"Ah, but that was not all. According to this officer, this Jorian also passeth under the name of Nikko of Kortoli, to which name thou didst admit when I confronted thee with proof thou wert no true Mulvanian.
Now, were that not a coincidence singular? And furthermore, this officer spake of one Margalit of Totens, once lady-in-waiting to Queen Estrildis, who vanished last winter—some say carried off by a demon, but the officer believed not that tale—and hath not been seen since. One such coincidence of names were within the realm of the possible; but two! That passeth all bounds of rational belief."
Jorian sighed. "Very well, I confess—again. Means this that you will set the next group of searchers on our trail?"
"Nay; why should I? But what in sooth hath befallen the Queen? I see her not with thee."
"She has gone off in another direction, with one who, she hopes, will become her new husband."
The ghost shook its transparent head. "I regret that she came not with thee. Then ye could set me free from this curse."
"You mean, if Estrildis would scrub the floor?"
"Yea, verily. Be ye still wedded, thou and she?"
"Legally, I believe so. She hopes to arrange a divorce in another state, since Xylar won't give her one."
The ghost frowned, chin in hand. "A new thought doth begin to blossom in my brainpan, or whatever phantoms have in lieu thereof. In life I was the local magistrate, and none hath ever canceled my appointment. I can grant thee a divorce. Her refusal to accompany thee maketh her guilty of desertion."
"Is a legal act by a ghost valid?"
"I misdoubt the point hath ever come before thy high courts. But let us assume it so be. Then thou couldst wed the Lady Margalit here. Since thou art King, thy consort is Queen. So if she scrub my floor—not all of it, I do assure thee—I were instanter enlarged from this durance tedious."
Jorian and Margalit stared at each other. "Well!" said Jorian at last. "That's an interesting suggestion. We should need time to consider it."
Margalit said nothing. The baron said: "All the time ye wish, gentles. I would not coerce you into hasty acture. But think: once I am suffered to depart for my next life, ye need no more worry about my betraying you to the Xylarians! A favor meriteth a return favor."
"Let's sleep on it," said Jorian.
Next morning, Jorian said: "Margalit, let's take a walk and see how our beasts fare."
When they had found the horse and the mule thriving, Jorian looked at Margalit. "Well?"
"Well, what?" she replied.
"You know. The baron's proposal that you and I wed."
"Mean you that you do not altogether trust this ghost? That, if we yield not to his urgings, his resolution not to betray us might weaken? He hinted as much."
"That was a consideration; but it is not what I had in mind."
"What had you in mind?"
Jorian kicked a stone from the path. "I had not meant to speak thus but three days after parting from Estrildis. I have been drawn to you ever since the demon fetched you to Abacarus's sanctuary. You have all I should wish for in a life's companion, including the good sense that I, alas, sometimes lack. When I see you dance in your Mulvanian guise, 'tis all I can do not to leap up and bear you off.
"Ere the break with Estrildis, I told myself: Jorian, you are a faithful husband who'll do aught to recover his beloved wife. What you feel for Margalit is mere lust. But now I cannot deny that I am in love with you. I had meant, after a decent interval, to press my suit; but the baron has forced my hand.
'True, this journey has made a beggar of me, since Thevatas got away with the crown. But I have always been able to earn a living in one way or another."
"How legal would such a marriage be?" she asked. "I have heard of taking a ghost's deposition in a lawsuit, but never of one's acting as magistrate. Even if the marriage were legal, a royal divorce might not be, since the Regency claims authority in such matters."
"Well," said Jorian, "if I be King, then by Xylarian law I am entitled to five wives. So I cannot be faulted for bigamy whatever Estrildis's status. At least, that is, in Xylar, whither I hope never to return. How think you?"
"Jorian, promise me one thing."
"Aye?"
"That as soon as we cross into Othomae—assuming they do not catch us—you will file similar actions for divorce and marriage under Othomaean law, so that no awkward questions shall arise."
"Mean you that your answer be 'yea'?"
"Aye, I do so mean. Well?"
"I promise. And back in Kortoli I'll do it again!"
Told of the betrothal, Karadur said: "My felicitations on you twain. But it does seem a pity that all your arduous efforts, over the last three years, to regain your spouse should come to nought."
"Rubbish, old man!" snapped Jorian. "My efforts have given me an infinitude of stones to tell. And without these attempts, I should never have known Margalit. So from adversity has come treasure."
"As to that, we shall judge ten years hence."
"No doubt; but I can't wait until we are all dead ere making up my mind. Let's to it."
Under Baron Lore's directions, Jorian found some yellowing papers in the desk in the baron's cabinet. With the ghost invisibly dictating, Jorian wrote legal phrases on them. He signed the first, and both he and Margalit signed the second. The problem was getting the baron to sign, since the ghost was not material enough to grasp Jorian's quill pen. At last, by concentrating his psychic force, the ghost made a small scorch mark on each of the sheets where his signature would have appeared. Jorian, Margalit, and Karadur signed their names around the blackened spots as witnesses to Baron Lore's mark.
"Hail!" said the disembodied voice. "Now stand ye before me—"
"Where is that?" asked Jorian.
"Oh, pox! Anywhere will do. Stand side by side and clasp hands. Dost thou, Jorian…"
The ceremony was soon over. The ghost said: "Now, sir and madam, I pray you to carry out your side of the bargain. Goodwife Margalit, thou shalt find a bucket in the kitchen, and the well still holdeth water. For a rag, thou must needs employ something from thine own possessions, for the looters have swept the castle clean of aught of that sort."
They made a rag by cutting a piece off the tail of Jorian's older shirt. Margalit got down on her knees and scrubbed. After a few moments, the invisible ghost said:
"That will suffice, my dear. The curse is lifted; I do perceive the walls of the castle fading from view.
"Oh, ere I depart, one small matter. The treasure hunters have poked and pried all over my poor castle. If ye covet the small hoard they sought but never found, pry out a stone to the right of the main fireplace: third course from the bottom, second stone from the left. Tis of no use to me. And now fare ye well! I am…" The voice faded to silence.
Jorian pried the stone loose, disclosing a hollow containing a bag of coin. When counted, the hoard came to ninety-nine Xylarian lions plus some small change.
"Ha!" said Jorian. " Tis almost exactly the sum wherewith I fled from Xylar the first time. 'Twill not buy an army or a kingdom, but at least we shan't starve for a while!"
Four days later, riding through broad farmland, Jorian said: "We should reach the Othomaean border by nightfall. We could get there sooner by hard driving, but I like not the look of FUoman's leg."
They were seated beside the road, eating. Karadur said: "Silence, I pray." His dark eyes took on a glassy, faraway look.
Jorian whispered: "He is listening for some message from the astral plane."
At last the old Mulvanian shook his head. "My son," he said, "my second sight informs me that we are again pursued."
"How far? How many?"
Karadur shook his head. "I cannot say at the distance, save that they approach swiftly."