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Authors: Gene Wolfe

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BOOK: The Wizard
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"He fought the dragon in Aelfrice, My Lord. Only he wasn't killed, and Sir Garvaon was. I didn't see it. I mean I saw his body. The dragon bit him nearly through." The Earl Marshal rose. "You offered to show me that, um, mare of yours, Sir Able. Let's look at her." We traversed a dozen corridors and passed through four courtyards. I recall thinking at the time that in spite of Thortower's many lofty walls, soaring towers, and circles of fortification, it could not be defended by anything less than an army. It was too big to be held by a few hundred menor a thousand, for that matter. At last we reached the stables, and by pretending to quiet Cloud so the Earl Marshal could examine her, I was able to conceal the ivory dot that would become her horn. When he had stroked her muzzle, which she tolerated, he asked to ride her; and I was forced to say that he could not, that she would not permit it. "I might tame her in time, I suppose," he said. "No, My Lord." "No one but yourself, eh?" "I've ridden her," Wistan said, "but Sir Able's right, I wouldn't try it unless she likes you." "My weight, perhaps. Well, she's a remarkable animal, Sir Able. I won't ask whether you'll sell her. I know the answer. It wouldn't be just in any event when you hope for an audience with the king." I said, "I do, My Lord. Very much. I must get one." "I understand. Some things, anyway. You've no friends at court? None? Ah. Your face says otherwise. Who is he?" "She, My Lord. Princess Morcaine. Anyway I hope she's my friend, but I don't want to bother her unless I have to." The Earl Marshal wiped his face with his hand, then wiped his hand on his coat. "That, I ought to have guessed long ago. This isn't one of my brilliant days. As to her friendship, who knows? It's the wind. I myselfwell, I hope you don't find her friendship worse than her enmity" It seemed a good time to say nothing, so I did. "I ask you again. Who sends your message to the king? We'll send the boy away if it suits you." "I think it better not to talk about that, My Lord." "As you wish." The Earl Marshal gave Cloud a final pat, and turned away. "I like you, Sir Able. I'll do what I can for you, but there are risks I cannot take." "He's no common knight, My Lord, as I told you." Wistan sounded older than his years. "You're wise to go carefully. You'd be wiser still to make a friend of him, if you can." The Earl Marshal nodded as though to himself. "I will soon try. First, Sir Able, I can't ask an audience with the king at which you'll deliver a message of which I'm ignorant. You will not so much as confide the name of the sender. Will you? This is your final opportunity." "I won't, My Lord." It was not as cold as it had been in Jotunland, but the stable was unheated and open in scores of places; I drew my cloak about me. "As for confiding the message itself, I can't. It is not in my power to do it." "You are bound by an oath, eh?" "No, My Lord. I don't know what it is." "Yet you could deliver it to the king?" "Yes, My Lord. I'll know it, My Lord, when we meet." Wistan said, "There's but one way to discover it, My Lord, and if the words are ungracious you can't be blamed." "You know little of the world." The Earl Marshal turned to me. "I can't run the risk of begging an audience for you, not with the best of wills. I hope you understand." "I'm grateful for your good wishes, My Lord." "I proffer two suggestions. The first depends on me, the second on you. Here's the first, if you wish it. When the time seems ripe, I will inform the king that a strange knight has come with news from the north, that he reports King Gilling fallen, and a new king in Utgardwith many marvels. It isn't improbable the king will ask that you be brought before him. Shall I do it? The choice is yours." "I beg you to. I'll be indebted forever, My Lord." "The second. You are a stout knight and overthrew all who challenged you in the north. There will be a tourney in three days, as always at Yeartide. You could enter those events at which you may excel. Those who greatly distinguish themselves will be entertained by the king and queen." I vowed that I would strive to be among them, and he dismissed me.

