The Dog of the North

by Tim Stretton

  ‘Not so,’ said Arren, grim of face but flush with embarrassment at being played for such a fool. ‘You must reckon with my sword, which wreaks its own kind of advantage.’

  Delippe displayed no concern. ‘Once you have killed not only me but Lubo and Tasolle, how do you propose to return to the shore?’

  ‘You will find the matter of academic interest only,’ said Arren in a level tone.

  ‘In addition,’ said Delippe, ‘you will observe that Tasolle is up the mast, out of your reach, and has his bow trained on your heart. Both he and I would regret being forced to use it.’

  Siedra spoke up at last. ‘All the while we are on your boat, you cannot go about your business. In a sense, you are as much our prisoners as we are yours.’

  Arren looked at her in admiration, for the point was well made.

  Delippe smilingly shook his head. ‘You will notice that we are heading not for the shore, but for the small island ahead. It harbours no noxious beasts, but you will not wish to remain there for too long a period. The most convenient outcome for us all is for you to pay over my ten florins. This is business, and we can all depart content.’

  Lady Cerisa and Siedra looked at Arren. He shrugged; he could see no alternative. He reached into his pouch and counted out the coins. Delippe gave an ironic bow. ‘You will see that Lubo has already set our course for the shore.’

  ‘Do something, Arren!’ cried Lady Cerisa. ‘This rogue has made dupes of us! Some escort you have proved to be. Lord Thaume will hear of this, in full detail!’

  Siedra had been sitting quietly on her wooden bench. Now she rose to face Lady Cerisa. ‘You stupid, prating, selfish ninny! You have dragged us along on your ludicrous errand that was of interest to no one but yourself. You insisted on coming aboard this boat against all sense and advice, and now you have the audacity to blame Arren! Be sure that if you mention this to my father, all aspects of the affair will be laid bare.’

  ‘Oh! To be spoken to in such a way! I have nurtured a viper! Viator Sleech was right: you should all have been compelled to attend the Viatory daily, instead of wasting your time learning mathematics and thaumaturgy.’ She sat down heavily on her bench and said nothing else until they arrived at the wharf.

  ‘We have reached our destination,’ said Delippe. ‘I hope that, if you are lighter in coin, you are least richer in wisdom and experience. Ten florins is cheap at the price. Tasolle, what are you thinking of? Lay on a plank for the ladies and the boy.’

  Arren gritted his teeth. Retribution would soon find Delippe.

  The grizzled Lubo assisted Siedra and Lady Cerisa down the gangplank with an exaggerated delicacy which in other circumstances Arren might have found amusing. As he stepped onto the plank he stumbled and fell against Delippe, who laughed with a patronizing bonhomie. ‘Careful there, lad! Don’t let that sword pull you off balance.’

  Arren shot him a look of detestation and walked slowly towards the ladies. Cerisa looked away; Siedra gave him a half-smile. Without a backwards glance he led the way back to the city gates.

  ‘Cheer up, Arren,’ said Siedra. ‘Events have not gone to plan, but at least I have not had to spend the day with Trevarre or his brother. It is hard to know which of them is viler. Ten florins of my father’s money is not too high a price.’

  Arren’s gaze flicked up to her face. ‘Keep walking,’ he said, ‘in fact, speed up, and do not look back.’

  ‘Arren?’

  ‘Lady Cerisa, you too must step out.’

  ‘Hmph. Have a care for my ankle, you oaf.’

  ‘Bugger your ankle, my lady. Dawdle or step out, the choice is yours.’

  From behind them came a call. ‘Hoy! Wait up there!’

  ‘The gate – run!’ called Arren, taking Siedra’s arm. Lady Cerisa bolted with seemingly no care for the condition of her ankle.

  Fortunately they were nearly at the gate, and while Arren spoke to the watchmen, Lady Cerisa and Siedra slipped through. He looked back to see Delippe slinking away back to the Glauticus.

  ‘Would you care to explain yourself?’ asked Lady Cerisa. ‘And to account for your language?’

  Arren reached under his cloak and brought forth a purse. ‘This belonged to Delippe: I know it contains at least ten florins, and I hope rather more.’

  ‘Arren!’ cried Siedra in delight.

  ‘A pickpocket as well as a knave!’ thundered Lady Cerisa. ‘I should call the constable, and tell Lord Thaume.’

