'd come at all, Susannah, Mia had told her. For the King can fascinate, even at a distance.
It was that pulsing red glow of which she had been speaking, but-
"It's gone!" she said to Roland. "The red light from the castle-
Forge of the King, she called it! It's gone! We haven't seen it once in all this time!"
"No," he said, and this time his smile was warmer. "I believe it must have stopped at the same time we ended the Breakers"
work. The Forge of the King has gone out, Susannah. Forever, if the gods are good. That much we have done, although it has cost us much."
That afternoon they came to Le Casse Roi Russe, which turned out not to be entirely deserted, after all.
Part Four:THE WHITE LANDS OF EMPATHICA Chapter III:THE CASTLE OF THE CRIMSON KING
ONE
They were a mile from the castle and the roar of the unseen river had become very loud when bunting and posters began to appear. The bunting consisted of red, white, and blue swags-the kind Susannah associated with Memorial Day parades and small-town Main Streets on the Fourth of July. On the facades of these narrow, secretive houses and the fronts of shops long closed and emptied from basement to attic, such decoration looked like rouge on the cheeks of a decaying corpse.
The faces on the posters were all too familiar to her.
Richard Nixon and Henry Cabot Lodge flashed V's-for-victory and car-salesmen grins (NIXON/LODGE, BECAUSE THE WORK's NOT DONE, these read). John Kennedy and Lyndon Johnson stood with their arms around each other and their free hands raised.
Below their feet was the bold proclamation WE STAND ON THE EDGE OF A NEW FRONTIER.
"Any idea who won?" Roland asked over his shoulder.
Susannah was currently riding in Ho Fat's Luxury Taxi, taking in the sights (and wishing for a sweater: even a light cardigan would do her just fine, by God).
"Oh, yes," she said. There was no doubt in her mind that these posters had been mounted for her benefit. "Kennedy did."
"He became your dinh?"
"Dinh of the entire United States. And Johnson got the job when Kennedy was gunned down."
"Shot? Do you say so?" Roland was interested.
"Aye. Shot from hiding by a coward named Oswald."
"And your United States was the most powerful country in the world."
"Well, Russia was giving us a run for our money when you grabbed me by the collar and yanked me into Mid-World, but yes, basically."
"And the folk of your country choose their dinh 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, "To quote 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 on without a pause, but in a much lower voice. "Keep my gun ready, may it do ya."
"Does me fine," she agreed at once, and in the same low voice. It came out Does 'ee 'ine, because she didn't even want to move her lips. She could feel that they were now being watched from within the buildings that crowded this end of The King's Way like shops and inns in a medieval village (or a movie set of one). She didn't know if they were humans, robots, or maybe just still-operating TV cameras, but she hadn't mistrusted the feeling even before Roland spoke up and confirmed it. And she only had to look at Oy's head, ticktocking back and forth like the pendulum in a grandfather 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 though this close to the roaring river the air was dank as well as chill. She was too focused on the world around her to be cold. At least for the present.
"Well, not everyone thought so, certainly the nut who shot him didn't, but I did," she said. "He told folks when he was running that he meant to change things. Probably less than half the voters thought he meant it, because most politicians lie for the same reason a monkey swings by his tail, which is to say because he can. But once he was elected, he started in doin the things he'd promised to do. There was a showdown over a olace