Lyonesse

Chapter 12

KING CASMIR DESPATCHED AN ENVOY to Tintzin Fyral who, in due course returned with an ivory tube, from which the Chief Herald extracted a scroll. He read to King Casmir:

Noble Sir:

As ever my respectful compliments! I am pleased to learn of your impending visit. Be assured that our welcome will be appropriate to your regal person and distinguished retinue which, so I suggest, should number no more than eight, since at Tintzin Fyral we lack the expansive grace of Haidion.

Again, my most cordial salute!

Faude Carfilhiot,

Vale Evander, the Duke.

King Casmir immediately rode north with a retinue of twenty knights, ten servants and three camp-wagons.

The first night the company halted at Duke Baldred's castle, Twannic. On the second day they rode north through the Troagh, a chaos of pinnacles and defiles. On the third day they crossed the border into South Ulfland. Halfway through the afternoon, at the Gates of Cerberus, the cliffs closed in to constrict the way, which was blocked by the fortress Kaul Bocach. The garrison consisted of a dozen raggle-taggle soldiers and a commander who found banditry less profitable than exacting tolls from travelers.

At a challenge from the sentry the cavalcade from Lyonesse halted, while the soldiers of the garrison, blinking and scowling under steel caps, slouched out upon the battlements.

The knight Sir Welty rode forward.

"Halt!" called the commander. "Name your names, your origin, destination and purpose, so that we may reckon the lawful toll."

"We are noblemen in the service of King Casmir of Lyonesse. We ride to visit the Duke of Vale Evander, at his invitation, and we are exempt from toll!"

"No one is exempt from toll, save only King Oriante and the great god Mithra. You must pay ten silver florins."

Sir Welty rode back to confer with Casmir, who thoughtfully appraised the fort. "Pay," said King Casmir. "We will deal with these scoundrels on our return."

Sir Welty returned to the fort and contemptuously tossed a pack of coins to the captain.

"Pass, gentlemen."

Two by two the company rode by Kaul Bocach, and that night rested on a meadow beside the south fork of the Evander.

At noon of the following day the troop halted before Tintzin Fyral, where it surmounted a tall crag, as if growing from the substance of the crag itself.

King Casmir and eight of his knights rode forward; the others turned aside and set up a camp beside the Evander.

A herald came out from the castle, and addressed King Casmir. "Sir, I bring Duke Carfilhiot's compliments and his request that you follow me. We ride a crooked road up the side of the crag, but have no concern; the danger is only to enemies. I will lead the way."

As the troop proceeded, the stench of carrion came on the breeze. In the middle distance the Evander flowed across a green meadow where rose an array of twenty poles, half supporting impaled corpses.

"That is hardly a welcoming sight," King Casmir told the herald.

"Sir, it reminds the duke's enemies that his patience is not inexhaustible."

King Casmir shrugged, offended not so much by Carfilhiot's acts as by the odor.

At the base of the crag waited an honor guard of four knights in ceremonial plate armor, and Casmir wondered how Carfilhiot knew so closely the hour of his coming. A signal from Kaul Bocach? Spies at Haidion? Casmir, who had never been able to introduce spies into Tintzin Fyral, frowned at the thought.

The cavalcade mounted the crag by a road cut into the rock, which finally, high in the air, turned under a portcullis into the castle's forecourt.

Duke Carfilhiot came forward; King Casmir dismounted; the two pressed each other in a formal embrace.

"Sir, I am delighted by your visit," said Carfilhiot. "I have arranged no suitable festivities, but not from any lack of good will. In truth, you gave me too short notice."

"I am perfectly suited," said King Casmir. "I am not here for frivolity. Rather, I hope to explore once more matters of mutual advantage."

"Excellent! That is always a topic of interest. This is your first visit to Tintzin Fyral, is it not?"

"I saw it as a young man, but from a distance. It is beyond question a mighty fortress."

"Indeed. We command four important roads: to Lyonesse, to Ys, over the Ulfish moors and the border road north to Dahaut. We are self-sufficient. I have driven a well deep, through solid stone into a flowing aquifer. We maintain supplies for years of siege. Four men could hold the access road against a thousand, or a million. I consider the castle impregnable."

"I am inclined to agree," said Casmir. "Still, what of the saddle? If a force occupied the mountain yonder, conceivably it might bring siege engines to bear."

Carfilhiot turned to inspect the heights to the north, which were connected to the crag by a saddle, as if he had never before noticed this particular vista. "So it would seem."

"But you are not alarmed?"

Carfilhiot laughed, showing perfect white teeth. "My enemies have reflected long and well on Breakback Ridge. As for the saddle, I have my little wiles."

King Casmir nodded. "The view is exceptionally fine."

"True. On a clear day, from my high workroom, I scan the entire vale, from here to Ys. But now you must refresh yourself, and then we can take up our conversation."

Casmir was conducted to a set of high chambers overlooking Vale Evander: a view across twenty miles of soft green landscape to a far glint of sea. Air, fresh save for an occasional cloying taint, blew through the open windows. Casmir thought of Carfilhiot's dead enemies on the meadow below, each silent on his own pole.

