Fool(53)

 

“Drop those tapestries,” said Kent.

 

“Well, go grab some candles first,” said I. “It’ll be dark as Nyx’s[36] bunghole once we pull the tapestries.”

 

Kent left the solar and returned a few minutes later with a heavy iron candelabra with three lit candles. “A chambermaid is bringing us a brazier of charcoal and some bread and ale,” said the knight. “Old Gloucester’s a good sod.”

 

“And survivor enough not to speak his mind to the king about his daughters,” said I.

 

“I’ve learned some,” said Kent.

 

“Aye.” I turned to the Natural, who was playing with the wax dripping off the thick candles. “Drool, what was it you were saying? That bit with Edmund and Edgar plotting.”

 

“I don’t know, Pocket. I just says it, I don’t know what’s said. But Lord Edmund beats me when I talk in his voice. I’m an insult to nature and should be punished, says he.”

 

Kent shook his head like a great hound clearing his ears of water. “What sort of convoluted wickedness have you set in motion, Pocket?”

 

“Me? This isn’t my doing, this villainy is authored by that blackguard Edmund. But it will work for our plan. The conversations between Edgar and Edmund lie on the shelves of Drool’s mind like forgotten volumes in a library, we need only prompt the git to open them. Now, to it. Drool, say the words of Edgar when Edmund advises him to hide.”

 

And so we pried events out of Drool’s memory using cues like a cat’s paw,[37] and by the time we had warmed ourselves over the brazier and eaten our bread, we saw the pieces of Edmund’s treachery played out as in the voices of the original players.

 

“So Edmund wounded himself and claimed that Edgar did it,” said Kent. “Why didn’t he simply slay his brother?”

 

“He needs to assure his inheritance first, and a knife to the back would have been suspect,” said I. “Besides, Edgar is a formidable fighter—I don’t think Edmund would face him.”

 

“A traitor and a coward,” said Kent.

 

“And those are his assets,” said I. “Or we shall use them thus.” I patted Drool’s shoulder softly. “Good lad, excellent fool-craft. Now, I need you to see if you can say what I say in the voice of the bastard.”

 

“Aye, Pocket, I’ll give it a go.”

 

I said, “Oh, my sweet lady Regan, thou art more fair than moonlight, more radiant than the sun, more glorious than all the stars. I must have you or I shall surely die.”

 

In a wink Drool repeated my words back to me in the voice of Edmund of Gloucester, the intonation and desperation in the perfect key to unlock Regan’s affections, or so I’d wager.

 

“Howzat?” asked the git.

 

“Excellent,” said I.

 

“Uncanny,” said Kent. “How is it that Edmund let the Natural live? He must know he bears witness to his treachery.”

 

“That is an excellent question. Let’s go ask him, shall we?”

 

 

 

It occurred to me, as we made our way to Edmund’s quarters, that since I had seen the bastard, the power of my protection, being King Lear, had waned somewhat, while Edmund’s influence, and therefore immunity, had expanded when he became heir to Gloucester. In short, the deterrents to keep the bastard from murdering me had all but evaporated. I had only Kent’s sword and Edmund’s fear of ghostly retribution to protect me. The witches’ pouch of puffballs weighed heavily as a weapon, however.

 

A squire showed me to an antechamber off Castle Gloucester’s great hall.

 

“His lordship will receive only you, fool,” said the squire.

 

Kent looked ready to bully the boy but I held up a hand to stay him. “I’ll see that the door is left unlatched, good Caius. If I should call, please enter and dispatch the bastard with lethal vigor.”

 

I grinned at the spot-faced squire. “Unlikely,” said I. “Edmund holds me in very high esteem and I him. There will be little time between compliments to discuss business.” I breezed by the young knight and into the chamber where Edmund was alone, sitting at a writing desk.

 

I said, “Thou scaly scalawag of a corpse-gorged carrion worm, cease your feast on the bodies of your betters and receive the Black Fool before vengeful spirits come to wrench the twisted soul from your body and drag it into the darkest depths of hell for your treachery.”

 

“Oh, well spoken, fool,” said Edmund.

 

“You think so?”