CHAPTER THIRTY MORCAINE'S SUMMONS

After taking my leave, I sought out the pursuivant of the Nykr King of Arms, as King Arnthor's herald was styled, he being charged with enrolling those who would enter the lists. He was away in the town; I waited until the short day was ended and rode back to our inn. That I was out of sorts I will not deny. I was curt with Pouk and Uns, although less so when I considered that I had gone far toward making a friend of the Earl Marshal, a most influential official of the court, that he was to speak to the king about me, and that I might hope to win an audience in the tournament. I was making ready for bed when Wistan came. He bowed, apologized for his conduct, and declared I might beat him if I wished. I said, of course, that since he was no longer my squire I had no business beating himthat squires were beaten so they would be better knights by and by, and I was no longer concerned to make a knight of him. "I pray you will reconsider, Sir Able. I behaved badly. I acknowledge it. Sir Svon told me he behaved badly when he was your squire. You never dismissed him, and before you left us, you knighted him." "Sir Svon fought the dragon, Wistan." I made my tone as dry as I could. Only his eyes reminded me that I had not. "Reason and honor forbade it. You know I bear a dragon on my shield, perhaps you know also why it is there." He nodded. "Toug told me. Is it really true?" "Since I don't know what he told you, I can't say." I yawned. "You came so I could beat you? I won't. Now go." He shook his head. "I came so you could take me back." "I won't do that, either." "You involve me in great difficulties, Sir Able." He looked frightened. "Would you see me hung up and flogged?" I shrugged. "It'll kill my mother. She's proud of all of usI've got two sistersbut proudest of me. They'll say the king did it. It won't be true, but they'll say it and it'll kill her." I said I doubted that anyone would do it. "Are you afraid, Wistan, that I'll tell the Earl Marshal you ought to be flogged? I won't. You have my word." "He'll take me into his service, Sir Able. He said so." "I congratulate you." "II'd have nice clothes like Payn's. I'd live very comfortably. Good food and money. A warm bed." "Then take it." "I want to be a knight. Like Sir Garvaon. Like you." It hung in the air between us until I hugged him. When I released him, he gasped like Baki. "I Does this mean I'm your squire again?" "If you wish it. Yes." "I do." I called Org, and he came forward to stand at my side. "Is this to frighten me? I've seen him before, in the wood with Sir Svon." "I know," I said. "You were frightened just the same." Wistan nodded. "I still am." "Then you see that you may be afraid without dashing out of the room." He nodded. "A knight's actions are governed by his honor," I said, "not by his fear." "You said something like that before." "I'll say it again, over and over, in as many ways as I can. Knowing it isn't enough. It has to become part of you. Why were you afraid they'd flog you?" "They won't now. I'll tell you, but I need to tell you something else first. I told the Earl Marshal about going to Jotunland. How we set out and how you joined us. How you and Sir Garvaon rode down from the pass to fight when the giants attacked, and Utgard. Everything I knew." "Did you tell him who killed King Gilling?" Wistan shook his head. "No. I don't know. I said I thought it was Schildstarr or one of the giants with him, because I do. But I can't be sure. The important thing is that I told him about you. I told him Toug saw you die, but you came back to help us anyway. I told him everything I knew, and he made me swear to certain things. That was one, and Queen Idnn's bringing a hundred giant women was another. I pointed my sword to Skai and swore like he wanted, and he said the women would be the testthat when the women came he'd know I was telling the truth and take me. So he knows all that. Everything I know about Jotunland." I nodded. "He knows about Toug and Etela and Lady Lynnet getting lost in Aelfrice, and you coming there, and Sir Garvaon and Sir Svon. He already knows you can read that book." Wistan gulped. "Of course he does. But can he read it as well? That's an interesting point." "I guess so. He wouldn't have it if he couldn't read it, would he?" "Of course he would. Books are extremely valuable. It takes a copyist years to copy one, and who know what errors he will introduce? Every book is valuable, and the older a copy is the more valuable it is. If the Earl Marshal couldn't read it, he might hope to find someone who could." Wistan nodded again. "I'll try to find out." He had suggested another test, and I called Uri. She stepped out of the fire, slender and quite naked. Wistan took it with more coolness than I expected and strove to keep his eyes off heror when she spoke, on her face. She, who had always been beautiful, this night seemed more lovely than ever, willow-slender, graceful, and glowing; I soon realized that having