Lyonesse

Chapter 30

KING CASMIR OF LYONESSE, who never took comfort in half-measures, had established spies in every quarter of Troicinet, including the palace Miraldra. He assumed, correctly, that Troice spies subjected his own activities to a scrutiny equally pervasive; therefore, when taking information from one of his secret agents, he used careful procedures to safeguard the agent's identity.

Information arrived by various methods. One morning at breakfast he found a small white stone beside his plate. Without comment Casmir put the stone in his pocket; it had been placed there, so he knew, by Sir Mungo, the seneschal, who would have received it from a messenger.

After taking his breakfast, Casmir swathed himself in a hooded cloak of brown fustian and departed Haidion by a private way through the old armory and out into the Sfer Arct. After ensuring that no one followed, Casmir went by lanes and alleys to the warehouse of a wine merchant. He fitted a key into the lock of a heavy oak door, and so entered a dusty little tasting room smelling heavily vinous. A man squat and gray-haired, with crooked legs and a broken nose, gave him a casual salute. Casmir knew the man only as Valdez; and he himself used the name "Sir Eban."

Valdez might or might not know him as Casmir; his manner at all times was totally impersonal, which suited Casmir very well.

Valdez pointed him to one of the chairs, and seated himself in another. He poured wine from an earthenware jug into a pair of mugs. "I have important information. The new Troice king intends a naval operation. He has massed his ships in the Hob Hook, and at Cape Haze, troops are moving aboard; an assault is imminent."

"An assault where?"

Valdez, whose face was that of a man clever and cool, ruthless and saturnine, gave an indifferent shrug. "No one has troubled to tell me. The shipmasters are to sail when the weather shifts south—which gives them west, east and north for their sailing."

"They are trying Cape Farewell again: that is my guess."

"It might well be, if defense has been relaxed."

Casmir nodded thoughtfully. "Just so."

"Another possibility. Each ship has been supplied with a heavy grapple and hawser."

Casmir leaned back in his chair. "What purpose would these serve? They can't expect a naval battle."

"They might hope to prevent one. They are taking aboard firepots. And remember, south wind blows them up the River Sime."

"To the shipyards?" Casmir was instantly aroused. "To the new ships?"

Valdez raised the cup of wine to his crooked slash of a mouth. "I can only report facts. The Troice are preparing to attack, with a hundred ships and at least five thousand troops, well armed."

Casmir muttered. "Bait Bay is guarded, but not that well. They could work disaster if they took us by surprise. How can I know when their first fleet puts to sea?"

"Beacons are chancy. If one fails, through fog or rain, the whole system fails. In any case there is no time to set up such a chain. Pigeons will not fly a hundred miles of water. I know no other system, save those propelled by magic."

Casmir jumped to his feet. He dropped a leather purse upon the table. "Return to Troicinet. Send me news as often as practical."

Valdez lifted the purse and seemed satisfied by its weight. "I will do so."

Casmir returned to Haidion, and within the hour couriers rode from Lyonesse Town at speed. The Dukes of Jong and Twarsbane were ordered to take armies, knights and armored cavalry to Cape Farewell, to reinforce the garrison already on the scene. Other troops, in the number of eight thousand, were despatched in haste to the Sime River shipyards, and everywhere along the coast watches were set. The harbors were sealed and all boats restricted to moorings (save that single vessel which would carry Valdez back to Troicinet), in order that spies might not apprise the Troice that the forces of Lyonesse had been mobilized against the secret assault.

The winds shifted south and eighty ships with six thousand soldiers took departure. Leaning to the port tack they sailed into the west. Passing through the Straits of Palisidra, the fleet kept well to the south, beyond the purview of Casmir's vigilant garrisons, then swung north, to coast easily downwind, with blue water gurgling under the bows and surging up behind the transoms.

