The Mad King by Edgar Rice Burroughs (feel good books TXT) đź“•
"I am glad that I am not the mad king of Lutha," he saidas he paid the storekeeper for the gasoline he had just pur-chased and stepped into the gray roadster for whose greedymaw it was destined.
"Why, mein Herr?" asked the man.
"This notice practically gives immunity to whoever shootsdown the king," replied the traveler. "Worse still, it givessuch an account of the maniacal ferocity of the fugitive asto warrant anyone in shooting him on sight."
As the young man spoke the storekeeper had examinedhis face closely for the first time. A shrewd look came intothe man's ordinarily stolid countenance. He leaned forwardquite close to the other's ear.
"We of Lutha," he whispered, "love our 'mad king'--noreward could be offered that would tempt us to betray him.Even in self-protection we would not kill him, we of themountains who remember him as a boy and loved his fatherand hi
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It was not until the morning following the rebuff of Prince von der Tann that Peter of Blentz, Count Zellerndorf and Maenck heard of the occurrence. They were chagrined by the accident, for they were not ready to deliver their final stroke. The young officer of the guard had, of course, but followed his instructions—who would have thought that old Von der Tann would come to Blentz! That he suspected their motives seemed apparent, and now that his rebuff at the gates had aroused his ire and, doubtless, crystallized his suspicions, they might find in him a very ugly obstacle to the fruition of their plans.
With Von der Tann actively opposed to them, the value of having the king upon their side would be greatly mini-mized. The people and the army had every confidence in the old chancellor. Even if he opposed the king there was reason to believe that they might still side with him.
“What is to be done?” asked Zellerndorf. “Is there no way either to win or force Von der Tann to acquiescence?”
“I think we can accomplish it,” said Prince Peter, after a moment of thought. “Let us see Leopold. His mind has been prepared to receive almost gratefully any insinuations against the loyalty of Von der Tann. With proper evidence the king may easily be persuaded to order the chancellor’s arrest—possibly his execution as well.”
So they saw the king, only to meet a stubborn refusal upon the part of Leopold to accede to their suggestions. He still was madly in love with Von der Tann’s daughter, and he knew that a blow delivered at her father would only tend to increase her bitterness toward him. The conspirators were nonplussed.
They had looked for a comparatively easy road to the consummation of their desires. What in the world could be the cause of the king’s stubborn desire to protect the man they knew he feared, hated, and mistrusted with all the energy of his suspicious nature? It was the king himself who answered their unspoken question.
“I cannot believe in the disloyalty of Prince Ludwig,” he said, “nor could I, even if I desired it, take such drastic steps as you suggest. Some day the Princess Emma, his daughter, will be my queen.”
Count Zellerndorf was the first to grasp the possibilities that lay in the suggestion the king’s words carried.
“Your majesty,” he cried, “there is a way to unite all factions in Lutha. It would be better to insure the loyalty of Von der Tann through bonds of kinship than to an-tagonize him. Marry the Princess Emma at once.
“Wait, your majesty,” he added, as Leopold raised an objecting hand. “I am well informed as to the strange obsti-nacy of the princess, but for the welfare of the state—yes, for the sake of your very throne, sire—you should exert your royal prerogatives and command the Princess Emma to carry out the terms of your betrothal.”
“What do you mean, Zellerndorf?” asked the king.
“I mean, sire, that we should bring the princess here and compel her to marry you.”
Leopold shook his head. “You do not know her,” he said. “You do not know the Von der Tann nature—one cannot force a Von der Tann.”
“Pardon, sire,” urged Zellerndorf, “but I think it can be accomplished. If the Princess Emma knew that your majesty believed her father to be a traitor—that the order for his arrest and execution but awaited your signature—I doubt not that she would gladly become queen of Lutha, with her father’s life and liberty as a wedding gift.”
For several minutes no one spoke after Count Zellerndorf had ceased. Leopold sat looking at the toe of his boot. Peter of Blentz, Maenck, and the Austrian watched him intently. The possibilities of the plan were sinking deep into the minds of all four. At last the king rose. He was mumbling to himself as though unconscious of the presence of the others.
“She is a stubborn jade,” he mumbled. “It would be an excellent lesson for her. She needs to be taught that I am her king,” and then as though his conscience required a sop, “I shall be very good to her. Afterward she will be happy.” He turned toward Zellerndorf. “You think it can be done?”
“Most assuredly, your majesty. We shall take immediate steps to fetch the Princess Emma to Blentz,” and the Austrian rose and backed from the apartment lest the king change his mind. Prince Peter and Maenck followed him.
Princess Emma von der Tann sat in her boudoir in her father’s castle in the Old Forest. Except for servants, she was alone in the fortress, for Prince von der Tann was in Lustadt. Her mind was occupied with memories of the young American who had entered her life under such strange circumstances two years before—memories that had been awakened by the return of Lieutenant Otto Butzow to Lutha. He had come directly to her father and had been attached to the prince’s personal staff.