  ‘Do as you please, my lady. No doubt every listener will give you the attention you merit. Siedra, shall we count what we have?’

  And as he tipped the coins out on to her palm he gave thanks for those days in Croad market when he and Eilla had vied to see who could take the most plunder. He was, for today at least, King of the Raiders.

  2

  Arren had expected that there would have been considerable scrutiny of his exploits during the day, especially as Lady Cerisa was hobbling around the guest quarters with plentiful sighs. The matter was relegated to insignificance, however, because Oricien and Guigot had quarrelled at the tilt-yard over Lady Helisette’s favour and been banished to their own quarters. After a light supper Lord Thaume convened a council in his chambers, to be attended by his wife and children, Guigot, Arren and Masters Coppercake and Guiles.

  Arren could tell on entering that Lord Thaume was not in a good humour. He was dressed again in the black breeches and shirt that Guigot called his ‘hanging attire’.

  ‘Sit,’ said Lord Thaume. ‘If you require refreshment, you must serve yourselves: this is not talk for servants to overhear.’

  There was a pause while the group chose the beverages best suiting their needs. Arren settled for a tisane, and felt that Guigot was perhaps ill-advised in choosing the rough red wine grown in Duke Panarre’s own vineyards.

  ‘First,’ said Lord Thaume when they were all seated, ‘I wish to express my strong displeasure with you, Guigot, and especially you, Oricien, for this afternoon’s display. What can you have been thinking of?’

  ‘Guigot attempted to unseat me,’ said Oricien with a scowl. ‘It was ill-done in front of Lady Helisette.’

  Lord Thaume shot his son a penetrating look. ‘Unseating is the purpose of tilting,’ he said. ‘It is unreasonable to complain.’

  ‘We had finished the pass,’ said Oricien. ‘We were at rest.’

  ‘False!’ declared Guigot. ‘After one inconclusive pass we were entitled to another. Oricien erred in assuming I would call for a cessation. He has learned a valuable lesson.’

  Lady Jilka interjected. ‘The tilt-yard is not a place for sharp practice. In belittling Oricien you belittle us all.’

  Guigot looked back levelly. ‘Whatever fate befell Oricien, he brought it upon himself. If he appeared a fool, it was of his own making.’

  Oricien rose from his seat. ‘You whelp! You wanted to cut a fine figure in front of Lady Helisette!’

  ‘Enough! Sit down, Oricien,’ said Lord Thaume. ‘The facts are these: in brawling in the tilt-yard you will both have created unfavourable impressions on the ladies. Oricien, you should have shown greater self-control; Guigot, you should not have provoked Oricien. Most importantly, the notion of “impressing the ladies” is misconceived.’

  ‘How so?’ asked Oricien. ‘I understood that we were partly here to discuss betrothals.’

  ‘Just so,’ said Lord Thaume. ‘However, your own inclinations, and indeed those of Panarre’s daughters, are of little relevance. Understand, Oricien, that if I choose to marry you to Panarre’s scullery maid, you will do so.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said Oricien.

  ‘You both fought at Jehan’s Steppe. I imagined this kind of childishness behind you. Arren shows greater judgement than either of you.’

  Arren gave silent thanks that Lord Thaume was not aware of this afternoon’s events at the Molo. He might have turned a profit on the affair – four florins, in fact – but his mastery of events had been less than absolute.
/>   ‘You raised the question of betrothals, Oricien,’ said Lord Thaume. ‘I have spent the past two days, assisted by Master Guiles and Master Coppercake, in negotiation with Duke Panarre and his advisers.’

  ‘Without our knowledge!’ said Guigot.

  ‘Naturally,’ said Lord Thaume. ‘As I explained, your inclinations are irrelevant.’

  Siedra, who was sitting next to Arren, said in a quiet voice: ‘Have discussions reached a conclusion?’

  ‘Patience!’ said Lord Thaume. ‘I have made Duke Panarre three offers. It is for him to decide which, if any, is acceptable.’

  Siedra looked at her mother, whose expression was unreadable. ‘You need have no alarm,’ said Master Guiles, brushing crumbs from his doublet. ‘Any alliance into the House of Glount can only be advantageous to your family, and illustrious to yourselves. We can only hope that Duke Panarre is receptive to our proposals.’

  ‘They are in suspense, my lord,’ said Coppercake. ‘Will you not tell them the state of affairs?’

