The Knight twk-1

by Gene Wolfe

  “I think so too.”

  “Foining’s one of the best ways of taking down your man in a real fight. People don’t like to talk about it.”

  I waited.

  “I don’t myself, because quite a few of us consider it unfair. But when it’s you or him ...”

  “I understand.”

  “It’s not lawful in tournaments, not even in the melee. That’s where the business of unfairness comes from. But it’s not lawful because it’s so dangerous. Even if you grind the point off the sword, you can hurt somebody pretty badly by foining.”

  I got up. “Can I show you my mace?”

  “That thing that looks like a sword? Sure.”

  I drew Sword Breaker and handed it to Garvaon. “The end is squared off. See?”

  Garvaon nodded. “I do, and I think I know what you’re going to say.”

  “I hit another knight in the face once with the end.”

  “How’d it work?”

  I had to think about that. “He was as tall as I am, as I remember. But he fell down, and I had no more trouble with him. He kept his hands on his face after that.”

  Garvaon nodded and smiled. “You gave yourself a better lesson then than I could ever give you. You probably knocked some teeth out, and you may have broken bone, too. But if you’d had a real sword with a sharp point, you’d have killed him. And that’s better.”

  He drew his sword. “This’s the best kind for foining. A little taper to the blade, and a good sharp point. You want a light point for finesse, but you want some weight to your blade, too, so it foins hard. Foining’s the best way to get through mail. Did you know that?”

  I shook my head.

  “It is, and it’s the best way to give him a deep wound, whether he’s got mail or not. The Angrborn don’t wear mail very much.”

  “I didn’t know that, either.”

  “I think they think they don’t need it with us. Have you ever fought one?”

  “No, I saw one once, but I didn’t fight him. I was scared stiff.”

  “You’ll be scared next time, too. Everybody is. You see one, and you think you need a whole army.”

  “Have you fought them?”

  Garvaon nodded. “One. Once.”

  “You killed him?”

  Garvaon nodded again. “I had a couple of archers with me, and one put an arrow in his chin. He threw his hands up, the same way your man did when you got him in the face. I ran in and cut him right over the knee.” Garvaon’s finger indicated the place. “Right here. He fell, and I foined all the way through his neck. We brought his head back to show Lord Beel, pulling it behind two horses.” Garvaon smiled at the memory. “It was about as big as a barrel.”

  “They’re as big as people say, then. I know the one I saw looked terribly big.”

  “Depends on who the people are, like always. But they’re big, all right. It’s a jolt anytime you see one. They aren’t made quite like us, either. Their legs are thicker than they should be. They’re wide all over, and their heads ought to be smaller. When you cut one off like I did, it’s so big it scares you.”

  For perhaps the hundredth time, I tried to visualize a whole raiding party of Angrborn. Not one alone, but a score or a hundred marching down the War Way. “I understand now why this road’s so wide.”

  “The thing is, they’re slow. I don’t mean slow walkers. They’ll get someplace a lot faster than you will, because their steps are so long. But slow at turning and things like that. If they weren’t, we wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  “Speed is everything,” I said.

  “Right. I’ve fought you. With those practice swords we use, I mean. You’re strong, one of the strongest men I ever came up against. But you’re not stronger than one of them, so you’ve got to be faster. And smarter. Don’t think it’s going to be easy.”

  “I never have,” I said. “I knew a man who fought them.”

  “Did he win?”

  I shook my head. “I want to ask you more about foining. But first, what do you think about what Lord Beel’s going to do tonight?”

  “My honest opinion? Between the two of us?”

  “Between the three of us.” I smiled as I stroked Mani’s head.

  “All right. I doubt anything will happen, and probably we won’t find out anything.”

  “I thought you were worried about it,” I said, “when we were in his pavilion, I mean.”

  “I was.” Garvaon hesitated, and looked around. “I’ve been with him before when he’s tried to do something like this. Usually nothing happens, but sometimes something does. I don’t like things I can’t understand.”

