by Jack Vance
"I must fetch tools and rivets."
"Be quick!"
Elric went to the smithy for tools. Aillas and his troop had already slipped away up the lane toward Fair Aprillion, to prepare an ambush.
Half an hour passed. The gates opened; Lord Halies rode forth in his carriage with a guard of eight soldiers.
Yane and Elric's uncle and cousins stepped out into the lane behind the column. They bent their bows, loosed arrows: once, twice. The others, who had remained concealed, rushed out and in fifteen seconds the killing was done. Lord Halies was disarmed and, ashen-faced, pulled from the carriage.
Now well-armed, the troop returned to the square. Hunolt stood over Elric, ensuring that he repaired the cauldron at best speed. At near range Bode, Quails, Yane and all the others who carried bows, loosed a flight of arrows and six more of Halies' paladins died.
Elric struck Hunolt's foot with his hammer; Hunolt screamed and sagged on the broken foot. Elric struck at the other foot with even greater force, to crush it flat, and Hunolt fell writhing upon his back.
Elric released his father from the cage. "Fill the cauldron!" cried Elric. "Bring the faggots!" He dragged Halies to the cauldron. "You ordained a boiling; you shall have one!"
Halies staggered and stared aghast at the cauldron. He babbled entreaties, then screamed threats, to no effect. He was trussed up, knees high and seated in the cauldron, and Hunolt was placed beside him. Water filled the cauldron to cover their chests and fire was given to the faggots. Around the cauldron the folk of Vervold leapt and capered in a delirium of excitement. Presently they joined hands and danced around the cauldron in three concentric circles.
Two days later Aillas and his troop departed Vervold. They wore good clothes, boots of soft leather and carried corselets of the finest chain mail. Their horses were the best the stable at Fair Aprillion could provide, and in their saddle-bags they carried gold and silver.
Their number was now seven. At a banquet Aillas had advised the village elders to select one from among their number to serve as their new lord. "Otherwise another lord of the neighborhood will arrive with his troops, and declare himself lord of the domain."
"The prospect has troubled us," said the smith. "Still, we at the village are too close; we know all each other's secrets and none could command a proper respect. We prefer a strong and honest stranger for the office: one of good heart and generous spirit, one who will mete fair justice, levy light rents and abuse his privileges no more than absolutely necessary. In short, we ask that you yourself, Sir Aillas, become the new lord of Fair Aprillion and its domains."
"Not I," said Aillas. "I have urgent deeds to do, and already I am late. Choose someone else to serve you."
"Sir Garstang then would be our choice!"
"Well chosen," said Aillas. "He is of noble blood; he is brave and generous."
"Not I," said Sir Garstang. "I have domains of my own elsewhere, which I am anxious to see once more."
"Well then, what of you others?"
"Not I," said Bode. "I am a restless man. What I seek is to be found in the far places."
"Not I," said Yane. "I am one for the tavern, not the hall. I would shame you with my wenching and revelry."
"Not I," said Cargus. "You would not wish a philosopher for your lord."
"Nor a bastard Goth," said Faurfisk.
Quails spoke in a thoughtful voice: "It would seem that I am the only qualified possibility. I am noble, like all Irishmen; I am just, forbearing, honorable; I also play the lute and sing, and so I can enliven the village festivals with frolics and antics. I am generous but not grandiose. At marriages and hangings I am sober and reverent; ordinarily I am easy, gay and lightsome.
Further—"
"Enough, enough!" cried Aillas. "Plainly, you are the man for the job. Lord Quails, give us leave to depart your domain!"
"Sir, the permission is yours, and my good wishes go with you. I will often wonder as to how you are faring, and my Irish wildness will give me a twinge, but on winter nights, when rain spits at the windows, I will hold my feet to the fire, drink red wine, and be happy that I am Lord Quails of Fair Aprillion."
The seven rode south along an old road which, according to folk at Vervold, swung southwest around the Forest of Tan-trevalles, then turned south eventually to become the Trompada. No one at Vervold had ventured far in this direction—nor any other direction in most cases—and no one could offer sensible information as to what might be encountered.
