Roger Zelazny - Bring Me the Head of Prince Charming

"Those were his words, eh?"

"His very words, sir. I didn't know what to respond to that, master, so I made a low bestial noise deep in my throat, figuring the young man could interpret it in any way he pleased. Was that all right, sire?"

"Very judicious, Frike. And what happened?"

"Why, master, he paced around a time or two, and then he turned to me and said, 'Why has Uncle Azzie been keeping this from me?' "

"A-ha," Azzie said.

"Beg pardon, sir?"

"Never mind, it was a meaningless interjection. What did you say to him?"

"I said, 'For reasons best known to himself, young Prince,' and again made the low bestial noise in my throat."

"That was well done, Frike. And what happened after that?"

"After more staring at the painting, and fumbling with his lip, and various other movements which I leave out for the sake of brevity, he said, 'Frike, I must have her.' "

"I knew my scheme would work!" Azzie said. "What else did he say?"

"That was all for the first day," Frike said. "By the second, he was getting impatient. He wanted to know where you were.

Since he is a dutiful lad, he wanted your permission before he set forth after her."

"Good lad," Azzie said. "Where is he now?"

"Gone," Frike said. "Soon after, he decided he couldn't wait."

"But where did he go?"

"Why, after the Princess Scarlet, of course. Just as you wanted him to. He waited five days, master, and longer he could not abide due to the fever of passion her picture had inspired in him. Was that not how you wished it, master?"

"Of course. But he needed to have instructions first and the special quest hunting equipment. What did he take?"

"He went into the heavy-equipment closet and selected a sword and armor from the equipment hanging on the wall. And then he took some money you had left in the chest of drawers and said he was on his way and to tell you he'd be back with the Princess and hoped you wouldn't be annoyed with him."

"Damnation!" Azzie cried. He stamped his foot and sank into the earth up to his waist. He extricated himself with dif­ficulty.

Babriel had wandered out of the house upon Azzie's ar­rival. He had listened and now said, "What's the matter? He's doing what you want him to, isn't he?"

"Yes, but he shouldn't have left yet," Azzie said. "I've set up this quest to be difficult and dangerous. It's the only kind that will get the attention of the High Powers. He is going up against dangerous matters of magic, which common men had best leave alone. And he has none of the magic protection I have been collecting for him."

"What, then?" Babriel asked.

"I must get the things that he needs to him," Azzie said. "And I need to do this quickly, quickly! Did he tell you where he planned to begin his search?"

"Not a word of it, sire."

"Well then, which way did he go?"

"He went straight ahead that way," Frike said, pointing. Azzie looked in the direction indicated. "North," he muttered. "He went north. A bad omen. Frike, we must find him before it's too late."

Prince Charming rode alone into the great green forest, beyond the familiar fields and hills, into the terra in­cognita that lay beyond. His way took him into the north, and as he rode he thought about swords. He knew that a Fairly Lucky Sword was not as good as a Truly Enchanted Sword, but it was a lot better than an ordinary sword. He held up the Fairly Lucky Sword and looked at it. It was an exceed­ingly handsome weapon, with its nicely curling pommel and the tassels around the grip. This was one of the loveliest swords he'd ever seen. It was considerably smaller than the big broads­words that were in vogue in those days, and it was a straight sword, without a curve, none of your Turkish curlicues, thank you very much. It was double edged, sharpened on both sides, and it had a needle point. This would be enough in itself to establish it as one of a special class of sword, since most ordinary swords were only edged on one side and were hardly ever pointed.

The Fairly Lucky Sword was a nice weapon, but it had its problems. There is a general class of Enchanted Swords, and Azzie, in haste to find a magical weapon for his protege, didn't look at the bin he took it out of. He might have thought all Enchanted Swords were the same. He didn't realize that "enchanted" was a generic term for a certain type of sword; that is to say, swords with enchantments of one sort or another upon them.

Enchanted Swords differ greatly in efficacy. There are (or used to be) Unbreakable Swords, and those that never lose their temper. Swords that unerringly kill their opponents are exceedingly rare, although that is the quality every sword-builder tries to get into his blade. All-Conquering Swords can be found from time to time, but these puissant blades generally don't outlast the life of their owner, who, since he can't be overcome man to man in swordsmanship, is typically poisoned by a close friend, a wife, or a wife of a close friend. Even with a perfect sword, humans don't get out of this world alive.

Prince Charming rode through the tangled forest. It was, of course, an enchanted forest. Magical trees just stood there, dark and gloomy, a green world with black shapes flitting across it. This was like the ancient wood of the Old World, concealing hordes of monsters.

Charming came at length into a clearing, in a bright little meadow surrounded on all sides by darkness and menace. At the far end Charming could see a pavilion made of green and orange cloth. A large black horse was tethered to a tree nearby, tall and fine, a proper battle horse.

Charming walked forward and approached the pavilion. There were arms piled outside it: heavy, black armor, splendidly made, encrusted here and there with pearls. Whoever it be­longed to, he must be wealthy and doubtless powerful.

Charming saw that there was a slughorn hanging from a standard outside the tent. He raised the horn and blew a loud blast. Before the echo had faded, there was a stirring within the pavilion. Then a man emerged. He was large, black-haired, and scowling. He dragged beside him a fair maiden in a swoon­ing mode.

"Now who is this blows my slughorn?" the knight said. He was clad in brightly striped smallclothes. Seeing Charming, he scowled more deeply.

"La, sir, I am Prince Charming," Charming said. "And I ride forth to rescue the Princess Scarlet from her sleeping spell."

"Ha!" said the knight.

"Why do you say 'ha'?" asked Charming.

"Because it behooves me to make a scornful sound on hearing of this slight and utterly insignificant quest of yours."

"I suppose your quest is more important?"

"Of a surety it is!" the man replied confidently. "For know, young man, that I am Parsifal, and I quest after no less a thing than the Holy Grail."

"The Grail, huh?" said Charming. "Is it really in these parts?"

"Of course it is. This is the enchanted forest. In it subsist all things, and the Holy Grail is sure to be found here."

"What about the woman?" Charming asked.

"Beg pardon?"

"That woman you're holding by the hair."

Parsifal looked down. "Oh, her. She signifies nothing."

"But what are you doing with her?"

"Must I spell it out?"

"Of course not! What I mean is - "

"I know what you mean," Parsifal said. "She is here for me to toy with until the Grail is in sight."

"I see," said Charming. "By the way, do you need that horse?"

"My horse?" said Parsifal.

"Just thought I'd ask. Because if you don't, I could sure use him. He's a lot bigger and stronger than mine."

"This is the weirdest thing I've heard in a long time," said Parsifal. "This child knight scarcely dry behind the ears comes riding into my camp and he wants to know do I need my horse. Why, no, certainly not, fellow. You can have him if you want him."