The Wizard

Chapter 23. The Battle Of Utgard

I did, of course, in the purse Duke Marder had given me. Nevertheless, I turned to Uri. “Bring us a gold coin, and promptly. Any minting will do—whatever you can find.”

“For this?” She sounded angry.

“Are you my slave, or have you dropped that pretense?”

She knelt as Vil had. “There is no pretense, Lord.”

“Then do as you’re told, and quickly.”

When she was gone, Mani muttered, “She’ll steal it.”

“Of course she will.”

Vil cleared his throat, his homely, sightless face not quite turned to mine. “Maybe now? My arm’s got wrenched—”

“In the fight at the marketplace.”

“Right. One hit me, maybe. I never done much.”

“A blind man fighting giants.”

“I can hear, and I can feel. I’m strong, too. I always was. In my trade it helps, but smithing got me stronger than I was when I come. Hammering, you know, and all that. So I thought maybe I could help, so I got one by the leg and threw him. Only the next one hit me or fetched me a kick and after that I couldn’t do much. What it is, Sir Able—”

Uri returned, proudly holding a gold coin stamped with the features of King Gilling.

“Here is a gold coin.” I handed it to Vil. “Now take it from my ear if you can.”

“Ain’t easy, Sir Able, conjuring when you can’t see.”

“I never supposed it was easy, even for the sighted.”

“Is it real gold?” He bit the coin and swallowed it. “Not bad! ‘Bout twelve carat. From the taste, you know. Want me to try to get it out of my belly?”

Though he could not see me, I nodded. “If you can.”

“I’ll try.” His hands groped for me. “I got to touch your ears, Sir Able. Main sorry for that, but I got to, so’s to know where they is. Hope my hands ain’t too dirty.”

I told him to go ahead.

“Taller’n I thought.”

It was somehow disquieting to have a face that showed evidence of many beatings this close to mine.

“You can hear me, can’t you?”

I said I could.

“Ought to hear better in a minute. Where’s that Uri?” She said nothing until I told her she must answer.

“Come here, Uri. I can’t see, so you got to be eyes for me. Look in his ear, will you? You see that gold in there?”

“Only his thoughts,” Uri said, looking into my ear.

“Why, you’re blind as me. Watch sharp.” He displayed a coin. “Where’d that come from, Uri? Tell Sir Able here.”

“From your ear, Lord.” She grimaced. “So it appeared.”

I said, “May I see the coin again, Vil?”

He handed me a large coin, much worn and tarnished.

“This is a brass cup of Celidon,” I told him. “The coin you had just now was gold.”

“No, it warn’t, Sir Able. I know I said, but I didn’t want you show you up in front of this girl and the boy that makes his cat talk. You see, Sir Able—”

“I do, and I saw it was gold. Produce it!”

He knelt again, his blind eyes upturned, his hands outspread. “Am I a man would lie to you? Not never! Truthful Vil’s what they call me, Master. You ask anybody.”

“And you, Truthful Vil, say the coin wasn’t gold?”

“I do, Master. Look here.” He held out an empty hand.

Uri said, “The coin I brought was gold, Lord.”

I nodded. “I’m looking, as you asked, Truthful Vil. But there’s no gold in your hand.”

“There ain’t?” He seemed genuinely puzzled.

“No. None.”

“I can’t see myself, Sir Able, being blind, you know. Only I feel it this minute—feel the weight.” He clenched his fist. “There! I got it!” He opened his hand once more, and a shinning coin lay in the palm.

I took it. “This is a brass farthing, polished bright.”

“I know, Sir Able, ‘twas the coin I showed you, Master. A brass one, only I’d rubbed it clean.”

“I had heard of conjurers, but until now I had never seen one. You must be one of the best.”

He bowed and thanked me.

“Now I must require that gold piece of you. Uri and I will be through in a few minutes. When we are, she will have to return it to its owner. Do you know where it is, Uri?”

She shook her head. “You must beat him, Lord.”

Vil raised his hands as if to fend off a blow. “You wouldn’t hit a man what can’t see, Sir Able. Not you!”

“You’re right,” I told him, “I wouldn’t. But I’d cut one open to see whether he’d really swallowed my gold.” I drew my dagger so that he might hear the blade leaving the scabbard. “No one calls me Truthful Able, but I’m truthful in this: what I say I’ll do, I’ll do. Produce that coin.”

“I hid it under the cat, Sir Able.”

Mani rose and took two steps to his left, and the big gold coin of Jotunland Uri had brought lay on the windowsill.

She picked it up. “Do you want to examine it, Lord?”