  “May I ask what happened?”

  Garvaon shook his head. His face was grim.

  I let out my breath. “All right. I’ll see for myself tonight. Do you think we ought to have a look at the moon?”

  “Not yet. I want to talk to you a little bit more, and it hasn’t been long enough anyhow. We haven’t been together very long, but I’ve been doing my best to teach you, like I said I would. You’ll allow that?”

  “Of course.”

  “We fought the Mountain Men together, too.”

  I nodded. “Yes. We did.”

  “So we’re friends, and you owe me a boon.”

  Mani, who had been ignoring us since it became apparent that there would be no more talk of magic, regarded Garvaon with interest.

  “You’ll admit that, Sir Able?”

  “Sure. I never denied it.”

  “I reserved my boon, and I wasn’t going to ask it, since you won. We both know it.”

  “I owe you a boon,” I said, “you only have to tell me what you want.”

  For a second or two Garvaon sat studying me. “I’m a widower. Did you know that?”

  I shook my head.

  “I am. It will be two years this fall. My son died too. Volla was trying to bear me a son.”

  “I’m sorry. Darned sorry.”

  Garvaon cleared his throat. “Lady Idnn has never showed any interest in me.”

  I waited, feeling Mani’s claws through the thick wool of my trousers. “Not until today. Today she smiled at me, and we talked like friends.”

  “I’ve got it,” I said.

  “She’s young. Twenty-two years younger than I am. But we’re going to be living in this Frost Giant king’s stronghold. There won’t be many real men around.”

  “You and her father,” I said. “Your archers and men-at-arms, and her father’s servants.”

  “Not you?”

  “Right. I won’t be there. I’m going to find Pouk and get back my horses and the rest of my stuff. When I’ve done it, I’ll take my stand someplace in these mountains. That’s what I promised Duke Marder I’d do, and it’s what I’m going to do.”

  “You aren’t going to stay?”

  “I’m not even going as far as King Gilling’s stronghold, if I find Pouk before we get there. Do you still want your boon? What is it?”

  “You’re younger than I am.”

  “Sure. A lot.”

  “You’re bigger, too, and you’re better-looking. I know all that.”

  “I’m a knight with no reputation at all,” I reminded him. “Don’t leave that out. If you’ve wondered why I’m so hot to find Pouk, one reason is that he’s got everything I own with him. You’ve got a manor called Finefield, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “A big house with a wall around it.”

  “And a tower,” Garvaon said.

  “Fields, too, and peasants to plow and plant and herd your cows. I don’t have anything like that.” All the time we were talking, I was thinking about what Idnn had said about Beel giving her to King Gilling, but I could not tell Garvaon and I would have been afraid of what he might do if I did. And underneath those things I kept thinking over and over that if Idnn really wanted to be rescued, here he was.

  Garvaon said, “You wish me to name my boon. This isn’t easy for me.”

  “
I think I can guess it, so you don’t have to.”

  “I want you to give me your word, your word of honor, that you’ll do nothing else to lessen me in her eyes. You’re a better bowman than I, and everyone knows it. Let it be enough.”

  “I will.”

  “If she rejects me, I’ll tell you. But until she does, and I tell you so, I want you to promise you won’t try to win her for yourself.”

  Chapter 58. Back To The Ashes

  Y ou’vegot my word.” I offered Garvaon my hand.

  He took it; his own was like he was, no bigger than most but hard and strong. “You want her, naturally.”

  “I don’t.”

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “She sure is.” I nodded. “But she’s not the one I’m in love with.”

  “She’s the daughter of a baron, too.” For a moment Garvaon looked ready to give up. “His only daughter.”

  “You’re right. Beel won’t make it easy.”

  Garvaon squared his shoulders. “I have your word, Sir Able. What was it you wanted to ask about foining?”

  “What should I do when the other man foins? How can I guard against it?”

  “Ah.” Garvaon stood and picked up his shield. “That’s a good one. First you need to know that it’s hard to guard against. If he likes it, you’ve got to take that very, very seriously.”

