THE FROG AND THE GROG
by
Christopher Stasheff
Copyright 2011
Duke Saler reined in his horse under the huge oak tree a hundred feet down the forest path, facing the other rider who wore his field crown and the purple cloak of a king. "All right, Viburnum—your man told me to meet you, and I'm here alone, as you asked."
"And I appreciate it." Viburnum didn't mention the dozen knights around them, hidden in the underbrush. "Don't forget I'm your king."
"Edmund is king again, and if I wish to keep my title and estates, I must kneel to him. I'm risking enough simply by talking to you."
"You're risking a lot more if you don't," Viburnum said. "You were quick enough to promise to deliver five thousand pikes from your armory smiths, and to take the royal gold that paid for them. You really think Edmund's tame wizard can overlook that?"
"That, he might," Saler said. "Only my patriotic duty, after all. But consorting with the usurper? For that, I'll be hanged—then drawn and quartered too."
"Either way, they'll know they can't trust you," Viburnum pointed out. "But I know I can—because you have too much to lose if Edmund's on the throne. You might keep your castle and lands, but that's all. What will happen the next time there's a bad harvest, milord? You'll eat like any of your peasants, and dress like them, too. You can't count on the gold I paid you for those pikes—Edmund and his tame wizards will probably make you give it back."
That struck home; he could see it in the lord's face and his sudden thoughtful silence.
"You'll do a lot better with me on the throne, my lord," Viburnum said. "I'm on your side."
* * *
The soldiers marched Aelwyn toward the throne room, but Aelwyn shook them off with a snarl. "Let's see what this friend of mine has to say that made him arrest me!"
The soldiers shouted in anger and alarm, and the two sentries at the great oaken door swung their halberds together to block the way—but Aelwyn was quicker than them all and had already hauled one of the panels open and slipped in.
He strode into the throne room, looking about him at its emptiness, shouting, "Cadavan? I'm here, blast your hide—hauled in like a criminal! Have the decency to face me. Cadavan, where are you?"
The soldiers charged through the door, shouting profanities. Aelwyn whirled, ready to duck and dodge out of their grasps, but Cadavan came out from behind the throne, hands held up, palms out. "Leave be, leave be, my good men! Leave us to ourselves. I thank you for your good offices, but if I am not safe with Aelwyn, I am not safe with anyone!"
Aelwyn spun to stare at him, amazed, and so did the soldiers. "But Your Grace—you bade us arrest him and guard him closely as we brought him to you."
"So I did, and he is here unscathed, so you have done your task well. Go now to bathe, dine, and rest, with your regent's thanks."
The soldiers seemed uncertain, their sergeant most of all, but they turned to go, casting doubtful glances back over their shoulders.
Cadavan saw and assured them, "What you have done was sorely needed. I cannot tell you the why of it now, but in a few months' time you will realize how vital this expedition was."
They turned and went, somewhat mollified.
Aelwyn was not. He turned on Cadavan, snapping, "I finally meet the right woman, she tells me with her eyes that she wants me to stay for all her life but that she'll go where I go, and then your soldiers arrest me and haul me away like a felon! Now you stand here in your velvet gown with a silver coronet on your head and a golden chain on your chest and tell me it was vital! Why, Cadavan, why?"
"Because if I hadn't, you would have been dead before I could have seen you again."
That stopped Aelwyn. He stared, mouth agape.
"Now rumors are surely running throughout the kingdom that I am angry with you and have cast you into the dungeon," Cadavan said, "so if you leave this castle, everyone will assume you escaped, and wherever you go, you should be safe. Indeed, Duke Viburnum's people may seek to recruit you." He came forward, clasping Aelwyn by the shoulders. "It is so good to see you, my traveling companion, when I feared the duke's assassins might already have done their work, and too well." He turned away, clapping Aelwyn on the shoulder. "Come, let us share a glass of wine and sit by the fire while I tell you the manner of it."
Numb with astonishment, Aelwyn followed.
Cadavan led him behind the throne, where a small door stood open between tapestries. They stepped into a room perhaps twenty feet square, filled with sunlight from three large mullioned windows, and lined with bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes.
