The Knight

Chapter 18. Alone

When I had seen everything, I went back to the captain’s cabin. Pouk had made the bed and swept and mopped the floor, and was unpacking things we had bought ashore and stowing them in chests and cupboards. I got out the scield I had promised him and put another one with it, saying that he had earned that much and more, which was the truth.

“Thankee, Sir Able. Thankee, sir.” He bowed, touching his cap at the same time, something I was going to see a lot of, although I did not know it then. “You don’t have to give no more than the ’un, sir. Only I’ll take ’em if you want to give ’em to me. Only I’ll give ’em back if you need ’em for yourself, sir.”

I shook my head. “They’re yours. You earned them, like I said. You might be able to hitch a ride back to shore on that boat the sailors are unloading, but you’d better hurry. It’s about empty now.”

Pouk shook his head. “I’m stayin’ on, sir, with your leave. I was lookin’ out sharp for a berth when you spied me on th’ wharf. I’ve dropped my hook, if you take my meanin’.”

“You’re planning to sail on this ship?” I sat down on my bed.

“Aye, sir. As your man, sir.” Seeing the way I looked, he added, “You need somebody what will look out for you, sir. You’re as good a man as ever I seen, an’ smart, an’ I’m sure you know lots out o’ books. Only sometimes you’re a green hand, sir. I seen it when we was fittin’ up, sir. They’d o’ cheated you twenty times over. So you need somebody bad—somebody that knows th’ ways.”

That made me mad. Not mad at Pouk—it was pretty hard to be mad at Pouk, usually—but mad at people, mad at a world where so many were out to cheat everybody. Maybe it was because of the time in Aelfrice; I do not know. “I was a boy not long ago,” I told Pouk. “It hasn’t been long at all, and in lots of ways, I still am.”

“Course, sir. So that’s me, sir. I ain’t bad as they come, but I’m plenty bad enough. Try me, an’ you’ll see.”

“As for books, I looked into some in Irringsmouth and the writing was just black marks on the paper. I can no more read than you can, Pouk.”

“You know what’s in ’em, sir. That’s what matters.”

“I doubt it.” I took a deep breath. “I do know this, though. I know I don’t need a servant, and I can’t afford to pay one, certainly not a scield a day.”

“There you are, sir! A scield? That’s wages for a month for a sailor or a stableman or just about anybody.”

I said no, and I made it as firm as I knew how.

“So I’m set for a couple o’ months, an’ after that I’d let it ride a couple more. Only I don’t want no pay, sir.” He laid his two scields on the table. “Just let me stay on, an’ I’ll look out for myself. Why, I mixed my seabag in with your bags, sir, an’ you didn’t pay no mind.”

I was worried about my gold, gold in the burse that hung from my belt and more in my old bag, which was hanging from my neck under my clothes. I told him he could not sleep in the cabin with me, and that was final.

He grinned, seeing he had won. “Why, I don’t want to, sir. I’ll sleep in front o’ th’ door, sir, like I done last night. That way can’t nobody get in without wakin’ me up.”

“On that wooden floor?” I had slept on skins and dead leaves a lot by then, but I could not imagine Pouk or anybody sleeping on bare boards. “Th’ deck, sir? Sure thing, sir. I’ve slept out on deck many an’ many a time.”

“Knights sleep in their armor, sometimes,” I told him. “What you do—what sailors do—must be worse. What will you do when it rains?”

“There’s a bit o’ set-in to your door, sir. Mebbe you didn’t notice, but there is. That’s what it’s for, an’ I’ve a bit o’ canvas to wrap myself in.”

I made a last try. “You’ll serve me for nothing? I warn you, Pouk, that’s what I’ll pay you.”

“Aye, sir! See them scields, sir? You take ’em. You won’t hear a word out o’ me.”

“I said I wouldn’t pay you, not that I’d rob you. I paid them to you. They’re yours now.” Then I thought about the outlaws I had killed, Bold Berthold’s hut, and some other things; and I said, “It seems to me, Pouk, that a true knight has to respect other people’s things, if they came by them honestly. If somebody came to rob me, I’d fight him and I might kill him. But how could I do it if I’d stolen myself?”

“I judge you’re right, sir. You always are, mostly.”

“So put them away. If you leave them on the table, I’ll take them, I swear.” He hesitated, then nodded and picked them up. “They tried to get me into th’ search party, sir. Second did, sir. Nur’s his name.”

“What search party?”

“Searchin’ th’ ship, sir. I dunno if they found anythin’.”

I thought I knew what they had been looking for, but I asked just the same.

“A dog, sir.” Seeing my face, Pouk backed away. “Just a big dog, sir. Lookout seen it swim out to th’ ship, sir, an’ climb aboard. Last night it was, sir.”

“But you don’t know if they found it?”

“No, sir. Like I said, sir. Second was after me to help look, only I was movin’ cap’n’s things out so I could put yours in, sir. Food’s in that ’un, sir, an’ beer’s in th’ corner there, an’—”

I held up my hand. “Just a minute.”

