The Wizard

Chapter 5. Confidences

Much later, when we lay in the crowded house that had been Bymir’s and he sensed that I, too, was awake, Toug whispered, “Will you tell me one more thing, Sir Able? Just one more.”

“Probably not.”

“Why wouldn’t you heal Baki yourself?”

At length I said, “You told me Lady Idnn had promised you a shield. Has she given it to you?”

“Not yet,” Toug whispered. “There hasn’t been time to paint it anyhow.”

“You’ll have to remind her,” I told him, “and both of us have to sleep.”

Obediently, Toug closed his eyes; but as soon as he did, he saw sunshine, waving grass, and distant vistas of mountain and plain. He opened them again at once; but there was only darkness, and the flickering firelight.

“This is better,” I said. I was standing beside the cloud-colored mount I had come back on, and the wind that whipped the plumes on my helmet sent her mane and tail streaming across the sky.

“Where are we?” Toug asked. His own mount, Laemphalt, was cropping grass some distance off.

“Most people think there’s only one world on this fourth level,” I explained.

“Isn’t that true?” Toug took a step toward me and found that there was a shield strapped to his arm, a shield rounded at the top, with a long tapering point at the bottom, such as knights use. Its background was green, like that of my own shield, and on it was a white griffin with wings spread wide.

“The highest level, and the lowest, have only got one,” I said. “The rest have several. This is Dream. It’s on the midmost level, with Mythgarthr. Cloud brought us here.”

She looked up at the sound of her name, and her head and back were as white as the whitest clouds, but her feet and legs remained as dark as storms. Gray were the mane and tail streaming from the hilltop in the warm wind of Dream.

“She’s a magic horse...” Toug said, and his mind was filled with wonder.

“She’s not a horse at all,” I told him, “and a good one. She’s as wise as a woman, but she’s not like a woman, and it will be well for you to understand her.”

“She can take you from world to world?”

I nodded solemnly. “Can your horse?”

Toug shook his head.

“What of the horses of Aelfrice?”

Toug thought before he spoke. “I don’t know about those, Sir Able. I’ve never seen one.”

“There aren’t any. I don’t mean you’ll never see an Aelf on horseback. For that matter, Uri and Baki rode some of the horses and mules they scattered. But any horse ridden by an Aelf, here or in Aelfrice, will be one of ours, a horse taken by the Aelf as a man or a woman may be.”

Toug nodded. “I think I understand. Are you going to tell me about your dog now?”

I shook my head.

“You don’t have to. You could tell me later, or not tell at all. I already know he can talk like Mani.”

“Yes,” I said, “and no. He can speak, but not like Mani. Mani speaks because he’s a freakish combination of spirit and beast, though the spirit and the beast do not belong together. Gylf speaks of himself—of his nature. He has a spirit, of course, and an animal body. But they are parts of one whole. Can you write, Toug?”

Toug shook his head.

“You may learn someday. When you do, you’ll find out that your hands speak just as your lips do now, and that the things they say are a little different. Still, you’re one whole, lips and hands.”

“You’re saying he talks like we do, but Mani doesn’t.”

“Close enough.” I raised my voice. “Gylf! Here boy!”

Toug looked around and caught sight of a running animal far away. It grew smaller as it approached, until a panting Gylf threw himself down at my feet.

“We were talking about you,” I said. “When I go back to Skai, will you go with me?”

Gylf nodded.

“That’s good. But maybe it won’t be allowed. Or you may want to stay here awhile before you join me there. In either case, you’ll belong to Toug. Is that understood?”

Slowly, Gylf nodded again.

“I want you to talk to him. I won’t make you, but I ask it. Just to Toug. Will you speak?”

There was a long silence. At last Gylf said, “Yep.”

“Thank you. Toug wonders how you change size. Will you tell him?”

“Good dog.”

We waited, and at length he added, “Dog from Skai.”

Toug exclaimed, “You had him before you went there!”