  Lord Thaume nodded. Arren thought he did not seem disposed to rejoice. ‘My initial proposal, and the one which represents my best hope, is for a betrothal between Oricien and Lady Helisette. As Panarre’s eldest daughter she would be a suitable match for my heir, and bring a sizeable dowry to boot.’

  Oricien shot Guigot a look of barely concealed triumph. Guigot did not meet his gaze. ‘Such a match,’ continued Lord Thaume, ‘would unite our families in a strong bond of amity. It remains to be seen whether Duke Panarre wishes to be so closely associated with a vassal. As to my other offers: I have also proposed a union between Guigot and Lady Genevieva.’

  ‘A second daughter!’ cried Guigot. ‘My lineage must entitle me to better.’

  ‘On the contrary,’ said Master Guiles. ‘The advantage in the match would lie with us. Your lineage may be noble, Guigot, but your prospects are not strong. Lord Thaume would have to settle lands upon you to avoid a misalliance.’

  Guigot opened his mouth to argue.

  ‘Enough, Guigot,’ said Lord Thaume. ‘Your observations are not to the point.’

  ‘What of me, father?’ asked Siedra in a trembling voice.

  ‘I have proposed a match with Lord Dinarre,’ said Lord Thaume. ‘Much as I would have liked you to marry Trevarre, it is inconceivable that Panarre would give his heir away to a vassal. Dinarre remains an excellent match, especially as Trevarre’s health is not robust.’

  ‘No!’ cried Siedra, the colour draining from her face. ‘He is unspeakable.’

  ‘His pedigree is flawless,’ said Lord Thaume. ‘He is also a handsome young man with agreeable manners.’

  ‘Mother!’ appealed Siedra. ‘He tortures kittens!’

  Lady Jilka gave her a minatory stare. ‘Do you like kittens, Siedra?’

  ‘No, but—’

  ‘Then you have no grounds for complaint. It is a harmless peccadillo, and in any event probably no more than malicious rumour.’

  ‘I despise him! He makes my flesh crawl.’

  Lord Thaume gave her a not unsympathetic glance. ‘We are not all able to choose our partners,’ he said with a rapid flick of his eyes towards Lady Jilka. ‘Your maidenly modesty does you credit, but your objections in this case are overheated and hysterical.’

  ‘In any event,’ said Coppercake, ‘these are proposals, not firm betrothals.’

  Oricien leaned forward eagerly. ‘I for one am content with my match. We may proceed instantly, or sooner at your pleasure.’

  Lord Thaume held up his hand. ‘You are premature. Duke Panarre has rejected the match. We continue to negotiate, but I find it unlikely he will give away his eldest daughter. He has made a counter-proposal: Lady Genevieva.’

  ‘But I thought—’ said Guigot.

  ‘We will come to you in due course, Guigot,’ continued Lord Thaume. ‘Needless to say, I have rejected the proposal. The only second daughter I would give my heir to is the King’s. For now, Oricien, we continue to negotiate.’

  ‘I express a clear and unequivocal preference for the Lady Helisette,’ declared Oricien.

  ‘You may prefer as you choose,’ said Guigot with evident satisfaction. ‘Panarre will not give her away to you unless your father waives the dowry.’

  ‘I do not require a dowry!’ said Oricien. ‘The lady’s beauty is its own bounty.’

  ‘Do you value our house so low, Oricien, that its heir should marry undowered? We should be the laughing-stock of the Emmenrule. I would marry you to Lady Helisette, but only in accordance with our dignity. You have been reading too many of Lady Cerisa’s romances, to spout such drivel.’

  Oricien lapsed into chastened silence.

  ‘As for you, Guigot, you may infer that Duke Panarre has rejected my proposal with regard to yourself. However, he has suggested Lady Klaera in Genevieva’s stead.’

  ‘Infamous!’ shouted Guigot, leaping from his seat. ‘She is a halfwit and drools when she eats. No doubt she soils herself hourly.’

  Lord Thaume raised an eyebrow. ‘You exaggerate the scope of her afflictions. Granted, her wits are not of clearest water, but with well-trained attendants her condition is manageable.’

  ‘This is intolerable, that I should marry a lackwit!’

  Siedra leaned across and whispered to Arren: ‘A good match.’

  ‘She comes with an excellent pedigree,’ said Lord Thaume. ‘I have not rejected the matter out of hand. Remember, Guigot, that for all the excellence of your lineage, you are heir only to the kingdom of your imagination.’

