The Wizard

Chapter 28. Morcaine And More Magic

She stepped from the darkness as you might step from an unlit room into a well-lit one. A moment before I would have said that no woman in Redhall was taller than I, though Hela was, and the Daughters of Angr were taller than her sons.

This woman overtopped me, and her gold coronet made her look taller still. She was willow-slender, and willow-lithe, long-necked, and long-legged. So groomed was her jet-black hair, and so lustrous, that for a second I thought she wore a velvet hood beneath the coronet.

“Don’t you know me?” She laughed again; there was no merriment in that laugh, then or ever. “We’ve met, you and I, differently dressed.”

I bowed. “I could never have forgotten such a lady.”

“As stepped from a corner of your room? But you have.” The laugh came again. “You wore armor. I wore nothing. Now I come to grant a wish, yet fully dressed. Do you credit a Most High God?”

The question caught me by surprise. I said, “Why of course,” stammering like the boy I pretended not to be.

“I do and don’t.” She smiled, and the smile became her laugh. It was music, but I never ached to hear it again as I did Disiri’s. Even then, I thought her less than human, and that laugh was at the root of my opinion.

“I don’t and do.” She cocked her head like a bird.

I bowed again. “Just so, My Lady. We can think only of creatures, of things He’s made. Creatures are all we know, and can be all we know until we know Him. When we think of Him like that, we find we can’t believe. He can’t be like a creature any more than a carpenter is like a table.”

She nodded. “Wisely spoken. When I see how the world goes, I know there cannot be a Most High God. And yet that fiendish humor! Have you recognized me?”

“No, My Lady.”

“Poor dear. If I took off my crown and gown, you’d know me on the instant. You speak of tables.”

She strode to the far end of the long serving table on which my ale rested; her smooth, oval face held no fear, but I sensed that she did not wish to come near Org. “Suppose I lay here, naked.” One long white hand caressed the wood.

“You were the sacrifice offered Grengarm.”

“I was, and you my rescuer. Did you hope to enjoy me?”

I shook my head.

“There on his altar, or in some pleasant glade. I was in no mood to be enjoyed. I thought he’d devour us.”

I explained that I did not blame her, and all the while Org whispered to me of stealth and broken necks. Gylf had appeared in a doorway and stood watching us, his eyes alert.

“I know your name, Sir Able. Much about you, too. That you stabbed King Gilling—”

My shock must have appeared on my face.

“You didn’t? Or are you startled that I divined it?”

“I did not.”

“That’s well. I’d maintain that if I were you. Kings value themselves highly. Have you dredged up my name?”

I shook my head.

“Ah, such—such!—is fame. Suppose I had said that our king, my brother, values his blood far above that of the ruck of common men? Would you have known me then?”

“I’ve searched my memory, My Lady, but found nothing.”

“What a pity. Well, well. Where are we to begin?” She removed her coronet, laughed, and put it on a stool. “It’s why they have those points, you see? So that no one will sit on them and bend the gold.”

“My Lady—”

She laughed. “I’m not, you know—anyone’s lady. I’m a princess. Didn’t you hear me say so? King Arnthor is my brother. Don’t stare. I am Princess Morcaine, and the only princess our realm has—the only one it’s liable to have, since the queen keeps her legs crossed.” Morcaine shook out her hair, filling the air with musky perfume. “Will you free me from this gown? It’s too tight.”

“Your Highness, I love a queen. Not King Arnthor’s. Not Queen Idnn of Jotunland, either. Another one.”

Morcaine laughed again. “They’re as common as ditch water, these queens.”

“They’re not, Your Highness, and she’s like no other.”

“Because she’s the one you love. Haven’t you wondered about my under-things? I would’ve sworn I sensed that.”

Not knowing what to say, I said nothing.

“If you won’t let me show you, I’ll tell you. That below is invisible, a cobweb put there years ago. It serves its function still—or I hope it does, though when things are invisible it can be hard to tell.”

“I’m forgetting my manners. My servants are asleep—”

“Save these two.” Morcaine laughed.

“Yes, Your Highness. The rest are sleeping, but I can find a glass of good wine, if you wish it. Some little cakes and dried fruits, too.”

“A sip of your ale. May I have that?”

I presented the flagon that Halweard had brought me; she drained it and tossed it aside. “Now you’ve done your duty as Master of Redhall. We were discussing my underclothes, were we not?” She laughed, belched, and laughed as before. “Wouldn’t you like to see what holds these up?”

I shook my head.

“I’ve imps of lace for them. They bear them up as the giant on a map bears the world, and they will offer them to you like apples.” She paused, weighing the objects in question in her hands. “No, they’re bigger. Orbs. I like that. Orbs of ivory, smooth, firm, ruby-tipped. The king’s orb is gold, but I like mine better. So will you.”

“No, Your Highness.”