“I did. He was given to me by the Bodachan. Their reasons for making me such a gift were good but complicated, and we’ll leave them for another time. Do you know the Wild Hunt?”

Toug nodded. “It’s when Hern the Hunter hunts up in the air, like a storm. I’m not sure it’s real.”

“Hern’s the Valfather. It’s one of his names.”

Toug gulped. “I heard him when I was little. The—his horse galloping across Skai, and his hounds.”

“Then how could you not be certain it is real?”

“I thought maybe I dreamed it.”

“You’re dreaming this,” I told him; and although Toug considered the matter for a long while after he woke, there seemed to be no adequate answer to it.

“I’ve talked about the Giants of Winter and Old Night. When I did, you must have thought them human-shaped, like the Angrborn. I think I told you about one wearing a glove, and if you hadn’t thought them like us before, you’d surely have after that.”

Toug nodded.

“Many are. Others are not. There’s one with a hundred arms, and more than a few who have or take on the shapes of animals. Fenrir’s the worst. You’ve got to understand that there’s no big distinction among the kinds.”

Reluctantly, Toug nodded again.

“Ones or two at a time wander away from their sunless kingdom to steal and kill. When they do, the Valfather hunts them down, sometimes alone, sometimes with his sons or men like me, or both. But always with his hounds, who course them and bring them to bay. You heard them, you said.”

Recalling how frightened he had been, Toug said nothing.

“It sometimes happens that one of the bitches of that pack gives birth before her time. The exertions of the hunt are too great, and the pup is dropped. It doesn’t happen often, but it happens. Once in a hundred years, maybe.”

“Isn’t that thousands of years in Skai?”

“Right. When a puppy is dropped like that, or lost some other way, it may fall or wander down into Mythgarthr. Then someone finds it, helpless and alone, hungry and cold. He can kill it then, if he wants to. He can leave it to starve. Or he can take it in as the Bodachan did. Feed it, and keep it alive. If he does, he’ll have his reward eventually.”

“You mean when the Valfather comes to get it?”

“You’re pale. Would that be such a terrible thing?”

Trembling, Toug nodded.

“I guess you’re right. But a wonderful thing, too. If he finds the hound he lost loved the man who saved it, do you think he’ll hate that man? That’s not his way.”

“I hope not,” Toug said fervently.

“It isn’t. It’s the sort of thing the giants do, not the sort of thing Overcyns do, and it’s sure as heck not the sort of thing the Valfather does.”

When minutes had passed, Toug said timidly, “It’s really beautiful here.”

“Beautiful and terrible. Have you noticed how bright the colors are?”

Toug looked around, and it seemed that he looked with new eyes. “Yes,” he said. “I hadn’t paid any attention, but they are wonderful, like you say.”

“They are yours, and if ever you give them up this will be a land of blacks and grays. But that’s not what I brought you here to tell you. Nor did I bring you to explain Gylf.”

“Where is he?” Toug looked around.

“Where he was. I brought you so I could tell you about the Valfather.” I sighed. “He’s very kind and very wise, and in his kindness and his wisdom he’s a man who stands on two legs—his wisdom makes him kind and his kindness makes him wise. I told you I’d been in Skai for twenty years, even though it seemed a few days to you.”

“It was hard to believe,” Toug mumbled.

“I guess it was. It wasn’t exactly true, since years are things of Mythgarthr; but twenty years takes us as near the truth as we’re likely to get. After twenty years the Valfather spoke to me privately, something he hadn’t done since I came. He began by asking about my first life, and he saw that even when we talked about my battle with Grengarm, I recalled very little. The mead of his hall has that effect, and it spares us a lot of pain. He asked me then whether I wanted those memories restored, and I said no. The Valfather is wiser than we are.”

Slowly, Toug nodded.

“From the way I had answered him, he knew there was something more, and he asked whether I’d go back to your world if he let me. I couldn’t remember Disiri, but I was haunted by her name and the feelings I got when I said it, and said I would.”

