The Spider King nodded slowly, eyes still on her. "And 'tis only the trickle of life in your body that holds you here?" Angelique blushed and lowered her eyes, and I felt a thrill shoot through every limb and extremity. It surpassed anything that was ever brewed in a test tube.
Then the Spider King turned to me with a skeptical lift of the eyebrow. "What say you, O Hope of the Oppressed?"
"Uh . . ." I swallowed through a suddenly dry throat. "I just want to find my friend Matthew Mantrell, your Majesty." I was about to add the bit about getting back to my own universe, but I glanced at Angelique, looking so vibrant, alive, and curvaceous, and decided to leave that part out. Honesty, however, compelled me to admit, "I also want to get Angelique's ghost back into her body."
"How shall you do that, with the queen in your way?"
I shrugged. "Take the queen out of the way."
"So you are set upon the slaying of a monarch?"
"I hadn't thought of it that way," I admitted, "though I wouldn't mind, now that you mention it - nobody could deserve it more. Besides, her grandmother usurped the throne - she isn't a rightful monarch.
"If she was born to it, it is hers by right," he stated with an air of full authority.
I looked at him narrowly; I've developed this instinct for knowing when a person's trying to snow me. "You don't believe that for a second," I accused. Then pieces pulled themselves together in my mind - the picture of that great fat spider sitting back and laughing at me, after she had just bitten me in Matt's apartment, and all the little arachnids that had been watching me ever since. "You were the one who brought me here in the first place! Maybe you can tell me how I'm going to unseat Suettay! That's what you want, isn't it?"
He stood still for a moment, then smiled. "You are astute, Wizard Saul - and, yes, you are a wizard; your denials are futile. As to deposing the usurper, you are the lodestone to which the forces of opposition will gather, and may have the strongest chance of success - but it is not by any means certain."
I frowned. "Just a minute, there. In the first place, I thought you said Suettay wasn't a usurper."
"Her own actions betray that she is, at least, no rightful monarch," the king said. "Since taking the throne, she has sought for the rightful king; for twenty years she has sought the descendant of the queen her grandmother slew."
I nodded. "So she knows she's trying to impose herself on a land that isn't hers, one that rejects her naturally." I had heard of such a thing, in the comparative lit major that I almost finished. "So if I kick her out, I'm just punishing a would - be regicide. And since she's a sorceress, it will be in the land's best interests for me to overthrow her."
"Even so." The king's face darkened; right or wrong, the killing of a monarch went against his grain. "None but a monarch born may claim a crown - and one who knows her claim to be unrightful must bring chaos upon the land she would rule. To do so is to offend against nature and goodness! To do so is to turn her power to evil!"
His glare was so damned intimidating! I stood against it, though, and said stoutly, "So whether she was evil or not, she certainly would be, once she had decided to keep the crown and kill the rightful claimant - if she could." Privately, I was remembering the long history of European dynasties being established by usurpation, and the Chinese convention of the Mandate of Heaven passing to the successful usurper - but the rules seemed to be different here. Or, no, not different, but lying on a deeper foundation; there was some sort of affinity between the rightful ruler and the land itself. Now that I thought about it, European usurpers usually had been related to the previous dynasty in some way, no matter how tenuous - at least, the usurpers whose families had managed to hold the throne for several generations. I took a deep breath and said, "Majesty, aid us in overthrowing this vile sorceress, and we will seek the legitimate heir!"
Gilbert and Angelique both stared at me, eyes very wide. I didn't blame them; I felt the same way. I had been so determined not to get myself committed! But this was, at least, only a short-term commitment - and it seemed to be the price of the king's help. I guessed that was what he had brought me here for.
Seemed I'd guessed right, too. The Spider King stood in thought, chin sunk on his breast. Finally, he lifted his head and said, "Will you swear?"
I ground my teeth in resentment, even though it meant I'd guessed rightly. But he didn't leave me much choice, now. "Yes. But I want to hear the wording first."
"You shall have it." The king plucked one of the leaden medallions from his hat and held it out in his palm. "Upon Saint Louis! Swear that you will hold the throne only to search for its rightful occupant, and that you will make no attempt to take the crown permanently for yourself or for your line!"
I didn't move, just stood there and looked him eye to eye. "I wasn't planning to take it at all."
"And who will rule the land when the usurper is dead, while you seek out the rightful heir?" the king said impatiently. "Come, swear!"
"I'm tempted. But, actually, I had in mind a ruling council, maybe with representatives from all the different classes - uh, estates." His mouth twisted in sarcasm. "And who will lead it?" I just glared back at him while my mind raced like a rat in a maze, searching for a way out. There wasn't one, so I went for the most limited terms I could think up on the spot. "Okay, so I'll call myself prime minister, or president . . ."
He frowned, not understanding.
"The one who presides," I explained, my exasperation beginning to show. "But I won't call myself king."
He glared at me, but the glare was softening a little. Finally, he ave one short, curt nod. "Good enough. Swear!"
I stared for a second longer, then sighed and gave in. I clasped my hand over the king's. "All right. I swear."
"Speak the words!"
I took a deep breath, as much for patience as for a long sentence.
"I swear by Saint Louis that, if I come to lead the government of Allustria, I will hold it only for the purpose of . . ." I broke off, staring at our joined hands.
Beneath my palm, the medallion had grown warm.
"Swear!" the Spider King commanded.
All around me, I felt tension, as if the air itself were thickening but I couldn't see anything. I looked up, and the king's glare seemed to bore into my eyes. "Swear!" he demanded. "Or are you false?"
I reddened and tried to ignore the heat. ". . . for the purpose of governing its people as well as I can, but only while seeking its rightful heir . . ."
But the tension in the air was growing physically tangible, and the medallion had become hot. It was beginning to be painful. I gritted my teeth and went on. "I swear that I shall never leave off searching for the heir and will resign as soon as I have found him-or her! And that-" The medallion was a searing pain beneath my hand, but I forced myself to ignore the agony and go on. "-under no circumstances will I seek to take the throne for myself, or for my heirs! By Saint Louis! " Then I tried to pull my hand away, but the king still held it, gaze probing mine, as the heat died away and was gone. Then, finally, the Spider King released my hand. I snatched it away with a groan of relief and looked at my palm to make sure I wasn't burned.
There, tan against the skin, was the image of Saint Louis. I screamed. "No! I'm nobody's man! I'm not property!" My friends stared at me, Angelique frightened, Gilbert appalled, and Frisson very interested.
"It will fade when the terms of your vow are completed," the Spider King advised me. "But for now, you are committed. Never forget."
"How can I, when I've got this brand to remind me?" I shouted. He nodded slowly, unfazed by my anger. "That is its purpose."
"And to make sure everybody can tell whose side I'm on," I yelled, "including my enemies! What chance do I have now to survive if I'm captured?"