“Of course you will. If not now, another time. For the dragon. I’m in your debt.” Her face grew serious. “I repay debts. My father was a king in Mythgarthr, Mother a dragon of Muspel. My nurses were Aelf. Do you credit all that?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” I said, “I know it to be true.”

“I’m a good friend but a terrible enemy. You’ll find that’s true too. I’ve been watching you whenever I could find the time. Are those woman as big as they look?”

“Bigger, Your Highness. When I learned that their women lived separately, I wondered why the Frost Giants permitted it. When I met those women, I understood.”

“You never quailed before them.”

I shrugged.

“You’re the greatest knight in Mythgarthr. I couldn’t watch you in Skai, but I know you went there. You came back, too. You’re going to need a friend in Thortower. It’s what you said and why I came. It’s truer than you can know.”

“After speaking with one of those who live there, as I have been just now, I’m sure you’re right, Your Highness.”

“Do you think I offer myself to anyone and everyone? You couldn’t be more wrong.”

I struggled to explain that I thought nothing of the sort, but had to be true to Disiri.

“Is she true to you? You needn’t answer—I see it in your face.” Morcaine paused, and for the space of a breath white teeth gnawed her full lower lip. “I’m sorry. I never thought I’d say that to a man, but I am.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. You’re too kind.”

“I’ve been accused of many failings, but never before of that one. Never again, I imagine.”

Sensing that she was about to go, Org stirred.

“Are you sure, Sir Able? It doesn’t have to be on the table. I merely thought we might like to pretend it was that altar. We can go to your bed.”

“I’m tempted beyond endurance, but I can’t. I won’t.”

She laughed for perhaps the twentieth time, and stepped backward until darkness lapped the edges of her gown. Her coronet rose as though it were painted wood and the air were water. It floated to her and settled upon her head.

“That impressed you, I see.” She laughed. “In payment for your astonishment—you have visitors. Better rouse a servant if you don’t want to answer your own door.”

The knocker banged at the last word. When it stopped I said, “That will wake Halweard, if waking’s needed.”

Smiling, she took another step back; firelight returned, and I felt that the knocker had cut short a dream. Soon the door rasped on its hinges. Hearing voices and the tread of booted feet, I told Org he was not to kill people or livestock without my leave, but that he might take game in the park, and sent him away.

Gylf came to sit by me; I stroked his head. “Did you see her, Gylf ? Did you see her eyes? Disiri has eyes of yellow fire, as all Aelf do. Her were black, but how they blazed!”

“Ears up.”

“Oh, yes. She’s dangerous. I realize that.”

In the corridor I heard Halweard say, “Sir Able’s abed, I’m sure. We’ll find you a place to sleep, and—”

I called, “In here!,” and they trooped in: Halweard, Qut, Wistan, Pouk, and Uns. Halweard asked, “Is this your squire, Sir Able? That’s what he says.”

Qut added, “I thought it best to let ’em in, sir, but I come to the hall with ’em to make sure it was all right. We can put ’em out if you want.”

“We’s his folk,” Uns began; and Pouk, “I signed on ‘fore anybody, an’ it ain’t right if—”

I silenced them, affirmed that Wistan was my squire, and told him to speak.

“We rode after you, Sir Able. That’s all.” He cleared his throat. “I know you had to leave us behind, there wasn’t any way you could’ve taken us with you, but you did. So I said we ought to ride ahead too, and maybe we could catch up. Lord Beel wanted us to stay, but Queen Idnn—I mean Her Majesty—said we ought to go, and after that His Grace did too and His Lordship said it was all right. I said for them to stay, but they wouldn’t so I took them with me.”

Pouk knuckled his forehead. “We has our duty, sir, I said, only Sir Able’s—”

“You’ve got to tell them to obey me,” Wistan finished.

I explained that he would have to earn their respect.

“I’ll earn it with my sword next time.” Wistan looked grim. “They insisted on coming, and bringing two mules.”

I could see both wanted to talk, but I shook my head.

“It slowed us, but I kept driving them. I wanted to ride ahead. Yesterday I almost did. Only there might be bandits, and they wouldn’t have had anyone to protect them.”

Pouk snorted.

“So I stayed, Sir Able. Because of the mules.”

“I’ve few possessions. Are these things yours?”

“No, sir. Or not much. I—”

Uns interrupted. “All yarn, onna mools. Loot, Sar.”

“Gleanings from the Army of Jotunland, sir.” Wistan looked apologetic. “It hadn’t been divided when you left, but we did it the next morning according to the rule.”

Not knowing the rule, I asked him to quote it.