I stopped talking; but Toug did not say anything more though minutes passed, only watching the clouds of Dream fly overhead, and a castle like a star that flew among them.

“We went to the spring Mimir,” I said at last. “I drank its water and remembered you and Gylf, and a lot of other things. I visited myself, watching myself drink water in the ruins of Bluestone Castle. Afterward the Valfather laid his condition on me. You’re a god to Baki and all the Aelf. You know that now.”

“They don’t like us being gods, and I don’t blame them.”

“Nor do I, because the fault is ours. There’s evil and folly even among the Overcyns; but it’s less, much less, than ours.” I stopped again to think. “Baki sacrificed herself to me. Did we tell you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“She did. I drank her blood and was made well. That should have showed me how things stood, but it didn’t. I didn’t want to believe I was a god to anybody.”

“I understand,” Toug told me fervently.

“In the same way the Aelf have refused to be gods to the world below theirs, preferring to give them the worship they owe you. But that’s not the point. The point is that the Valfather bound me not to use the authority that is mine. I was not to return as an Overcyn from Skai.”

“You mean you have to act like one of us?” Toug asked.

“No. I mean I have to be less than one of you. I no longer have the authority of Mythgarthr. That can never be mine again. My authority’s that of Skai. I swore not to use it, and if I break my oath I have to go back at once.”

Poor Toug could only gape.

“I think it better if you know.” I tried to keep my voice level. “From time to time I may need you—need somebody who can wield the authority of Mythgarthr for me, the way you did tonight. You need to understand why I need you.”

Toug swallowed.

“In the meantime, you’re not to sacrifice to me unless I ask. Neither are you to treat me differently in any way.”

“N-no, sir.”

“I’m glad you understand. Don’t tell anyone. This is only a dream, after all.”

“Uns is coming, Sir Able. See there?” Toug pointed; Uns’ bent figure was only just visible as it topped a rise, hurrying along crab wise, but making good time for all that.

“We must go,” I said, and the green hills of Dream, crowned with poplars and drooping cypress, were visible only as the reflection of the sun in water.

Toug blinked and sat up. The fire was scarcely more than embers. Cloud stood over Uns’ twisted form, her noble head bent until their lips nearly touched. A moment more and Cloud had faded to mist and was gone.

Toug rose and put more wood on the fire, then knelt by me. “Are you still going for my sister?”

“I’m sending you,” I said.

“I have the right to raise others to knighthood,” I told Beel’s followers. “If anyone doubts me, let him challenge me now.”

Nobody spoke, though faces were turned toward Garvaon.

“I wish I could say I have lands to give as well, fair manors to bestow on such knights as I make. I have none, but Lord Beel has most nobly offered to make up the deficiency.”

The watchers murmured, their voices less forceful and distinct than that of the wind. I raised my hand, and they quieted down.

“There are those who become knights in the great castles of the south,” I continued. “There’s a ritual bath, at which three knights stand near to counsel them. From dark to dawn they watch their arms. There are banners, prayers, and songs, and there are ladies in silk to watch it. We have a lady here, but she wears leather, and a quiver on her back.”

Toug turned to look at Idnn, and saw that everyone else was as well. Her head was high, her eyes as bright as those of the big black cat on her shoulder.

“When the ceremonies are done, and the knight-to-be has been properly admired and gossiped about, a carpet is spread before the giver of the accolade. The knight-to-be kneels on it, and for that reason those who are knighted this way are called carpet knights.”

Crol laughed, but fell silent almost at once.

“There are knights of another kind, too. Those who’ve watched the weapons of foes instead of their own, knights who get the accolade because all who know them know they’re knights already, brave and honorable and skilled at arms.”

A bar of sunlight raced across the plain, and was gone.

I had spoken loudly enough for everyone to hear; now I let my voice fall. “Come forward, Svon, and kneel.”

Svon advanced, neither quickly nor slowly. For a moment that only seemed long he stood, before dropping to his knees. Maybe it was the wind that made his eyes water.