I shook my head. “If you’re satisfied, I’m satisfied.”

Vil said, “That’s how we do, Sir Able. Only what we do is tell them it’s a good ways away. Under that wagon over there, we’ll say, or in the shoe of that man with the red hair. Him being, you know, the one that looks like he can run fast. If you’ve done everything right, why they believe it and look, and while they’re doing it you run. Hide, if you can. I used to be good at it. Course I couldn’t, now, but it’s how I used to do anytime somebody fetched gold.”

Uri said, “Surely you have seen enough now, Lord, to understand why the child fears him.”

“Seen enough, but not heard enough. I’ll do that later. You want me to come to Aelfrice at once?”

She nodded.

“To fight Kulili for you. Not long ago, Baki wanted me to come to Aelfrice to fight Garsecg. I won’t do either one ‘til I finish here.”

“You say years would pass here, Lord, but the difference is not as great as you suppose. You may take a year here—ten!”

“I’ll come when I’m ready. When I do, I’ll fight Kulili as I promised. If I live, I may or may not lead you against Garsecg—no promises. Now take that coin back.”

She faded as I spoke, and was gone.

Mani said, “Just between the three of us, and before she comes back to spy, do you think you can beat this Garsecg?”

I shrugged. “I killed Grengarm.”

“And he killed you, dear owner.”

I could not help smiling. “You see, you know more about it than I do, Mani.”

“I don’t even know who Kulili is.”

“You won’t learn it from me today. Do you know who Garsecg is?”

Mani looked smug as only a cat can. “He’s a dragon.”

“Who told you?”

“You did, dear owner. I asked if you could beat Garsecg and you replied that you had killed Grengarm. Grengarm was a dragon—Toug told me about your battle with him. Therefore Garsecg is another dragon. Elementary. You know who stabbed King Gilling, too, don’t you?”

I shook my head.

“Of course you do. I heard what you told Lord Thiazi. You know, you just can’t prove it.”

“I don’t want to,” I told him, and turned to Vil. “Mani here wanted to be the last to talk to me,and both girls have had their shot. What do you want to talk about?”

“Help, sir. That’s all. Can I say first off nothin’ I heard will go farther? I don’t think you’d like me blabbing it, and I won’t.”

I thanked him.

“Master Toug’s talked to me, sir. He says I’m his only I’ll be free once we get south. That true, Sir Able? Seemed like he believed it.”

“As far as I know. I don’t know much more about our country than your master does. Less, perhaps.”

“Well, Sir Able, I’m blind. You wonder why I fought ’em? Why we all did? I can’t ever forgive it. Never. I wish I could, only I can’t.”

“Once I dreamed of returning here with an army and driving them out,” I told him. “I doubt that I ever will.”

“So the thing is, Sir Able...” He groped for me, and I gave him my hand.

“The thing is, how’m I going to eat when we get south? I know the conjuring trade and can still do it some. You see how I worked them coins?”

“No,” I said. “I watched you closely, but I did not.”

“Only I can’t live like that no more. If I was to take their gold boy and run...” He laughed bitterly. “How far’d I get, you think?”

Mani murmured, “You told us you could hide. I do that at times myself.”

“You got eyes. A man that can’t see can’t keep out of sight. If I was to try now, you’d laugh.” Vil’s face had never turned from mine. He seemed to collect himself, and said, “I got my new master, Sir Able. Only he wants to be a farmer like his pa. People like that, they don’t have enough to eat. That’s why I left to start with. What’re they goin’ to do with a slave that can’t see?”

“I would hope them too kind to drive him out,” I said.

“So I thought I might ask him to sell me while he’s still here.” Vil drew a deep breath. “The others, they went to Sir Svon, and he’s goin’ to is what I think. That’s Rowd, and Gif and Alca. He’ll let ’em go cheap and raise what he can. The women ain’t worth much, but Rowd ought to fetch a bit. Only there’s the girl and her mother, Sir Able.”

“Etela and Lady Lynnet? I don’t think you have to worry about Toug’s sellin’ them.”

“How it was at Master Logi’s, Sir Able, was a woman for each man. Gif for Rowd, you know, and Alca for Sceef. So Lynnet for me, it was supposed to be. Only she wasn’t right, Sir Able. Not right... Maybe I ought not say. Sometimes we did, you know? Only not often, and I never did feel right about it. But I tried to keep track of the girl. You won’t trust nothing I say. I know that and don’t blame you.”

“That depends on what it is, Truthful Vil.” Wearied by the hassock, which afforded no rest for my back, I climbed into the chair it served.