"Sit, sit!" Cadavan waved Aelwyn to a padded chair by the fire. He tapped a cup of wine and held it out to the minstrel. "Drink."
The wine, of course, came from the little keg, prominent on Cadavan's worktable by the windows, which was spread with papers. The goblet was silver. Aelwyn held it up, turning it from side to side and admiring the distorted reflection of the room on its surface, but he didn't drink yet. "You spoke of Duke Viburnum—but he's in your dungeon!"
"He was in the dungeon…but he had one loyal knight who hid until he could let out the duke, Earl Chain, and everyone else we had locked up. Now Viburnum is going from castle to castle, convincing some of the lords to fight for him and blackmailing others."
Aelwyn stared in horror. "How long will it be before he attacks this castle?"
"There's no way to say," Cadavan said. "It will be soon—he has twenty lords ready to declare for him with all their knights and footmen."
Aelwyn whistled. "How badly do they outnumber the royal army?"
"Two to one, though more and more of the loyal soldiers are coming back every day."
The minstrel shook his head, scowling. "How can he gather so many so quickly? Does he have a wizard of his own?"
"He must, to have enchanted the dungeon so that it was proof against even Monahere. Whoever it is, thought, they are no longer here." Cadavan sipped from his goblet, then said, "If there were a magic-worker near the castle, I would know of it."
"How? Can you feel magic going on about you?"
Cadavan nodded. "We're born with a talent for it, you see—greater or lesser, it's there. Learning adds skill to talent, and both hone your sense of what's going on about you. Yes, I can feel magic happening, but there are usually signs, too, such as robins flying north in autumn, or a flock of birds pouring out sound like water, then suddenly completely silent."
"It could be a hawk."
Cadavan nodded. "It could—but it makes a fellow pause and pay attention to the feel of the world about him. Oh yes, I would know if it were magic, and would know what spell to use to counter it—easier to deal with, in its way. But when the wizard is far away and using his powers to sway the lords to Viburnum's cause, I can do nothing."
"But he'll have to come to the capitol Villeroi with Viburnum, to help him in the battle."
"And if he does, I shall discover him," Cadavan agreed, "but he'll have done his damage by then. Only a few of the barons had brought their troops to the border to invade Azure, you see. Most of them were sitting back, waiting to see how the war went before they jumped in."
"But they were selling the king supplies—grain and arrows, smoked meat and siege engines."
Cadavan nodded. "Those are the ones who stand to profit from their treachery. They, at least, will rally to Viburnum's aid—if they think he can overthrow Edmund."
"Of course," Aelwyn said with a thin smile. "Those are the ones who only bet on a sure thing, after all. They'll come pouring in on the winning side—once they're certain who that will be."
Cadavan nodded. "In the meantime, we can only try to use Viburnum's own weapon against him."
Aelwyn frowned. "What weapon is that?"
"Song."
Aelwyn stared. Then he burst out laughing. "You want me to do what I would have done anyway—roam the countryside praising you? Done, Cadavan! In an instant! For this, you had to bring me back to the castle?" Then he remembered why Cadavan had sent soldiers. "Or was it to keep me safe?"
"Actually, I had in mind you crafting the words and setting them to music, then giving them to other minstrels to spread for you," Cadavan said. "I've seen how people take up your songs and go about singing them as they work their daily rounds. If five minstrels begin them, every bard in the land will be chanting them within two weeks' time, and every peasant will have them on his lips in a month."
"You flatter me." Aelwyn believed him, of course—but his face did feel warm.
"You can't sing a lie, though." Cadavan sat back. "That's part of what tripped up Viburnum—he sent the lies forth, but they rang false when the minstrels sang them. That's why the people weren't all shouting for Azurean blood."
"I wouldn't knowingly spread lies anyway." Aelwyn looked sharply at Cadavan. "What news did you have in mind?"
"That it was not the king of Azure who sent the men who destroyed the cathedral," Cadavan said. "That Azure never meant to invade us in the first place. Viburnum's bandits raided the border to anger Azure, but they ceased once he was jailed, and Azure is no longer gathering troops to defend itself."