  ‘Panarre mocks us!’ shouted Guigot. ‘He would not offer her to anyone he wished to conciliate.’

  ‘Negotiations continue,’ said Lord Thaume. ‘That is all there is to be said for the present.’

  ‘I sense a pattern,’ said Siedra. ‘Naturally Duke Panarre has also rejected your proposals with regard to myself.’

  Lord Thaume grimaced. ‘In a sense, Siedra. He considers the dowry I am offering to be inadequate. He invited me here on the strength of the ransoms I expect to collect from Jehan’s Steppe. As a result he considers my wealth higher than Coppercake feels to be accurate. The sticking point therefore remains the size of your dowry. That aside, I feel we may have reached agreement in principle.’

  Siedra began to sniffle. ‘Duke Panarre is so avaricious. Surely his price will be too high.’

  ‘The match would be strongly advantageous to me,’ said Lord Thaume. ‘I am hopeful that we will reach an understanding.’

  Siedra burst into full-fledged sobs and dashed from the room.

  ‘Jilka, go with her,’ said Lord Thaume. ‘She must be brought to see matters from a broader perspective.’

  A firm knocking at the door brought a startled silence.

  ‘I gave orders that we were not to be disturbed,’ said Lord Thaume testily. ‘Who is there?’

  ‘It is I.’ Seneschal Tourmi bustled into the room. ‘I apologize for the intrusion, my lord. Duke Panarre requests your presence in the Great Hall immediately, with all your party. There are grave tidings to convey.’

  3

  By the time Lord Thaume had led his household to the Great Hall, it was thronged with people of all degrees. Seneschal Tourmi led them to places of honour at the front of the hall, and Duke Panarre mounted the speaking platform with measured grace.

  With a sombre expression he cleared his throat.

  ‘My thanks to you all for assembling so quickly,’ he said. ‘I have news from Emmen which will keep no longer. King Arren is gravely ill: his life is in the balance.’

  Arren was conscious of his heart thudding. He had always felt a bond with the King because of their shared name.

  ‘A herald has arrived from the court,’ continued Panarre. ‘His Puissance suffered a seizure as he sat at his meat. One side of his body does not move, and he cannot speak. The apothecaries call such a seizure a Disharmony, since one half of the body is at variance with the other. The viators explain it in terms of the body’s final struggle to ach
ieve Harmony, an area where I will not venture an opinion.’

  ‘When did this occur?’ came a voice from the hall.

  ‘Something around a week ago,’ said Panarre.

  Master Guiles looked across at Lord Thaume. By now the King could well be dead.

  ‘Much remains to be understood,’ said Panarre, ‘and many of the certainties of our existence are removed. Those of us engaged in negotiations on matters of state—’ here he looked at Lord Thaume ‘—will naturally wish to consider these new verities. All must understand that conditions are not as they were.’

  Lord Thaume rose, and with a bow addressed Duke Panarre. ‘My lord, these are ill tidings indeed. Our thoughts are with the King and his family, and through the viators we beseech Hissen and Animaxia to hasten his recovery. Nonetheless, my lord, I must beg your favour to return north. At such a time my place is with my people.’

  Duke Panarre bowed in return. ‘Naturally I grant your suit. We can proceed no further with our negotiations as things stand: we will resume them at an appropriate time. Tourmi, kindly assist Lord Thaume and his party in their preparations.’

  Lord Thaume strode from the hall. Siedra was sobbing once again.

  ‘Do not despair, Siedra,’ said Arren gently. ‘All may yet be well.’

  She looked at him with incredulity. ‘Can you be so dense, Arren? I am crying with joy: my betrothal cannot proceed under these conditions. I regret the King’s misfortune, of course, but he is an elderly man. He must die at some point, and if it brings good fortune to me I give thanks for it.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Arren, do not be so block-headed. You remind me of Oricien, which is not always a compliment.’

  As they packed their goods Arren realized that he was the only person who seemed to feel any concern for the old man. Oricien showed considerable irritation, but largely because his betrothal to Lady Helisette receded yet further; Guigot manifested utter indifference, while Lord Thaume discussed matters of high policy with Guiles and Coppercake. Only Lady Jilka, who had rushed to the Viatory with Lady Cerisa to supplicate for the King’s recovery, showed any kind of response Arren could understand. A curious ally, he thought.