“You are observant,” Frike said, smiling in a bloodthirsty manner.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
“As for that,” Frike said, “my master, Azzie, sent me.”
“I hope he is well.”
“He is fine. He has sent me here to fetch him something which I shall put in here.”
Frike opened a leather satchel he carried. Within it was a sharp odor.
“Vinegar!” said Charming.
“Ye say true,” said Frike.
“And why bearest thou a satchel filled with vinegar to this enchanted castle?”
“The vinegar is for the purpose of preserving that which I would bring away with me.”
Charming did not much like the way the discussion was going, but he said, “And what would you bear back from here in vinegar, Frike?”
“Ah, lad, it’s thy head I’ve come for.”
“My head?” cried Prince Charming. “But why should Uncle Azzie want that of me?”
“He’s angry at you, boy, because Princess Scarlet didn’t kill you when she was supposed to. Thus he lost the contest between Darkness and Light which is played out on the eve of each Millennium. He’s decided you’re sly and unreliable and he wants your head.”
“But it was not my fault, Frike! And even if it had been, why should Azzie hold a grudge against me merely for trying to preserve my life?”
“It’s illogical, I’ll grant that,” Frike said. “But what can you do? He’s a demon, and he’s bad, very bad. He wants your head and I’m here to take it to him. I hate to tell you this, for it is your wedding day. But I have no choice over timing. Say good-bye to your Princess. It is to be hoped you have enjoyed her favors betides, because there’ll be no aftertides when I’ve taken your head ensor.”
“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?” Charming said.
“Better believe it. I’m sorry, kid, but that’s how it goes in fairyland. Ready?”
“Wait!”
“Nay, I wait for nothing!”
“But I have no sword!”
“No sword?” Frike said, lowering his blade. “But you must have a sword! Where is your sword?”
“I need to get it.”
“You’re supposed to have a sword on your person at all times.”
“Give me a break, it’s my wedding day.”
“Well, go get your sword, but be quick about it.”
“Frike, you were practically a father to me. How can you do this?”
“Well, I’m playing a pretty traditional role,” Frike said. “The crippled servant who is slightly sympathetic but still has a fatal bias toward evil. Nothing personal, but we must fight it out with swords.”
“Well, rats,” Charming said. “Wait right here. I’ll be back with my sword.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Frike said, and went over to sample the buffet.
When Prince Charming had been gone almost half an hour, Scarlet went to look for him. She found him in what remained of the stables. He had just finished saddling up the swiftest goat he could find.
Scarlet said, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I don’t know how to tell you this,” Charming said, “but I think I’ve got to get out of here.”
“Coward!” Scarlet said.
“Bitch,” Charming said.
“But our new life together has hardly begun!”
“What matter a new life if I’m too dead to enjoy it?”
“Maybe you could defeat him!”
“I don’t think so,” Charming said. “Frankly, though, I’m not happy about running out like this. I sure need the advice of some wise spirit.”
There was a flash of light. A voice said, “I thought you’d never ask.” It was Hermes Trismegistus.
Chapter 3
Never had the demigod looked handsomer. His dark cloak, draped artfully over his massive white marble body, looked miraculously beautiful. Every strand of his hyacinthine hair was in place. A faint Oriental tilt to his eyes gave him a look of unutterable beauty and wisdom. The blankness of his eyes, which, in the classic statuary mode, were without pupils, made him seem preternaturally wise. Even his sandals gave off an air of sapience.
“O Hermes,” Charming said, “what Azzie is doing isn’t fair, sending out Frike to take my head, and all because I haven’t fallen in with his scheme of having Princess Scarlet murder me.”