The Knight

Chapter 5. Terrible Eyes

Something that sounded like a scuffle woke me up. I heard Svon’s voice and Ravd’s; and I decided that if I did not want to start another fight, the best thing might be for me to lie there and listen.

“I stumbled.” That was Svon.

Ravd said, “No one pushed you?”

“I said I stumbled!”

“I know you did. I wish to discover whether you will verify it. It appeared to me that you had been pushed from behind. Was I wrong?”

“Yes!”

“I see. You have your sword again.”

“I found it in the bushes. Do you think I’d come back here without it?”

“I don’t see why not.” Ravd sounded as though the question interested him. “If you mean you might need it to deal with our guide, it wasn’t of great use to you an hour ago.”

“We might be attacked.”

“By the outlaws? Yes, I suppose we might.”

“Are you going to sleep in your armor?”

“Certainly. It’s one of the things a knight must learn to do.” Ravd sighed. “Many years before either of us was born, a wise man said that there were only three things a knight had to learn. I believe I told you a week ago, though it may have been more. Can you tell me what-they are now?”

“To ride.” Svon sounded as if it were being dragged out of him. “To use the sword.”

“Very good. And?”

“To speak the truth.”

“Indeed,” Ravd murmured. “Indeed. Shall we begin again? Or would you prefer to omit that part?”

If Svon said anything, I could not hear it.

“I’ve been sitting here awake since you ran away, you see. Talking to our guide at first, and talking to myself after he went to sleep. Thinking, in other words. One of the things I thought about was the way he threw your sword. I saw it. Perhaps vou did as well.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Then you need not. But I will have to talk about it more, because you won’t. When a man throws a heavy object such as a sword or spear for distance, he uses his whole body—his legs and torso, as well as his arm. Able did not do that. He simply flung your sword away as a man might discard an apple core. I think—”

“Who cares what you think!”

“Why, I do.” Ravd’s voice was as smooth as polished steel, and sounded a good deal more dangerous. “And you must, Svon. Sir Sabel beat me twice, once with his hands and once with the flat of his sword. I was Sir Sabel’s squire for ten years and two. No doubt I’ve told you.”

Maybe Svon nodded. I could not see.

“With the flat of his sword because I attacked him. He would have been entirely justified in killing me, but he was a good and a merciful knight—a better knight than I will ever be. With his hands for something I had said to him, or something I had failed to say. I never did find out exactly what it was. He was drunk at the time—but then we all get drunk now and then, don’t we?”

“You don’t.”

“Because he was, I found it less humiliating than I would have otherwise. Perhaps I said that I cared nothing for his thoughts. That seems likely enough.

“Able flung your sword as a man flings dung, or any such object. I believe I said that. He merely cast it from him, in other words, making no effort toward great distance or force. If you were to cast a hurlbatte so, I would chastise you. With my tongue, I mean.”

Svon spoke then, but I could not hear what he said.

“It may be so. My point is that your sword cannot have been thrown far.

Three or four strides, I would think. Five at most. Yet I didn’t hear you searching for it in the dark, and I expected to. I was listening for it.”

“I stepped on it,” Svon said. “I didn’t have to look for it at all.”

“One resolves not to lie, but one always resolves to begin one’s new truthfulness at a later time. Not now.” Ravd sounded tired.

“I’m not lying!”

“Of course you are. You stepped upon your sword, four strides southeast of where I sit. You uttered no grunt of astonishment, no exclamation. You bent in silence and picked it up. You would have had to grope for the hilt, I believe, since you would not wish to lay hands on a sharp blade in the dark. You then returned it to its scabbard, a scabbard of wood covered with leather, without a sound. After that, you returned to our camp from the west, tripping over something with such violence that you almost fell into the fire.”

Svon moaned like one in pain, but spoke no word.

“You must have been running to trip as hard as that and come near to falling. Were you? Running through a strange forest in the dark?”

“Something caught me.”

“Ah. Now we’re come to it. At least, I hope so. What was it?”

“I don’t know.” Svon drew breath. “I ran away. Was your churl chasing me?”

“No,” Ravd said.

“Well, I thought he was, and I ran right into somebody. Only I don’t think it was really a person. A—a ghost or something.”

“Interesting.”

“There were several.” Svon seemed to have taken heart. “I can’t say how many. Four or five.”

“Go on.” I could not tell whether Ravd believed him.

“They gave me back my sword and brought me here, and they pushed me at our fire, hard, just like you said.”

“Saying nothing to you?”

“No.”

“Did you thank them for returning your sword?”

“No.”

“Perhaps they gave you a charm or a letter? Something of that kind?”

“No.”

“Did they take our horses?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Go now and see to them, please, Svon. See that they’re well tied, and haven’t been ridden.”

“I don’t—Sir Ravd ...”

“Go!”

Svon cried, and right then I wanted to sit up and say something—anything that might make him feel better. I was going to say that I would go, but that would just have made him feel worse.

When he stopped crying, Ravd said, “They frightened you very badly, whoever they were. You’re more afraid of them than you are of me or our guide. Are they listening to us?”

“I don’t know. I think so.”

“And you’re afraid that if you confide in me they’ll punish you for it?”

“Yes!”

“I doubt it. If they are indeed listening, they must have heard that you didn’t confide in me. Able, you are awake. Sit up, please, and look at me.”

I did.

“How much have you heard?”

“Everything, or nearly. How did you know I was awake?”