  “I will.”

  “Second, you need to know when he’s most likely to do it. Do you still have that shield you used last night?”

  I shook my head. “I gave it back to Beaw.”

  “Then take mine.” Garvaon got out the sticks that were our practice swords.

  “Don’t we need more light?” I put Mani down.

  “We’re not going to fight. I just want to show you a couple of things. You remember what I said about not coming at your man right leg first? Another reason is that if he knows much about foining, he can stick his sword in it.

  “That’s right, square up. Now I’m not going to put my point in your face or your leg, which is what I might do in a real fight. I’m just going to foin your shield. I want you to stay squared up, but back away until I can’t foin your shield without taking three or four steps toward you.”

  I took a couple of short steps backward, still on my guard.

  “That it? Get set.” Before Garvaon finished the last word, the tip of his stick hit the shield.

  He sprang back. “Did you see what I did? I was leading with my left leg a trifle. I took a long step with my right. Add the length of my arm to the length of my blade and it’s as tall as I am.”

  “It was like magic,” I said.

  “Maybe, but it wasn’t. You’ve got to practice that long step. It isn’t as easy as it looks. Also you’ve got to hold your shield up over your head when you take it. You’re wide open to an overhand cut, if your man’s fast enough.”

  “I’d like to see that,” I said.

  Garvaon glanced at the doorway. “It’s brighter out there. I’ll teach you how to make anybody back off, then we’d better call on His Lordship.”

  With his shield on his arm, he demonstrated the thrust and had me do it. At the third, I felt Mani tugging my leg.

  “Ready to go?” Garvaon asked.

  “I should go back and dig out my helmet,” I told him. “Lord Beel will want to see me wearing it. Tell him I’ll be along in a minute or two.”

  Back in the pavilion, I stooped to talk to Mani. “What is it?”

  “I ran over to Idnn’s to watch the preparations,” Mani explained, “and he’s going to do it right there. He ought to go back to where the ashes were. Tell him to put some ashes in the bowl, too.”

  * * *

  The front of Beel’s pavilion was lit with a dozen candles. The stony ground had been smoothed, and a carpet laid over it. Beel sat cross-legged on the carpet with a wineskin, a gold bowl, and a gold cup before him. Idnn was in a folding chair in front of the silk curtain, with Garvaon standing beside her. “There you are,” Beel said. “Now we can begin.”

  I bowed. “Would it be possible for me to speak in private with My Lord for a moment?”

  Beel hesitated. “Is this important?”

  “I think so, My Lord. I dare hope you’ll think so too.”

  Idnn said, “Sir Garvaon and I will wait outside, Father. Call us when you’re ready.”

  “I will not order my daughter out into the night.” Beel turned to me. “If we go a short distance from the camp, will that be sufficient?”

  We walked a hundred yards up the valley. Beel stopped there, and turned to face me. “You might begin by explaining why you would not speak in the presence of my daughter and my trusted retainer.”

  “Because I needed to advise you,” I explained. “As a mere knight—”

  “I understand. What is it?”

  “You called me a wizard. I’m not, but I’ve got a friend who knows a little about magic.”

  “And he—or she—has taught you a few simple things, I suppose. Your modesty becomes you.”

  “Thank you, My Lord. Thank you very much.” I looked around for Mani, but Mani was nowhere in sight.

  “I’ve a question, Sir Able. In the past, you have not been entirely disingenuous in answering my questions.”

  “Maybe not. I apologize.”

  “If I listen to your advice—this friend’s advice, though I supposed that you came to me alone when you first sought the loan of a horse—will you answer one question fully and forthrightly? Upon your honor? Because I will not hear your advice otherwise.”

  I shook my head. “This is very important to me, My Lord.”

  “All the more reason for you to pledge yourself.”

  “All right, I’ll promise. But only if you take my advice as well as listen to it.”

  “You would command me?”

