“Hail, pater familias!” he cried, and his voice boomed musically through the great room.
“You speak wrongly,” I replied in sorrow. “All these months I have toiled with the magic that seemed most likely to succeed: instead of a sturdy man-child I made only a little, slithering snake that any farmer boy could go woodward and soon gather at the end of forked stick. Bah! Between you and your books. a year of my young life has been taken from me and I am still childless.”
“My dear Cecil,” the priest said gravely. as he laid a kind hand on my knee. “I would not harm you in any way. You are thick-headed. and the only way you can learn is by your own experience. Months ago you deliberately left your castle and so sweet bride, being bound and determined to create a child by legerdemain. Had I not advised otherwise, you might have gone to Gobi. Perhaps you were wise in not biding with your wife. for you had to stay somewhere. Women are always hard to live with. but at times they are more difficult to please than usual. You have had your little fling and tried your hand at a most terrible magic. Now that you know your limitations you had better go home and attend to your duties in Cornwall. For I have news of great import for you. Cornwall. deeming you dead. hath selected a new Overlord.”
“Surely that cannot be!" I cried. leaping from my chair.
“ ‘Cannot’ is a large word to use. Were l you. I would hasten back and see the truth for myself. You were witless to remain away so long.”
“‘Witless I may be!” I howled in rage. “But I can still use my two-handed sword, my battle mace and my ten-foot lance. My stallion neigheth for the fire and sweat of battle. I will go and fight this impostor in single combat. What part had the Queen in this? Was she loyal to me?”
“I understand she furnished your successor.”
“I expected nothing else. Welsh women have that reputation. At least she might have waited longer for my return. Did you give her those pearls she flaunted in my face?”
My angry words must have annoyed him. At least he faded away like so much mist before the sun. I started as I noted the manner of his leaving. It was all too much for me. Tossing several tumblers of ale down my parched throat I threw me on a couch and, shivering, forced myself to sleep.
Three days later I was near enough to my cattle to be cautious. I identified myself to a friendly peasant whom I had befriended in the past. Leaving my horse and armor with him I borrowed some of his old clothes and told him I would send for the stallion and war gear in a few days. It was fortunate I was in disguise, or I would have been easily recognized by the nobility who seemed to be gathering from all parts of Cornwall. On foot as I was, I had to keep on watch for these upstarts on horse and in chariot who were giving scant attention to the common folk. I recognized Queen Broda in her golden chariot, her Irish stallions driven by her husband while she nursed a golden-haired boy. Courtiers trumpeted the coming of the King of Wales bringing presents to the new Overlord. Oh, I could have sliced him with pleasure, and the ink hardly dry on the treaty he had made with me! But I followed the crowd. They acted as though they had come a-Maying, with songs and flowers and chit-chatting talk. It was “Oh, the lovely Queen!” and “Oh, how fortunate we are to have a new Overlord!”
At last we all came to the castle. I watched for a chance and wended me to the library, the windows of which provided a fine view of the courtyard thronged with grand folk from all over our litte world. To them came my wife, the deceitful and false Leonora, the woman that I, in love, had once call by the sweet name of Ruth. The crowd huzzahed her, and I could see that she still held their fancy with her baneful beauty. She seemed sad but yet very determined.
“Men of Cornwall!” she cried regally, and I had to acknowledge to myself that she looked every inch a queen. “Men of Cornwall and friends from Ireland and Wales, greetings! Bravely and well have you been loyal to me during the sad months while my Lord Cecil has been absent from Cornwall. He adventured to Gobi, at the request of the unfortunates of that country, in quest of the most horrible Centripedius, a creature so large that our former dragons of Cornwall were but little garden lizards in comparison. Patiently you have waited with me for his return. Now the time has come when we cannot but feel that my Lord hath died, a stranger in a strange land, overcome by a magic he could not conquer. And so I give you my son, baptized Eric the Golden, but now called Cecil Secundus. He. lawful descendant of my dear, dead husband, has every right to become your new Overlord.”
At that she took a sturdy youngster from a nurse and held him high above her head. Then cried the multitude their approval. and all seemed happy and gay. Barons came and placed a crown on Leonora’s head and made her regent till the boy came of age.
“This will take some explaining,” I mused to myself. “Somehow or other I seem to be out of the picture.”
Leonora found me in my favorite chair, the one covered with bearskin. “Why, Cecil!” she cried, as she threw herself into my arms. “Where have you been all the time? Why did you stay so long?”
I kissed her many times. Somehow I felt that she expected me to, and I did not want to disappoint her.
“I have been to places you wot not of,” I replied gravely, “and you need not think I have been idle. Today I noticed that you held in your arms a sturdy boy. Does that look as though I was idling while a away from you? Some day, when the mood strikes me, I will tell you how I worked a magical sending in Gobi, the very telling of which will make the hairs on your head stand out like quills upon the bristling porcupine. Though the danger was great I gladly risked it, for I promised Cornwall a Prince; and Cecil, Overlord of Cornwall, has never failed to keep a promise. Think you that you, a weak, ignorant woman, could have done all this without the aid of my magical workings in Gobi? I had to stay away till I knew success had crowned my efforts, but I would have arrived sooner had I not paused in Bohemia to rescue a beautiful lady from a terrible death. So do not puff up with too great pride. It was my skill as a magician in the Gobi Desert that gave you the opportunity to present that boy to all of our friends. It was masculine magic, and fearful and wonderful were the things I did and the words I said while far away from you. Now tell me, did you make wine last year?”
“I did, my Lord,” she replied meekly. There was no doubt that she was deeply impressed by my narrative.
“Then bring me a brimming horn of it. I want to drink to the long health and happiness of my son, Eric the Golden. Time enough to call him Cecil Secundus when I am dead and he rules in my place.”
“I will gladly bring you a brimming horn of wine, Cecil darling, but do not forget, in your more sober moments, — that there is such a thing as feminine magic. ” With that she ran out of the room, her silvery laughter following her.
Now what did she mean by that?
10. The Key To Cornwall
Although this present tale starts out with Cecil, Overlord of Cornwall, the Cecil series really ended with Feminine Magic; the Overlord here makes his farewell and the series takes a different turn. Those who did not care for the whimsy of the Cecil episodes ought to find the present chapter more to their taste; but I trust that those who enjoyed the Cecil tales will appreciate this episode, which closer to the sort of weird tale one expected from the author.