“When you were truly asleep, you stirred in your sleep half a dozen times, and twice seemed almost to speak. Once you snored a little. When you feigned sleep, you moved not a muscle and uttered not a sound, though we were talking in ordinary tones within two strides of you. So you were awake or dead.”

“I didn’t want Svon to feel worse than he did already.”

“Admirable.”

I said, “I’m sorry I threw your sword, Svon.”

“Who caught Svon and returned him to us? Do you know?”

I had no idea. I shook my head.

Svon wiped his nose. “They gave me a message for you, Able. You are to be sure that your playmate is looking out for you.”

I suppose I gawked.

Ravd said, “Who are these friends of yours, Able?”

“I think ...”

“The outlaws?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Couldn’t it be the Aelf?”

Ravd looked thoughtful. “Svon, did you intend Able’s death?”

“Yes, I did.” There were no tears now; he drew his dagger and handed it to me. “I was going to kill you with this. You may keep it if you want to.”

I turned it over in my hands. The tip was angled down to meet a long straight edge.

“It’s a saxe.” Svon sounded as if we were sharing food and passing the time. “It’s like the knives the Frost Giants carry. Of course theirs are much bigger.”

I said, “You were going to kill me with this?” and he nodded.

Ravd asked, “Why are you telling us this now, Svon?”

“Because I was told to give their message to him as soon as he woke up, and I think they’re listening.”

“So you said.”

“I was hoping you’d go to sleep. Then I could have awakened him, and whispered it. That was what I wanted.”

“You’d never have had to tell me what happened.”

Svon nodded.

“I don’t want it,” I said. I gave him his dagger back. “I have a knife of my own, and I like mine better.”

“You may as well tell us everything,” Ravd said; and Svon did.

“I didn’t run into them like I said. I ran into a tree, and hit it hard enough that I fell down. When I could I got up again and circled around your fire, keeping it only just in sight. When I was on the side where Able was, I got as close as I dared, and that was pretty close. You said you would have heard me if I had found my sword. I don’t think so, because you didn’t hear that. I was waiting for you to go to sleep. When I was sure you were sleeping, I was going to kill him as quietly as I could and carry his body away and hide it. I wouldn’t come back until tomorrow afternoon, and you’d think he had simply run away.

“They grabbed me from behind, making less noise than I had. They had swords and bows. They took me to a clearing where I could see them a little in the moonlight, and they told me that if I hurt Able I’d belong to them. I’d have to slave for them for the rest of my life.”

Ravd stroked his chin.

“They gave me that message and made me say it seven times, and swear on my sword that I’d do everything exactly the way they said.”

“They had your sword?”

“Right.” The kind of sarcasm I was going to get to know a lot better crept into Svon’s voice. “I don’t know how they got it without your hearing, but they had it.”

Recalling things Bold Berthold had told me, I asked whether they were black.

“No. I don’t know what color they were, but it wasn’t black. They looked pale in the moonlight.”

Ravd said, “Able thinks they might be Aelf. So do I. I take it they didn’t identify themselves?”

“No, but—It could be right. I know they weren’t people like us.”

“I’ve never seen them. Have you, Able?”

I said, “Not that I remember, but Bold Berthold has. He said the ones who bothered him were like ashes or charcoal.”

Ravd turned back to Svon. “You must tell me everything you remember about them, just as truthfully as you can. Or did they caution you not to?”

Svon shook his head. “They said to give Able their message when he woke, and never to hurt him. That was all.”

“Why is Able precious to them?”

“They wouldn’t tell.”

“Able? Do you know?”

“No.” I wished then that Ravd had not seen I was awake. “They want me to do something, but I don’t know what it is.”

Svon said, “Then how do you know they do?”

I did not answer.

“Our king was born in Aelfrice,” Ravd told me, “as was his sister, Princess Morcaine. Since you didn’t recognize his face on a scield, I doubt that you knew it.”

“I didn’t,” I said.

“I don’t believe my squire credits it—or at least, I believe he did not until now, though he may have changed his opinion.”

Svon told me, “People talk as if Aelfrice were a foreign country, like Osterland. Sir Ravd says it’s really another world. If it is, I don’t see how people can come here from there. Or go there either.”

Ravd shrugged. “And I, who have never done it, cannot tell you. I can tell you, however, that it’s not wise to deny everything you can’t understand. How were your captors dressed? Could you see?”

“They weren’t, as far as I could see. They were as naked as poor children. They were tall, though—taller than I am, and thin.” His breath caught in his throat. “They had terrible eyes.”

“Terrible in what way?”

“I can’t explain it. They held the moonlight and made it burn. It hurt to look at them.”

Ravd sat in silence for a minute or two after that, his hand stroking his chin. “One more question, Svon, then we must sleep. All of us. It’s late already, and we should be up early. You said that there were four or five of them. Was that the truth?”

“About that many. I couldn’t be sure.”

“Able, put a little more wood on the fire, since you’re up. How many could you be sure of, Svon?”

“Four. Three were men. Males, or whatever you call them. But I think there may have been more.”

“The fourth was female, I take it. Did she speak?”

“No.”

“How many males did?”

“Three.”

Ravd yawned, which may have been play-acting. “Lie down, Svon. Sleep if you can.”

Svon spread a blanket for himself and lay down on it.

Ravd said, “I believe you will be safe, Able. From Svon, at least.”

I suppose I nodded; but I was thinking how another world might seem like it was just another country, and about yellow eyes that burned with moonlight like a cat’s.