Eterne sprang from her jeweled scabbard into my hand, and I no longer stood alone. A score of knights, old and grim or young and gallant, stood with me. A woman who was not Idnn screamed among the onlookers.

The long black blade touched Svon’s right shoulder, then his left. I said, “Arise, Sir Svon.”

Svon stood up, looking dazed; Eterne shot back into her scabbard, and the phantom knights vanished.

I said, “Toug, step forward, please.”

Proudly, Toug took his place beside Svon. His clothes were those of the village boy he had been, but on his arm was a beautiful green shield bearing a white griffin.

“Here stands a squire, Sir Svon. Will you have him?”

“Gladly,” Svon answered, “if he will have me.”

“Will you serve this knight loyally, Toug? As your father once served me?”

“I swear it!” Toug’s voice was loud, and possibly for that reason cracked as he spoke.

No word of mine summoned Cloud. With Gylf at her heels, she cantered through the onlookers to stand before me.

I mounted. “I’m going south, taking Uns and two more. I promised Duke Marder I’d take my stand in a mountain pass, and have yet to do so. When you free my servant from the Angrborn, send him to me. He’ll know where to find me.”

That night Toug hoped to dream as he had when we slept side by side. No such dreams came to him, but the warm pink tongue of a cat instead. He rolled onto his back. “Hello, Mani. What is it?”

“Come with me,” Mani said softly; and when Toug rose he led him from the camp to a place not greatly different from any other on that haunted plain, save that Idnn was there on a little folding stool, with another such stool before her.

“I need to speak with you, Squire,” she said, “you and I have not been great friends until—Sit, please. I brought that stool out here for you.”

Toug bowed and sat. “You gave me my shield and made me your friend as long as I live.”

She smiled, a smile just visible in the moonlight. “That was courteously said.”

“I don’t know anything about manners. How to talk to a lady or a nobleman like your father, or any of that. I just said the truth.”

“Sir Svon can teach you.”

“I know, but he hasn’t had time yet.”

As though she had not heard him, Idnn said, “He has beautiful manners, when he chooses.”

“The wise know how to be polite,” Mani informed Toug, “but the wise know when to be polite as well.”

“And do not choose to be courteous always,” Idnn finished for him. “Sir Svon is brusque with me, Squire, unless my father is at my side. Why is that?”

“He hasn’t told me.”

“Of course not. I know I’m not beautiful—”

“Yes, you are,” Toug told her; Mani purred approval.

“Beautiful women don’t have noses like mine!”

“There were women and girls in our village, and there are your women and girls here, and most of the slaves the giant had were women. But when I try to think of somebody else like you, the only one I can think of is Queen Disiri, and you’re a lot nicer than she was.”

“You met her? Sir Able introduced you or something?”

Toug nodded.

“I’d love to. Do you think he’s coming back?”

“I don’t know.”

“Address her as ‘My Lady,’” Mani whispered; and Toug repeated, “I don’t know, My Lady.”

“But you could guess, Squire, if you were made to?”

“I don’t think so,” Toug said slowly. “He said to send his servant when we rescued my sister. I don’t think he’d have said that if he were coming back.”

Idnn nodded reluctantly.

“And he made Sir Svon a knight. Sir Svon used to be his squire, but now I’m Sir Svon’s squire. Sir Svon’s being a knight means you’ve got two, like you did when you had Sir Garvaon and Sir Able.”

“Have you heard what Sir Garvaon said about that?”

Toug shook his head, and drew the cloak she had given him more tightly about him. “No, My Lady. I haven’t.”

“Garvaon said Sir Able thinks this will make Sir Svon or break him, and you, too. He thinks Able may come to Utgard to see how well you acted. Or how badly.”

“That’s wrong,” Toug said, surprising himself. “I mean he’s a knight and he knows a lot, My Lady, but I don’t think he knows Sir Able as well as I do. He’s not like that.”

Mani asked, “May I speak, Lady Idnn?”

