“He became your dinh?”

“Dinh of the entire United States. AndJohnson got the job when Kennedy was gunned down.”

“Shot? Do you say so?” Roland wasinterested.

“Aye. Shot from hiding by a coward namedOswald.”

“And your United States was the mostpowerful country in the world.”

“Well, Russia was giving us a run for ourmoney when you grabbed me by the collar and yanked me into Mid-World, but yes,basically.”

“And the folk of your country choose theirdinh for themselves. It’s not done on account of fathership.”

“That’s right,” she said, a little warily.She half-expected Roland to blast the democratic system. Or laugh at it.

Instead he surprised her by saying, “Toquote Blaine the Mono, that sounds pretty swell.”

“Do me a favor and don’t quote him, Roland.Not now, not ever. Okay?”

“As you like,” he said, then went onwithout a pause, but in a much lower voice. “Keep my gun ready, may it do ya.”

“Does me fine,” she agreed at once, and inthe same low voice. It came out Does ‘ee ‘ine, because she didn’t evenwant to move her lips. She could feel that they were now being watched fromwithin the buildings that crowded this end of The King’s Way like shops andinns in a medieval village (or a movie set of one). She didn’t know if theywere humans, robots, or maybe just still-operating TV cameras, but she hadn’tmistrusted the feeling even before Roland spoke up and confirmed it. And she onlyhad to look at Oy’s head, tick-tocking back and forth like the pendulum in agrandfather clock, to know he felt it, too.

“And was he a good dinh, this Kennedy?”Roland asked, resuming his normal voice. It carried well in the silence.Susannah realized a rather lovely thing: for once she wasn’t cold, even thoughthis close to the roaring river the air was dank as well as chill. She was toofocused on the world around her to be cold. At least for the present.

“Well, not everyone thought so, certainlythe nut who shot him didn’t, but I did,” she said. “He told folks when he wasrunning that he meant to change things. Probably less than half the votersthought he meant it, because most politicians lie for the same reason a monkeyswings by his tail, which is to say because he can. But once he was elected, hestarted in doin the things he’d promised to do. There was a showdown over aplace called Cuba, and he was just as brave as… well, let’s just say you wouldhave been pleased to ride with him. When some folks saw just how serious hewas, the motherfucks hired the nut to shoot him.”

“Oz-walt.”

She nodded, not bothering to correct him,thinking that there was nothing to correct, really. Oz-walt. Oz. It allcame around again, didn’t it?

“And Johnson took over when Kennedy fell.”

“Yep.”

“How did he do?”

“Was too early to tell when I left, but hewas more the kind of fella used to playing the game. ‘Go along to get along,’we used to say. Do you ken it?”

“Yes, indeed,” he said. “And Susannah, Ithink we’ve arrived.” Roland brought Ho Fat’s Luxury Taxi to a stop. He stoodwith the handles wrapped in his fists, looking at Le Casse Roi Russe.

Two

Here The King’s Way ended, spilling into awide cobbled fore-court that had once no doubt been guarded as assiduously by theCrimson King’s men as Buckingham Palace was by the Beefeaters of QueenElizabeth. An eye that had faded only slightly over the years was painted onthe cobbles in scarlet. From ground-level, one could only assume what it was,but from the upper levels of the castle itself, Susannah guessed, the eye woulddominate the view to the northwest.

Same damn thing’s probably painted atevery other point of the compass, too, she thought.

Above this outer courtyard, stretchedbetween two deserted guard-towers, was a banner that looked freshly painted.Stenciled upon it (also in red, white, and blue) was this:

WELCOME, ROLAND ANDSUSANNAH!

(OY, TOO!)

KEEP ON ROCKIN’ INTHE FREE WORLD!

The castle beyond the inner courtyard (andthe caged river which here served as a moat) was indeed of dark red stoneblocks that had darkened to near-black over the years. Towers and turrets burstupward from the castle proper, swelling in a way that hurt the eye and seemedto defy gravity. The castle within these gaudy brackets was sober andundecorated except for the staring eye carved into the keystone arch above themain entrance. Two of the overhead walkways had fallen, littering the maincourtyard with shattered chunks of stone, but six others remained in place,crisscrossing at different levels in a way that made her think of turnpikeentrances and exits where a number of major highways met. As with the houses,the doors and windows were oddly narrow. Fat black rooks were perched on thesills of the windows and lined up along the overhead walkways, peering at them.

Susannah swung down from the rickshaw withRoland’s gun stuffed into her belt, within easy reach. She joined him, lookingat the main gate on this side of the moat. It stood open. Beyond it, a humpedstone bridge spanned the river. Beneath the bridge, dark water rushed through astone throat forty feet wide. The water smelled harsh and unpleasant, and whereit flowed around a number of fangy black rocks, the foam was yellow instead ofwhite.

“What do we do now?” she asked.

“Listen to those fellows, for a start,” hesaid, and nodded toward the main doors on the far side of the castle’s cobbledforecourt. The portals were ajar and through them now came twomen—perfectly ordinary men, not narrow funhouse fellows, as she had ratherexpected. When they were halfway across the forecourt, a third slipped out andscurried along after. None appeared to be armed, and as the two in frontapproached the bridge, she was not exactly flabbergasted to see they wereidentical twins. And the one behind looked the same: Caucasian, fairly tall,long black hair. Triplets, then: two to meet, and one for good luck. They werewearing jeans and heavy pea-coats of which she was instantly (and achingly)jealous. The two in front carried large wicker baskets by leather handles.

“Put spectacles and beards on them, andthey’d look exactly like Stephen King as he was when Eddie and I first methim,” Roland said in a low voice.

“Really? Say true?”

“Yes. Do you remember what I told you?”

“Let you do the talking.”

“And before victory comes temptation.Remember that, too.”

“I will. Roland, are you afraid of em?”

“I think there’s little to fear from thosethree. But be ready to shoot.”

“They don’t look armed.” Of course therewere those wicker baskets; anything might be in those.

“All the same, be ready.”

“Count on it,” said she.

Three

Even with the roar of the river rushingbeneath the bridge, they could hear the steady tock-tock of the strangers’bootheels. The two with the baskets advanced halfway across the bridge andstopped at its highest point. Here they put down their burdens side by side.The third man stopped on the castle side and stood with his empty hands claspeddecorously before him. Now Susannah could smell the cooked meat that wasundoubtedly in one of the boxes. Not long pork, either. Roast beef and chickenall mingled was what it smelled like to her, an aroma that was heaven-sent. Hermouth began to water.

“Hile, Roland of Gilead!” said thedark-haired man on their right. “Hile, Susannah of New York! Hile, Oy ofMid-World! Long days and pleasant nights!”

“One’s ugly and the others are worse,” hiscompanion remarked.

“Don’t mind him,” said the righthandStephen King look-alike.

“ ‘Don’t mind him,’” mocked the other,screwing his face up in a grimace so purposefully ugly that it was funny.

“May you have twice the number,” Rolandsaid, responding to the more polite of the two. He cocked his heel and made aperfunctory bow over his outstretched leg. Susannah curtsied in the Callafashion, spreading imaginary skirts. Oy sat by Roland’s left foot, only lookingat the two identical men on the bridge.