“I didn’t touch her, nor let anybody. You take my meaning? It was gettin’ worse as she got older. There’s them that’ll hump a pig. Maybe you think I’m jokin’.”

“No.”

“Makin’ monsters, for what’s born of such you wouldn’t like to meet, and they live sometimes. So there’s them that would’ve jumped her in a minute. I took care and kept her close, and spanked her, too, if she talked back or run off. Said I’d turn her into a doll to keep her close by. So she’s feared, Sir Able, like you said. Only I...”

“Love her.”

He coughed. “Yes, sir. And her mama too. Her mama’s a fine, fine woman. A high-class woman.”

“A noblewoman, the daughter of a baronet.”

“Is she, Sir Able? I didn’t know. You said I loved Etela, and you weren’t wrong neither. Only...”

“I understand. What do you want of me?”

“Help, Sir Able. That’s all. Etela, she’ll stay with Master Toug if she can. But her mama can’t look out for her nor for herself neither. I would if I could. But—but...”

“My owner is a kind and a chivalrous knight,” Mani said; there was a note in his voice I had not heard before.

“If I could work for you, Sir Able? After we get south, I mean. I wouldn’t ask no pay. Not a farthin’. Only that you’d help with Lynnet, and Etela too if she needs it.”

“Lady Lynnet may not want your help,” I told him.

“I know it, Sir Able. Only that’s not to say she don’t need it. She ain’t right. And many’s the time I’ve took care when she didn’t want me, and Etela the same. You ask her, and if you get truth out of her you’ll hear it.”

“No doubt.”

“Only she’ll cry. It’ll be a while, you know? Before she gets over that. Will you help me, sir? All right, I’m blind. But you ain’t, you can see these arms.” He flexed his muscles, which were impressive. “I’ll work hard. If you don’t think I’m working enough, you tell me, Master.”

Mani muttered, “Work hard and steal.”

“You tell that boy to swaller it, Master. Not from you, nor from Master Toug, nor any other friends you got I won’t.”

“All right,” I told him, “you may serve me in the south, provided we can find nothing better.”

He surprised me, not for the last time. Groping toward the sound of my voice, he found my feet, which reached the edge of the chair, and kissed them. Before I could recover, he was at the door. He turned, and where his empty eye sockets had been, there were two staring—in fact, glaring—eyes of bright blue. Then the door shut behind him.

“That was a trick,” Mani said.

“I know. I wish it hadn’t been.”

“Pouk’s was better.” Mani sprang from his windowsill to the floor, trotted over to my chair, and with an astonishing leap caught the upholstery of the seat and pulled himself up. “Pouk made them think he was blind when he wasn’t.”

“He was already blind in one eye,” I said. “He has been as long as I’ve known him. Was that what you wanted to talk about, Mani? The thing so private you wanted to speak last?”

“No.” He settled into my lap.

“If you’d rather not say it, or prefer to wait...”

“I’ve helped you. Haven’t I earned a few minutes?”

I agreed, and sat stroking him for some while. Gylf (who had gone to the stable) scratched at the door; Mani asked me not to admit him; I called to him through the door, asking him to look in on Toug.

“I ducked into that place with you,” Mani began.

“The Room of Lost Love? I know.”

“You went with the madwoman, but I wasn’t interested in whatever love she might have lost. I went looking for my own. That was a mistake.” I continued to stroke him and said nothing.

“Once I was a free spirit. Once I was a normal cat, not troubled by lies.” Mani spoke slowly, and as it seemed, mostly to himself. “The first is the finest of existences, the second the finest of lives. I have lost both.”

He looked up at me, and there was far too much sorrow in his forlorn black face for me to find it amusing.

Schildstarr sat the throne that had been Gilling’s as if he had been there all his life, and Thiazi stood beside him with his gold staff as if he had served Schildstarr’s father before him. It was one of the times when I could see that the Angrborn were foreign, not just to us but to everything; the Valfather was not foreign to us at all: he was ours, as we were his.

“Your Majesty.” Beel bowed almost to the stone floor. “I congratulate you, not on my own behalf alone, but on my king’s, upon your ascension to the throne of your ancestors.”

Nor, I decided, were Uri, Baki, and the other Aelf alien in the same way. Kulili had modeled them on us.

“Hail King Schildstarr!”

“Hail!” Garvaon, Svon, and I, standing behind Beel and Idnn, pounded the floor with the butts of our lances.

Neither was Michael alien like that. He was, I think, what the Valfather himself might aspire to become, somebody good the way that a good blade is good, and one who saw the face of the Most High God.