“I think I can, sir. A quarter for the crown. Of what remains, one share for every person present, plus a share over for every gently born person not knighted.” He touched his own chest. “Five for a knight, plus one for each man-at-arms and archer he brought, only the knight keeps those. Ten for each noble, plus five for each knight he brought. That meant fifteen for His Grace, sir, only they wouldn’t hear of it because you’re really His Grace’s knight, it wasn’t just Sir Woddet, and you did more than anybody, so they made him take twenty. And then—”

“Enough,” I said. “I take it I got five shares, and of course you got two yourself, and Pouk and Uns one each.”

“You got more’n that, sir,” Pouk told me proudly, “When it were shared out Sir Woddet said you oughta have more—”

Uns interrupted him. “‘N Sir Leort, sar. Him ta, ‘n da queen. A peck a’

‘um.”

Wistan nodded. “His Grace said everyone who wanted to add to your share should line up, and we put yours on a blanket and everyone passed by and added what they wanted. Her Majesty was first, and she put down a big gold cup full of gold, and after that everyone put in a lot.”

“Not you, I hope.”

Wistan looked embarrassed. “It was a lot for me, Sir Able. Nothing in comparison to Her Majesty’s gift.”

“I understand, and I thank you. It’s great to see you again, and Uns, too, and Pouk. Especially Pouk. You got permission to ride ahead, and you must have pressed hard to cover the distance as quickly as you did. What time did you set out this morning?”

“Before cockcrow.”

I nodded. “It must be nearly midnight now, and I’ve ill news. We’ll be leaving for Thortower in a day or two. I’d intended to go tomorrow, but you and your horses must rest. The mules and their loads can be left here.”

I sent them off to bed as quickly as I could, and woke my grooms. The mules’ packs I had carried up to my bedroom, where I glanced at a few things before I got ready for bed. I was nearly asleep when someone whispered, “There is magic there, Lord. I feel it.”

If I had been awake, I would have questioned her about it and about Morcaine—about Morcaine particularly. As it was, I told her to leave so I could sleep.

In reading over this long letter, Ben, I see I have left out lots of things. One is how I have written it. I will not say much about that now, except that I have lots of free time (more than I want, because Disiri is gone so much), and that sometimes I walk all morning beside the sea, thinking about the facts I am going to write down, what other people said and what I said. Mani’s voice, purring one minute and mewing loudly the next, Garsecg’s glance, the soft warmth of Gylf’s ears, and the deep love Cloud gave me. I would stroke her once I had unsaddled her in some lonely camp, and tell her that her horn was sprouting and that we must find a frontal with a hole for it, so that others would believe it to be an ornament. This we did when we reached Kingsdoom—but I am getting ahead of my story.

It had snowed a hand’s breadth during the night, and there was grumbling among my men-at-arms and archers when I turned them out. I told them we had slept outdoors in worse weather in Jotunland, and when Wistan joined us he related his experiences. I had him shoot with the archers afterward, knowing he would talk of our fights with the Angrborn.

I myself endeavored to teach the men-at-arms the lance. The older ones I found proficient already, having been well schooled by Sir Ravd. The younger scarcely knew how a lance should be held, and though they knew the helm and chest were the best targets, they were more likely to stick the horse.

Jousting had to be given up in favor of the dangling ring; when every one of them had ridden at it twice (and missed it in most cases) I called Wistan, and with Cloud’s consent mounted him on her, and had him ride at the ring. The wind came no swifter than Cloud with Wistan on her back, yet his lance took the ring both times. I was loud in my praise.

The light had begun to fade; but we made the most of it, finishing with practice swords in the snow and calling no halt until peeled wood could no longer be seen. We ate then, not they in their place and I in mine, but together in the wide hall, I at the head of the table with Wistan on my right. Pouk and Uns sat at its foot but were waited on by the servants just as my fighting men were. There was ale, bread, and meat in plenty, and cheeses, apples, and nuts afterward. While we cracked nuts, Wistan asked whether we would bring men to Thortower. I said we would not (which proved a mistake) for we came without hostile intent, and the road, which had proved safe for the three of them, would surely be safe for a knight, his squire, and two manservants.

It was not until I made ready for bed that I recalled the whisper of the night before. Then I unpacked the loads and looked at every object with care. Eterne was just such an object, to be sure; and yet Eterne seemed but a lovely blade until she cleared the scabbard.

There was a lot of coined gold, and I hesitated to dismiss it. I examined each coin, but though they were of five realms I found none that seemed different enough to arouse my interest. I dropped each into my burse and took it out again, without result.

How I puzzled over the remaining objects, turning each over and over, and wishing mightily that I had Mani to advise me! In the end I settled, with many a doubt, on three.

The first was a cup in which you could have washed a baby. It was, I felt sure, the one Idnn had given filled with gold. I thought it likely Gilling had given it to her; and since it was not unusual save for being red gold with good decoration, it seemed to me it might possess a secret virtue—that it might disarm poisons, or some such. I drank water from it, and a little wine, but felt nothing.

