The Scarred Princess (part 9)

Sir Perditus ate heartily that night, for it was the first real meal he had had in many a day. He thought, of course, of the possibility that the giant would poison or drug his food. But he decided that he would face that with the same courage with which he would face a fight: if this was to be his death, then he would face it boldly, and trust himself to God's care. But the food was not poisoned, and he was glad, because he was very hungry. Then he slept deeply, in a soft and comfortable bed, which he had not done since he left the Princess's castle.

When he awoke the next morning, he found that he was left to himself for a while, and he sat on the balcony which adjoined his chamber, resting and enjoying the feel of the sunshine and the breeze on his face. But before mid-day, he was summoned to the giant's audience chamber.

"Have you rested, Sir Knight? Are you ready?"

"I have, and I am."

The giant looked closely into his face. "I do not think you are wholly recovered, yet, and I wish to fight you in your full strength. Rest another day, and arm yourself well, and then we shall meet." Sir Perditus, though loathe to delay, accepted his host's orders, for indeed he was still very tired, and thought he could do with another day of sleep and good food. He bowed again, and returned to his chamber.

So it was each day, for at least a week. The giant-king would summon him, examine him, and pronounce him unfit yet to fight, and then would dismiss  him. Sir Perditus found that he was allowed freedom within the castle so long as he stayed in the western wing where his chamber was, or in the courtyard outside it. The lord of the keep did not come into these regions, being too big for them, but confined himself to the central parts where the rooms were larger and the ceilings were higher, and left the other areas to his servants. He was shown to the armoury, and there chose for himself new mail, helm, and shield, as well as a long spear, which he thought would be very useful in fighting an opponent so much larger than himself. These were all man-sized, which the giant kept for the use of his soldiers, and not his own arms.

On about the seventh or eighth night in which Sir Perditus slept in the giant's house, he was awoken very late (or very early) by someone lightly touching his shoulder and whispering in his ear.

"Be quiet, please, Sir Knight. I did not mean to disturb you; but there is something I must show you." He awoke quickly and fully alert, from long habit of sleeping outdoors with one eye open, as the saying goes. Moonlight came in by his window, and he recognized the outline of the serving-girl who kept his chamber clean and brought him his victuals. "I will wait outside your door while you dress: your guard is asleep. Please, come quickly."

In a moment, he had pulled on his clothes and girt his sword and dagger on his waist. He slipped outside his door into the darkened hall, and felt a soft hand laid on his arm. He allowed himself to be guided around several turns, then they stopped and a lamp was lit. He asked no questions, but continued to follow her to a long-disused and dusty part of the castle which he had not seen before. She brought him to a barred double-door, and he helped her with the heavy beam which sealed it shut.

When the doors were opened, they entered what had plainly once been the chapel, but was now piled with all the flotsam and clutter from every part of the place for which the giant had no use. Thick dust lay upon it all, and cobwebs were in all the corners and crannies, glinting in the moonlight which came in through high, vaulted windows. The maidservant led him to the front of the sanctuary, and then off to the right to where the choir would have been. There, resting on the rearmost choir pew and leaning against the wall behind it, was a large painting covered in a sheet. She removed the cover and held her light up so he could see. And Sir Perditus beheld a picture of...himself, holding his own sword, but wearing a crown.

"God's Blood!" he exclaimed. "What is the meaning of this?"

She looked afraid, and pointed to the plaque attached to the bottom of the frame. It read "King Amicus VI" and gave a year of birth and of death which would have been a generation or so before Perditus's time. He stood silent, wondering.

"Forgive my impertinence, m'lord. But what do you know of your birth?"

He was thoughtful. "Nothing," he said. Except that my father was a lord of some kind. There was some calamity, I know not what, and my mother fled from him with me in her arms. I remember her, a little, but she died not very many years after. Of a broken heart, they say. I was fostered by a kind knight who had love enough to spare for me, but not enough substance to take an inheritance away from his own sons. Still, I am thankful for all he gave me, and I honored him as a father until the day of his passing."

"And your sword?" she asked.

"I had it from my mother. The only thing she saved of the ruin of her life. She said it was my father's."

He fell silent again, gazing at the portrait in wonder. "This is too strange not to have some deeper signification. This must be..."

"Your grandfather," she finished. "And you are our rightful lord." She knelt and, after a moment's hesitation, he placed his hand on her head in blessing.

They left the sad chapel and she returned him to his bedchamber, quickly now before the drug that she had put in the guard's goblet of wine wore off and he awoke. As she turned with a curtsy to leave his room, he stopped her, turning her back around to face him.

"There is one more thing I would ask of you. The people of this land--there seem to be far fewer than there should be."

She hid her face in horror. "He eats us," she whispered. He nodded. There seemed to be nothing left to say. Then another thought, a horrifying thought occurred to him.

"The food you have fed me...?"

"No," she said quickly. "He keeps that meat for himself. But the kitchen where it is prepared...." He nodded again, understanding what she could not say. He felt very sick.

He embraced her. "I thank you for this, and I know the terrible risk you have incurred to do so. If I prevail, by God's mercy, I shall not forget you." She said nothing, but squeezed him tightly, then wiped her eyes as she hurried from the room.

Sir Perditus spent the rest of the night in vigil, kneeling by his bed, and when he was summoned into the giant's presence the next day, he answered the summons in full harness, bearing shield and spear in hand.