For a space the road went by haphazard curves and swoops; left, right, up hill, down dale, following a placid river for a time, then angling away through the dim forest. Peasants tilled the meadows and herded cattle. Ten miles from Vervold the peasants had become a different sort: dark of hair and eye, slight of physique, wary to the point of hostility.
As the day progressed the land became harsh, the hills abrupt, the meadows stony, the tillages were less frequent. Late in the afternoon they came to a hamlet, no more than a group of farmhouses built close together for mutual protection and simple conviviality. Aillas paid over a gold piece to the patriarch of one household; in return the troop was provided a great supper of pork grilled over vine cuttings, broad beans and onions, oat-bread and wine. The horses were fed hay and stabled in a barn. The patriarch sat for a time with the group to make sure that all ate well and relaxed his taciturnity, so much that he put questions to Aillas: "What sort of folk might you be?"
Aillas pointed around the group: "A Goth. A Celt. Ulfish yonder. There a Galician"—this was Cargus—"and a knight of Lyonesse. I am Troice. We are a mixed group, assembled, if the truth be known, against our will by the Ska."
"I have heard speak of the Ska," said the old man. "They will never dare set foot in these parts. We are not many, but we are furious when aroused."
"We wish you long life," said Aillas, "and many happy feasts like that you have set before us tonight."
"Bah, that was but a hasty collation arranged for unexpected guests. Next time give us notice of your coming."
"Nothing would suit us better," said Aillas. "Still, it is a long hard way, and we are not home yet. What lies along the road to the south?"
"We hear conflicting reports. Some speak of ghosts, others of ogres. Some have been harassed by bandits, others complain of imps riding like knights on armored herons. It is hard to separate fact from hysteria; I can only recommend caution."
The road became no more than a wide trail, winding south into hazy distance. The Forest of Tantrevalles could be seen to the left and the stone cliffs of the Teach tac Teach rose sheer to the right. The farmsteads finally disappeared, though occasional huts and a ruined castle used as a shelter for sheep testified to a sparse population. In one of the old huts the seven stopped to take shelter for the night.
The great forest here loomed close at hand. At intervals Aillas heard strange sounds from the forest which sent tingles along his skin. Scharis stood listening in fascination, and Aillas asked what he heard.
"Can you not hear it?" asked Scharis, his eyes glowing. "It is music; I have never heard its like before."
Aillas listened for a moment. "I hear nothing."
"It comes and goes. Now it has stopped."
"Are you sure it isn't the wind?"
"What wind? The night is calm."
"If it is music, you should not listen. In these parts magic is always close, to the peril of ordinary men."
With a trace of impatience Scharis asked: "How can I not listen to what I want to hear? When it tells me things I want to know?"
"This goes beyond me," said Aillas. He rose to his feet. "1 am for bed. Tomorrow we ride long and far."
Aillas set watches, marking off two-hour periods by the sweep of the stars. Bode took the first watch alone, then Garstang and Faurfisk, then Yane and Cargus and finally Aillas and Scharis; and the troop made themselves as comfortable as possible. Almost reluctantly Scharis settled himself, but quickly fell asleep and Aillas gratefully did the same.
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When Arcturus reached its appointed place, Aillas and Scharis were aroused and began their sentry duty. Aillas noticed that Scharis no longer gave his attention to sounds from the night. Aillas asked softly: "What of the music? Do you hear it still?"
"No. It moved away even before I slept."
"I wish I might have heard it."
"That might not serve you well."
"How so?"
"You might become as I am, to your sorrow."
Aillas laughed, if somewhat uneasily. "You are not the worst of men. How could I so damage myself?"
Scharis stared into the fire. At last he spoke, half-musing. "For a fact, I am ordinary enough—if anything, much too ordinary. My fault is this: I am easily distracted by quirks and fancies. As you know, I hear inaudible music. Sometimes when I look across the landscape, I glimpse a flicker of motion; when I look in earnest it moves just past the edge of vision. If you were like me, your quest might be delayed or lost and so your question is answered."
