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Book: Robert Charrette - Arthur 01 - A Prince Among Men by Robert N. Charrette
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Authors: Robert N. Charrette
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seemingly magical effects can be explained by chemistry and psychological manipulation, participatory hallucination, and stuff like that. You get a bunch of people believing in a thing and telling each other about it, and then they start believing that it really does exist and when they see anything that could by the furthest stretch of the imagination be that thing, it is. That's the way a crocodile becomes a dragon. It's imagination at work, but it's not making it up out of whole cloth, you see?"
"I suppose."
"Right. It's the same sort of thing with the people in the stories. You take someone like Tam Lin. Here's a guy, a landed lord, that nobody has seen for a while. He's, like, disappeared. The song says he went to Faery, but who knows where he really went? Maybe the Faery riff is a cover story, to hide the fact that he was off doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing. Remember, the old-time folk believe in this Faery stuff. Who'd ask what he was really doing? Point is, he comes back and finds somebody, Fair Janet, has taken over his turf. Maybe he's been gone so long that he's been declared legally dead. His problem: he wants his turf back, but can't do it legally. Her problem: she's pregnant, and won't or can't tell who the father is. Maybe she doesn't know. Anyway, she needs protection. Maybe from the father himself, maybe from her father. This Tam Lin cooks up a scheme. By getting married, he gets back his claim on the turf, she gets to keep it too, and the kid gets a father. The Faery stuff gives it all a fancy gloss."
"You make it sound almost possible."
"No almost about it."
"So who's the Queen of Faeiy?"
He wished he knew. He also wished he had an answer for her.
A shadow fell across the table between them, chilling the conversation. John looked up to see a tall man partially silhouetted against the Cow's lights. The light leaked around from behind the stranger lit enough of his long face to show his somber expression. It was an official business kind of expression. John didn't recognize the man, but he got the impression that he should know him, or at least what organization he represented.
There was no corporate affiliation pin on the lapel of the stranger's long leather coat. The coat was dark on the shoulders, as if it was wet, but it hadn't been raining. If it had been, his hair, white-blond and finely styled, would have been plastered to his head.
The stranger waited several heartbeats before he spoke.
"Excuse me. I'm looking for John Reddy."
Police was John's first thought. Winston, his second. Was this about the fight? Had Winston.. . died? The man's intense stare didn't leave any doubt that he knew he'd found John Reddy, so there didn't seem to be any point in denying it.
"I'm John."
"I'd like to ask you a few questions."
"You a cop?" Kelley asked nervously. Her sidelong glance at John suggested that she had seen at least part of the afternoon's fight.
"Not exactly, miss. But I am part of an ongoing investigation."
"You with the feds?"
"I'm not really at liberty to say."
"Oh, man." Kelley looked frightened. "Look, John. I gotta go. Okay?" She started to shuck into her jacket, then looked nervously up at the cop.
"This doesn't concern you, miss," he said, and Kelley looked visibly relieved.
She gave John a look that was a cross between pity and sympathy. "I'll, like, I'll see you around."
She slid out of the booth, skinned past the cop, and practically ran out of the Cow. And that was the end of it. Thank you, Mr. Federal Policeman. Then again, maybe you just finished off what I had already started. In any case, here's another date shot to hell, another big score for John.
"May I sit down?" asked the man pointlessly as he sat in Kelley's vacated seat. Flashing something that looked like a badge and a federal ID card, he said, "My name is Bennett."
Mr. Bennett was not your usual federal investigator, or so John supposed. Weren't those guys supposed to be inconspicuous? Beyond his
"I suppose."
"Right. It's the same sort of thing with the people in the stories. You take someone like Tam Lin. Here's a guy, a landed lord, that nobody has seen for a while. He's, like, disappeared. The song says he went to Faery, but who knows where he really went? Maybe the Faery riff is a cover story, to hide the fact that he was off doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing. Remember, the old-time folk believe in this Faery stuff. Who'd ask what he was really doing? Point is, he comes back and finds somebody, Fair Janet, has taken over his turf. Maybe he's been gone so long that he's been declared legally dead. His problem: he wants his turf back, but can't do it legally. Her problem: she's pregnant, and won't or can't tell who the father is. Maybe she doesn't know. Anyway, she needs protection. Maybe from the father himself, maybe from her father. This Tam Lin cooks up a scheme. By getting married, he gets back his claim on the turf, she gets to keep it too, and the kid gets a father. The Faery stuff gives it all a fancy gloss."
"You make it sound almost possible."
"No almost about it."
"So who's the Queen of Faeiy?"
He wished he knew. He also wished he had an answer for her.
A shadow fell across the table between them, chilling the conversation. John looked up to see a tall man partially silhouetted against the Cow's lights. The light leaked around from behind the stranger lit enough of his long face to show his somber expression. It was an official business kind of expression. John didn't recognize the man, but he got the impression that he should know him, or at least what organization he represented.
There was no corporate affiliation pin on the lapel of the stranger's long leather coat. The coat was dark on the shoulders, as if it was wet, but it hadn't been raining. If it had been, his hair, white-blond and finely styled, would have been plastered to his head.
The stranger waited several heartbeats before he spoke.
"Excuse me. I'm looking for John Reddy."
Police was John's first thought. Winston, his second. Was this about the fight? Had Winston.. . died? The man's intense stare didn't leave any doubt that he knew he'd found John Reddy, so there didn't seem to be any point in denying it.
"I'm John."
"I'd like to ask you a few questions."
"You a cop?" Kelley asked nervously. Her sidelong glance at John suggested that she had seen at least part of the afternoon's fight.
"Not exactly, miss. But I am part of an ongoing investigation."
"You with the feds?"
"I'm not really at liberty to say."
"Oh, man." Kelley looked frightened. "Look, John. I gotta go. Okay?" She started to shuck into her jacket, then looked nervously up at the cop.
"This doesn't concern you, miss," he said, and Kelley looked visibly relieved.
She gave John a look that was a cross between pity and sympathy. "I'll, like, I'll see you around."
She slid out of the booth, skinned past the cop, and practically ran out of the Cow. And that was the end of it. Thank you, Mr. Federal Policeman. Then again, maybe you just finished off what I had already started. In any case, here's another date shot to hell, another big score for John.
"May I sit down?" asked the man pointlessly as he sat in Kelley's vacated seat. Flashing something that looked like a badge and a federal ID card, he said, "My name is Bennett."
Mr. Bennett was not your usual federal investigator, or so John supposed. Weren't those guys supposed to be inconspicuous? Beyond his
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