“Later.” She picked Mani up, stroking his head. “I want to hear Toug now. What’s Sir Able like, Toug?”

“I don’t know a word for it,” said Toug, who thought he did, “but he wouldn’t test us like Sir Garvaon says. He knows already. He knows we can do it, or anyhow he knows Sir Garvaon and Sir Svon can.”

“Two knights against a castle full of Frost Giants?”

“Sir Garvaon and Sir Svon and all of us,” Toug amended. “You, My Lady, your father, Mani, Org, and everybody else.”

“Org?”

“I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s just that it’s a name I’ve never heard.”

Mani’s voice was melted butter. “If you will allow me, Lady Idnn, I can set your mind at rest concerning the entire matter, presently or privately.”

“Please let him, My Lady. That way, I can say I didn’t tell you.”

“Org is a terrible man one rarely sees,” Mani explained. “He’s larger than a mule, silent, and lives on human flesh—”

“You’re making this up!”

“I, My Lady? I assure you, no one is less inclined to prevarication than I, your most worshipful Cat.”

“You know you are, Mani. You’re fibbing!”

“Squire Toug’s eloquent protestations have given away my little game, I see,” Mani said stiffly. “I shall proffer no more unneeded details. The facts you require, My Lady, are these. Org is a servant of Sir Able’s, one normally seen to by the hunchback. Before he left, however—prior to his brief yet gracious speech elevating Sir Svon to knighthood—he instructed Org to remain at Sir Svon’s side, obeying Sir Svon as if he were Sir Able himself. I thought that I, with the hunchback and Sir Able’s dog, was the sole witness to the conversation, but Squire Toug knows of it, clearly.”

“I saw it.” Toug wished the ground would swallow him. “I saw it and asked Sir Svon, and he said I’d better know but not to tell anybody.”

“He’s awfully handsome, isn’t he?” Idnn’s eyes shone.

Toug gawked.

“Sir Svon, I mean. He broke his nose fighting giants, and it will probably be crooked when it heals, but one must expect scars on a bold knight. Blue eyes...” She sighed. “He has a cleft chin. Did you notice, Squire?”

Toug managed to say, “Yes, My Lady.”

“My praise is not to be repeated. You realize that, I’m sure. Both of you.”

Mani said, “Most certainly not. Your Ladyship may rely on me absolutely.” To which Toug added, “Me, too.”

“I’ve had Mani’s opinion of Sir Svon already. If you want to hear it, no doubt you will. You may hear it even if you don’t want to. But I’d like to have yours. I realize you’ve been his squire for only one day.”

When Toug did not speak, Idnn added, “You must’ve formed some estimate of his character just the same.”

“I knew him before.”

“So you did. I won’t tattle, on a maiden’s honor.”

“And I,” Mani announced, “speak to you and Lady Idnn alone. And to Sir Able, but he isn’t here.”

“A lot’s what Sir Able told me,” Toug said, “but he’s right. I know he’s right.”

“About Sir Svon?” Idnn was clearly interested. “Better and better. What did he say?”

“Well, he’s proud. Sir Svon, I mean.”

“Anyone with half an eye can see that.”

“He ought to be a nobleman, but he’s a younger son, and then his mother died and his father married again. They’re just trying to get him out of the way, really. He looks down on everybody, even the king, because he feels like everybody looks down on him, and he’s got to learn—this’s what Sir Able said when we talked one time.”

“I understand. Go on.”

“He’s got to learn it’s not all looking up or looking down. He said people keep hurting Svon because they think he needs his pride humbled. He said he’d done that, too. But Sir Svon’s been hurt so much already that it only makes him worse and I shouldn’t do it anymore.”

“Have you humbled him, Squire?”

Toug looked around him, at the frigid northland night and the distant lights of the camp. It was time for a good solid lie, he knew, and he lied manfully. “I said something, My Lady. Only I took it back, after. I don’t think he’s forgotten; but I don’t think he’s mad anymore, either.”