"But you don't know that's true?"
"I don't know it, no. I'm fairly sure of it, but not certain. I have to send an ambassador to assure their king of our peaceful intentions." He leaned forward, suddenly intent. "I have to send someone I can trust."
Aelwyn felt his heart drop down into his boots.
"I didn't want to say this, Aelwyn, but you're one of three people I can trust."
How could he stand against that? Aelwyn felt the starch go out of him, chased by a flood of fellow-feeling. Himself, and Monahere… he wondered who the third was. Well, the king, of course—but a child would believe whatever he was told. Who else?
Then the full meaning of Cadavan's words struck him. He stared. "You can't trust the people around you?"
Cadavan gave a very deliberate turn of his head.
"Then you don't need me on the road, Cadavan—you need me here!"
"I do," Cadavan agreed, "but the courtiers would drive you mad—the pettiness, the intrigues, the complete and unrelenting selfishness of the people drawn to power. No, I need you in Azure for now."
"Their king would never accept a commoner as an ambassador, let alone a wandering minstrel!"
"True, but he would accept a secret courier," Cadavan said, "and you've already proved that minstrels can be welcome in places other people can't."
"You'll have to give me a letter saying I come from you. What if one of Viburnum's men finds it?"
"I won't write it out, but I'll give you a passport—a small scroll with the words, 'This man is my servant' written by King Edmund's hand above the royal seal. Don't lose it, Aelwyn."
The minstrel swallowed. "I won't. What am I to tell this King of Azure, though?"
"Showing him your passport should guarantee you a few minutes alone with him. Then you can tell him that King Edmund knows that the destruction of the cathedral was a fraud, not Azure's doing, and that Ustared still holds Azure in as high a regard as we ever have."
"That's all?"
"That will be enough. He won't invade. We won't have to worry about being caught between Viburnum's forces and his."
"Which means I should also tell him about your restoring Edmund to his throne, and Viburnum's escape."
"Well, yes," Cadavan said, "but you'll do that before the full court, as part of your entertainment, won't you?"
Aelwyn grinned. "That's right—I will. Minstrels always bear the news, and I make sure to tell it first, because people may need cheering up after it. All right, Cadavan—I'll wander through Ustared and across the border, and see if I can't play in the palace."
"I can't guarantee your safety, Aelwyn. I'll send soldiers to guard you, dressed as peasants—honorable men we can probably trust, but six won't be much if Viburnum sends a raiding party. He has little cause to like you, after all."
* * *
The dozen horsemen pulled up at the end of the drawbridge. Their leader called, "Hospitality! Hospitality for King Viburnum and his bodyguard!"
"We hear, my lor... uh... Majes... uh... Sir!" The sentry turned and called to a companion.
" 'Your Majesty,' churl!" Earl Chain thundered. "Bring your master at once!"
Then they stewed and fretted until the portcullis lifted and they could ride across the bridge and into the gatehouse, where they came to another portcullis. Through it, they saw Baron Ellis, who said, "You know I cannot admit you, Viburnum."
"A clever way out of saying 'Your Majesty,' huh?" Viburnum said.
"Accord His Majesty his due respect!" Chain thundered.
"Easy, easy, Chain," Viburnum said. "Come on, Ellis, you know you were the first one to kneel and call me king. You really think turning us away now will fool anybody?"
"It will keep me from hanging as a traitor."
"Unless I win," Viburnum said, "and there's people enough who know you sat beside me ready to ride while Chain fought Connaught and his crew."
Ellis hesitated.
"Make up your mind, Ellis," Viburnum said. "You can't call Edmund king and me king both at the same time—and that blasted wizard knows whose side you were on. You really think he'll leave you master of this castle?"
Ellis frowned.
"At least with me, you've got a chance to hold onto everything," Viburnum said, "but with Edmund, it's just a matter of time until they kick you out."
Ellis nodded grimly and gestured to the porter. The portcullis rose and Viburnum and his bodyguard rode into the courtyard.
* * *
Cadavan sat in the solar, his private chamber now. A small fire burned on the hearth, only enough to banish the night's chill. The high windows that allowed so much sunlight during the day now showed him the stars, and he rested from his day's work by marking the positions of the planets on a scroll before him.