learned she could not seduce me, she was exerting herself on Wistan. I told him then that he must leave. He hesitated, his hand on the latch. "There's something else. I'll tell you when I come back, all right?" "I'll be asleep. Tell me now." "I had them put down your name for a lot of things in the tournament, Sir Able. I knew you'd wanted to, so I found the pursuivant and told him I was your squire and he did it. That's why I said they'd flog me if you didn't take me back." "As they would have, I'm sure. You did well, however. What events?" "Bow, halbert, joust, and melee." "You said there were many. Only four?" "Bow is two, really. Dismounted and mounted." I nodded and waved him out. As soon as the door had shut, Uri abased herself and pleaded for mercy. I made her stand, adding that I had not decided whether I would spare her life. That was a lieI had no intention of killing herbut I felt it might be good for her to keep her in suspense. "I have always loved you, Lord. More than Baki. More thanthan anyone." "More than Queen Disiri of the Moss Aelf." "Y-yes, Lord. More than sh-she." "This though she never betrayed me." "She was no slave to S-Setr, Lord. I was." "Baki was Setr's slave as well." "Y-yes." She would not meet my eyes. "When Baki's spine was broken, you would not bring me to her to heal her." She stood a trifle straighter. "Another brought you, Lord, but you did not heal her. The boy did it. Not that boy. The other." "Toug. I'm going to ask three things of you, Uri. If you do what I ask, I'll spare your life. Not otherwise. Do you understand? Two are just questions, and none are hard." She bowed. "I am your slave." "The first. Why did you come, when you knew I might kill you? You could have stayed in Aelfrice." "Because you will not always be here, Lord. In Aelfrice you would have hunted me down, you with your hound," she gestured toward Gylf, "and the queen with her pack. I hoped to save my life by obedience and contrition." "You talk bravely," I told her, "but your lip trembles." "In fear of one it would p-prefer to k-kiss, Lord." "We'll let that go by, Uri. You came. I appreciate it. It's a point in your favor, undeniably." Org had edged nearer, and I saw that he intended to catch her if she tried to flee. "Here's the second. The Earl Marshal has a book written in Aelfrice." I saw that I had surprised her. "I want you to discover whether he can read it, and what his connection with Aelfrice may be." "I will try, Lord. I will learn all I can." "Good. Here's the last, and the other question. It's in two parts. As I was getting to sleep, someone warned me there was magic in the gifts Wistan brought. Was it you?" She nodded. "I will always seek to serve you, Lord." "Why didn't you remain and tell me more?" "I was in fear. Thatthat has not changed, Lord." "Of the magic?" She shook her head. "Of you, Lord." "Is the magic in all my gifts? Or in one alone?" "You ask what you already know, Lord." "So you get an easy answer, and save your life." Gylf raised his head and looked quizzically at me. "In one, Lord. In the helm. You know it." "But I do not know whose gift it was. Do you?" "Yes, Lord. Borda gave it. I watched the giving." "Have you any idea why she gave it?" "No, Lord." I studied Uri's face, although I could seldom pick up on her fabrications. "None at all?" "None, Lord. Shall I try to find out?" "Not now. I've worn the helm. Nothing took place. Do you know its secret?" Uri shook her head. "I do not, Lord. If I discover it, I will tell you." "Are you afraid of it?" "Yes, Lord. As of you." I glanced at Org, trying to tell him with my eyes that he was not to harm her. When it seemed he understood, I got out the old helm. When I straightened up, she was struggling in his grasp. I told her to be still, and put on the helm. Org held a writhing thing shaped of flame and offal, of dung and blazing straw and such tripes as might be taken from a goat a week dead. Gylf snarled as if he saw it as I had, and he was a dog of gold with carnelian eyes. Several days intervened between the night I saw Uri writhing in the grip of a monster of swarming vermin and the opening of the tournament. They held little of interest. Uri I let flee as soon as I took off the helm. I did not put it back on in that time, nor did I call for her again. If I must refer to any of those days as my account goes on, I will describe it when I need it. The first day was for quarterstaff competition among churls. I could have entered, and I was tempted to. If I had, my participation in the joust and the melee would surely have been called into question. I watched with interest instead, as did some other knights. It was the custom of the castle to match the man thought most likely to win with the man thought least likely, number two in the standings (judged by the pursuivant) with a beginner, and so on. Thus the first round, in which everyone fought at the same time, was over quickly, and quicker because no armor was allowed except a jerkin and a leather cap. In the