Meanwhile, Troice emissaries traversed the length and breadth of South Ulfland. To cold castles along the moors, to walled towns and mountain keeps, they brought news of the new king and his ordinances which must now be obeyed. Often they won immediate and grateful acquiescence; as often they were forced to overcome hatreds fomented by the murders, treacheries and torments of centuries. These were emotions so bitter as to dominate all other thought: feuds which were to the participants as water to a fish, vengeances and hoped-for vengeances so sweet as to obsess the mind. In such cases logic had no power. ("Peace in Ulfland? There shall be no peace for me until Keghorn Keep is broken stone by stone and Melidot blood soaks the rubble!") Thereupon, the envoys used tactics more direct. "You must, for your own security, put aside these hatreds. A heavy hand rules Ulfland, and if you will not conform to the order, you will find your enemies in favor, with the might of the realm at their call, and you will pay a hard price for worthless goods."

"Ha hmm. And who is to rule Ulfland?"

"King Aillas already rules, by right and might, and the old bad times are gone. Make your choice! Join with your peers and bring peace to this land, or you will be named renegade! Your castle will be taken and burned; you, if you survive, will live out your life as a thrall, with your sons and daughters. Cast your lot with us; you cannot but gain."

Thereupon, the person so addressed might try to procrastinate, or declare himself concerned only with his own domain, without interest in the land at large. If his nature were cautious, he might assert that he must wait to see how others conducted themselves. To each case the envoy replied: "Choose now! You are either with us in law, or against us, as an outlaw! There is no middle way!" In the end almost all the gentry of South Ulfland gave acquiescence to the demands, if only out of hatred for Faude Carfilhiot. They arrayed themselves in their ancient armor, mustered their troops, and rode out from their old keeps with banners fluttering above their heads, to assemble on the field near Cleadstone Castle.

In his workroom Faude Carfilhiot sat absorbed in the moving figures on his map. What could such a conclave portend? Certainly nothing to his advantage. He summoned his captains and sent them riding down the valley to mobilize his army.

Two hours before dawn the wind died and the sea became calm. With Ys close at hand the sails were brailed and the oarsmen bent their backs to the sweeps. Point Istaia and the Temple of Atlante interposed their silhouettes across the pre-dawn sky; the ships slid over pewter water, close by the steps descending from the temple to the sea, then turned where the beach curved down from the north into the estuary of the Evander and grounded upon the sand to discharge troops, then the transports eased close up to the docks at Ys to unload cargo.

From their garden terraces the factors of Ys watched the debarkation with no more than languid interest, and the folk of the town went about their affairs, as if incursions from the sea were a daily occurrence.

At the balustrade of her own palace Melancthe watched the ships arrive. Presently she turned and slipped into the dim interior of her palace.

Sir Glide of Fairsted, with a single companion took horse and rode at speed up the vale, through fields and orchards, with mountains rising steep to right and left. Through a dozen villages and hamlets the two men rode, with no one giving so much as curiosity to their passage.

The mountains converged upon the valley which finally terminated under that flat-topped height known as Tac Tor, with Tintzin Fyral to the side. A taint on the air grew ever stronger and presently the two riders discovered the source: six poles fifty feet tall, supporting as many impaled corpses.

The road passing under the poles crossed a meadow which displayed further evidences of Carfilhiot's severity toward his enemies: a gantry twenty feet high from which hung four men with heavy stones dangling from their feet. Beside each stood a marker, measured off in inches.

A sentry-house guarded the way. A pair of soldiers in the black and purple of Tintzin Fyral marched out to cross halberds. A captain followed them and spoke to Sir Glide. "Sir, why do you make approach to Tintzin Fyral?"

"We are a deputation in the service of King Aillas," said Sir Glide. "We request a conference with Sir Faude Carfilhiot, and we solicit the safety of his protection before, during and after this conference, in order to achieve the full freedom of our expression."

The captain performed a somewhat casual salute. "Sirs, I will transmit your message at once." He mounted a horse and rode up a narrow way cut so as to traverse the cliff. The two soldiers continued to bar the road with crossed halberds.

Sir Glide spoke to one of the guards. "You have served Sir Faude Carfilhiot over a long period?"

"Only a year, sir."

"Your nationality is Ulf ?"

"North Ulf, sir."

Sir Glide indicated the gantry. "What is the reason for this exercise?"

The guard gave an indifferent shrug. "Sir Faude is persecuted by the gentry of the region; they will not abide his rule. We scour the land, keen as wolves, and whenever they go abroad, to hunt or inspect their lands, we take them into custody. And then Sir Faude makes an example to deter and frighten the others."

