Elder Isles 2: The Green Pearl (22 page)

Thrumbo turned and made a desperate dash for the hillside, hoping to scramble to freedom, but, as he was somewhat corpulent and short of breath, he was quickly captured and dragged sobbing and cursing to the gibbet. An hour later Aillas returned with his troops to Doun Darric.

Ill

THE BARONS OF SOUTH ULFLAND were convened in a second conclave at Doun Darric. On this occasion beef turned on the spit and a tun of good wine stood ready for the broaching.

Today there were no truants; all the barons of South Ulfland were on hand. Their mood, as they conferred privately and sat at the table, was somewhat different than on the previous occasion. They seemed glum and thoughtful, troubled rather than truculent.

Before too much wine was consumed, Aillas delivered his message. Today he sat quiet while a fanfare from a pair of clarions commanded silence. Then a herald, climbing onto a bench, read from a scroll:

“All hear these words, which are those of King Aillas! I speak in his voice! ‘Recently Sir Hune of Three Pines House disobeyed my explicit orders, and all present know how went the aftermath. In his dungeons he kept prisoners, contrary to the spirit if not the letter of my law.

“I will shortly issue a code of justice, uniform with that of Troicinet and Dascinet. In each county of the land, sheriffs and magistrates will be designated. They will administer all justice: high, middle and low. The persons here today will be relieved of what can only be an onerous responsibility.

“That responsibility is terminated. All prisoners held in durance by persons now present must be released into the custody of my representatives, who will return with each of you to your home-places. Hereafter you may no longer immure, incarcerate nor confine any of my subjects, at The risk of royal displeasure, which Sir Hune discovered to be swift and definite.

“I further discovered that Sir Hune indulged himself in the torture of his enemies. This is vile and ignoble, no matter what the justification. I hereby declare torture, in all its categories, to be a capital offense, punishable by death and confiscation of property.

“In all fairness I cannot punish crimes committed before my proscription, despite my inclination. You need fear no such reprisal. At this time either Sir Pirmence, Sir Maloof or Sir Tristano will interview each of you in turn. You must give information regarding prisoners in your custody, with their names and condition, and also the names of torturers in your employ. Then you will immediately depart for home, and the listed prisoners will be delivered to my representatives, who will also take your torturers into custody. Since I do not want these persons loosed into the general population, they will be brought here to Doun Darric and probably enlisted into a special corps of my army. Those among you who employed the torturers are no less culpable than they, but, as previously stated, I cannot punish you for crimes committed before my proscription.

“Sir Pirmence, Sir Maloof and Sir Tristano are now at work among you. I urge that you cooperate and impart exact information, as these declarations will be verified.’

“Such, my lords, are the words of his Majesty, King Aillas.”

THE BARONS HAD DEPARTED, most to take lodging for the night with friends or kin along the way to their homes. Each had gone in company with a Troice knight and six soldiers, to ensure the exact fulfillment of King Aillas’ law, which in many cases consisted of a prisoner exchange between hostile castles.

Aillas and Tristano sat long into the evening discussing the events of the day. Sir Tristano, in his conversations, had discovered no further news of Sir Shalles. He had last been seen at the remote castle of Sir Mulsant, one of the barons most intransigent of all.

“Mulsant’s point of view is not without logic,” said Tristano. “He lives under the Cloudcutters, where outlaws are rife; if he disbanded his garrison, he declares that he would not survive a week, and I tend to believe him. And now Torqual has intruded on the scene. Until we can hold him in check, we cannot fairly insist that folk of the region both go defenseless and endorse our cause.”

Aillas gloomily considered the statement. “Truly, our recourses are distasteful. If we strike at Torqual in North Ulfland, our chance of success is negligible and we challenge the Ska. Now, of all times, we want to let sleeping dogs lie.”

“No one will argue with this point of view.”

Aillas heaved a deep sigh and slumped back in his chair. “Once again dreamful hopes founder on the rocks of reality. I must adapt to the harsh facts. So long as Sir Mulsant and others like him cause us no embarrassment, I appoint them ‘Wardens of the March.’”

“All this is called ‘the art of practical kingship,’ ” said Tristano; then he and Aillas spoke of different subjects.