Idnn’s lovely voice rang even among the cloudy rafters of that hideous hall. “Your Majesty! We, Idnn, a Queen of Jotunland, most humbly beg a boon.”

Even the dragons of Muspel belong to Muspel. They are demons to us, but not to themselves.

“Speak, Queen Idnn.”

Those oversized eyes, bigger than the eyes of owls, were made to see through the freezing black of Old Night; and Old Night (I have been there, although only on its edges) is not any of the seven worlds. It is not that the Angrborn always seem horrible. You get used to them. It is that they really are, that being horrible is being like the Angrborn.

“Our king is dead. Our husband is dead as well, for they were one and the same. It is the custom of our people, of the people of the south, Your Majesty, to mourn a husband for a year, a king for ten. Thus you see us in black, and in black we shall go for eleven years. Far to the south, Your Majesty, stands the castle of our girlhood. It is nothing compared to this Utgard of yours, yet it is dear to us, for it holds the room in which we slept as a child. With Your Majesty’s most generous, most compassionate leave we would go to that room, bar its door, and weep. To be at your court is glorious, but glory has no savor for widow’s weeds and tears. May we go? And with Your Majesty’s leave, may our father and his retainers give us escort?”

Beel bowed again. “My heart implores me to accompany my grieving daughter, Your Majesty. Equally my duty demands it. Our king dispatched me to King Gilling. I must apprise him of King Gilling’s death, and of the dawn of your splendid reign. Thus on my own behalf—may we depart?”

Wistan and Toug had gone to ready our horses for a quick getaway, and to tell Master Egr to see to the baggage. While Beel talked, I could not help wondering how they were coming.

“Before you go,” Schildstarr said slowly, “we might give you gifts for your king. How say you, Thiazi?”

He bowed. “I shall attend to it, Your Majesty.”

“Then we have your leave?” Beel took a short step back. “Words cannot express our gratitude, Your Majesty. May peace reign forever between these realms.”

Thiazi’s staff thumped the floor, the signal that the interview had ended. At a whispered order from Garvaon, we knights faced about. When walking with lances, you have to keep step; otherwise the lance-heads hit each other, and the pennants get fouled. We had practiced half the morning, and did well enough.

In the courtyard, I found Wistan, Toug, and Egr ready to depart. “There’ll be gifts,” I told them. “Gifts for King Arnthor, and we must wait ‘til they’re presented. Get those saddles off the horses, and get them back into their stalls.”

Wistan looked dismayed, Toug fatalistic.

“Don’t feel that you’ve wasted your effort. You’ve located everything and cleaned it up. We should be able to leave tomorrow with little delay, and that’s good. Now step closer. I don’t like having to shout at you.”

They gathered around me, even Lynnet.

“You’re to stay with the horses,” I said, “all of you. You must be here to take charge of the gifts. Lord Thiazi will present them to Lord Beel, and Sir Garvaon and Sir Svon will bring them to you. You have to stow them and protect them once they’ve been stowed. Except for Lady Lynnet and her daughter, not one of you is to leave without permission. Everybody understand?”

They nodded.

“Etela, you and your mother sleep in Toug’s room with Mani. If you’re not there when we leave, you may be left behind. Is that understood?”

Etela nodded solemnly.

“If your mother insists on leaving—”

Lynnet said, “I won’t.”

“Good. Thank you, My Lady. Etela, I was about to say that if she goes—if someone comes and takes her away, for example—tell me no matter how late it is. Or how early.”

“Yes, sir, Sir Able. I will.”

“Vil? Is Vil here?”

“Right here, Sir Able.” He raised his hand.

“Fine. If you can’t find me, Etela, tell Squire Toug or Vil. Is there anyone who doesn’t know what he’s to do?” No one spoke.

“Good. Queen Idnn has a diamond diadem, given her by her husband. King Schildstarr’s gifts to King Arnthor will have to equal or exceed that, I think. The danger of theft will be’very great, and if anything is stolen it will go hard with all of you—and very hard with the thief.”

Master Egr asked, “We leave in the morning, Sir Able?”

“I have to talk with you about that.” I drew him aside.

Here I am going to have write more about things I did not see. Woddet and Hela told me most of it.

Daybreak had found Marder’s party in the saddle. The War Way lay broad before them, nearly straight and spangled with frost. A league ahead it passed between boulders and heaped stones where it looked as if a rocky hill had been leveled. Beyond this low defile, they saw the towers of Utgard, towers so big you might think them shorter than they were, if it were not that their tops were so near Skai.

“We will eat our next meal in that castle,” Marder told Woddet; and Woddet said, “Yes, Your Grace, if those who are there already do not make a meal of us.”