“Aye aye, sir. Only I want to say, sir, that’s another reason you need me, sir. Crew’ll come in an’ pinch it, sir, when you’re not in here, sir. Food, particular. Only I’ll be here an’ they can’t, sir.”

“And you won’t?” I tried to smile.

Pouk looked shocked. “Course I will. Only feedin’ one’s not like feedin’ twenty.”

“I suppose not. And you may find that you can steal less than you think. They haven’t found the dog, Pouk. I know that. But I want you to ask about him just the same. Find Megister Nur, or whatever he’s called, and tell him I want to know.”

“Aye aye, sir. Only I was wonderin’, sir. When we was ashore an’ you seen that big dog, sir, you—”

“Forget that.” I felt tired and I wanted to be alone, even if it was just for a minute or two. “Go ask Megister Nur like I told you, and tell me what he says.”

When Pouk had gone, I took out the foreign mace I had bought in Irringsmouth and looked it over carefully. The four corners of the blade were as sharp as broken glass. The end was cut off square, a diamond-shape that somebody had painted red. I thought I would file it sharp, like a spike, and went out and found a sailor. He said the carpenter might have a file, so I sent him to borrow it. He did, but when I tried to reshape the end of the blade the file would scarcely scratch it; so I told myself that if it were sharp the whole thing would be too much like a sword anyway. Disiri was going to bring me a sword, I thought, because I did not have one; and when she did, I would see her again. So I gave the idea up.

After that I barred the door, took out my gold, and stacked the coins on the table, all while wondering what I had stopped Pouk from saying. That the brave knight Sir Able had turned pale when he saw a half-bred mastiff? That he had started as if he had seen a ghost?

That big black shape I had seen when Gylf killed the outlaws, a dog as big as horse, with dripping jaws and fangs half as long as my arm, had been the Valfather’s dog. One of the Valfather’s dogs, and he had a whole pack of them. Nine or ten? Fifty or a hundred? For a minute I wondered about the Valfather. What was he like, what could he be like, if he had dogs like that? I still wanted to get to his castle in the sky. In Skai. It was crazy, but I did. I wanted to go there and take Disiri with me.

I still do.

After that I looked at all the coins, counting them and really looking at them, comparing one to another. They were gold ceptres, and when I had finished I still thought they were all the real thing. When we divided up the money, I had given Ulfa and her father the copper and brass and all the silver. All the foreign coins, too; there had been a good many of those, and a lot had been gold. I had kept only the gold ceptres for my share, and I was not sorry I had, either.

Some were a little worn, but a lot were new or nearly new. I took one of the new ones to a window where I could see it clearly in the sunlight. There was a big mace on one side, not like mine but a fancy club with a crown. On the other was the king with his face turned sidewise, just like that man on the quarter. There was writing underneath his picture, probably his name, but I could not read it. It was just a bunch of marks to me. I looked at the king and tried to think what he might be like because I knew that even if I worked for Duke Marder, Duke Marder worked for him. He was young and handsome, but he looked tough and maybe a something out past tough. Like he would do whatever he wanted, and if you did not like it you better get out of his way and keep your mouth shut.

After that, Pouk knocked on the door, and I put my gold away and let him in. He said they had not found the dog, and “Second” said it had probably jumped off the ship again, or else the lookout had been seeing things. Pouk said, “It’s your dog, ain’t it, sir?”

I said no, it was a dog I had been keeping for somebody else. That felt wrong as soon as I said it, and I did not feel right about it until I called Pouk back and said, “You were right, Pouk, he’s really my dog, and I’m pretty sure he’s still on the ship. I won’t tell you to look for him. If they didn’t find him you won’t either. But I want you to put a bucket of fresh water down in the hold where it will be a while before anybody finds it.”

He said he would, and went off to do it.

And that is all about that day, except that I stayed on the ship because I was pretty sure the captain would sail it away if I got off. That day and the next day I learned quite a bit about ships and the work sailors do, mostly by watching and asking Pouk and Kerl questions.

On the second day, a couple of hours after it got dark, we put out like the captain had said we would. Sitting in my cabin I watched the lights of Irringsmouth fade out behind us until there was nothing but dark, greasy-looking sea. Pretty soon I was going to understand it a lot better than I have ever understood people; but I did not know about that then. Then it was only something I loved, something beautiful and dangerous and tricky, like Disiri.

After that, I just sat in my cabin. Maybe I got out Sword Breaker again. I do not remember. I could not have seen it very well, because I kept the cabin dark, waiting for what I thought would be coming.

Finally I thought, well, there is no Mac and no TV and no books or magazines to read. But there are feather pens in the desk, and paper and ink. I could write myself notes or make lists or something.

So I lit one of the lamps and got the stuff out of the drawer and started writing down the most important things that had happened to me, like finding a spiny orange tree in the woods, Parka, and seeing the knight that blew away in that wrecked castle. I wrote up to Disiri leaving and me finding Disira and Ossar. Then I decided to give it up.

Only there was one other thing. When I picked up the list I had been writing, meaning to wad it up and toss it out the window, I looked at it. And all of a sudden I saw it was not the way we wrote at school at all. It was Aelf writing. I had not known I could do it, but I had done it and I could read it.