"His punishments show ingenuity."

Again the guard shrugged. "It makes no great difference. One way or another it is death. And simple hangings or even impalings at last become a bore for all concerned."

"Why are these men measured by markers?"

"They are great enemies. You see there Sir Jehan of Femus, his sons Waldrop and Hambol, and his cousin Sir Basil. They were taken and Sir Faude sentenced them to punitive display, but also showed clemency. He said: ‘Let markers be placed; then when these miscreants have stretched to double their length, let them be released, and allowed to run freely back over the fells to Castle Femus.'"

"And how goes it with them?"

The guard shook his head. "They are weak and suffer anguish; and all have at least two feet still to grow."

Sir Glide looked back along the valley and up and down the mountainsides. "It would seem no great matter to ride up the valley with thirty men and effect a rescue."

The guard, grinning, showed a mouthful of broken teeth. "So it would seem. Never forget, Sir Faude is a master of crafty tricks. No one invades his valley to escape free and harmless." Sir Glide again considered the mountains rising steep from the valley floor. No doubt they were riddled with tunnels, vantages and sally-holes. He told the guard: "I would suspect that Sir Faude's enemies gather faster than he can kill them."

"It may be so," said the guard. "Mithra keep us safe!" The conversation, from his point of view, had run its course; perhaps already he had been too garrulous.

Sir Glide joined his companion, a tall man dressed in a black cloak and broad-brimmed black hat pulled low over his forehead to shadow a spare long-nosed face. This person, though armed only with a sword and lacking armor, nonetheless carried himself with the ease of a nobleman, and Sir Glide treated him as an equal.

The captain came down from the castle. He addressed Sir Glide. "Sir, I have faithfully delivered your message to Sir Faude Carfilhiot. He gives you entrance to Tintzin Fyral and warrants your safety. Follow, if you will; he can receive you at once." So saying, he put his horse through a grand caracole and galloped away. The deputation followed at a more moderate pace. Up the cliff they rode, back and forth, and at every stage discovered instruments of defense: embrasures, traps, stone-tumbles, timbers pivoted to sweep the intruder into space, sally-ports and trip-holes.

Back, forth, again and again, and the road widened. The two men dismounted and gave over their horses to stable-boys.

The captain took them into the lower hall of Tintzin Fyral, where Carfilhiot waited. "Gentlemen, you are dignitaries of Troicinet?"

Sir Glide assented. "That is correct. I am Sir Glide of Fairsted and I carry credentials from King Aillas of Troicinet, which I now put before you." He tendered a parchment, at which Carfilhiot glanced, then handed over to a small fat Chamberlain. "Read."

The chamberlain read in a reedy voice:

"To Sir Faude Carfilhiot At Tintzin Fyral:

By the law of South Ulfland, by might and by right, I have become King of South Ulfland, and I hereby require of you the fealty due the sovereign-ruler. I present to you Lord Glide of Fairsted, and another, both trusted councillors. Sir Glide will enlarge upon my requirements and in general speak with my voice. He may be entrusted with whatever messages, even the most confidential, you may care to impart.

I trust that you will make quick response to my demands as expressed by Sir Glide. Below I append my signature and the seal of the kingdom.

Aillas

Of South Ulfland and Troicinet: King."

The chamberlain returned the parchment to Carfilhiot, who studied it with a thoughtful frown, obviously arranging his thoughts. At last he spoke in tones of great gravity. "I am naturally interested in the concepts of King Aillas. Let us conduct this business in my small saloon."

Carfilhiot led Sir Glide and his companion up a low flight of steps, past a kind of aviary thirty feet high and fifteen feet in diameter, equipped with perches, nests, feeders and swings. The human denizens of the aviary exemplified Carfilhiot's whimsy at its most pungent; he had amputated the limbs of several captives, both male and female and had substituted iron claws and hooks, with which they clung to the perches. Each was adorned with plumage of one sort or another; all twittered, whistled and sang bird-songs. Chief among the group, splendid in bright green feathers, sat Mad King Deuel. Now he hunched on his perch, an aggrieved expression on his face. At the sight of Carfilhiot he became alert and hopped briskly along the perch. "One moment, if you will! I have a serious complaint!"