Hela, loping beside him, pointed with the short spear she had made for herself from a broken lance. “Seeing that, admit that my father’s is no mean race.”

“I have never thought it was,” Woddet told her. “Though I have never fought the Sons of Angr, I’m eager to. I’m told that in all Mythgarthr there are no foes more fell.”

“Wounded as you are, dear Lord?”

“Wounded as I am,” Woddet replied stoutly.

“Now have you your wish.” Hela pointed again. “See you those stones? Do you, Duke Marder? And you, Sir Leort?”

The Knight of the Leopards said sharply, “They’re in plain view, surely.”

“Why no.” Hela grinned, showing big yellow teeth like knives. “Not so plain, sir knight. There is not a stone to be found there, for I have been this near Utgard and nearer. What you see are the Sons of Angr, crouching or sitting, with their heads covered by their cloaks, all sprinkled over with dust from the road.”

Marder reined up, his hand lifted so those behind him would stop as well. “They are waiting for us?”

Hela made him a bow. “So does it appear, Your Grace.”

The Knight of the Leopards said, “I will ride forward and see how these matters lie, Your Grace.”

“And perish, if Hela’s speaking truth?” Marder shook his head. “Do you serve Sir Able or Sir Woddet, Hela?”

“Sir Able formerly,” Hela replied, “and Sir Woddet presently, by Sir Able’s leave.”

“Sir Woddet. Is she to be trusted?”

Woddet smiled at her. “I would trust her with my life.”

“Then let us not distrust her to Sir Leort’s death.” Wheeling his mount, Marder gave orders; and when his archers had ridden within bowshot of the stones, they spread over the fields beside the War Way, dismounted, and let fly.

Roaring, the Angrborn rose; and we, their intended prey, who had left Utgard before dawn at my urging, heard the sound of battle, and riding with all haste took them from behind.

Not since I left Skai had I fought as I fought then, charging down screes of air to drive lance or sword into the upturned faces of the sons of the Giants of Winter and Old Night. The blows before Utgard, if I described them all, would fill a hundred pages. I will say only that once Eterne clove the skull of a Frost Giant to the jaw, and that though I tried to sweep the heads of Orgalmir and Borgalmir from their necks with a single blow, I failed, and that giant who had been two-headed fought on with one, though blood spurted from the severed neck as though to dye Mythgarthr.

Upon that and other blood, the grim ghosts brought by Eterne’s baring feasted, so that in the level rays of the morning sun they seemed no less than men, and their spectral blades rent palpable wounds, at which their owners grinned that cheerful grin we see in skulls, and slew again.

I have been writing too much about myself. Let me write about others. First, Marder. No one who saw him could have guessed there was white hair and a white beard under his helm. A lance and horse better managed I have never seen.

Beel fought too; and we who thought him dead found him under the corpse of Thrym, and gloried, laughed, and shouted to see him blink and gasp for air.

Toug, who had sworn never to fight again, fought and fell, and would I think have died that day were it not for Gylf—bigger than any lion, and more fierce—who stood over him until Wistan dragged him to safety.

As for the Knight of the Leopards, a leopard from his shield might have sprung to life. Lance broken and helm gone, he fought on; and I have rarely seen a brand fly that fast or cut that deep.

Wounded more sorely even than Toug, Woddet fought with Heimir to his left and Hela on his right. Three Angrborn fell to them, which should be one for each; but someone who swears that he knows (and should, since he watched from my saddlebag) said one was Woddet’s and two were Hela’s.

That I can well believe. The Lady stands shieldmaid to the Valfather, and I cannot compare Hela to her. But think of the goddess of a ruder nation, thick-limbed, tall as any rearing mare, with ravening mouth, flying hair, and blood-drenched spear. If I met Hela in battle, I might turn aside.

Marder and the Knight of the Leopards surprised me. I hope I have made that plain. Idnn surprised me too, plying her bow like the best, and taking cool aim when the battle was hottest. But no one surprised me that day more than Garvaon. I knew him for an able swordsman. I had thought him a prudent knight, careful and perhaps a bit cautious. He fought as furiously as Hela, with helmet and no helm, as he and Svon had fought King Gilling’s champions. Unhorsed, he fought all the harder, caught a horse whose rider had fallen, and charged into the thick of the fight once more.

So we had our furious fighters; no doubt I was one. We had our rocks as well. The Angrborn would have killed Idnn and scattered her bowwomen a dozen times had it not been for Svon and the servingmen he led, and in all honesty I doubt that Toug would have gone into the fight without his example.

