"No kidding. He-" Melanie did a take. "Huh?"
"Never mind, kid. I love him, and that's all there is to it."
"If you say so." Melanie furrowed her brow in thought.
"Sure is a big church," Linda said abstractedly.
"Yeah. Listen, tell me this. You mean if Gene had showed up, you would have married him?"
"Of course."
Melanie began to reply, but decided against it. After a moment she said simply, "Oh."
A noise came from the vestibule of the chapeclass="underline" a strange and incongruous sound, given the location: the clopping of horse's hooves. The girls looked up in curiosity and puzzlement.
A magnificent white stallion burst out onto the floor, running full tilt toward the altar. The girls remained seated, transfixed at the strange sight. At the last second the rider reined the horse in and skidded to a stop. The animal reared, neighing its dismay. Then it stamped its feet, snorting angrily.
The rider was Gene, dressed in furs and leather. He dismounted.
"You'd better have a good excuse," Linda said.
"We were captured by barbarians," Gene replied.
"You're going to have to do better than that."
"It happens to be true. Anyway, I'm here," he said. "Where is everybody?"
"Left," Linda said. "The wedding was supposed to be two hours ago."
"You should have waited. Really, I fully intended to show up on time, but ran into a pack of bandits on the way back from Orem. That's the capital city. We besieged it, and… well, it's a long story."
"I'm sure," Linda said.
Gene took a deep breath and looked around. "Place is deserted. Did anyone show up?"
"Sure."
"Inky?"
"Nope."
"Oh. Well, then…"
"Gene, you really shouldn't have left when you did."
"Honest, Linda, we had no choice. Snowy and I were just lounging around, and over the hill comes this horde, this… it was amazing. You should have seen all the-"
"I'm sure you have a good excuse, Gene," Linda said wearily. "You always do."
"Hey, listen. Linda, I'm sorry. I really am."
"I know."
Gene was amazed. "You know?"
"Yup. It's okay."
"It's okay?"
"Sure. It wasn't your fault."
"No, it wasn't. We literally got carried away. I mean, we could have come back sooner, an opportunity presented itself now and then, but there was an empire at stake, and a civilization. We had to save it."
"I understand."
"You do?" Gene sat on the steps. "I must say, you're taking this awfully well."
"What else can I do?"
"Well, I don't know. Yell at me a little."
"What good would it do?"
"None, I'm afraid. I'm incorrigible."
"You are. You're a big overgrown kid."
Gene looked sheepishly contrite. "Yeah. Sorry."
"It's okay."
"So." Gene rubbed his hands together nervously. "Shall we reschedule?"
"Let's talk it about it later."
"Oh. Sure, sure."
Linda stood up. She waved both hands, and her wedding dress disappeared, replaced by shorts, tights, boots, and blouse.
"Whew, glad to get out of those duds. Gene, come here."
"Uh, okay."
Gene went over to her. Linda balled her fist and hit him a good one in the stomach.
Gent went "Whoof!" and doubled over.
"Sorry, but I had to get that off my chest." Melanie looked away, laughing.
"I guess-" Gene bent over again until he finally caught his breath. "Guess I deserved that."
"You certainly did. And if you hit me back, I'll turn you into a toad."
"I wouldn't hit you back, you know that."
Melanie had to laugh. "You two are so silly together."
"Aren't we?" Linda said. "Ike and Mike. Frick and Frack."
"Who's that?" Gene said, pointing.
"Hm? Oh, that's Rance."
Rubbing his stomach, Gene watched the newcomer stroll toward the altar.
"Say, he looks familiar. Maybe it's his getup."
Melanie said, "Yeah, it's kind of in the same period as yours, sort of. Only more refined."
"He is a nobleman," Linda said. "Or said he was. Warlord, something like that."
"Hello!" Gene called.
Rance brought his gaze down from the ornately carved rafters. He assessed the person who addressed him, then advanced.
"Greetings," Rance said.
"I'm Gene. Gene Ferraro."
"A pleasure, Gene Ferraro." The two men shook hands.
"Listen, just seeing you like this, for the first time, an idea occurred to me."
Rance arched one eyebrow. "You don't say?"
"Yes. Do you have any executive experience?"
"I don't quite know what you- Well, I suppose I do. Yes, in running my estate, Corcindor. And then there's my family's seat in the Council of Lords."
"Great," Gene said. "I know of a job opening. Interested?"
"Well… actually-"
"We can talk. Have you dined yet, Rance?"
"Why, no."
"Would you care to? We can discuss this."
"I would be honored, Gene Ferraro."
"Call me Gene. You see, there's this empire, the Empire of Orem. Now, a little while ago my army took the place and we… "
The two men walked away, talking business.
Linda sighed. "Well, that's that." She turned around, "What a beautiful horse."
Melanie had gone to it and was now rubbing its sleek neck. "Isn't he a stunner?" she asked.
"Yeah," Linda said. "Yeah, he sure is."
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
"Confound it!"
Outside the windows of the study, the storm was abating, and light limned bare trees against the eastern sky. A last peal of distant thunder sounded. The wind died down.
Dalton looked up from the book he was reading. "Eh?" Thaxton was seated at a rolltop desk. Papers littered the floor.
He ran a hand through his mussed hair. "Not a clue. Not one clue anywhere in all the earl's papers!"
"What were you expecting?"
"Oh, blimey, I don't know… a recently changed will, insurance policies, anything! But everything here is routine. No recent large amounts of cash withdrawn from his account, no cashed-in policies, not a jot or a tittle of anything the least bit suspicious in all this rubbish. Just a few gambling markers, but I can't read this signature."
"Give it up, old bean."
"What? Never. I know I can crack this case. Simply a matter of time."
"How much time? After all, this isn't the castle. We're strangers here. We know nothing of this culture, for all its familiar aspects."
"I know this world rings a change or two on merry old England, but surely not that much of a change."
"You don't know that," Dalton said. "We haven't been here long enough to make the judgment."
"Nonsense. I feel completely at home-" Thaxton let a sheaf of papers drop to the floor. "That is, if it weren't for all these damned murders. Curious, most curious."
"Sure is," Dalton agreed. "And that's why I think we're in one of the nightmare aspects. You know, one of the funny ones."
"Stuff and nonsense."
Dalton said, "Lord Peter, these people are mad. You can see it in their eyes. And there's something fishy about this place."
Thaxton sat back in his swivel chair. "You mean something's gone wrong with the castle again?"
"Maybe. But we know that aspects tend to get a little strange sometimes. Something goes awry and you find yourself in some wacky universe that makes no sense. That's why I keep saying that we should just cut and run, without further delay. We might never get back."
"I think you're being an alarmist, old boy," Thaxton said. "Of course things are a bit eerie here. Four murders in a row. Can't deny that's a bit out of the ordinary. But it does happen now and then."
"Who says Sir Laurence's murder is the end of it?"
"Oh, I doubt there'll be more. They have every available man from four counties surrounding the place." Lord Peter yawned. Recovering, he said, "They should call Scotland Yard, is what they should do."