Standard Fanfic Disclaimer that wouldn't last ten seconds in a court of law: these aren't my characters. I'm just borrowing them for, um, typing practice. Mais oui, that's it, typing practice. They will be returned to their original owners relatively undamaged, or at least suitably bandaged. Based on characters and situations from The Quest (created by Juanita Bartlett and Stephen J. Cannell) and The Man from U.N.C.L.E. (created by Sam Rolfe). Originally published in the fanzine Diamonds and Dynamite #3, published by Agent with Style.
A Knight Without a Quest
The Quest/The Man from U.N.C.L.E.
The first story of the UNCLE's Knight series
by Susan M. M.
Sir Cody J. Villaire-d'Estanville wandered aimlessly through the palace gardens. He was a handsome man in his late twenties, with a neatly trimmed black mustache and short black hair. His skin was coffee-brown, and his eyes were the color of chocolate. If asked, he would say he was thinking. Moping would have been a more honest description.
A year ago, he'd been plain Cody Johnson, a semi-retired con artist trying - not very hard - to go straight. Then he'd gotten an invitation to go to Europe, to a postage-stamp kingdom he'd never heard of. He'd reached the airplane a few feet ahead of an angry scam victim. Sir Edward had looked at him and said, "My God, you're Black." And before dashing into the safety of the plane, he'd retorted, "Yeah, ain't it beautiful, baby?" Twenty-four hours later, he was Sir Cody Johnson, royal knight and heir-candidate to the throne of Glendora. He'd spent the next six months racing around the globe. He and the others - Sir Daniel Underwood, Sir Arthur Henley, Lady Caroline Welby - had gone on a quest to see who would be the next king or queen of Glendora, a small Mediterrean kingdom not far from Monaco and Genovia. It had been the wildest time of his life. But now ... now it was over.
Dan and Carrie had been named co-winners of the quest. They'd been married; Cody had been best man and Art had walked Carrie down the aisle. King Charles-Philippe had not abdicated. Instead, following medieval French custom, he had crowned Dan and Carrie the new king and queen of Glendora in his lifetime, so there would be no confusion or delay about the succession when he died. And now ... now Cody was a knight without a quest.
He had a suite in the palace. He'd changed his name, to mark the fact he was a member of the royal family. He wore tuxedoes. He gamed at local casinos, attended embassy balls and state dinners. And he was bored stiff.
There was nothing for him in Glendora. If he went back to the USA, like Art had, what would he do? If he went back to running cons, it would cause a diplomatic incident if he were arrested; he didn't want to embarrass the king. Either king.
"Sir Cody?"
The Black knight turned and saw a palace guard.
"S'il vous plaît, monseigneur, Their Majesties wish to see you," the guard told him.
Cody thanked the guard and went back into the castle. Five minutes later, he knocked on the door of the king's private office.
"Entrez-vous," he heard King Daniel call out.
"You rang?" Cody called out jauntily. He stopped short. 'Their Majesties' weren't Dan and Carrie, but King Daniel and King Charles-Philippe. The old king sat behind the desk. The new king sat in a chair to the right of the desk. They wore matching three-piece suits. Both wore a cloisonné lapel pin of the Glendoran flag. A total stranger sat in one of the two chairs in front of the desk. He was a middle-aged man, with a craggy face and thick, gray hair, wearing gray pinstripe suit that had clearly been hand-tailored in London.
Cody gave a half-bow to the kings. He nodded politely to the stranger.
"Sir Cody, permit me to introduce Sir John Raleigh," the white-haired king said. The octogenarian was slender. "Sir John, my young kinsman, Sir Cody Villaire-d'Estanville."
"A pleasure to meet you, Sir Cody." Sir John shook his hand. He spoke with an English accent.
"Enchanté," Cody replied.
Charles-Philippe gestured at the empty chair. "Sir John has a proposition that might be of interest to you."
"Tell me, Sir Cody, are you familiar with the United Network Command for Law Enforcement?" Sir John asked.
"No, I can't say that I am." Cody sat down.
"We're chartered under the United Nations. Think of us as a more efficient, more flexible version of Interpol," Sir John explained. "We're always on the lookout for good people. And you, Sir Cody, have skills we would find useful. Very useful."
Cody kept his voice neutral and non-committal. "I've never really considered a career in law enforcement." And given his background, Dan should know better than to even ask him.
"As a member of the royal family, you have diplomatic immunity. That's priceless for an agent. You're courageous and clever: few men faced Count Dardinay and lived to tell of it. Far fewer outwitted him. And your skills from your previous career are -"
"You don't want a police officer," Cody realized. "You want a spy."
"More importantly, my boy, we want a spy," Charles-Philippe said.
Dan leaned forward. He was Cody's age, a handsome muscular man with blue eyes and light brown hair. "Here's the deal. You take UNCLE training. If you pass basic training - and there's no reason to think you wouldn't - you join UNCLE. If it's not to your taste, you can quit any time. You know you've always got a place here at the palace. If you like it, you spend a few years as an UNCLE agent, then come back and take over our espionage bureau."
Cody looked Dan in the eye. This wasn't busywork to relieve his boredom. This was a career - a career serving his king and his adopted country. "Is this an order, Your Majesty?"
Both kings shook their heads.
"An invitation, my boy, not an order."
"I won't order you, coz." Dan's blue eyes locked gazes with Cody's brown eyes. "But I'm going to be surrounded by yes men the rest of my life. The head of the espionage bureau needs to be someone Carrie and I can trust completely, without hesitation. It needs to be someone who'll tell me what I need to know, not what they think I want to hear, and someone who's not afraid to tell me 'no' if they have to."
Cody thought hard. A job that would let him use his wit, his charm, as well as his more nefarious skills. A job that took advantage of the fact that, like James Bond, he looked damned good in a tuxedo. A job that would give him the adrenalin rush that had been missing since the quest had ended. No, not a job. A new quest, one that would last a lifetime.
"A votre service, mon roi. Mes rois," he pledged in mispronounced French. At your service, my king. My kings.
And now ... now he wasn't bored. Chased, shot at, kidnapped, but not bored.