Free [Kelvin 03] - Chimaera's Copper (with Robert E. Margroff) by Piers Anthony

this, preferring normally to be soft and feminine, but she was desperate.

    He went to the chamber door as if dismissed by royalty. Without another word, he exited.

    Heln lay back on her pillow in the big four-poster bed and sighed. How totally unlike her! But it was necessary. Why have a sister-in-law like Jon if not to learn from her?

    Yes, she thought dreamily. Yes, now we'll all know the truth of this matter.

    But then a dark thought came, unbidden and bothersome. "Suppose it is Rowforth?" she whispered to the bust of Rufurt's grandfather. "Suppose it is that evil king Kelvin encountered? What of Kelvin? What of your grandson? What of all Kelvin's gains?"

    The bust made no reply. Try as she might, Heln could not make it wink.

    "How's she doing, Doctor?" Jon stood outside the chamber and caught the royal physician exiting. She had been standing there throughout his examination, knowing how embarrassed Heln was about her swollen abdomen.

    "Delusional, I'm afraid. She has this fear that other-frame folk are coming here. She thinks our king is the one your brother helped defeat in the other frame."

    "I think she's right," Jon said. "As a matter of fact, I know it."

    Dr. Sterk shivered the full length of his skinny body. Disappointment was on his face. He had wanted agreement. "She wants me to look at the king's ears." "So do I." Jon felt there was no sense in denying it. If she was to be thrown into a dungeon, too bad. In the meantime, she would hold the sling she had, with the rock that was just the right size for a false king. "There's risk? "

    "With royalty, Mrs. Crumb, there's always risk."

    "Not with the real King Rufurt. Remember how he laughed? Remember how he enjoyed a joke? This king seems never to enjoy anything."

    "I remember his manner. Perhaps some sorcery has brought about a change."

    "You will find out?"

    "If he'll let me. Yes, yes, I will try."

    "When, Doctor?" They had to pin him down. Otherwise he'd be stalling forever. Men were like that, and doctors especially.

    "I suppose I must request that he have an examination. If he refuses--"

    "Tell him it's his regular examination. He won't know."

    "I... sup... pose." He seemed to speak ineffective volumes in the pauses.

    "Now, Doctor."

    "Oh, very well." With as much dignity as a man with birdlike beak and ungainly gait could command, he left her for the royal quarters.

    Jon sighed. For worse or much worse. I hope for all our sakes I'm wrong. But if I'm right... gods help all of us!

    Dr. Sterk entered the royal bedchamber and stopped. The king stood there wearing his stockelcap and nothing else.

    "Well, Doctor? I haven't all day!"

    Knowing the king's usual routines, Dr. Sterk doubted that. Nevertheless that was his signal to go to work. He tested the king's muscle tone (excellent), listened to his heart (beating strongly), and tested his breathing (powerful, like that of an athlete). He checked everything that he was supposed to. Except for the ears.

    "Well?"

    "Your ears, Your Majesty."

    "What about my ears?"

    "You're wearing a stockelcap. I need to look in your ears for bugs, and--"

    "You think I've got bugs in my ears!"

    "Check your hearing. It's just the regular checkup, Your Majesty."

    "Oh, very well!" The king whipped off the covering.

    Dr. Sterk blinked. Those women had been so convincing! But here were two ears as pointed as he had ever seen. A little bit cleaner than he expected, and not quite so hairy, but--

    "What are you doing there?"

    "Nothing, Your Majesty." He swallowed, trying to remember that he was the doctor. He really had to ask it. "Why, Your Majesty, wear the stockelcap?" Certainly it wasn't because of developing baldness or gray hair.

    "Why? Because I want to!"

    "Oh." So he wouldn't find out! "I caught a little head cold in the ruins. Started giving me the sniffles. But they're gone now."

    "Y-yes." Now just what was a head cold, and what was sniffles? Some sort of curse? But the king was right about one