An image flickered through his mind: Suldrun pallid and drawn here at Tintzin Fyral, breathing the putrid air. He thrust away the picture. The affair was over and done.

Two bare-chested black Moorish boys, wearing turbans of purple silk, red pantaloons and sandals with spiral toes, helped him with his bath, then dressed him in silk small-clothes and a tawny-buff robe decorated with black rosettes.

Casmir descended to the great hall, past an enormous aviary, where birds of many-colored plumage flew from branch to branch. Carfilhiot awaited him in the great hall; the two men seated themselves on divans and were served frozen fruit sherbet in silver cups.

"Excellent," said Casmir. "Your hospitality is pleasant."

"It is informal and I hope that you will not be supremely bored," murmured Carfilhiot.

Casmir put aside the ice. "I have come here to discuss a matter of importance." He glanced at the servants. Carfilhiot waved them from the room. "Proceed."

Casmir leaned back in his chair. "King Granice recently sent out a diplomatic mission, on one of his new warships. They put into Blaloc, Pomperol, Dahaut, Cluggach in Godelia and Ys. The emissaries decried my ambitions and proposed an alliance to defeat me. They won only lukewarm support, if any, even though"—Casmir smiled a cold smile—"I have made no attempt to disguise my intentions. Each hopes the others will fight the battle; each wishes to be the single kingdom unmolested. Granice, I am sure, expected no more; he wanted to assert both his leadership and his command of the sea. In this he succeeded very well. His ship destroyed a Ska vessel which at once changes our perceptions of the Ska; they can no longer be considered invincible, and Troice sea-power is magnified, They paid a price, losing the commander and one of the two royal princes aboard.

"For me the message is clear. The Troice become stronger; I must strike and cause a dislocation. The obvious place is South Ulfland, from where I can attack the Ska in North Ulfland, before they consolidate their holdings. Once I take the fortress Poelitetz, Dahaut is at my mercy. Audry cannot fight me from both west and south.

"First then—to take South Ulfland, with maximum facility, which presupposes your cooperation." Casmir paused. Carfilhiot, looking thoughtfully into the fire, made no immediate response.

The silence became uncomfortable. Carfilhiot stirred and said: "You have, as you know, my personal well-wishes, but I am not altogether a free agent, and I must conduct myself with circumspection."

"Indeed," said Casmir. "You apparently do not refer to your nominal liege-lord King Oriante."

"Definitely not."

"Who, may I ask, are the enemies you are so pointedly trying to dissuade?"

Carfilhiot made a motion. "I agree, the stench is appalling. Those are rogues of the moors: petty barons, ten-tuffet lords, little better than bandits, so that an honest man takes his life in his hands to ride out across the fells for a day's hunting. South Ulfland is essentially lawless, save for Vale Evander. Poor Oriante can't dominate his wife, much less a kingdom. Every clan chieftain fancies himself an aristocrat and builds a mountain fortress, from which he raids his neighbors. I have attempted to bring order: a thankless job. I am styled a despot and an ogre. Harshness, however, is the only language these highland brutes understand."

"These are the enemies who cause your circumspection?"

"No." Carfilhiot rose to his feet and went to stand with his back to the fire. He looked down at Casmir with cool dispassion. "In all candor, here are the facts. I am a student of magic. I am taught by the great Tamurello, and I am under obligation, so that I must refer to him matters of policy. That is the situation."

Casmir stared up into Carfilhiot's eyes. "When may I expect your response?"

"Why wait?" asked Carfilhiot. "Let us settle the matter now. Come."

The two climbed to Carfilhiot's workroom, Casmir now quiet, alert and alive with interest.

Carfilhiot's apparatus was almost embarrassingly scant; even Casmir's trifles were impressive by contrast. Perhaps, Casmir speculated, Carfilhiot kept the larger part of his equipment stored in cabinets.

A large map of Hybras, carved in various woods, dominated all else, in both size and evident importance. In a panel at the back of the map had been carved a face: the semblance, so it seemed, of Tamurello, in crude and exaggerated outlines. The craftsman had been at no pains to flatter Tamurello. The forehead bulged over protruding eyes; cheeks and lips were painted a particularly unpleasant red. Carfilhiot pointedly offered no explanations. He pulled at the ear-lobe of the image. "Tamurello! hear the voice of Faude Carfilhiot!" He touched the mouth. "Tamurello, speak!"

In a wooden croak the mouth said: "I hear and speak."

Carfilhiot touched the eyes. "Tamurello! Look upon me and King Casmir of Lyonesse. We are considering the use of his armies in South Ulfland, to quell disorder and to extend King Casmir's wise rule. We understand your policy of detachment; still we ask your advice."

The image spoke: "I advise no alien troops in South Ulfland, most especially the armies of Lyonesse. King Casmir, your goals do you credit, but they would unsettle all Hybras, including Dahaut, to bring inconvenience upon me. I advise that you return to Lyonesse and make peace with Troicinet. Carfilhiot, I advise that you decisively use the might of Tintzin Fyral to bar incursions into South Ulfland."