Aillas stirred the fire. "I sometimes have sensations—whims, fancies, whatever you call them—of the same kind. I don't give them much thought. They are not so insistent as to cause me concern."
Scharis laughed humorlessly. "Sometimes I think I am mad. Sometimes I am afraid. There are beauties too large to be borne, unless one is eternal." He stared into the fire and gave a sudden nod. "Yes, that is the message of the music."
Aillas spoke uncomfortably. "Scharis, my dear fellow, I think you are having hallucinations. You are over-imaginative; it is as simple as that!"
"How could I imagine so grandly? I heard it, you did not. There are three possibilities. Either my mind is playing me tricks, as you suggest; or, secondly, my perceptions are more acute than yours; or, thirdly—and this is the frightening thought— the music is meant for me alone."
Aillas made a skeptical sound. "Truly, you would do best to put these strange sounds from your mind. If men were intended to probe such mysteries, or if such mysteries actually exist, surely we would know more about them."
"Possibly so."
"Tell me when next these perceptions come on you."
"If you wish."
Dawn came slowly, from gray through pearl to peach. By the time the sun had appeared the seven were on their way, through a pleasant if deserted landscape. At noon they came to a river which Aillas thought must be the Siss on its way to join the Gloden, and the rest of the day they followed the riverbank south. Halfway through the afternoon heavy clouds drifted across the sky. A damp cold wind began to blow, carrying the sound of distant thunder.
Close on sunset the road arrived at a stone bridge of five arches and a crossroads, where the East-West Road, emerging from Forest Tantrevalles, crossed the Trompada and continued through a cleft in the mountains to end at Oa'ldes in South Ulfland. Beside the crossroads, with the rain starting to fall in earnest, the seven came upon an inn, the Star and Unicorn. They took their horses to the stable and entered the inn, to find a cheerful fire burning in a massive fireplace. Behind a counter stood a tall thin man, bald of pate with a long black beard overhanging his chest, a long nose overhanging his beard, and a pair of wide black eyes half-overhung by eyelids. Beside the fire three men crouched like conspirators over their beer, the brims of low-crowned black hats shading their faces. At another table a man with a thin high-bridged nose and a fine auburn mustache, wearing handsome garments of dark blue and umber, sat alone.
Aillas spoke to the innkeeper. "We will want lodging for the night and the best you can provide in the way of supper. Also, if you please, send someone to care for our horses."
The innkeeper bowed politely, but without warmth. "We shall do our best to fulfill your desires."
The seven went to sit before the fire and the innkeeper brought wine. The three men hunching over their table inspected them covertly and muttered among themselves. The gentleman in dark blue and umber, after a single glance, returned to his private reflections. The seven, relaxing by the fire, drank wine with easy throats. Presently Yane called the service girl to his side. "Now, poppet, how many pitchers of wine have you served us?"
"Three, sir."
"Correct! Now each time you bring a pitcher to the table you must come to me and pronounce its number. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir."
The landlord strode on jackstraw legs across the room. "What is the trouble, sir?"
"No trouble whatever. The girl tallies the wine as we drink it, and there can be no mistakes in the score."
"Bah! You must not addle the creature's mind with such calculations! I keep score yonder!"
"And I do the same here, and the girl keeps a running balance between us."
The landlord threw his arms in the air and stalked off to his kitchen, from which he presently served the supper. The two service girls, standing somber and watchful in the shadows, came forward deftly to refill goblets and bring fresh pitchers, each time chanting its number to Yane, while the landlord, again leaning sourly behind his counter, kept a parallel score and wondered if he dared water the wine.
Aillas, who drank as much as any, leaned back in his chair and contemplated his comrades as they sat at ease. Garstang, no matter what the circumstances, might never disguise his gentility. Bode, liberated by the wine, forgot his fearsome countenance to become unexpectedly droll. Scharis, like Aillas, sat back in his chair enjoying the comfort. Faurfisk told coarse anecdotes with great gusto and teased the serving girls. Yane spoke little but seemed to take a sardonic pleasure in the high spirits of his friends. Cargus, on the other hand, stared morosely into the fire. Aillas, sitting beside him, finally asked: "What troubles you that your thoughts bring gloom upon you?"
