"She's good-looking, this princess?" asked Charming.
"You better believe it," Azzie said. "You will awaken her with a kiss. She will open her eyes and look at you. Her arms will close softly around your neck, she will lift her face to yours, and you will know bliss of an order seldom experienced by mortal man."
"It'll be fun, huh?" said the Prince. "Is that what you mean, Uncle?"
"Fun is too mild a word for the pleasure you will feel."
"Sounds great," Charming said. He got up and tried a few steps around the room. "Let's go do it now, okay? I'll kiss her and then she and I can start having fun."
"It can't be quite as fast as that," Azzie said.
"Why not?"
"It is not easy to reach the Princess. You must fight your way through many perils."
"What sort of perils? Dangerous ones?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so," Azzie said. "But don't worry, you'll win through after Frike and I have supervised your training in arms."
"I thought you said I was already trained."
"Well," said Azzie, "a brushup will do no harm."
"Frankly," Charming said, "this whole thing sounds dangerous.'
"Of course it is," Azzie said. "That's how it is with perils. But that doesn't matter, you'll be fine. Frike and I will give you instruction in weapons, and then you will set forth."
"Weapons are dangerous. Other people can kill you with them. I remember that much."
You would, with your coward's heart, Azzie thought. Aloud he said, "You'll have superior weapons which none can oppose. And magical spells. And, most important of all, a magic sword."
"Swords!" Charming said, with a disgusted expression. "Now I remember swords! Horrible pointed things people use to open up great cuts in each other."
"But think of the cause," Azzie said. "Think of the Princess! You will fight, of course, but I assure you, you will prevail."
"I couldn't do it," Charming said. "No, I'm sorry, but I just couldn't."
"Why not?" Azzie demanded.
"Because I remember now, I'm a conscientious objector," Charming said.
"The hell you say! You've just been reborn! That is, brought out of the deep sleep caused by your wounds. How can you suddenly be a conscientious objector?"
"Because I know very well," Charming said, "that if I were in a situation where violence was imminent, I would simply faint dead away."
Azzie looked at Frike, who looked vacantly at a spot on the wall. Even this innocent-seeming movement was capable of interpretation. Azzie knew that Frike was secretly mocking him because he had gone to all this trouble to create a Prince Charming and he had had the bad sense to give him a coward's heart.
"Now, get this straight," Azzie said to Charming. "You are going to get some training. Then I'm going to get you an enchanted sword that will do away with everything it encounters. And then you are going forth on this quest."
"What if I get hurt?"
"Prince Charming," Azzie said sternly, "you had better master this fear of yours. I assure you, you are going to go out of here with a magic sword and see what you can do with it; or you are going to get it from me. And since I have demonic friends, getting it from me is apt to be more painful than anything you can imagine. Now go to your room and wash up. It is almost time for dinner."
"What are we having?" Charming asked. "Something French with plenty of sauce, I hope."
"Beef and potatoes," Azzie said. "We're building fighting men here, not dancing masters."
"Yes, Uncle," Charming said, and walked away. There was a pronounced slink to his walk. Azzie glared at Frike, daring him to comment. The servant lurched awry. Azzie found a chair in front of the fire and sat. He stared thoughtfully into the fire. He was going to have to come up with something extra. Prince Charming was sure to cut and run the first time he was in peril. And that would make Azzie a laughingstock everywhere in the three worlds. And that Azzie was not going to take.
Chapter 4
The next morning, Azzie began Prince Charming's training. First, there were exercises in swordplay. For a young man about to face dangerous enchantments, the sword was the great all-purpose weapon. Properly used, a sword can kill just about anything. Prince Charming showed considerable natural talent with the blade. His trunk and right arm had been the property of a swordsman who had been highly skilled. This skill showed when Charming lunged and parried, advanced with stamping right foot, retreated with his sword swinging a windmill of flashing steel. Even Azzie, no mean swordsman himself, was hard-pressed by Charming's impetuous advances and cunning ripostes.
But the Prince seemed constitutionally unable to press his advantage once he had won one. Azzie, clad in an old exercise tunic and wearing only a mild sword-turning spell on his upper body, worked with him over and over on the basic maneuvers.
"Come on!" Azzie said, panting as the two went at it in the shadowed exercise yard behind the mansion. "Get your back into it! Attack me!"
"I would not want to hurt you, Uncle," Charming said.
"Believe me, you won't touch me. Come on now, go for me!"
Charming tried, but his native cowardice prevented him.
Whenever he got close enough to Azzie to perform a killing stroke, he faltered, and the lithe demon was able to batter aside his guard and touch him.
Worse than that, when Azzie attacked, shouting fierce words and stamping his foot, Prince Charming's skill fell apart and he had to turn and run.
Frike, watching, shook his head. Who would have thought that one little part of Charming's body, a coward's heart, would expand and suffuse his entire frame?
Azzie tried the various spells at his command, hoping to enchant the Prince into courage. But something obdurate about him seemed impervious to exhortation and spell alike.
When they were not fencing and exercising, Prince Charming went off to a little gazebo in the far end of Azzie's estate. Here he kept his collection-because, despite his promising appearance, he was given to playing with dolls, dressing them up, and setting them out for high tea. Azzie thought of taking the dolls away until the Prince could attack properly, but Frike advised him against it.
"Oftentimes," he said, "the removing of a childish pleasure can drive a young man into a decline. Charming is uncertain enough as it is without you taking his dolls from him."
Azzie had to agree. It was obvious to him that something had to be done. But first he had to get the Prince's enchanted sword.
Supply had been promising one for what seemed like ages, but still hadn't been able to come up with the genuine article. They had plenty of Fairly Lucky Swords, of course, but none that was truly enchanted, with the ability to pierce any guard, to cut through dragons' scales, to plunge deep into the heart of an enemy. All the magic swords they knew of were already in use by other heroes, since Azzie's was by no means the only quest going on at this time. Azzie pleaded that his contest was special, since its winning or losing involved no less than the fortunes of evil for the next thousand years. "Sure," the supply-clerk said, "that's what they all say. Important, crash priority, believe me, we've heard it all before."
"But in this case it's really true!"
The clerk smiled unpleasantly. "Sure it's true, same as all the rest."
Azzie decided to leave Charming's training in the hands of Frike, who seemed to frighten Charming just a bit less than did Azzie himself. Azzie betook himself to Princess Scarlet's castle to see how the preparations were going there.
He came down on the outskirts of the enchanted forest. He had spent a lot of time and thought on this, and Supply had been pretty good about getting him what he wanted.