Roger Zelazny - Bring Me the Head of Prince Charming

"I'd best stop by and say a quick hello before we leave. Thanks, Frike."

Ylith and Babriel were stealing glances at each other over tall flagons of wine and exchanging glances through the haze of burnt mist which surrounded the smoking crumpets. They seemed to have developed a taste for each other's company. You could tell by the way Ylith arched her back at every op­portunity. As for Babriel, it seemed that some heavenly ana­logue to desire was working itself out in him.

Azzie bounded into the room, grinning or grimacing as the case may be, causing Ylith to spring to her feet.

"Azzie, dear, I'd thought you still far gone," she an­nounced, rushing toward him, embracing him. "I was just taking advantage of the opportunity."

"Opportunity for what?" Azzie asked.

"Why, to see how things are going on your end of the business," she stated. "How fares the project?"

"The moment is crucial," Azzie observed, disengaging him­self, "and my presence is required on the scene. I think you'd better get back to Scarlet's castle to watch developments on that end. Hi, Bab. How's Good doing these days?"

"Why, uh. We've just come up with a very interesting and inspiring touch for our entry. We're calling them stained-glass windows. I'd really like you to see them sometime."

"Sorry, I'm in a hurry right now. Stained glass?"

"Yes. Beautiful and morally instructive."

"Ugh! Sounds terrible. Sorry I can't stay and chat. Have another drink. It's good for you. Frike! Have we got everything we need?"

"Here, master, is the final thing!" cried Frike, stump­ing into the room. He was holding in his hand two long horseman's boots made of limp red leather. There was nothing unusual about them except for the small dials set into the heels.

"My Seven League Boots!" Azzie cried. "Frike, you're a genius!"

Azzie put them on, hefted the sack containing spells, extra swords, and other odds and ends. He tapped the heels of the boots twice, activating them.

"I'm off!" he cried.

Azzie went through the front door in a single stride and took to the air.

Babriel and Ylith rushed to the windows to watch, for they had never seen Seven League Boots in operation before. Azzie's pair was not new, but they worked perfectly. Off he went, just clearing the houses of Augsburg but gaining altitude, and climb­ing steadily.

The Seven League Boots took him high into the air, and Azzie could see the great forest below him, stretching to every horizon in a boundless sea of green. Every once in a while a clearing broke the uniformity and showed a settlement below. This went on for a long time. Azzie didn't know where he was and decided to ask directions. He tried to get the boots to take him down. The boots refused to vary from their previous course. That was the trouble with Seven League Boots. They were very literal, taking you exactly seven leagues at a step, not an inch more or less. He reached down and hammered at them.

"I want to go down right here!" But the boots ignored him, or at least didn't register his complaint. Straight and true they carried him, above the forest and its several rivers, coming down at last outside a town.

Amazed peasants in the village of Vuden in eastern Wal­lachia watched as a demon made a perfect landing in the middle of the weekly fair.

"The enchanted forest!" Azzie cried. "Where is it?"

"Which enchanted forest?" the villagers cried back.

"The one with the enchanted castle with the Sleeping Prin­cess in it!"

"Back that way about two leagues!" the villagers cried, pointing the way Azzie had just come.

Once again Azzie soared into the air. And once again the Seven League Boots took their full seven-league stride.

Now began a nerve-racking contest in which Azzie tried to estimate what direction to take in order to reach his desti­nation in exact increments of seven leagues. It took a while to figure out the appropriate zigs and zags.

There it was ahead, the peak of the magic mountain, rec­ognizable by the haze of obfuscation which hung over it. But now, where in its vicinity was Charming?

Prince Charming walked all day through the forest. The ground was fairly even, there were numerous sparkling streams, and from time to time he would pass a fruit tree and pick his lunch. The sun slanted in, gilding the leaves and branches. After a time, he came to a glade where he rested.

When he awoke, the woods were gloomy with evening light and something was passing near him. He scrambled to his feet and moved off into the underbrush, reaching for his sword before recalling he had abandoned Excalibur. Drawing a knife then, he peered out from behind a blackberry bush. He saw a shaggy little pony enter the clearing.

"Hello, young man," the pony said, halting, and staring at the bush.

Charming was not surprised that the pony could speak. After all, it was an enchanted forest.

"Hello," he said.

"Where are you going?" asked the pony.

"I'm looking for an enchanted castle that is supposed to be somewhere nearby," Charming said. "I am to rescue a maiden named Princess Scarlet, who lies there in an enchanted sleep."

"Oh, the Napping Princess thing again," the pony said.

"Well, you're not the first who has been through these parts in search of her."

"Where are the others?"

"They've all perished," the pony said. "Except for a few who are still striving onward, and who are destined to perish soon enough."

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry for them, but I guess that's how it should be," Charming said. "It wouldn't do to have the wrong fellow awaken her."

"So you're the right fellow?" the pony inquired.

"I am."

"What's your name?"

"Charming."

"Prince Charming?"

"Yes."

"Then you're the one, all right. I was sent out here to find you.

"Who sent you?"

"Ah," said the pony, "that would be telling. All will be revealed to you at some later time. If you live long enough, that is."

"Of course I will," Charming said. "After all, I'm the right one."

"Get up on my back," the pony said. "We can discuss it as we go along."

Prince Charming rode along on the pony, until at last the woods opened and he could see a field in which many tents were pitched. Strolling among them were knights in holiday armor, eating barbecue and flirting with damsels in tall pointed hats with flimsy veils who went back and forth carrying wine, mead, and other drinks. There was even a little orchestra playing a sprightly air.

"Looks like a goodly bunch over there," Charming said.

"Don't you believe it," the pony replied.

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Take my word for it."

Charming knew, in the part of his mind which housed ancient wisdom, that shaggy little ponies who appeared mys­teriously in the woods could be counted on to give good advice. On the other hand, he also knew that men were not supposed to follow this advice, since if one always listened to the voice of reason, one would never do anything interesting.

"But I'm hungry," Charming responded. "And perhaps those knights know the way to the enchanted castle."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," the pony said.

Charming kicked the pony in the ribs and it ambled for­ward.

"What ho!" cried Charming as he rode into the midst of the knights.

"What ho to you!" the knights called back.

Charming rode closer. "Art thou a knight?" the foremost of them called out.

"Indeed I am."

"Then where is thy sword?"

"That's quite a story," Charming said.

"Tell it to us, then, will thee?"

"I met this sword named Excalibur," Charming said. "I thought it was a proper blade, but no sooner had we started traveling together than it opened on me a mouth such as you would not believe. And it grew passing strange, till finally I had to escape it lest it kill me."