The door closed; he turned, scroll forgotten, trying to mask his eagerness. Sure enough, it was she, Monahere, auburn mane tumbled, face marked with weariness. Even so, she was graceful as a deer as she sat in the hourglass-shaped chair on the other side of the little table and picked up the cup of mulled wine that stood ready for her.
"He sleeps?" Cadavan asked.
Monahere lowered the cup, nodding. "I have left a dream-sentry by his bed, a toy knight to guard him from nightmares."
"Does he have many?" Cadavan's voice was gentle, low. "Will his soul heal?"
"Not so many, to answer your first question," she said, "and the wounds to his heart are not all that deep. He did not see his parents die, after all, only attended their funerals and saw the coffins—and he did not see Earl Connaught slain, for I kept him close in his own chamber. But he did hear the door slam open and saw Earl Chain standing over him, saying, " 'Prince Edmund, you must change quarters.' 'King Edmund!' the lad insisted, but Chain said, 'No longer!', seized the boy by the arm, and dragged him toward the door. I shrieked and ran to block his way. 'If you take him, you take me!' I said. 'As you wish,' he said, and hurled me to his soldiers, saying, 'Gag her before she can utter a spell!' "
Cadavan sat galvanized with horror. "Did they... mistreat you?"
"Chain would not allow them the time," she said, "and those who sought to visit me in the cell found me ready with a spell that brought them to their knees." She sighed and drank again.
Inside, Cadavan was shaking with rage, but he knew that was exactly what Monahere did not need. With only a quaver in his voice, he asked, "Why could you not use your magic to whisk both of you out of that cell?"
"There was a ward on it that was too powerful for me to break," Monahere said. "Two, really. One was quite old, even ancient, but still powerful. The second had renewed that power—recently."
"A minor sorcerer re-awakening the work of a powerful one who is centuries dead," Cadavan interpreted.
Monahere nodded. "On top of everything else, Viburnum has a sorcerer aiding him."
"I suspected that," Cadavan said.
"But a tame sorcerer would have detected the sleep-spell you cast over the wine in the keg," Monahere thought out loud. "Why didn't he?"
"I wasn't in much condition to cast a spell over anything," Cadavan said with a grimace.
"Oh." Monahere remembered the frog. "No. Of course not. Then how did the wine put so many to sleep so quickly?"
"The keg held much stronger spirits," Cadavan said, "or at least one. A ghost followed us for several days, a ghost who must have died drunk, for he wanted quite badly to slip into the keg and soak himself in wine. No matter how we tried to scare him off, he always managed to slip past us—and anyone who drank wine with a drunken spirit fell as sound asleep as he did."
Monahere smiled. "Good fortune. But what made you think Viburnum was in league with a sorcerer?"
"On the road, we battled a monster like a dark fog—an embodiment of ignorance. Wherever people had been listening to Viburnum's tame minstrels, that fog appeared, low but rising."
Monahere frowned. "How did you combat it?"
"By great good luck, we freed a genius."
Monahere stared, then laughed with delight. "Musa! Yes, she would be enough to banish a monster of ignorance by herself, wouldn't she?"
Cadavan smiled, pleased to hear her laugh. "She is undoubtedly redoubtable. Anyone she tries to teach flees in terror."
"Except, of course, those few who want to learn."
"Oh, yes." Cadavan grinned. "She and Aelwyn struck up quite a friendship, and Jojo listens to her intently, then tries out everything she teaches him right away."
"And Nadia?"
"Nadia is fascinated with the changes Musa can bring about in Jojo."
"And Jojo is learning because he wants to please Nadia?"
"Exactly." Cadavan's grin widened. "She learns because of him, and he learns because of her."
"A very neat..."
"Majesty!" A guardsman raced into the chamber and skidded to a halt. "I mean, Your Graces!"
" 'Your Highness,' for her," Cadavan stood. "I am Cadavan and nothing more. What news?"
"A courier has arrived from Duke Weston. The usurper has gathered an army, and it's on the march!"
TO BE CONTINUED…
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