second each pair fought alone, the pairing determined by the order in which each man had won in the first: the one who had won first fought the one who had won last, and so on. Speed and agility count a lot with the quarterstaff, so none of the matches were long; even so, some lasted longer than it might take to saddle a restive horse. In two, the fighters were slow to close. They were circled with a rope drawn tighter by the pursuivant's servants until one went down. The second day was archery on foot. If I had still had the bowstring Parka cut for me, I would have won easily. I did not, and although my score was good, several others did better. One dined with King Arnthor and Queen Gaynor, but I did not. The third was the day for mounted archery. We shot at a false target of braided straw, which held the arrows well and did not damage the heads. Gilt stood for the boss in the middle, and to strike the gold (that was how they said it) scored highest of all. Each rider rode full tilt at the false target and shot when he wanted to. Those who did not spur their mounts got a penalty, but many chose slow horses. I rode Cloud, and might have overtaken a swallow that flitted along the bailey. Fast though I rode, my first arrow hit the gold, and the onlookers cheered. As we trotted back to the starting line, I heard a dozen voices ask about the knight with a dragon on his shieldand Wistan's answer: "He's His Grace Duke Marder's Sir Able of Redhall, and I'm his squire." For the second shot, I rode as hard as before, and that, too, hit the gold. No voices rose this time, but a silence louder than any applause. Of the third I was completely confident. My first and second shots had struck gold. I had the feel of the exercise now, and Cloud had it as well. A third gold seemed certain. That night I would eat at Arnthor's table, deliver Disiri's message, take leave of her (a years-long leave dotted with ten thousand kisses), and go to the Valfather to beg some occasion when I could return to her, knowing that if I were gone a century it would seem to her in Aelfrice only a day or two. I rode and my bowstring broke. I had given Vil the bowstring he had stolen from me, and had begged another from one of His Grace's archers. Here I will spare the reproaches I heaped upon myself that day. I told myself a dozen times that I could easily have gotten a new string for the tourney, that I ought never to have been parted with Parka's string, and much, much more. None of it did any good. No one scored three golds, but three got two and a black. They dined with the king and queen, and I did not. The next day was devoted to footraces, climbing greased poles, and catching greased pigs. Half crazy for something to do, I watched most of it. Wistan and I were leaving when we were stopped by a page who bowed prettily and informed us that the Countess of Chaus wished to speak with me. I said I was the countess's to command, and we followed him through passages and up and down stairs to a little private garden where a girl with hair like a bouquet of yellow roses waited in a snow-covered arbor. I knelt, and she invited me to sit across from her. Although at a distance, I had seen the queen by then; and it seemed to me that this young noblewoman, with her high color and mixed air of boldness and timidity, resembled her closely. To tell you the truth, I thought she was probably a sister or a cousin. "You are Sir Able of the High Heart?" She cooed; it should have been annoying, but it was charming. "I watched you yesterday. You're a wonderful bowman." "A careless bowman, My Lady. I trusted my old string, and lost." "Not my admiration." She smiled. "Will you wear my scarf for the rest of tournament?" She proffered it as she spoke, a white wisp of the finest silk. "There's a dragon on my helm," I told her, "and they couch on treasures. Mine will couch on this." When I had taken leave and Wistan and I were making our way back, he whispered, "That's the queen. Did you know?" I stared. "Countess of Chaus will be one of her titles. They do that when they don't want to be too formal." Ready to kick myself again, I shook my head. "I would have begged her for an audience with the king if I'd known." "You couldn't. That's one of the things it means. You have to pretend she's whoever she says she is. She would've been mad, and her knights might have killed you." "I didn't know she had her own knights." "Well, she does. She has the titles and all that land." "How many?" I was still trying to digest the new fact. "Ten or twenty, probably." When we had ridden across the moat I asked, "If she has her own knights, shouldn't she give her favor to one?" Wistan spoke with the weary wisdom of a courtier. "They want to give it to the one they think will win." In my room I consulted Gylf. First I told him what had passed between the queen and me. When he understood, I said, "One point has me guessing I should've told Wistan, but I doubt that

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