  “Who,” Lonny asked with sudden strength, “is Lenore Barley?”

  “The girl in the other frame who looks like you,” Kian explained. “But there is more of a difference between you than just her pointed ears. She made love physically with different men, while you and I-- “

  “Shared a more intimate joining,” Lonny said.

  “Yes, yes, that's true, but-- “

  “But it didn't mean anything to you.”

  “No, no, that's not true! It meant everything!”

  “Did it, Kian?” Lonny's face had found its blood supply. Her eyes flared warningly.

  “Yes. Yes. And that is why, Lonny, you must marry Jac! He deserves you, while I do not.”

  “What he means, is-- ” Kelvin started, realizing that things had gotten completely turned around.

  “That's not true!” Jac insisted. “You deserve her while I do not! I have been with many women in a physical sense, while you-- “

  “Enough!” Lonny exclaimed. “I'm not the least bit interested in marrying either of you! You-- you philanderers!”

  Kian and Jac displayed openmouthed astonishment, then fell into each other's arms and shook uncontrollably. Lonny stared at them in near incomprehension, then rose to her feet, picked up the train of her wedding dress, and disdainfully swept past everyone to her door and out the way she had come.

  Kelvin looked at his father as the door closed behind the intended bride. John Knight shrugged, obviously as bewildered as Kelvin felt. Had those two jackasses learned their lessons?

  “Go after her, Kian, she's yours!”

  “No, no, my friend, you go after her!”

  “Pitiful, isn't it,” John Knight remarked. He was looking at the queen, and it was uncertain exactly what he meant.

  “It certainly is,” she said. “And after all my plans, all the flowers and festivities!” Yet, oddly, she did not seem completely displeased.

  The heartbreaking sounds of the prospective grooms’ sobbing filled the ballroom and drowned out the sympathetic murmurings of the guests turned spectators.

  CHAPTER 26

  Over

  I tell you, Father, it was him!” Kelvin insisted.

  “Nonsense,” John replied. “King Rufurt here? With his pointed ears? He couldn't even use the transporter! It's impossible for Rufurt to be here!”

  “Maybe his ears were changed, Dad. Or maybe Jon is right and the warning is just to keep pointed-ear persons in their place. Maybe he came some other way, not using the transporter. You did, the first time, and Kian did. Maybe it's dangerous and uncertain and painful, but the Flaw makes it possible. They're going to execute him, so I think we should see. I swear it sounded like Rufurt.”

  “With all that noise the crowd was making, you thought you heard words you didn't. That's happened to me a number of times. Or maybe Rufurt's using magic.”

  “Maybe somebody's using magic! Bad magic! Dad, we owe it to Rud's king. We haven't been back there since this business started; something might have happened. If Rufurt somehow got sent here-- “

  John Knight frowned in a way that meant he was considering. Obviously he had something of a different nature on his mind. “I suppose I can stand one more trip to a dungeon. I hate them, though.”

  “Just to make certain, Dad. That's all. It would be a terrible thing if that really was King Rufurt and we let him be killed in Rowforth's place.”

  “Terrible, but unlikely. All right, we'll go get permission from the queen.”

  How glad he sounded, saying that. But Kelvin doubted that his father's joy was at the prospect of seeing their king.

  *

  In her throne room Zanaan looked every bit the queen, John thought admiringly. Her very beauty and regality made him a bit tongue-tied. But in due course, trying unsuccessfully to ign
ore the fact that he had once made love to a body almost exactly like hers, he got out the story.

  “And you say this Rufurt of your homeland is a good man?” Zanaan asked. Obviously it was his story and not him she was most interested in. That could, of course, change. She did not know how intimately he had been involved with her evil look-alike.

  “As good as Rowforth is bad!” Kelvin said. He had been standing silently all the time his father talked.

  That annoyed John, and he wondered why it should. What was wrong with the hero of the prophecy taking the initiative? Was it because Zanaan so enchanted him?

  He pondered, and realized that the aspect of Zoanna, without the evil, really did not fascinate him in the same manner. There had been magic and a cutting edge to Zoanna that compelled him; both were lacking in Zanaan. Unfortunately that made her like bleer without the hops: not of great interest for long. He was surprised to discover this, but had to recognize its truth.

  “Then we certainly must leave no doubt in any of our minds,” the queen said. “My husband deserves execution while his look-alike deserves only the best.”

  She did not believe them, John realized. He couldn't blame her. He himself had thought Kelvin mistaken, but where kings and execution were concerned, there was slight margin for error.

  They followed the queen outside the palace and around the palace wall to the dreadfully familiar stairs. It smelled no better than when he and Kian had been prisoners here. Again he remembered far too vividly Sergeant Broughtmar putting the tiny wriggling serpent into that unfortunate revolutionary's ear. What horror!

  “You're shuddering, Dad!” Kelvin said. He had not been a prisoner here, so could not understand exactly how terrible it had been.

  “Memories, Son, memories.” Was there really anything that could be worse? Even the onset of an illness had never hit him this hard.

  “I can go down and check, Father. Just so we find out who's here.”

  “No, I won't shirk my duty. If it is King Rufurt, I'll know him. We became as close as brothers in our imprisonment in Rud. Thank the gods Zoanna kept a more decent dungeon!”