  “Never, My Lord. But ... Well, I’ve got to find Pouk. Won’t you do as I advise? I’m begging.”

  “The choice is mine? Save that you will not pledge yourself unless I do as you wish?”

  “Yes, Your Lordship.”

  “Then let me hear you.”

  When we returned to Beel’s pavilion, he ordered horses brought for all of us. Another horse carried the carpet, the wineskin, and other things; and a sixth, his servingman.

  “We are going back up to the pass,” Beel told Garvaon.

  “You should ride before us, I think. Sir Able can bring up the rear, which may be the more dangerous post.”

  What it really was, I thought as I rode rear guard, was the loneliest. If that were not bad enough, I had to rein in my stallion every minute to keep him behind the sumpter that carried the baggage.

  The rocks, and the occasional tree and bush to either side of the War Way, concealed no enemies that I could see; and although I listened hard, I could hear only the cold, lonely song of the wind, and the clop-clop of hooves. The moon shone bright, and the cold stars kept their secrets.

  When I rode out on a rocky spur far up the mountainside and looked down on the camp, its dark pavilions and dying fires seemed every bit as far away as those stars ....

  Chapter 59. In Jotunland

  B eel ordered the carpet spread between the ashes and asked everyone why there had been two fires. I shook my head; but Idnn said, “Sir Garvaon will know. Wilt tell us, sir knight?”

  “They built their first fire here.” Garvaon pointed. “That was because it offered the best shelter from the wind, which is generally in the west. The next night, or it could have been the night after that, one of them saw it could be seen from the north.”

  “And it was seen,” Beel muttered. “Now we will see what I will see myself, if I see anything. I must caution all of you again that this may not prove effectual.”

  He glanced down at the bowl his servingman held. “Why that’s silver! Where’s my gold bowl, Swert?”

  “I told him to bring this one, Father,” Idnn said. “You charm by moonlight, and not by day. This is my fruit bowl. I think it may
bring you good fortune tonight.”

  Beel smiled. “Have you become a witch?”

  “No, Father. I know no magic, but I had the advice of a friend who does.”

  “Sir Able?”

  She shook her head. “I had to promise I wouldn’t tell you who it is.”

  “One of your maids, I suppose.”

  Idnn said nothing.

  “Not that it matters.” Beel knelt upon the carpet. The servingman handed him a silver goblet and a skin of wine, and he filled both bowl and goblet.

  Mani had crept up to, watch; to get a better view, he sprang onto my shoulder.

  “I ask all of you to keep silent,” Beel said. Reaching into his coat, he produced a small leather bag from which he took a thick pinch of dried herbs. Half he dropped into the bowl, the rest into the goblet. Closing his eyes, he recited an invocation.

  In the hush that followed, it seemed to me that the song of the wind had altered, humming with words in a tongue I did not know.

  “Mongan!” Beel exclaimed. “Dirmaid! Sirona!” He drained the silver goblet at a single draught and bent to look into the silver bowl.

  So did I, crouching beside him. After a moment I was joined by Idnn, and she by Garvaon.

  As through the mouth of a dark cave, I beheld a forest of unearthly beauty. Disiri the Moss Queen stood in a glade where strange flowers blossomed, naked, more graceful than mortal women and more fair; her green hair rose twice the height of her head, nodding and flowing in the breeze that stirred the flowers. The younger Toug cowered before her, and I waited on my knees. With a slender silver sword, she touched both my shoulders.

  “This is of the past,” I murmured to Beel. “Drop ashes into the wine.”

  Beel regarded me with empty eyes; but Idnn brought a pinch of ash and dropped it into the bowl, where it seemed to dull the luster of the surface.

  It became the gray coat of a thickset man who walked a long and muddy road across a plain veiled by cloud. Towers, squat and huge, rose in the distance. With his staff, this man struck down a woman no larger than a child. A ragged figure who had been driving before them horses no bigger than dogs threw himself over her, offering his back for hers. The man in the gray coat struck him contemptuously, then nudged both with the toe of his boot.