Carfilhiot paused. "Well, what now? Of late you have been querulous."

"And why should I not? Today I was promised worms. In spite of all, I was served only barley!"

"Patience," said Carfilhiot. "Tomorrow you will have your worms."

Mad King Deuel muttered peevishly, hopped to another perch and sat brooding. Carfilhiot led his company into a room paneled in pale wood, with a green rug on the floor and windows overlooking the valley. He gestured to a table. "Be seated, if you please. Have you dined?"

Sir Glide seated himself; his companion remained standing at the back of the room. "We already have taken our meal," said Sir Glide. "If you like, we will go directly to our business."

"Please do so:" Carfilhiot leaned back in his chair and thrust out his long strong legs.

"My message is simple. The new king of South Ulfland has arrived in force at Ys. King Aillas brings a strong rule to the land and all must obey him."

Carfilhiot gave a metallic laugh. "I know nothing of this. To the best of my information, Quilcy left no heirs; the line is dead. Where then does Aillas derive his right?"

"He is King of South Ulfland by collateral lineage and by proper law of the land. Already he comes up the Vale, and he bids you to descend and meet him, and to give over any thoughts of resisting his rule from the strength of this, your castle Tintzin Fyral, since in this case he will reduce it."

"That has been tried before," said Carfilhiot, smiling. "The assailants are gone and Tintzin Fyral remains. In any event King Casmir of Lyonesse will not allow a Troice presence here."

"He has no choice. We have already sent a force to take Kaul Bocach and so deny Casmir his thoroughfare."

Carfilhiot sat brooding. He gave his fingers a contemptuous flick. "I must move with deliberation. The circumstances are still uncertain."

"I beg to contradict you. Aillas rules South Ulfland. The barons have acceded to his rule with gratitude, and they have marshaled their troops at Cleadstone Castle, in case they are needed against Tintzin Fyral."

Carfilhiot, startled and stung, jumped to his feet. Here was the message of the magic chart! "Already you have incited them against me! In vain! The plot will fail! I have powerful friends!"

Sir Glide's companion spoke for the first time. "You have a single friend, your lover Tamurello. He will not help you."

Carfilhiot whirled about. "Who are you? Come forward! Somewhere I have seen you."

"You know me well, because you have done me great wrongs. I am Shimrod."

Carfilhiot stared. "Shimrod!"

"You hold the two children Glyneth and Dhrun who are dear to me. You will return them now into my custody. You robbed my manse. Trilda and took my possessions. Bring them to me now."

Carfilhiot drew his lips back in a ghastly grin. "And what do you offer in return?"

Shimrod spoke in a soft dull voice. "I swore that the villains who looted Trilda would die after first suffering some of the torment they had visited upon my friend Grofinet. I took Rughalt the assassin through his sore knees. He died in great pain but first he named you as his accomplice. Return me now my goods and the two children. I will reluctantly forswear myself: you will not die by my hand nor by the pain I would give you. I have nothing more to offer, but it is a great deal."

Carfilhiot, with eyebrows raised and lids half-lowered, contrived an expression of austere distaste. He spoke patiently, like one explaining self-evident truths to a lack-wit. "You are nothing to me. I have taken your goods because I wanted them. I will do so again, perchance. Beware of me, Shimrod!"

Sir Glide spoke. "Sir, once more I cite you the orders of your liege lord King Aillas. He bids you come down from your palace and submit yourself to his justice. He is not a harsh man and prefers to spill no blood."

"Ha ha! So there is how the wind blows! And what does he offer me for this merciful service?"

"The benefits are very real. The noble Shimrod has made requests. If you oblige him, he undertakes not to take your life. Comply with his proposals! By syllogism, we offer you life itself: the most valuable and concrete advantage possible to offer."

Carfilhiot flung himself down in his chair. After a moment he chuckled. "Sir Glide, you have a deft tongue. One less tolerant than myself might even consider you insolent; even I am taken aback. You come here naked of protection but for a safe-conduct which teeters upon discretion and propriety. Next, you seek to extort large concessions through taunts and threats, which rankle harshly on the ear. In my aviary you would quickly learn to warble more pleasing songs."