It was, in short, one of those rare battles in which nearly everyone fought (although Berthold and Gerda did not, nor did the blind slaves, Etela and Lynnet, and the slave women), and in which everyone who fought, fought well. That said, it seemed to me that without Garvaon and the Knight of the Leopards we could not have won, and it was only through the Valfather’s grace that we won with them.

After the battle I took the rear guard—the Knight of the Leopards and his men, and ten of Marder’s; thus I had no chance to speak with the rest until we camped. It was late, black night, for we had ridden far, fearing pursuit. Pouk helped me out of my armor and began to clean and polish everything while Uns (returned by Idnn as she had promised) cooked for us. Persuaded by Berthold and Gerda, I lay down, and half asleep heard the whisperings of my bowstring: the lives and deaths of many men and women, and children, too—lives of toil mostly, of poverty and hunger. Perhaps I had just closed my eyes. Equally, I may have closed them an hour before. In any case, I was roused by Beel’s valet, who shook my shoulder calling, “Sir Able? Sir Able, sir?”

I sat up and asked what he wanted.

“It’s His Lordship, Sir Able. He’s—His Lordship would speak with you. His Lordship is far from well.”

Still half asleep, I stood. “Dying?”

“Oh, no, sir! I hope not, sir. But he—he cannot walk far, Sir Able. I mean, he would try, but we won’t let him. They won’t, sir. He wanted to come here, sir. He wanted me to support him so he wouldn’t fall. They wouldn’t allow it, Sir Able. The Queen, Sir Able, and His Grace. And I had to agree. So I came.” He paused, and cleared his throat. “If I give offense, sir, the fault is mine.”

Uns was trying to give me a bowl of stew and a spoon. The stew smelled delicious, and to silence him I accepted both and began to eat.

“If you would come, Sir Able...? I—I am aware you owe me nothing, but—”

“Nonsense. You spoke boldly in my defense, Swert. Do you think I’ve forgotten that?”

“You recall my name, Sir Able? That is—is... Well, sir, I—I confess—”

“Have you eaten?”

“I? Why, ah, I don’t think so, Sir Able. Not since we left that horrid castle, sir. I’ve—we’ve been caring for His Lordship, and there’s been no time.”

I gave him my spoon and what remained in the bowl, a bit more than half, and munched the piece of coarse bread quickly offered by Uns. Thus, both of us eating (and eating as fast as we could), Swert and I made our way through the discomfort and disorder of the camp to Beel’s pavilion.

I had hoped to find him asleep, but he was awake and propped in his folding bed, with Idnn on a stool at his bedside and Marder in a chair eating porridge.

“Sir Able.” Beel managed a smile, although I could see he was in a lot of pain. “Be seated, please. You must be tired. All of us are.”

I looked to Idnn, and received a glittering nod. Marder nodded as well. Swert brought in a folding chair, and I sat down. “To see you sitting up and smiling is worth hours of rest to me, My Lord. I imagine Her Majesty and His Grace might say the same.”

“I killed Thrym, the captain of the King’s Guard.”

“So I heard. I congratulate you, My Lord.”

“I don’t congratulate myself.” Beel was silent for a moment, adjusting his position in his bed, his mouth twisted with pain. “You weren’t present when he halted us outside Utgard, Sir Able. Neither was His Grace. But you may have heard of it. King Gilling had been told—though I can’t imagine who his informant may have been—of Her Majesty’s cat. You gave her that cat, I believe.”

Idnn said, “We asked for Mani, Father, and he gave him to us.”

“Exactly. Exactly. He wanted to see the cat, and keep us waiting outside. I stood there in the road, in the wind, and talked with Thrym for an hour. Trying to get us in, you know. He was a monster, the largest of them all. I was terrified of him and tried not to show it.”

Idnn said, “Father, you weren’t!”

“Yes, I was. Shaking in my boots.” He smiled. “If you had told me I’d have to fight him, I would have slashed my wrists. If you’d told me I would win, I’d have said that all prophesy is moonshine, even mine. You know me, Your Majesty. I bounced you on my knee and played hide-and-seek. Am I a man of war? A knight, or anything like one?”

Idnn shook her head.

“Now I’ve killed the captain of King Schildstarr’s Guard. That wasn’t what we wanted to talk to you about, Sir Able, though it may bear upon it. But I did it, and I can’t keep quiet about it. Killing one giant, even the captain of the Guard, can’t mean much to you. How many did you kill this morning? A score?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know, My Lord. I didn’t count. Not as many as that.”

