The Incorporated Knight by L. Sprague de Camp, Catherine Crook de Camp Page A

burning of the heretics, three unrepentant monotheists from Pathenia. They reached the Great Temple of the Divine Pair just in time to take their places for the coronation. Emmerhard, torn between haste and the wish to move in a stately, dignified manner, was the last man to reach the barons' rank. He ventured a glance down the knights' rank, behind the barons, and nodded briefly as Sir Dambert greeted him with a small, discreet wave.
     
                  While Emmerhard was lining up with the other barons of the Empire, Doctor Calporio sought out the chest in Count Petz's strong room, wherein lay the remaining coronet. "Harmund!" shrieked Calporio.
     
                  "Aye, Doctor?" Rattling keys, the servant hastened into the storeroom.
     
                  "Why gavest thou the baron the old coronet?"
     
                  "He chose it himself, sir; none forbade—"
     
                  "Knowst not that I've been using the bauble for a mighty magical work? That it be charged with puissant sorcerous powers? Ah, demons of the Pit, with what ninnyhammers am I surrounded!"
     
                  Calporio dashed out with his purple robe flapping and, back in Count Petz's bedchamber, told his employer of this untoward development.
     
                  "Carry not on so, good my Doctor," said the count. "From what ye told me, the wearer must needs do certain things and make a wish, ere the demon imprisoned in the gem will act. Is't not so?"
     
                  "Aye, but—"
     
                  "Since Emmerhard knows not the formula, he cannot activate the demon. So let us calmly await his return of the object."
     
                  Calporio did not look convinced.
     
    -
     
                  Baron Emmerhard stood in the Great Temple, in a row with his fellow barons, while the ceremony ground on. It had already lasted two hours, and ahead lay at least two hours more of hymns and sermons and speeches and ritual acts of allegiance to the King. Valdhelm HI, resplendent in blue and gold, had just made his appearance before the altar.
     
                  The new king was a nondescript young man, pleasant enough but not, it would seem, very bright. Rumor had it that at times he fancied himself a watering pot. The effective rule of the kingdom would doubtless devolve into the hands of a cabal of ruthless, power-hungry magnates like the Duke of Tencteria, who had been acting as adviser to the crown prince. Emmerhard looked upon the future with gloom.
     
                  For the present, the baron's feelings were of suffocating boredom. Even the most glittering tableaux lose their glamor with time; and for Emmerhard, the coronation had long since passed that point. He was evidently not the only one so afflicted. Out of the comer of his eye he had seen Baron Randver of Sidinia sneak a quick gulp of water-of-life from a flask concealed in the sleeve of his robe.
     
                  Furthermore, the baron's feet hurt. The Emperor and his family were seated in the front pew, and behind them sat several kings of the Empire. Everyone else, however, had to stand. Moreover, the parchment strip inside the coronet began to cut painfully into Baron Emmerhard's forehead.
     
                  King Valdhelm was involved in a lengthy series of answers to questions from the Supreme Pontiff of the Holy Universal Dualistic Church, when Emmerhard's nose began to itch.
     
                  All eyes were fixed upon the King. Some, Emmerhard suspected, feared and some hoped that the young simpleton would get his responses mixed up, thus casting doubt upon the validity of the ceremony, or at least cause political embarrassment and get the reign off to an ill-omened start.
     
                  Making sure that no one was watching him, Baron Emmerhard gave his nose a furtive