"Thank you," spoke Carfilhiot. "We will surely take your advice to heart."

Casmir said no word. Together they descended to the parlor, where, for an hour, they spoke courteously of small subjects. Casmir declared himself ready for his bed, and Carfilhiot wished him a comfortable night's sleep.

In the morning King Casmir rose early, expressed gratitude to Carfilhiot for his hospitality, and with no further ado made his departure.

At noon the party approached Kaul Bocach. King Casmir, with half of his knights passed the fort after paying a toll of eight silver florins. A few yards along the road they halted. The rest of the party approached the fortress. The captain of the fortress stepped forward. "Why did you not pass all together? It is now necessary that you pay another eight florins."

Sir Welty dismounted without haste. He seized the captain and held a knife to his throat. "Which will you be: a dead Ulfish cutthroat, or a live soldier in the service of King Casmir of Lyonesse?"

The captain's steel hat fell off, his bald brown pate bobbed as he writhed and struggled. He gasped. "This is treachery! Where is honor?"

Look yonder; there sits King Casmir. -Do you accuse him of dishonor, after mulcting him of his royal money?"

"Naturally not, still—"

Sir Welty pricked him with the knife. "Order your men out for inspection. You will cook over a slow fire if a drop of blood, other than your own, is spilled."

The captain attempted a final defiance. "You expect me to deliver our impregnable Kaul Bocach into your hands without so much as a protest?"

"Protest all you like. In fact, I'll let you go back within. Then you are under siege. We will climb the cliff and drop boulders on the battlements."

"Possible perhaps, but very difficult." We will fire logs and thrust them into the passage; they shall blaze and smoulder, you will smoke and bake as the heat spreads. Do you defy the might of Lyonesse?"

The captain heaved a deep breath. "Of course not! As I declared from the very first, I gladly enter the service of the most gracious King Casmir! Ho, guards! Out for inspection!"

Glumly the garrison filed out to stand scowling and disheveled in the sunlight, hair tousled under their steel caps.

Casmir looked them over with contempt. "It might be easier to lop off their heads."

"Have no fear!" cried the captain. "We are the smartest of troops under ordinary circumstances!"

King Casmir shrugged, and turned away. The fortress tolls were loaded into one of the wagons; Sir Welty and fourteen knights remained as a temporary garrison and King Casmir joylessly returned to Lyonesse Town.

In his workroom at Tintzin Fyral Carfilhiot once again engaged the attention of Tamurello.

"Casmir has departed. Our relationship is at best formally polite."

"The very optimum! Kings, like children, tend to be opportunistic. Generosity only spoils them. They equate affability with weakness and hasten to exploit it."

"Casmir's temperament is even less pleasant. He is as sin-gleminded as a fish. I saw him spontaneous only here in my workroom; he is interested in magic, and has ambitions in this direction."

"For Casmir, forever futile. He lacks the patience and here he is much like yourself."

"Possibly true. I am anxious to proceed into the first extensions."

"The situation is as before. The field of analogues must be like a second nature to you. How long can you fix an image in your mind, then change its colors at your will, while holding fixed lineaments?"

"I am not proficient."

"These images should be hard as rocks. Upon conceiving a landscape you must be able to count the leaves on a tree, then recount to the same number."

"That is a difficult exercise. Why can't I merely work the apparatus?"

"Aha! Where will you obtain this apparatus? Despite my love for you, I can part with none of my hard-won operators."

"Still, one can always contrive new apparatus."

"Indeed? I would be glad to learn this hermetic and abstruse secret."

"Still, you agree, it is possible."

"But difficult. Sandestins are no longer innocent nor plentiful nor accommodating... Eh! Ha!" This was a sudden exclamation. Tamurello spoke in a changed voice. "A thought occurs to me. It's so beautiful a thought that I hardly dare to think it."

"Tell me this thought."

Tamurello's silence was that of a man engaged in a complex calculation. Finally he said: "It is a dangerous thought. I could neither advocate nor even suggest such a thought!"

"Tell me the thought!"

"Even so much is to join in its implementation!"

"It must be a dangerous thought indeed."

"True. Let us pass on to safer subjects. I might make this mischievous observation: one way to secure magical apparatus is, in blunt language, to rob another magician, who thereupon may become too feeble to avenge the predation—especially if he does not know its perpetrator."

"So far I follow you closely. What then?"

"Suppose one were to rob a magician: who would he choose to victimize? Murgen? Me? Baibalides? Never. The consequences would be certain, swift and awful. One would seek a novice still fresh to his lore, and preferably one with an amplitude of equipment, so that the theft yields a good return. Also, the victim should be one whom he perceives as an enemy of the future. The time to weaken, or even destroy, that person is now! I speak of course in the purest of hypothetical terms."

"For the purposes of illustration and still hypothetically, who might such a person be?"

Tamurello could not bring himself to utter a name. "Even hypothetical contingencies must be explored down several levels, and whole areas of duplicity must be arranged; we will talk more of this later, meanwhile, not a word to anyone else!"