"I think a mixture of thoughts," said Cargus. "They come at me in a medley. I remember old Galicia, and my father and mother, and how I wandered away from their old age when I might have stayed and sweetened their days. I reflect on the Ska and their harsh habits. I think of my immediate condition with food in my belly, gold in my pouch, and my good companions around me, which gives me to ponder the fluxes of life and the brevity of such moments as these; and now you know the cause for my melancholy."
"That is clear enough," said Aillas. "For my part I am happy that we sit here rather than out in the rain; but I am never free of the rage which smoulders in my bones: perhaps it will never leave me despite all revenge."
"You are still young," said Cargus. "Tranquility will come in time."
"As to that I can't say. Vindictiveness may be a graceless emotion, but I will never rest until I redress certain deeds done upon me."
"I much prefer you as a friend than an enemy," said Cargus.
The two men fell silent. The gentleman in umber and dark blue who had been sitting quietly to the side, rose to his feet and approached Aillas. "Sir, I notice that you and your companions conduct yourselves in the manner of gentlemen, tempering your enjoyment with dignity. Allow me, if you will, to utter a probably unnecessary warning."
"Speak, by all means."
"The two girls yonder are patiently waiting. They are less demure than they seem. When you rise to retire, the older will solicit you to intimacy. While she entertains you with her meager equipment, the other rifles your purse. They share the gleanings with the landlord."
"Incredible! They are so small and thin!"
The gentleman smiled ruefully. "This was my own view when last I drank here to excess. Good night, sir."
The gentleman went off to his chamber. Aillas conveyed the intelligence to his companions; the two girls faded away into the shadows, and the landlord brought no more fuel to the fire. Presently the seven staggered off to the straw pallets which had been laid down for them, and so, with the rain hissing and thudding on the thatch overhead, all slept soundly.
In the morning the seven awoke to find that the storm had passed, allowing sunlight of blinding brilliance to illuminate the land. They were served a breakfast of black bread, curds and onions. While Aillas settled accounts with the innke
eper, the others went to prepare the horses for the road.
Aillas was startled by the score. "What? So much? For seven men of modest tastes?"
"You drank a veritable flood of wine. Here is an exact tally: nineteen pitchers of my best Carhaunge Red."
"One moment," said Aillas. He called in Yane. "We are in doubt as to the tally of last night. Can you assist us in any way?"
"Indeed I can. We were served twelve pitchers of wine. I wrote the number on paper and gave it to the girl. The wine was not Carhaunge; it was drawn from that cask yonder marked ‘Corriente': two pennies per pitcher."
"Ah!" exclaimed the landlord. "I see my mistake. This is a tally from the night before, when we served a party of ten noblemen."
Aillas scrutinized the score again. "Now then: what is this sum?"
"Miscellaneous services."
"I see. The gentleman who sat at the table yonder: who is he?"
"That would be Sir Descandol, younger son to Lord Maudelet of Gray Fosfre, over the bridge and into Ulfland."
"Sir Descandol was kind enough to warn us of your maids and their predatory mischief. There were no ‘miscellaneous services.'"
"Really? In that case, I must delete this item."
"And here: ‘Horses—stabling, fodder and drink.' Could seven horses occupy such luxurious expanses, eat so much hay and swill down so much valuable water as to justify the sum of thirteen florins?"
"Aha! You misread the figure, as did I in my grand total. The figure should be two florins."
"I see." Aillas returned to the account. "Your eels are very dear."
"They are out of season."
Aillas finally paid the amended account. He asked: "What lies along the road?"
"Wild country. The forest closes in and all is gloom."
"How far to the next inn?"
"Quite some distance."
"You have traveled the road yourself?"
"Through Tantrevalles Forest? Never."