First thing you know, rumor is spreading through the market that the peasants in Latruria are living in outright luxury.
With the gentry and the lords, the greed is different. After all, they don’t have much choice about their houses-they inherited the castles, and there’s always the chance of war, so they can’t just move out and build mansions. Nonetheless, some of the Latrurians are bragging about building palaces and just keeping the castles as forts. They all have the luxuries, too, so there’s no point in wanting more. But the young folk can crave excitement-and they do.
The rumors of King Boncorro’s court are that it is a positive paradise for sybaritic devotees of vice. Of course, rumor doesn’t say “vice,” it says “fun,” but the upshot is the same-there’s always something to do, always something exciting going on, always the chance of a duel or an affair, and just time enough to recover from one ball before you start getting ready for the next. The tales of old King Maledicto’s court are still hanging around, but where they talked about cruelty and depravity and vicious old men ruining the young folk, the stories about Boncorro’s court are of the good-natured, generous king letting his people play and have fun while he watches, getting his kicks out of seeing people be happy. The bind is that there might be some truth in that. If there is, it’s going to be awfully hard to fight, because rumors that have facts to back them up have a certain gloss of sincerity to them. I suppose we could close the border and keep the Latrurians out, but somehow it just doesn’t seem right to keep relatives from visiting each other, especially since, to these people in the marches, borders are a nuisance during peacetime.
It would be wrong to set up and enforce a rigid border watch unless it was really necessary. Besides, it probably wouldn’t work. My world has seen some pretty strong evidence that no border guards can keep out ideas and news. I’ve picked up some strong hints that the peasants on both sides of the border are accomplished smugglers, and there’s no way they’re not going to swap stories as they barter goods. So the only thing to do is to boost the standard of living in Merovence and make your court the kind of shining, ideal place that Emperor Hardishane’s court was-at least, in the legends. That’s if the stories are true. If they’re false, all it takes is a few eyewitnesses to start spreading the truth. I know that truth has a hard time competing against sensational lies, but believe me, I can wrap such a fascinating story around the truth that people really will listen.
First, though, I have to find out what the truth is-and there’s only one way to do that. So I’ll start out for Latruria in the morning, to see for myself. I should cross the border about mid-afternoon, and have some idea of what’s really going on by noon the next day. Of course, if the rumors turn out to be true, I’ll have to go on and visit King Boncorro’s court, but that shouldn’t take long-I expect to be home in a week, maybe two. Till then, take care of yourself-and try to look forward to our reunion as much as I’m going to. Thereafter followed a few more paragraphs that were, to say the least, very private, and certainly no business of anybody but Matt and Alisande. They would have reduced Alisande to an emotional puddle, if she had read that far. Unfortunately, she never got past the bit about King Boncorro’s court. By the time her ladies-in-waiting had revived her, they had begun to suspect that something was wrong. Actually, the ladies-in-waiting had been suspecting for a couple of weeks that something was very, very right-but the queen fainting when she read a letter from her husband made the very right turn very wrong, especially when revival brought a flood of tears. Such emotional behavior was very much unlike Alisande-but very like the woman who had been contending with early-morning bouts of nausea for the past fortnight. They had been looking forward to widespread rejoicing as soon as the news became official-the kingdom was due for an heiring-but their high hopes might be brought low if the poor queen had so bad a shock as to make her miscarry.
Almost as bad was the possibility that the child might be born with his father fled or defected to the side of Evil, and a shriek such as Alisande had uttered just before she fainted was cause enough to make them worry almost as much about that. So two of them fluttered about trying to revive her while a third ran for the doctor, and the fourth picked up the letter to scan it quickly. She blushed at the first two paragraphs, turned pale at the next few, and dropped it before reading the last. “No wonder her Majesty fainted! The Lord Wizard sends to tell her he will go into Latruria!”
“Into that land of iniquity?” Lady Julia gasped. “Surely he would not be so foolish!”
“Would he not?” Lady Constance said grimly. “He went into Ibile for no stronger reason than that he had misused the name of God. In truth, his championing of her Majesty’s cause when she was in prison scarcely speaks much for his prudence!”
“Ah me, the woes of wedding a gallant but reckless man!” Lady Julia sighed. “Still,” said Lady Beatrice, “he should be reckless only on her behalf, not in spite of… See! Her eyelids begin to flutter!”
“Oh, where is that doctor?” Lady Constance cried. “No… doctor!” Alisande protested, forcing herself to sit up. “No, Majesty!” Lady Constance cried in alarm. “Do not rise so suddenly!”
“Do not speak as if I am ill!” Alisande snapped. “It was a moment’s shock, nothing more!” But she stumbled as she pushed herself to her feet. Lady Constance was there to catch her arm. “What could there have been in that letter to so affright your Majesty?” She glared Lady Beatrice to silence. Alisande hesitated, torn between her very human need for a confidante and her monarch’s duty to take the full weight on her own shoulders. Then she remembered that word of Mart’s expedition was bound to become public knowledge, very public and very quickly, and allowed herself to speak. “My dunce of a husband has gone into Latruria!”
The women gasped in shock. It wasn’t difficult-they had never heard the queen refer to the Lord Wizard so rudely before. “But Majesty!” Lady Constance regained her poise first. “Latruria is a kingdom of sorcery and dark Evil!”
“Perhaps no longer,” Lady Julia said quickly. “The young King Boncorro may not be so bad as his grandfather!”
“Or may be worse,” Lady Constance said darkly. “I have heard tales to chill the blood about the doings of old King Maledicto!”
“Aye-the maidens ravished and tortured, the rebels flayed and quartered.” Lady Julia shuddered. But Lady Beatrice turned deadly pale. “More unnerving are the stories of the folk he had tortured so that he and the folk of his court might laugh at their screams!”
“Laugh, and worse,” Alisande said darkly. In spite of herself, she shivered, and her hand went automatically to her abdomen-but she forced it away. “It is whispered that he commanded his sons be slain,” Lady Beatrice gasped, “even that he slew the eldest with his own hand!”
“Aye,” Lady Julia said severely, “and that only the youngest was saved from his murderous sire, by his devotion to God-surely a miracle, in the midst of a court dedicated to the Devil!”