"Sir, my intent is not to exasperate but to persuade. I had hoped to address your reason rather than your emotions."

Carfilhiot jumped again to his feet. "Sir, I am losing patience with your glibness."

"Very well, sir, I will say no more. What specific response shall I take to King Aillas?"

"You may tell him that Faude Carfilhiot, Duke of Vale Evander, reacts negatively to his proposals. In his forthcoming war with King Casmir I consider myself neutral."

"I will relay to him these exact words."

Shimrod spoke. "And my requests?"

Carfilhiot's eyes seemed to show a yellow light. "Like Sir Glide you offer me nothing and expect all. I cannot oblige you."

Sir Glide performed the minimal bow required by chivalric protocol. "Our thanks, at least, for your attention."

"If you hoped to arouse my deep antipathy, you have succeeded," said Carfilhiot. "Otherwise, the occasion has been time wasted. This way, if you please." He ushered the two past the aviary, where Mad King Deuel hopped forward with an urgent new complaint, and into the lower hall, where Carfilhiot summoned his chamberlain. "Conduct these gentlemen to their horses." He turned to face the two. "I bid you farewell. My parole guards you while you pass down the valley. Should you return I will consider you hostile interlopers."

Shimrod said: "A final word with you."

"As you wish."

"Let us step outside; what I have to say to you sounds sickly and muffled inside your hall."

Carfilhiot ushered Shimrod out upon the terrace. "Speak then." They stood in the full light of afternoon.

"I am a magician of the eleventh level," said Shimrod. "When you robbed me at Trilda you diverted me from my studies. Now they will resume. How will you protect yourself against me?"

"Would you dare pit yourself against Tamurello?"

"He will not protect you against me. He stands in fear of Murgen."

"I am secure."

"Not so. At Trilda you committed the provocation; I am allowed my revenge. That is the law."

Carfilhiot's mouth drooped. "It does not apply."

"No? Who protected Rughalt when his body burned from inside out? Who will protect you? Tamurello? Ask him. He will give you assurances, but their falsity will be easy to detect. One last time: give me my possessions and my two children."

"I submit to no man's orders."

Shimrod turned away. He crossed the terrace and mounted his horse. The two emissaries rode down the zig-zag way, past the gantry and the four taut men from Femus Castle, and so down the road toward Ys.

A band of fifteen ragged mendicants straggled south along the Ulf Passway. Some walked hunched; others hopped on crippled legs; others wore bandages stained by festering sores. Approaching the fortress at Kaul Bocach, they noted the soldiers on guard and shambled forward at best speed, groaning p-teously and demanding alms. The soldiers drew back in distaste and passed the group through quickly.

Once beyond the fort the mendicants recovered their health. They straightened, discarded bandages and hobbled no more. In a forest a mile from the fortress they brought axes from under their garments, cut poles and built four long ladders.

The afternoon passed. At dusk another group approached Kaul Bocach: this time a troupe of vagabond entertainers. They made camp in front of the fort, broached a keg of wine, set meat to cooking on spits and presently began to play music while six comely maidens danced jigs in the firelight.

The soldiers of the fort went to watch the merriment and to call out compliments to the maidens. Meanwhile the first group returned in stealth. They raised their ladders, climbed unseen and unheard to the parapets.

Quickly and quietly they knifed a pair of luckless guards whose attention had been fixed on the dancing, then descended to the wardroom, where they killed several more soldiers at rest on their pallets, then leapt upon the backs of those who watched the entertainment. The performance came to an instant halt. The entertainers joined the fight and in three minutes the forces of South Ulfland once more controlled the fortress at Kaul Bocach.

The commander and four survivors were sent south with a message:

CASMIR, KING OF LYONESSE: TAKE NOTE!

The fortress Kaul Bocach is once more ours, and the interlopers from Lyonesse have been killed and expelled. Neither trickery nor all the valor of Lyonesse will again take Kaul Bocach from us. Enter South Ulfland at your peril! Do you wish to test your armies against our Ulfish might? Come by way of Poelitetz; you will find it safer and easier.

I sign myself

Goles of Cleadstone Castle, Captain of the Ulf armies At Kaul Bocach.

