“When you enter his chamber, you must stand perfectly still with your hands by your side and wait for him to acknowledge you.”
“I can do that,” Trajan said as Humperdink’s aides walked him through the castle. They passed another pair of palace guards who made eye contact with Trajan.
“Blasted Guilderian,” Trajan heard them scoff under their breath, for the hundredth time since setting foot in Florin.
“But he will not speak,” Humperdink’s other aide instructed, “more likely he will motion to you with his eyes.”
“Yes,” the first aide agreed. “No, the King will not speak. He will listen only.”
“Is that his normal manner?” Trajan asked.
“Only recently, since news of Roberts’ death reached us.”
“Why is that?”
“It would be far too taxing in his weakened condition.”
“I wasn’t aware he was ill.”
“Yes, well, it’s not well known, you see…yet…but he is deteriorating rather quickly. You must understand how his pursuit of Roberts has so dearly affected his health.”
“I’m afraid I hadn’t. I understood your king to be quite young by comparison. Among my people he has a reputation for uncommon strength. Were these characterizations false?”
“Hardly.” The aide was defensive. “He was indeed the greatest hunter of his age.”
“And every bit as strong as his reputation claims,” added the other aide. “Even recently, but…,” he paused, looking to his partner.
“But the past thirty years of hunting Roberts, to no avail…”
“Not to mention the snide notes sent to him over the years by Roberts’ hand. Roberts used to mock him, you know.”
“I had heard of that,” Trajan said.
“Yes, well, all of that led the king to…ah…”
“Obsess,” the other aide interjected.
“Yes, I suppose that is the right word. It led the king to obsess over finding Roberts, even to bestow this ridiculous wealth on his killer…well, on you, I suppose.”
“Now that Roberts is dead then, I should think he would be pleased?” Trajan offered.
“Oh yes, he is pleased.”
“Yes, pleased indeed, even though it was at the hands of a bla –”
“At the hands of a Guilderian.”
“Yes, at the hands of a Guilderian, as it were. He is pleased that Roberts is dead. But having expended so much of himself over the last thirty-some years, it’s almost as if Roberts’ death has finally provided the inner peace he’s so desperately hunted for ever since the beautiful Queen Buttercup was murdered.”
“I see.”
“Yes. He was so overjoyed he went to his chambers and fell into the first deep sleep he had ages. But then…”
“But within days it all caught up with him. First he could hardly stand, then he could hardly eat or drink. His great mission was fulfilled, we believe, and now, sad as it is, he is simply ready to die in peace. Amazingly, his smile never fades.”
“In fact, we believe his dying wish is to hear from the man who killed Roberts.”
Trajan was shocked. “I’m so sorry for your impending loss.”
“Oh, yes, we thank you for that, but truly we are just happy to see him free of the torment. It can be quite grueling you know, carrying the burden of a life vengeance.”
“Yes, I understand.”
They reached the king’s bedchamber and the royal guards stood aside and at attention. The first aide knocked on the door.
“The Guilderian is here to present himself to the king.”
The door opened, and the king’s personal physician blocked their entrance.
“Are you the Guilderian?” he asked Trajan.
“I am, sir.”
“And have they made you aware of the king’s condition?”
“Indeed, and my deepest regrets, sir.”
“Very well, then. You will give him a brief account of your actions, and you must avoid saying anything that might agitate him. The men of the royal family have always had weak hearts, and this is now the case with our king, as well. Do not upset him.”
“I understand, sir.”
The physician moved out of the way and the aides led Trajan toward an opulent bed where King Humperdink lay resting. He looked at Trajan with a wide smile, though he did not lift his head off the pillow.
“My lord, we present to you Trajan of Guilder.”
With great effort Humperdink lifted his palm an inch off the bed, beckoning Trajan forward.
Trajan took three bold steps, stopped in a formal manner, and bowed low. “Sir, it is my pleasure to inform you that two months ago I fought and killed the Dread Pirate Roberts. His ship was sunk by Your Majesty’s navy, and his pirate band were killed as well. I hope it pleases Your Majesty to hear of it as much as it has pleased me to perform it.”
Humperdink smiled, placed his other hand over his heart in a manner of respect and nodded his approval. He lifted his face toward the high ceiling and closed his eyes. After a moment he opened them again, took a deep breath, and smiled at Trajan before lifting his hand weakly and gesturing to the scribe at the nearby desk.
The aide spoke. “Let it be recorded that King Humperdink bestows the reward for killing The Dread Pirate Roberts on Trajan of Guilder this day.”
Humperdink smiled and nodded his emphatic approval before closing his eyes again. The scribe stamped the seal of Humperdink on the paper, then rolled a small parchment and handed it to Trajan. The aide came up behind him and it was clear the meeting was adjourned. He bowed again and turned on his heel to leave.
As he walked out, the physician followed close behind and spoke with distain.
“Take your booty and consider yourself lucky, Guilderian. That scourge of a pirate was the devil himself.”
Trajan stopped, turned, and asked with concern, “You say the slightest excitement could kill him instantly?”
“Undoubtedly.”
Trajan turned back to Humperdink, took four quick steps toward him before his aides could respond and leaned in close to Humperdink’s ear, whispering, “Westley sends his regards.”
Humperdink’s eyes and mouth opened wide, a look of terror overtook his face.
Trajan walked swiftly out of the king’s bedchamber with spring in his step and his own smile to match, missing the last gasp of air to ever pass King Humperdink’s lips.
For their part, the Florinese do not remember that particular king with any great degree of either fondness or disdain. He wasn’t beloved as his father was, nor loathed as his son would later be; he is more or less inconsequential to their history but for the fact that he increased Florin’s navy tenfold, though his detractors point out it was at the expense of all else, and in order to settle royal debts his New Florin colonies were almost immediately sold at a loss to an enterprising French/Polynesian business conglomerate who stamped out all Florinese influence and renamed every island in the chain.
The only other noteworthy accomplishment of Humperdink’s reign was the fact that the seas were liberated from the terror of the Dread Pirate Roberts, though all historians are quick to point out that Humperdink never actually accomplished that himself. All Florinese, even to this day, are quick to add a scoff of frustration that Roberts’ death came, as they say, “At the hands of a blasted Guilderian.”
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