A half-hour later, the contents of the twenty-three traveling chests of Baron Emmerhard and his family were spread around their suite, but there was no sign of Emmerhard's coronet. The baron sat in a chair with his face in his hands, while his wife and four daughters tried to comfort him.
"Nay, nay," he groaned. "By the God and Goddess, I cannot take my place in line without my regalia. 'Twere a slight to the fledgling King. I should never live it down. I'll send a message to young Valdhelm, that I'm taken with a sudden tisic and like to die o't."
"Could not a hard-riding courier gallop back to Zurgau to fetch the thing hither in time?" asked the Lady Trudwig.
"Nay, with the fleetest steeds in relays, he could not return ere the morrow, and the coronation's at high noon today."
Gerzilda, the tall, willowy, blond eldest daughter, spoke up: "Father! Don't you call to mind that my lord Petz be abed with the gout? He hath been excused from the ceremony."
"Well?"
"Why can ye not borrow Treveria's coronet?"
"Nay, 'tis a count's coronet. It hath more spikes and knobs than that of a mere baron."
"None would notice. If any do, ye can explain the circumstance and pass it off with a jest. And I shall die if I cannot attend in my new gown ..."
Baron Emmerhard grumbled some more, but at length his womenfolk brought him round.
"Well," he said at last, "let's forth, stopping at Count Petz's on the way. Since his house be on t'other side of the city, this divigation will force us to miss the burning of the heretics; but that can't be helped."
Because of the gathering of the nobility, the narrow, winding streets of Kromnitch were more crowded than usual, despite a persistent drizzle. The chairs bearing Baron Emmerhard and his family were stopped a score of times as the chairmen bearing them slipped and staggered over the muddy cobbles. It took the party over an hour to reach Count Petz's mansion.
Knowing his master's vassals by sight, the doorkeeper promptly opened the portal for the Zurgau family. He told Emmerhard: "My lord is with his physician, sir; but I'll send a message."
"A pox!" cried Emmerhard. "This brooks no delay. Petz knows me well enough. Stay here, ladies; I'll go up myself."
"But, my lord—" began the doorkeeper.
"My good man, take thine etiquette and stuff it. I'm in a very swivet of a hurry. Show me to your master's chambers or call me one who will."
When Baron Emmerhard, preceded by a frightened servant, burst into Count Petz's bedchamber, they found the huge old Count of Treveria sprawled on his bed, and a gray-bearded, bespectacled little man pottering around a tripod and muttering. A mixture of burning powders perfumed the air with a rainbow of aromatic smokes. The physician chanted: "Abrasaxa, Shenouth—"
"Petzi!" cried Emmerhard, heedless. "Pardon the intrusion, but I must have your help instanter!"
"Oh, Emmeri!" growled Petz, heaving his great bulk up and rearranging his vast white beard atop the covers. "Why in the name of the Divine Pair did ye interrupt Calporio's spell against my gout? Now he must needs start over."
"A grievous thing indeed, my lords," clucked the little man. " 'Tis the second such interruption. I might as well go back to bleeding."
"Which will doubtless finish off my liege lord altogether," said Emmerhard. "Doctor Baldonius tells me that bleeding's a useless, discredited—"
"Baldonius!" snorted Doctor Calporio. "I will not try Your Lordship's patience with my opinion of his servants, but if that mountebank—"
"Hold thy tongue, sirrah; we've no time for disceptation. Petzi, my trouble is this ..." Emmerhard rattled off his tale of the forgotten coronet.
"Certes, ye shall have mine," said Petz. He spoke to the servant who had ushered Emmerhard in.
"Harmund! Give the baron my coronet to wear at the coronation. Yarely; he hath but little time."
"A thousand thanks, Petzi!" roared Emmerhard, turning with a wave to follow Harmund out. "Let me know when I can do aught for you."
Harmund led Emmerhard to Count Petz's strong room. After comings and goings with' key rings—for the door could be opened only by turning two keys in the lock at once—they entered the room. When a massive chest was unlocked and the lid thrown back, two coronets lay revealed, each in its padded, satin-lined box. Harmund hesitated, saying:
"My lord said not which to give you, sir. Shall I go back to ask—"
"Nay, nay, no time. Besides, 'twould grossly upset his little wizard, were his spell to be thrice interrupted. The crown on the left looks the worse for wear; let's try it! I would fain not expose my old friend's best headpiece to the risk of dent or downfall."
The old coronet proved a size too large. "Murrain!" said Emmerhard. "This thing rides upon mine ears."
"I'll fix it, my lord," said Harmund. A strip of parchment stuck with flour paste to the inside of the lining made the coronet fit passably well; and the baron, beaming with relief, rushed off to join his women.
As Emmerhard had anticipated, they were too late to view the burning of the heretics, three unrepentant monotheists from Pathenia. They reached the Great Temple of the Divine Pair just in time to take their places for the coronation. Emmerhard, torn between haste and the wish to move in a stately, dignified manner, was the last man to reach the barons' rank. He ventured a glance down the knights' rank, behind the barons, and nodded briefly as Sir Dambert greeted him with a small, discreet wave.
While Emmerhard was lining up with the other barons of the Empire, Doctor Calporio sought out the chest in Count Petz's strong room, wherein lay the remaining coronet. "Harmund!" shrieked Calporio.
"Aye, Doctor?" Rattling keys, the servant hastened into the storeroom.
"Why gavest thou the baron the old coronet?"
"He chose it himself, sir; none forbade—"
"Knowst not that I've been using the bauble for a mighty magical work? That it be charged with puissant sorcerous powers? Ah, demons of the Pit, with what ninnyhammers am I surrounded!"
Calporio dashed out with his purple robe flapping and, back in Count Petz's bedchamber, told his employer of this untoward development.
"Carry not on so, good my Doctor," said the count. "From what ye told me, the wearer must needs do certain things and make a wish, ere the demon imprisoned in the gem will act. Is't not so?"
"Aye, but—"
"Since Emmerhard knows not the formula, he cannot activate the demon. So let us calmly await his return of the object."
Calporio did not look convinced.
Baron Emmerhard stood in the Great Temple, in a row with his fellow barons, while the ceremony ground on. It had already lasted two hours, and ahead lay at least two hours more of hymns and sermons and speeches and ritual acts of allegiance to the King. Valdhelm HI, resplendent in blue and gold, had just made his appearance before the altar.
The new king was a nondescript young man, pleasant enough but not, it would seem, very bright. Rumor had it that at times he fancied himself a watering pot. The effective rule of the kingdom would doubtless devolve into the hands of a cabal of ruthless, power-hungry magnates like the Duke of Tencteria, who had been acting as adviser to the crown prince. Emmerhard looked upon the future with gloom.
For the present, the baron's feelings were of suffocating boredom. Even the most glittering tableaux lose their glamor with time; and for Emmerhard, the coronation had long since passed that point. He was evidently not the only one so afflicted. Out of the comer of his eye he had seen Baron Randver of Sidinia sneak a quick gulp of water-of-life from a flask concealed in the sleeve of his robe.
Furthermore, the baron's feet hurt. The Emperor and his family were seated in the front pew, and behind them sat several kings of the Empire. Everyone else, however, had to stand. Moreover, the parchment strip inside the coronet began to cut painfully into Baron Emmerhard's forehead.