The night was dark and moonless; around Tintzin Fyral the mountains bulked black against the stars. In his high tower Carfilhiot sat brooding. His attitude suggested impatience, as if he were waiting for some signal or occurrence which had failed to show itself. At last he jumped to his feet and went to his workroom. On the wall hung a circular frame something less than a foot in diameter, surrounding a gray membrane. Carfilhiot plucked at the center of the membrane, to draw out a button of substance which grew rapidly under his hand to become a nose of first vulgar, then extremely large size: a great red hooked member with flaring hairy nostrils.

Carfilhiot gave a hiss of exasperation; tonight the sandestin was restless and frolicsome. He seized the great red nose, twisted and kneaded it to the form of a crude and lumpy ear, which squirmed under his fingers to become a lank green foot. Carfilhiot used both hands to cope with the object and again produced an ear, into which he uttered a sharp command: "Hear! Listen and hear! Speak my words to Tamurello at Faroli. Tamurello, do you hear? Tamurello, make response!"

The ear altered to become an ear of ordinary configuration. To the side a nubbin twisted and curled to form a mouth, shaped precisely like Tamurello's own mouth. The organ spoke, in Tamurello's voice: "Faude, I am here. Sandestin, show a face."

The membrane coiled and twisted, to become Tamurello's face, save for the nose, where the sandestin, from carelessness, or perhaps caprice, placed the ear it had already created.

Carfilhiot spoke earnestly: "Events are fast in progress! Troice armies have landed at Ys and the Troice king now calls himself King of South Ulfland. The barons have not stayed him, and I am isolated."

Tamurello made a reflective sound. "Interesting."

"More than interesting!" cried Carfilhiot. "Today two emissaries came to me. The first ordered that I surrender myself to the new king. He uttered no compliments and no guarantees, which I regard as a sinister sign. Naturally I refused to do this."

"Unwise! You should have declared yourself a loyal vassal, but far too ill either to receive visitors or come down from your castle, thereby offering neither challenge nor pretext."

"I obey no man's bidding," said Carfilhiot fretfully.

Tamurello made no comment. Carfilhiot went on. "The second emissary was Shimrod."

"Shimrod!"

"Indeed. He came in company with the first, skulking in the shadows like a ghost, then springing forth to demand his two children and his magic stuff. Again I gave refusal."

"Unwise, unwise! You must learn the art of graceful acquiescence, when it becomes a useful option. The children are useless to you, as are Shimrod's stuffs. You might have ensured his neutrality!"

"Bah," said Carfilhiot. "He is a trifle compared to you—whom, incidentally, he maligned and scorned."

"In what wise?"

"He said that you were undependable, that your word was not true and that you would not secure me from harm. I laughed at him."

"Yes, just so," said Tamurello in an abstracted voice. "Still, what can Shimrod do against you?"

"He can visit an awful magic upon me."

"So to violate the edict? Never. Are you not the thing of Desmei? Are you not possessed of magical apparatus? Thereby you become a magician."

"The magic is locked in a puzzle! It is useless!" Murgen may not be convinced. After all, the apparatus was stolen from Shimrod, which must be regarded as provocation of one magician by another."

Tamurello chuckled. "But remember this! At that time you lacked magical implements and so were a layman."

"The argument seems strained."

"It is logic; no more, no less."

Carfilhiot was still dubious. "I kidnapped his children, which again could be construed as ‘incitement.'"

Tamurello's response, even transmitted through the lips of the sandestin, seemed rather dry. "In that case, return Shimrod his children and his goods."

Carfilhiot said coldly: "I now regard the children as hostages to guarantee my own safety. As for the magical stuffs, would you prefer that I use them in tandem with you, or that Shimrod use them to support Murgen? Remember, that was our original concept."

Tamurello sighed. "It is the dilemma reduced to its starkest terms " he admitted. "On this basis, if no other, I must support you. Still, under no circumstances may the children be harmed, since the chain of events would at the end certainly confront me with Murgen's fury."

Carfilhiot spoke in his usual airy tones. "I suspect that you exaggerate their significance."

"Nevertheless you must obey!"

Carfilhiot shrugged. "Oh I shall humor your whims, right enough."

The sandestin precisely reproduced Tamurello's small tremulous laugh. "Call them what you like."