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"Could you be a bit more specific?" I said, with as much dignity as I could muster.
"I'm referring to your possible marriage to Queen Hemlock, of course," he said. "Or, more specifically, your difficulty in making up your mind. You're agonizing over the decision, when it's obvious to the most casual observer that you don't want to marry her."
"There are bigger issues at stake here than what I want, General," I said wearily.
"Bullshit," Badaxe said firmly.
"What?"
"I said 'Bullshit,'" the General repeated, "and I meant it. What you want is the only issue worth considering."
I found myself smiling in spite of my depression.
"Excuse me, General, but isn't that a little strange coming from you?"
"How so?"
"Well, as a soldier, you've devoted your life to the rigors of training and combat. The whole military system is based on self-sacrifice and selfdenial, isn't it?"
"Perhaps," Badaxe said. "Has it occurred to you, though, that it's simply a means to an end? The whole idea of being prepared for combat is to be able to defend or exert what you want against what someone else wants."
I sat up straight.
"I never thought of it that way."
"It's the only way to think of it," the General said, firmly. "Oh, I know a lot of people see a soldier's life as being subservient. That it's the role of a mindless robot subject to the nonsensical orders and whims of his superior officers ... including Generals. The fact is that an army has to be united in purpose, or it's ineffectual. Each man in it voluntarily agrees to follow the chain of command because it's the most effective way to achieve a common goal. A soldier who doesn't know what he wants or why he's fighting is worthless. Even worse, he's a danger to anyone and everyone who's counting on him."
He paused, then shook his head.
"For the moment, however, let's consider this on a smaller scale. Think of a young man who trains himself so that he won't be bullied by older, larger men. He lifts weights to develop his muscles, studies various forms of armed and unarmed combat, and practices long hard hours with one objective in mind: To harden himself to where he won't have to knuckle under to anyone."
The General smiled.
"What would you say, then, if that same young man subsequently let every pipsqueak and bravo shove him around because he was afraid he'd hurt them if he pushed back?"
"I'd say he was a bloody idiot."
"Yes," Badaxe nodded. "You are."
"Me?"
"Certainly," the General said, starting to look a little vexed. "Didn't you recognize yourself in the picture I just described?"
"General," I said, wearily, "I haven't gotten much sleep for several days now. Forgive me if I'm not tracking at my normal speed, but you're going to have to spell it out for me."
"Very well. I spoke about a young man building himself up physically. Well, you, my young friend, are probably the most formidable man I know."
"I am?"
"Beyond a doubt. What's more, like the young man in my example, you've built yourself up over the years ... even in the time I've known you. With your magikal skills and wealth, not to mention your allies, supporters, and contacts, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. What's more, you've proved that time and time again against some very impressive opposition."
He smiled and laid a surprisingly gentle hand on my shoulder.
"And now you tell me that you have to marry Hemlock even though you don't want to? I don't believe it."
"Well, the option is that she abdicates and I'm stuck with being king," I said, bitterly. "I want that even less."
"Then don't do that, either," the General shrugged. "How is anyone going to force you to do either if you don't voluntarily go along with it? I know I wouldn't want the job."
His simple analysis gave me a thread of hope, but I was still reluctant to grab for it.
"But people are counting on me," I protested.
"People are counting on you to do what is right for you." Badaxe said firmly. "Though it's hard for you to see, they're assuming that you'll do what you want to do. You should have listened more closely to what my bride to be was saying to you. If you want to marry Queen Hemlock, they'll support you by not standing in the way or giving you grief. Do you really think, though, that if you firmly state that you want to continue working with them, that they won't support that with as much or more enthusiasm? That's what Massha was trying to say, but I think she was saying it too gently for you to hear. Everyone's been too gentle with you. Since you don't seem to know what you want, they've been walking on eggshells around you to let you sort it out. In the meantime, you've been straining to hear what everyone else wants rather than simply relaxing and admitting what you want."
I couldn't suppress my smile.
"Well, General," I said, "if there's one thing no one could accuse you of, it would be of not treating me overly gently."
"It seemed appropriate."
"That wasn't a complaint," I laughed. I was feeling good now, and didn't bother trying to hide it. "It was admiration ... and thanks."
I extended my hand. He gathered it into his own and we exchanged a single, brief shake that sealed a new level in our friendship.
"I take it that you've reached your decision then?" Badaxe said, cocking an eyebrow at me.
"Affirmative," I smiled. "And your guess as to what it is would be correct. Thank you, sir. I hope it goes without saying that I'd like to return the favor sometime, should the opportunity present itself."
"Hmmm ... If you could, perhaps, show a little greater interest in the plans for the wedding," the General said. "Particularly if you could come up with a way to shorten the pla
"I can shorten today's session," I said. "Give Massha my apologies, but I feel the need to meet with Queen Hemlock. Perhaps we can continue the session tomorrow."
"That isn't shortening the process" Badaxe scowled. "It's prolonging it."
"Sorry, General" I laughed, heading out the back door. "The only other suggestion I'd have is to convince her to elope. I'll hold the ladder for you."
Chapter Nineteen:
"There must be fifty ways to leave your lover!"
P. SIMON
MY MIND FINALLY made up at last, I set out to give the news to Queen Hemlock. I mean, since she was waiting for a decision from me, it wouldn't be right to delay sharing it once it had been made. Right? The fact that if I waited too long, I might chicken out entirely had nothing to do with it. Right?
Suddenly, I was very aware of the absence of my bodyguards. When I had given them their assignment to distribute my unwanted cash, it had been under the assumption that I was in no particular danger while here at the palace.
Now, I wasn't so sure.
I had noticed back when we first met, when I was masquerading as King Rodrick, that Queen Hemlock had a nasty, perhaps even a murderous streak in her. There had been no evidence of it lately, but then again, I wasn't aware of her having received any bad news of a degree such as I was bringing her, either.
I shook my head and told myself I was being silly. At her worst, the Queen was not taken to open, unpremeditated violence. If it looked like she was taking the news badly, I could simply gather the crew and skip off to another dimension before she could get around to formulating a plan for revenge. There was absolutely no reason for me to need bodyguards to protect me from her. Right?
I was still trying to convince myself of this when I reached the Queen's chambers. The honor guard standing outside her door snapped to attention, and it was too late for a graceful retreat.