SHALLES, ARRIVING IN LYONESSE TOWN, went directly to Haidion and in due course was taken to a small sitting room in the Tower of Owls where King Casmir sat studying charts and maps. Shalles performed a suitable bow and waited while King Casmir closed his portfolio, using a ponderous deliberation, which anyone with a guilty conscience could only find ominous.

At last King Casmir swung about and looked Shalles over from head to toe, as if he had never seen him before. He gestured to a chair; when Shalles had seated himself, Casmir said, “Sir Shalles, I see that you have been traveling hard; what have you to tell me?”

Encouraged by Casmir’s use of the honorific, Shalles, who had been sitting on the edge of his chair, relaxed a trifle back into the seat. He considered his words carefully, since they might well make his fortune, or yield him nothing, if he failed to gain King Casmir’s approval. “In general, sir, I cannot fairly give you an amplitude of good news. King Aillas has acted with decision and to good effect. He has kept his opponents off-balance and denied them a basis for insubordination. He is popular with the common folk, and also the aristocracy of the lower fells and the shore, who value order and prosperity more than an unqualified franchise, which they never had, in any case.”

“Has there been measurable resistance to an alien king?”

“The most noteworthy example is that of Sir Hune of Three Pines House. He openly violated the new laws; almost before he did the deed his castle was in ruins and he swung high on a gibbet. This is language which the Ulfs understand.” Casmir gave a sour grunt. Shalles continued. “Aillas discovered full dungeons at Three Pines House. He called a conclave, where he banned private justice, and emptied every dungeon in the land. By and large, the edict won him approval, since the barons fear nothing more than their enemies’ dungeons, where, if captured, they are punished for the sins of their grandfathers.

“In clearing the dungeons, Aillas confiscated all their gear. I am told that he took forty racks, seven tons of tools, and one hundred torturers. These are now a special corps in the royal army. Their cheeks are tattooed black; their uniforms are black and yellow and they wear ‘mad-dog’ helmets. They are considered pariahs and live apart from the other troops.”

“Bah!” muttered Casmir. “There is a reek of over-niceness to this milk-sop king. What else?”

“I will now render an account of my own activities. They have been diligent, dangerous and miserably uncomfortable.” With a somewhat forced enthusiasm in the face of King Casmir’s unresponsive stare, Shalles described the range of his activities, and did not fail to mention the perils he encountered almost daily. “With a price on my head, I finally decided that I could do no more. My slanders, while always popular, were never corroborated and exerted no lasting influence. During the course of my work I discovered a strange fact, to this effect: the staid stark stupid truth carries more conviction than the most entrancing falsehoods, even though the latter sometimes receive more currency. Still, I was sufficiently irksome that Aillas tried with might and main to capture me, and I was constantly skipping away just barely clear of apprehension.”

With hooded eyes and in the mildest of voices King Casmir asked: “And what do you suppose might have been your fate had you been captured?”

Shalles’s sensitivities were keen. After only the most imperceptible of hesitations, he said: “That is hard to say. Aillas bruited about an offer to pay me twice your own stipend, if I became a turncoat. He intended, so I suspect, only a disparagement of my reputation, and in fact the ploy reduced my credibility to nothing.”

King Casmir gave a thoughtful nod. “A rumor of this offer reached me through other sources. What of Torqual?”

Shalles paused to gather his thoughts. “I have seen Torqual at various times, though not as often as I wished. He goes his way without reference to my advice, but he seems to be serving your good interests. He is insatiable in his demands for gold, that he may the better augment his power. We were together at the reduction of Three Pines House; we stood with peasants across the meadow. Torqual tells me that, first, he has been learning the terrain, and, second, that he has recruited the nucleus of a following. He has found a bolt-hole in North Ulfland from which he can penetrate South Ulfland on raids. He has let it be known that his favored victims will be those who obey the king’s command… a tactic which persuades the Ska to ignore him. Gradually he thinks to extend his power over all the high moors.” Here Shalles gave a shrug.

King Casmir asked: “You would seem to doubt his success?”

“In the long run, yes. He thinks only of destruction, which is not a sound basis for a stable rule. Still, I cannot read the future. In the Ulflands anything can happen.”

“So it seems,” mused King Casmir. “So it seems.”

