“The name is Rassendyll,” Finn said. “Rudolf Rassendyll. Am I unintentionally t
respassing? I’m a traveler from England, you see, and I have come here on a holiday. If I’ve ignorantly strayed onto your land, I offer my apologies, gentlemen.”
“No, no, you are welcome, sir,” said the younger man. “It was merely your appearance that took us by surprise. Allow me to introduce ourselves. This is Colonel Sapt, and my name is Fritz von Tarlenheim. We are in the service of the King of Ruritania.”
Finn took their hands in turn and while he was shaking the old man’s hand, Sapt exclaimed, “Rassendyll! By heaven, you’re of the Burlesdons?”
“Why, yes,” said Finn. “My brother Robert is now Lord Burlesdon.”
“By God,” said Sapt, “your hair and features betray you, sir.” He chuckled. “Remarkable! You know the story, Fritz?”
From the look on von Tarlenheim’s face, it was clear that he knew the story of Countess Amelia’s indiscretion, but was loath to admit to it for fear of bringing up an awkward subject. Finn took him off the hook.
“It seems the story of Countess Amelia and Prince Rudolf is as well known here as it is in London,” he said, smiling.
“Not only is the story well known,” said Sapt, “but if you stay here, sir, not a man or woman in all of Ruritania will doubt it!”
At that moment, another voice cried out from lower on the trail, “Fritz! Sapt! Where the devil have you two disappeared to?”
“It’s the king!” said von Tarlenheim.
“He’s in for a bit of a surprise,” said Sapt.
As Rudolf Elphberg came into view, Finn could not help staring at him. Though he had seen the hologram, it was still a shock. It was like looking in a mirror. Elphberg was his exact double down to the last dimple, save for the absence of a beard. He saw Finn and froze, staring at him open-mouthed. Finn had been prepared to feign a look of surprise, but found that in spite of being prepared, he didn’t have to fake it. After a moment, it occurred to him that protocol demanded a respectful bow.
“Good Lord!” said Elphberg. “Colonel, Fritz, who is this gentleman?”
Finn was about to answer when Colonel Sapt moved over to speak softly to the king. As Sapt whispered to him, Elphberg’s eyes grew even wider, then he burst out laughing.
“Strike me dead!” he said, still laughing as he came up to take Finn’s hand and slap him on the back. “Well met, cousin! For a moment, I thought that the effects of last night’s merriment had not quite worn off and I was seeing visions! Hah! Fritz, I’ll give a thousand crowns for a sight of Michael’s face when he sees the pair of us! You must come to Strelsau with me, Cousin Rudolf! Seeing one of me upsets my brother’s stomach, but seeing two would give him a stroke, for certain!”
“With all due respect to both Your Majesty and Mr. Rassendyll,” said Fritz von Tarlenheim, cautiously, “I question the wisdom in your cousin visiting Strelsau at the moment.”
“Oh, balderdash,” the king said. “Where’s the harm?”
“No, Fritz is right, Your Majesty,” said Sapt. “He mustn’t go.”
“I wish to cause no one embarrassment,” Finn said, feeling that he had to say it and hoping like hell they wouldn’t take him up on it. “I’ll leave Ruritania at once.”
“By thunder, you will do no such thing!” the king said. “Pay no mind to these two old women. At any rate, I insist that you dine with me tonight, happen what will afterward. Come, man, you don’t meet a new relation every day!”
“We dine sparingly tonight, Your Majesty,” Fritz said, a bit awkwardly.
“Not we!” the king said. “Not with our new cousin as our guest! Don’t look so alarmed, Fritz, you old stick in the mud. I’ll remember our early start tomorrow.”
“So shall I,” said Sapt, puffing out clouds of heavy Latakia smoke and frowning.
“Well then, I can count on you to roust my royal carcass out of bed, then,” said the king. “Come, Cousin Rudolf, the devil with the shooting for tonight. The deer avoid me like the plague. Besides, the two of us have much to talk about. I’ve no house of my own here, but my brother Michael lends us a place of his and we’ll make shift to entertain you there.”
They started back down the hill and walked for half an hour down the trail until they came to a wooden hunting lodge, a large, one-story building with a steep roof and a small, railed porch. Elphberg peppered Finn with countless questions about himself and his family, to which Finn responded cautiously, drawing on the subknowledge of his implant programming. Fortunately, Finn didn’t have to do much talking, as Rudolf practically never shut up. He was having a high old time while Sapt and von Tarlenheim walked behind them, clearly apprehensive about this sudden turn of events. For his part, Finn found the king to be a pleasant enough fellow, but completely wrapped up in himself. No sooner would he ask Finn a question than he would interrupt his answer to provide some anecdote about himself, his ancestors or somebody at court. He was not rude, exactly, just uncontrollably ebullient and lacking in any sort of concentration. His voice even sounded similar to Finn’s, although it had a pomposity to it and a slightly higher pitch.
There were only two servants at the lodge, an old man and an old woman, both as rustic as the cabin. They evinced considerable surprise at seeing two of their king, but they knew their place well enough not to question this amazing occurrence and to speak only when spoken to; Rudolf spoke to them only to give orders.
Dinner, apparently, was already being prepared, giving the impression that during his stay at the hunting lodge, the king had been as impatient a hunter as he was a conversationalist. They did not have to wait too long until it was ready, and then they sat down to a sumptuous feast of venison steak which had been smoked, potatoes roasted in an open fire, fresh baked bread and blackberry jam, baked beans, and Yorkshire pudding. Finn laid to with a hearty appetite, to the king’s obvious approval.
“We’re all good trenchermen, we Elphbergs, what? But wait, we’re eating dry! Wine, Josef! Wine, man! Are we beasts to eat without drinking? Break into that blackguard Michael’s cellar and bring us forth some bottles before I die of thirst!”
“Remember tomorrow, Your Majesty,” said Fritz. “The coronation.”