From him she had heard a great deal about Barney Custer, and the old interest, never a moment forgotten dur-ing these two years, was reawakened to all its former intensity.
Butzow had accompanied Prince Ludwig to Lustadt, but Princess Emma would not go with them. For two years she had not entered the capital, and much of that period had been spent in Paris. Only within the past fortnight had she returned to Lutha.
In the middle of the morning her reveries were interrupted by the entrance of a servant bearing a message. She had to read it twice before she could realize its purport; though it was plainly worded—the shock of it had stunned her. It was dated at Lustadt and signed by one of the palace functionaries:
Prince von der Tann has suffered a slight stroke. Do not be alarmed, but come at once. The two troopers who bear this message will act as your escort.
It required but a few minutes for the girl to change to her riding clothes, and when she ran down into the court she found her horse awaiting her in the hands of her groom, while close by two mounted troopers raised their hands to their helmets in salute.
A moment later the three clattered over the drawbridge and along the road that leads toward Lustadt. The escort rode a short distance behind the girl, and they were hard put to it to hold the mad pace which she set them.
A few miles from Tann the road forks. One branch leads toward the capital and the other winds over the hills in the direction of Blentz. The fork occurs within the boundaries of the Old Forest. Great trees overhang the winding road, casting a twilight shade even at high noon. It is a lonely spot, far from any habitation.
As the Princess Emma approached the fork she reined in her mount, for across the road to Lustadt a dozen horsemen barred her way. At first she thought nothing of it, turning her horse’s head to the righthand side of the road to pass the party, all of whom were in uniform; but as she did so one of the men reined directly in her path. The act was obviously intentional.
The girl looked quickly up into the man’s face, and her own went white. He who stopped her way was Captain Ernst Maenck. She had not seen the man for two years, but she had good cause to remember him as the governor of the castle of Blentz and the man who had attempted to take advantage of her helplessness when she had been a prisoner in Prince Peter’s fortress. Now she looked straight into the fellow’s eyes.
“Let me pass, please,” she said coldly.
“I am sorry,” replied Maenck with an evil smile; “but the king’s orders are that you accompany me to Blentz—the king is there.”
For answer the girl drove her spur into her mount’s side. The animal leaped forward, striking Maenck’s horse on the shoulder and half turning him aside, but the man clutched at the girl’s bridle-rein, and, seizing it, brought her to a stop.
“You may as well come voluntarily, for come you must,” he said. “It will be easier for you.”
“I shall not come voluntarily,” she replied. “If you take me to Blentz you will have to take me by force, and if my king is not sufficiently a gentleman to demand an accounting of you, I am at least more fortunate in the possession of a father who will.”
“Your father will scarce wish to question the acts of his king,” said Maenck—“his king and the husband of his daughter.”
“What do you mean?” she cried.
“That before you are many hours older, your highness, you will be queen of Lutha.”
The Princess Emma turned toward her tardy escort that had just arrived upon the scene.
“This person has stopped me,” she said, “and will not permit me to continue toward Lustadt. Make a way for me; you are armed!”
Maenck smiled. “Both of them are my men,” he explained.
The girl saw it all now—the whole scheme to lure her to Blentz. Even then, though, she could not believe the king had been one of the conspirators of the plot.
Weak as he was he was still a Rubinroth, and it was difficult for a Von der Tann to believe in the duplicity of a member of the house they had served so loyally for centuries. With bowed head the princess turned her horse into the road that led toward Blentz. Half the troopers preceded her, the balance following behind.
Maenck wondered at the promptness of her surrender.
“To be a queen—ah! that was the great temptation,” he thought but he did not know what was passing in the girl’s mind. She had seen that escape for the moment was impossible, and so had decided to bide her time until a more propitious chance should come. In silence she rode among her captors. The thought of being brought to Blentz alive was unbearable.
Somewhere along the road there would be an opportunity to escape. Her horse was fleet; with a short start he could easily outdistance these heavier cavalry animals and as a last resort she could—she must—find some way to end her life, rather than to be dragged to the altar beside Leopold of Lutha.
Since childhood Emma von der Tann had ridden these hilly roads. She knew every lane and bypath for miles around. She knew the short cuts, the gullies and ravines. She knew where one might, with a good jumper, save a wide detour, and as she rode toward Blentz she passed in review through her mind each of the many spots where a sudden break for liberty might have the best chance to succeed.
And at last she hit upon the place where a quick turn would take her from the main road into the roughest sort of going for one not familiar with the trail. Maenck and his soldiers had already partially relaxed their vigilance. The officer had come to the conclusion that his prisoner was resigned to her fate and that, after all, the fate of being forced to be
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