Marder said, “You rode through the air. I’d heard about that from some of my men, but I didn’t believe them. Today I saw it myself. You galloped on air as though it were a range of hills and your arrows—I’ve never seen so strong a bow. Never.”

“It’s my bowstring, Your Grace. I’ve had it since I was a boy, but I hope not to need it before long.”

No one spoke, so I added, “As for riding on air, please don’t fall prey to the idea that I do it. It is my mount who does it. I have a good mount.”

Mani bounded into Idnn’s lap, and she smiled. “And a good cat.”

“A very good cat, whenever he’s not Your Majesty’s cat.”

Marder dropped his spoon into his empty bowl. “I need to sleep. So does Sir Able—we all do. The first thing we wanted to say, Sir Able, was that after what happened this morning Celidon and Jotunland are at war. Border raids can be blamed on unruly vassals. This can’t.”

I nodded.

Idnn said, “And we wanted to ask you why—why King Schildstarr laid an ambush for His Grace’s party.” She gave me her old impish grin. “Knights aren’t supposed to know much. You’re to be fighters, and leave the thinking to us. We were teasing Sir Svon about it as we rode.”

“Your Majesty is as wise as she is beautiful.”

“Thank you, sir.” She made me a mock bow. “We are Queen of Jotunland.” (Some sound outside the pavilion told me we were overheard.) “But a queen without power is a queen without wisdom, we’re afraid. Wise enough, however, to know who has it. Why did King Schildstarr want to kill His Grace and his knights?”

I said, “I don’t think he did, Your Majesty. The ambush wasn’t intended for them. They came on it from the rear, and were wise enough to detect it.”

Marder said, “Sir Woddet’s giantess did. I would have ridden straight into it.”

“Hela?”

He nodded. “We were traveling without an advance guard. In retrospect, that was foolish.”

Idnn’s eyes had never left my face. “If the ambush was not meant for His Grace’s party, for whom was it meant? Us?”

“I can only speculate. But yes. I think it was.”

“We don’t—we were bearing Schildstarr’s gifts to King Arnthor. Why would he...?”

“To get them back, to begin with.” I glanced at Marder and Beel.”Do you want to hear this, My Lords? Her Majesty and I can speak privately if you want to rest.”

Beel said, “I do. Very much,” and Marder nodded.

“As you wish. Second, we aren’t popular in Jotunland. Before he got the crown, we were an asset to Schildstarr, fighters he couldn’t afford to lose. That’s why he helped rescue Sir Svon and his party when they were attacked in the market. Once he was king, we were a liability. His people despise us, and he was associated with us.”

Beel nodded. “It was one reason I was eager to go.”

“So was I, and I hoped that if we left at the earliest possible moment there wouldn’t be time to arrange something like we saw today. I was wrong, of course. He waited until his ambush was ready before turning the gifts he was sending King Arnthor over to you.”

Mani rose and appeared to lick Idnn’s ear, and she said, “Wouldn’t it have been better to attack us piecemeal, while were still in Utgard? We wouldn’t have had our horses, and some of us wouldn’t have had weapons.”

I shook my head. “It would have been a violation of the laws of hospitality—”

“We know. But Frost Giants?”

“I believe so, Your Majesty. While I was traveling with a certain friend not so long ago, we were attacked on our way to a castle belonging to giants. We fought them off, reached the castle, and asked for lodging. They lodged and fed us. And entertained us, for that matter. While we stayed there, it became obvious that they had been our attackers. We left stealthily, and so avoided the second attack they planned.”

Slowly, Idnn nodded. “We see.”

“It would have given Schildstarr an ill name among his people, something he can’t afford. He was trying to wipe out the one he’d gotten already by associating with us.”

Marder added, “From what you’ve said, he’d have wanted to do it in public, anyway. Kill you in a place where his people could know of it.”

“I agree, Your Grace. But by waiting until his ambush was ready, he ran an awful risk—you might arrive, tripling our strength. He gambled, and lost only by a hair.”

Idnn sighed. “To get back a few trinkets.”

“Not really, Your Majesty. To humble the small folk who had beaten his more than once, pygmies they thought should be slaves or dead. Also to reclaim that diadem you wear. Gold plates, cups, and amber may seen like trinkets to you, though there are bold men and virtuous women who own nothing half so fine. But there’s not a king in Mythgarthr who would think the diadem King Gilling gave you a trinket.”

Beel murmured, “He’s right, Your Majesty. You must be very careful of it.”

“He loved us, didn’t he?”

I nodded, and Marder said, “He surely must have.”

“We didn’t love him. We—we tried to do our duty...” She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and wiped away her tears. “Be a good ruler to our people. For those few short, short days we believe we were.”

