Bring Me the Head of Prince Charming

Frike, watching, shook his head. Who would have thought that one little part of Charming's body, a coward's heart, would expand and suffuse his entire frame?

Azzie tried the various spells at his command, hoping to enchant the Prince into courage. But something obdurate about him seemed impervious to exhortation and spell alike.

When they were not fencing and exercising, Prince Charm­ing went off to a little gazebo in the far end of Azzie's estate. Here he kept his collection-because, despite his promising appearance, he was given to playing with dolls, dressing them up, and setting them out for high tea. Azzie thought of taking the dolls away until the Prince could attack properly, but Frike advised him against it.

"Oftentimes," he said, "the removing of a childish pleasure can drive a young man into a decline. Charming is uncertain enough as it is without you taking his dolls from him."

Azzie had to agree. It was obvious to him that something had to be done. But first he had to get the Prince's enchanted sword.

Supply had been promising one for what seemed like ages, but still hadn't been able to come up with the genuine article. They had plenty of Fairly Lucky Swords, of course, but none that was truly enchanted, with the ability to pierce any guard, to cut through dragons' scales, to plunge deep into the heart of an enemy. All the magic swords they knew of were already in use by other heroes, since Azzie's was by no means the only quest going on at this time. Azzie pleaded that his contest was special, since its wi

"But in this case it's really true!"

The clerk smiled unpleasantly. "Sure it's true, same as all the rest."

Azzie decided to leave Charming's training in the hands of Frike, who seemed to frighten Charming just a bit less than did Azzie himself. Azzie betook himself to Princess Scarlet's castle to see how the preparations were going there.

He came down on the outskirts of the enchanted forest. He had spent a lot of time and thought on this, and Supply had been pretty good about getting him what he wanted.

He stood at the edge of his forest, peering in. It was green and bosky, just as a forest should be. Azzie advanced into it. No sooner was he within the green confines than the trees began to move, and their limbs swung down slowly to grasp and seize him. Azzie eluded them with ease. The forest hadn't really received its full complement of fabulous animals and other strange creatures. And the branches moved so slowly that even a dimwit like Charming could avoid them without difficulty. Damn it, he thought, why was Supply holding out on him?

Angry, he flew back to Augsburg to see how Frike was proceeding with the training. He found his servant sitting on the front stoop eating an apple.

"What's the matter?" Azzie said. "Why aren't you exer­cising him?"

Frike shrugged. "He said he'd had enough. He said that he had decided to take a vow not to kill any living thing. Would you believe it, he's turned vegetarian and is considering joining a monastic order."

"Now that is entirely too much," Azzie said.

"Agreed, sire," Frike said. "But what can you do about it?"

"I need some expert advice on this one," Azzie said. "Go prepare my magic powders and the Amulet of Expedition. It's time for me to do some conjuring."

Chapter 5

At first Azzie thought his spells weren't working because Hermes didn't appear no matter what he did. He tried again, with the big candles made from dead-man's wax that he saved for really difficult occasions. This time he could feel the spell working. He projected power into it and felt it racing through the aether, spi

"My dear Azzie, you should know better than to use a peremptory spell to call me like that. We spirit-advisers have our personal lives, too, you know. It's not nice to have to drop everything and get conjured up by some young demon like yourself."

"I am sorry," Azzie said. "But you've been so generous to me in the past... and my problem now is very dire."

"Well, let's hear it," Hermes said. "I don't suppose you have a glass of ichor around."

"Of course I do," Azzie said. He poured the ichor into a goblet carved from a single amethyst. While Hermes sipped at it Azzie explained his difficulty with Prince Charming.

"Let me see... ." Hermes said. "Yes, I remember some old writings on the subject. What your Prince Charming is doing is known classically as the Hero Refusing the Quest."

"I didn't know heroes could do that," Azzie said.

"Oh, yes. It's quite common. Do you know anything about your hero's family?"

"He doesn't have any family!" Azzie said. "I created him all by myself!"

"Yes, I know you did," Hermes said. "But recall what we learned of his legs. All his body parts have remembrances, especially the heart."

"He has a coward's heart," Azzie admitted. "I never looked into the rest of the family."

"I'll check it out for you," Hermes said. He vanished, not in a cloud of smoke as common demons vanish, but in a great flash of fire. Azzie admired the exit. It was something he would really like to learn.

Soon Hermes returned. "It is as I suspected. Your cadaver with the coward's heart was the middle of three sons."

"So? What does that mean?"

"In the Old Lore, the middle son is usually the worthless one. The eldest son inherits the kingdom. In the ordinary course of things, the youngest son goes out on the quest and wins a kingdom. The middle son just hangs around and never does much. It's nature's way of balancing the qualities."

"Hellfire!" Azzie said. "I'm stuck with a middle son who's a coward! What am I to do?"

"Since he is still unformed, there's hope of changing his mind. Perhaps you could convince him that he's a younger son. Then he will be more fit for the quest."

"Will that stop him from being a coward?"

"I'm afraid not," Hermes said. "It will help, of course, especially if you tell him stories of how fierce his ancestors were. But his cowardice is an i

"What do you suggest, then?" Azzie asked.

"The only known cure for cowardice," Hermes said, "is an herb known as gutsia sempervirens."

"Where does it grow?" Azzie asked. "And does it really work?"

"Its efficacy is unquestioned. Gutsia, or the nerve plant, as it is also known, imbues a man with rashness and blind­sightedness. You must administer it in small doses, otherwise courage turns into foolhardiness and the hero is killed before he ever gets properly started."

"It's hard to imagine Charming being foolhardy."

"Give him a dose of gutsia about the size of his smallest fingernail, and you will see results that will surprise you. But remember, it's always best to balance it off with something else, like coolandria, the herb of careful forethought."

"I'll remember that," Azzie said. "Now, where am I to find this gutsia?"

"That is the real problem," Hermes confessed. "Back in the Golden Age there was a lot of it about, and no one bothered to eat it, since courage wasn't needed in those days, only ca­pacity for enjoyment. Then came the Age of Bronze, when men fought each other, and the Age of Iron, when they fought not only each other but all other things as well. In those days, men consumed the herb in great quantities. That is one of the reasons why the men of old had such prowess. But the race of humans almost died away from too much warfare pursued too coura­geously. With the climate change that the new age brought, the gutsia plant died off. And now it is to be found in only one place."