"Has he not a daughter?" asked Eudoric. "Me-seems I have heard of such an one."
"Aye," said Emmerhard. "A truly nubile daughter, whom Rainmar would dearly love to marry off. Trouble is, none of his noble neighbors will countenance a union with this caitiff rascal. So Rainmar faces the choice of, imprimis, leaving poor Maragda an unwed spinster; secundus, of wedding her to one of his scurvy knaves of low degree; or tertius, of reforming his evil ways."
"Well, sir," said Eudoric to the baron, "since your own lovely daughter jaculated me forth, I have been casting about."
"Eudoric!" cried Sir Dambert. "Thou shalt not marry into that clan of banditti! I forbid it!"
"Easy, Father. I have no intention of wedding the lass, at least so long as Rainmar pursue his larcenous course. But think: if Rainmar accept me as a suitor, he'd be less fain to rob his prospective son-in-law's coach, would he not? With a call at Castle Hessel from time to time, we should be able to keep the pot on the boil until the Emperor settle his score with Aviona and our men-at-arms come home. Then we can do as we list."
Dambert gloomily shook his head. "Oh, thou art clever, son; cleverer than becomes a knight, forsooth. Thine estate of knighthood entails obligations—"
"Chide not the lad," said Baron Emmerhard. "In these degenerate days, when a stroke of the pen oft outweighs a slash of the sword, we need all the wit we can muster."
Days later, Baron Rainmar of Hessel, a huge, red-bearded, broken-nosed man, stared suspiciously at his caller. Behind him, men-at-arms handled pikes and fingered crossbows.
"State thy business," he barked.
Eudoric allowed a smile to cross his normally serious face. Although a little shaken by the row of Rainmar's victims—hanged, impaled, or beheaded— beside the front gate, he hid his feelings. He said:
" 'Tis merely a friendly visit, my lord; my first to your hold. I must avow my admiration for its strength."
"It serves as a shield 'twixt me and mine envious neighbors—but is this all thou came for? I can scarce believe—"
Trying to look like a bashful lover, Eudoric said: "Truth to tell, I have heard of your daughter, whose beauty, they say, outshines that of the Goddess herself. Being unwed, methought a closer look might lead to better things."
Rainmar grunted. "Well, sit down, sit down. Ye may go," he told his cutthroats. "Witkin! Tell the Lady Maragda that her presence is desired. Now then, Sir Eudoric, I've heard some tales of thee: that thou have adventured in distant lands; that thou be hand in glove with mine old enemy Emmerhard; and that, despite thy gilded spurs, thou seek to gain wealth by a base, unknightly enterprise; to wit, running a carriage-wagon from Zurgau to Kromnitch. What sayest thou? Katilda! Wine!"
"As to the first point," said Eudoric, "it's true that I've journeyed to Pathenia. 'Twas there I learnt of this system of carrying men and goods from hence to thither, at regular intervals, for an established fare. For the second, Baron Emmerhard is my partner in the business. Who his friends and foes be amongst the nobility is no concern of mine. And for the third, I hold that no trade founded on horses can be construed as base. Didn't the word 'knight' once mean simply 'one who rides a horse'?"
"A doctor of law or theology art thou in spirit," growled Rainmar, "for all thy purported knighthood. Ah, Maragda, my dear! Here's a neighbor's scion, hight Sir Eudoric Dambertson, come to make our acquaintance."
The tall, red-haired young woman curtseyed as Eudoric rose and bowed. When she was seated, the conversation wandered off into weather, crops, the latest plague, an outbreak of witchcraft, and imperial politics. In parting, Eudoric received a guarded invitation to call again.
When at last he cantered away on Daisy, Eudoric drew a long breath. At least, the robber lord had neither hanged him nor held him for ransom.
As autumn advanced and nights grew cold, Eudoric found himself calling more and more often at Castle Hessel. As he had predicted, the attacks on his coach had ceased. Moreover, he had come to like Rainmar's daughter Maragda. He was not, Eudoric sternly told himself, authentically in love. He had been through that delightful and perilous state before, but the outcome had never been happy. Now he viewed such matters in a colder, more critical light. Calculation and expediency counted at least as much as the fleshly urges of a normal man in his twenties.
He noted, for instance, that Maragda's generous build and exuberant health predicted healthy offspring. If, he thought, he could but find some means to persuade or coerce Baron Rainmar into giving up his career of rapine ...
On Eudoric's sixth call, however, Rainmar said bluntly: "A word, Sir Eudoric, ere I allow thee a sight of my chick. What are thine intentions towards her?"
"I had thought," said Eudoric carefully, "that, if she be willing, I should—as soon as mine own affairs render me able and worthy—enter a formal suit for her hand."
"Methought as much," growled Rainmar. "Thou hast things in thy favor, for all that thou art connected with the sniveling Emmerhard. But thou hast also some in disfavor, which must needs be settled."
Eudoric raised his eyebrows. "To which of my many faults do you refer, my lord?"
"This new knighthood, for ensample. I'm told 'twas not for any knightly deed, but for base monetary return—that thou didst, in fine, bribe Emmerhard with the offer of a partnership."
"No bribe, my lord. The two were quite distinct. I had the knowledge to launch our enterprise; Emmerhard, the gold. So we pooled the twain. For the other, I had done a deed of dought in slaying a dragon in Pathenia; although, because of distance, I could not trot out witnesses to the act. Ask the learned Doctor Baldonius whether the two square yards of hide I fetched him from the East be not the integument of an authentic dragon." Eudoric refrained from mentioning that, first, Jillo Godmarson had actually killed the beast; and second, Eudoric had promptly been thrown in jail for breach of the Pathenian game laws.
"That may be." Rainmar ran thick fingers through his beard, in which a few threads of silver appeared amid the copper. "But I'm not quite satisfied. Dost thou adhere strictly to the code of knighthood: to be loyal to thy suzerain, protect the female kind, and so forth?"
"To the best of mine ability," said Eudoric. "Hm. Well, now, I have a task for thee, which will test thy mettle. Accomplish it, and Maragda shall be thine. Knowest thou the deadly wood of Dimshaw, in the farthest reaches of my demesne?"
"Who does not?"
"Hast heard of the great spider, whom we call Fraka, that haunts it?"
"Yea, and how she has slain the men who blundered into her web. What—?" With sinking heart, Eudoric realized what was coming next.
"In fine," said Rainmar, "thy task is to slay this monster."
Eudoric gulped, acutely aware of the obligation of knighthood to show no fear, no matter how one felt. "Why don't you simply burn that part of Dimshaw where Fraka dwells?"
"That were to waste good timber, which I mean to cut to sell to the Emperor's shipwrights. Besides, in a dry spell such as we now undergo, such a fire might get out of hand and devastate the barony. Nay, this is a task for one fearless hero—to wit, thyself."
"How shall I do this deed, sir?" said Eudoric, feeling anything but fearless.
"That's thine affair. Thou shalt, howsomever, do it in true knightly fashion. No magical sleights or base commercial tricks! I demand a proper stand-up fight, in accord with the ethic of chivalry. Mine own past may not have been utterly sinless," (which Eudoric thought the understatement of the century) "but my lass shall wed none but the purest and most unsullied gentleman of the realm."
Eudoric hastened to the forest dwelling of Doctor Baldonius, who got out his huge, iron-bound encyclopedia and turned the pages of crackling parchment.