Gently I said, “He knew you couldn’t love him. What he got from you was as near to love as Angrborn can ever come. Thus he loved you, and tried to show it.”

Marder cleared his throat. “You yourself are not one of those bold men who own nothing as fine as a gold plate or an amber necklace, Sir Able. You have a good horse, as you say, and a good sword. I would have said I had those too, if I hadn’t seen yours this morning.”

“His bowstring,” Idnn whispered.

I said, “Yes, Your Majesty. My bowstring, as you say and though no one would count my bow as valuable, I made it myself and I treasure it. I have the queen of seven worlds’ swords as well, and the best of all dogs.”

Mani made a sound of disparagement, which I ignored.

“But no squire,” Marder continued, “now that Svon has become Sir Svon. And no land.”

“No, Your Grace.”

“When Lord Beel wanted to see you, we discussed the advisability of rousing you from sleep—and missing some ourselves. You’ve heard the questions Her Majesty and Lord Beel had. I didn’t have any so urgent that I felt justified in keeping you up.”

“I’m always at your service, Your Grace.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed. Ahem! I can’t offer you a new squire. Not here and now. I brought no boys, save my own squire. As for lands, well, the deed’s at home, locked in a drawer. But the place is yours, and I’ll give you the deed as soon as I can. Redhall’s one of the best manors in my dukedom. Quite fertile, and nicely situated on the road to Kingsdoom. I see you’ve heard of it.”

“It—” I could scarcely speak.

“It was Sir Ravd’s. Reverted to me at his death, of course. I’ve a steward taking care of things. You may want to keep him on. Or not. Up to you.”

I doubt that I managed a nod.

“I’ll let him know you’re coming, naturally, and give you a letter for him.”

Idnn spoke for me, prompted perhaps by Mani. “This is most generous of Your Grace.”

“Not at all.” For a moment Marder seemed embarrassed. “I wish I could do more. No, I will do more. But I can’t do it now, not in this wilderness. Later though. You’ll see.”

I left soon after that, and left abruptly enough to see a tall figure steal off into the shadows.

The next day we decided that the Knight of the Leopards should take the rear guard. We all agreed it was the post of greatest danger, and Svon, Garvaon, and he were all eager to command there. Garvaon led the advance guard, however, and Svon was wounded. That day I rode with the advance guard, and Sir Woddet with me.

The Plain of Jotunland is a strange and unsettling place, as I have tried to make clear. One sees phantoms, at dawn and twilight particularly. One hears strange sounds, and finds inexplicable things—paths going nowhere, and sometimes broken pieces of earthenware pots that were once crudely beautiful.

Hela found such a pot about noon, running some distance from the War Way to pick it up, and exhibiting it to Woddet and me when she came trotting back. It had been broken at the lip, losing a segment of clay the size of my hand. The rest was complete. “Is it not lovely, good Sir Able?”

I agreed it was, but explained that I dared not burden Cloud with anything beyond the most necessary.

Heimir said that it recalled Idnn, which surprised me.

“It’s red and—something like blue.” Woddet took it from him and turned it so its winding stripe took the bleared light of the winter sun, azure, aquamarine, and royal. “I’d have said that Her Majesty’s white and black, mostly except for the diamonds.”

I said, “I suppose so,” or something of the sort. The truth was that I was scanning the road ahead and had stopped paying much attention to Hela’s find.

“Red lips, of course,” Woddet finished lamely, “but her eyes are dark, not blue.”

“Do you count her friend?” Hela asked him.

He grinned at her. “I don’t like her like I like you. That’s Sir Svon.”

“And do you care for him, Dearest Lord?”

Woddet looked to me, baffled, and I said, “He does, but not in the sense you mean.”

“I meant what I said. No whit the more.” Hela tossed the pot aside. “Do you count him friend, dearest Lord?”

“More than that.” Woddet cleared his throat. “He’s someone I’ve wronged, Hela. Or I think he is.”

I said, “So do I.”

“There were rumors. I didn’t like him, so I found it easy to believe them.”

If Hela understood, nothing in her broad, coarse face showed it.

“Easy and a lot too convenient. It’s wrong. It’s something a knight shouldn’t do. A man’s honor is sacred, even if he’s not a knight. You believe the best, until you see for yourself it’s not right.”

On that morning, the morning of the day after we had left Utgard, this talk of ours seemed no more significant than Hela’s broken pot. I have re-created it, however, as well as I can; reading it over, it seems clear that I ought to have realized that Hela was planning to do Idnn and Svon some favor, and that her favor would prove no small thing.