Shalles said somberly: “I wish I could bring you news kinder to your ears, since my fortune depends upon pleasing you.”

King Casmir rose to his feet and went to look down into the fire. At length he said: “You may go. In the morning we will talk further.”

Shalles bowed and departed in a cheerless mood. Lacking compliments from King Casmir, he had not dared bring up the subject of reward.

In the morning King Casmir again conferred with Shalles, and attempted to glean more information about Torqual, but Shalles could only reiterate his statements of the day before. Finally King Casmir tendered him a sealed packet. “At the stable a good horse awaits. I have another small mission for you. Ride north into Pomperol by Icnield Way. At the village Honriot turn left and ride through Dahaut into Forest Tantrevalles. Go to Faroli and give this message into the hand of the wizard Tamurello. I expect that he will have a response for you.”

IN DUE COURSE SHALLES RETURNED to Haidion. He was at once admitted into the presence of King Casmir, to whom he delivered a parcel.

King Casmir appeared in no haste to learn the contents of the parcel. He laid it on the table and, turning to Shalles, in an almost gracious manner asked: “How went the journey?”

“The journey went well, sir. I rode at speed to Faroli, which I found without undue difficulty.”

“And what do you make of Faroli?”

“It is a splendid manse of silver and glass and precious black wood. Silver poles support the roof, which is like the roof of an enormous many-sided tent, but for its sheathing of green silver tiles. The gate was guarded by a pair of gray lions, double the size of the ordinary beast, with fur as glossy as fine silk. They rose up on their hind legs and called out: ‘Halt, as you value your life!’ I named myself the emissary of King Casmir, and they let me pass without emotion.”

“And Tamurello himself? I am told that he never seems the same man twice.”

“As to that, sir, I cannot say. He appeared to be tall, very thin and very pale, with black hair in a tall crest over his scalp. His eyes glowed like carbuncles and his robe was embroidered in silver signs. I gave him your message, which he read at once. Then he said: ‘Await me here. Do not move by so much as a pace or the lions will tear you to bits.’

“I waited, as still as stone, while the lions sat watching. Presently Tamurello returned. He gave me that packet which I have just presented to your Majesty, and quelled his lions so that I could take my departure. I returned to Haidion at best speed, and there is no more to be told.”

“Well done, Shalles.” King Casmir looked toward the parcel as if he might now open it, but once again turned back to Shalles.

“And now you will wish to be rewarded for your services.”

Shalles bowed. “As your Majesty so pleases.”

“And what might be your desires?”

“Most of all, sir, I wish a small estate near the town Poinxter in Gray wold County, where my family resides and where I was born.”

King Casmir compressed his lips. “A bucolic life makes one sluggish and reluctant of foot when he goes out on the king’s service. He thinks more of his hives and his calving and the set of his grapes than of the royal necessities.”

“In truth, your Majesty, I have reached that time in life when I am no longer apt for midnight skulking and sinister plots. My brain has grown heavy along with my belly; it is time that I settled to a life where my great adventure of the day is a fox in the chicken-run. In short, your Majesty, pray excuse me from further service. These last months have brought me dreads in the dark and nimble escapes enough for a lifetime.”

“Do you have an estate in mind?”

“I have not taken time to search the area, sir.”

“And what quality estate do you consider your effort of this short period has earned?”

“If I were paid for time alone, three gold crowns would suffice. If you ask the value I put on my life, I would not sell for ten caravans laden with emeralds, not even if six shiploads of gold were added for an inducement. So I would wish to be paid with some regard for the risks I took with my costly life, for priceless plots and inspired slander, for windy nights on the moors while honest men slept snug in their beds. Your Majesty, I submit without question to your generosity. I may say that I would rejoice at a gentleman’s house beside a good stream, with ten acres of woodland and three or four farms out at leasehold.”

King Casmir smiled. “Shalles, if you have used as much fluency in my service as you have in your own, your requests are mild and fair, and so I must judge them.” He wrote upon a parchment, performed a flourishing signature and handed the document to Shalles. “Here is the royal patent upon an unnamed property. Go to Poinxter, discover a suitable premise of the style you stipulate, and present this patent to the county reeve. Do not thank me. You may go.”