The second was a helm, old and not in the best repair. It was iron like other helms, and lined with leather somewhat worn and cracked. I suspected it because it did not appear a rich gift; yet it might have been worn by a hero and so bring glory to its owner. It was without a crest and undecorated save for marks about the eye slits. I put it on and looked about me, staring at the fire and peering out the window, but saw nothing unusual. After that, I polished and oiled it, oiling its dry leather also.

The last was a gold circle in serpent shape. It seemed to me it had been the finger ring of some fallen Frost Giant, although it would fit the arm of many a lady. It was too big for my fingers and too small for my arms. I looked through it and tossed it into the air without result.

After wasting some breath calling for Uri and Baki, I went to bed sorely puzzled, dreamed of the Tower of Glas, and woke thinking of the woman I had seen there with Lynnet and Etela. I built up the fire and slept again, dreaming of the raiders I faced long ago—we had captured their ship, which had something in its hold we dared not face.

For one more day I drilled the men; on the day following we left, Gylf, Wistan, Pouk, Uns, and I. I never saw Org on the road; but I heard him in the wood, although what I heard might have been no more than a branch snapping under the weight of the snow. We rode slowly, stopping at inns, and took more than a week to reach Kingsdoom, having traveled a distance Cloud, Gylf, and I might have covered in an hour.

Sheerwall does not stand in Forcetti but in a stronger place a league from the city. Not so Thortower—Kingsdoom surrounds it on every side, as the town called Utgard did Gilling’s castle, also called Utgard. But whereas the town of Utgard is a mere huddle of barnlike houses, the city of Kingsdoom boasts many noble buildings. It being late when we arrived, we found an inn near Thortower and spent what light remained sightseeing around the harbor and along the broad thoroughfare from the quay to the castle.

Here I have to go back to the objects I described. I had brought them with us. Once we were snug in our inn, I showed them one by one to Gylf, then called Wistan, Pouk, and Uns to me. They could make no more of them than I could.

I called for Baki when they had gone, and she came. I hugged her, which I should not have. She gasped for breath when I released her. “Lord, I came to say I would come no more. Now—well, who can say? Do you love me?”

I said I did, and I had missed her greatly.

“And I, you, Lord. Always when I was away, and often when I was at your side. You have freed us—Uri and me. We are your slaves no longer.”

“You never were. I freed you more than once.”

“So you did. But called us at need, and sent us off when that was convenient, rarely with thanks. May I sit?”

“Of course.”

She did, seating herself in my little fire. “We were yours because we were Setr’s. While Setr bound us, we could not go free.”

“Setr is dead, you’re free, and it was none of my doing. Vil slew him, though he could not have without Svon and Sir Garvaon, who occupied him while Vil got my bowstring around his neck. Your debt’s to them, not to me. Still, I’m glad you’re free and hope we can be friends.”

“Prettily spoken.” Baki looked at me sidelong. “You should do well at court.”

“I must do better than that,” I told her. “If you’ve ever wished me well, you must wish me well there. Have you really come to say good-bye?”

“I have! Soon—soon I will go, dear Lord, and you will never see me more. Nor I you. The parting is upon us, and that parting will be forever.”

She spoke so dramatically I knew she was lying, but I feigned belief for fear our parting would become real.

“Will you not bed me, Lord? Warm the lonely Aelfmaid who served you so long in this cold world? Chilled though I am, we shall be fire and flame in bed. You shall see.”

I shook my head.

“Then kiss me,” she said, and stepped from the fire.

I kissed her, held her, and kissed her again; when we parted I said, “I won’t try to keep you, Baki. But before you go I’ll ask a question and a small service. In less time than it would take me to explain, you can do both.”

“Then I will, for another kiss.”

“Good. A few days ago someone whispered in my ear that there was magic among the gifts Wistan brought. Was it you?”

She shook her head. “Not I, Lord.”

“Do you know who it was?”

“Two questions, so I earn two kisses. It was surely Uri, Lord. She is in terror of you, and does whatever she believes may stay your wrath.”

I said I would not harm her.

“I know it, Lord. She thinks only of her long betrayal. I—they broke my back. You healed me. I cannot forget.”

“I didn’t, Baki. Toug did.”

“He would not have, Lord, had you not fetched him, and told him to, and told him what to do.” So suddenly that I took a step backward, Baki abased herself. “Lord, forgive me! I love you, and would win you if I could. Would win you if I had to share you with a thousand Disiris.”

I raised her. “There’s nothing to forgive—or if there is, I forgive it. Baki, I’m going to show you three objects. If one casts a spell, will you tell me?”

She nodded. “I will, Lord, if I can divine it.”

I got out the gold serpent first. She took it, breathed on its ruby eyes, shrugged, and handed it back.

“Nothing? No magic?”

“It may be too subtle for me, Lord. But if it is, it is too subtle for Uri also. Or so I think.”

I pulled out the old helm and held it up.

Her jaw fell. For an instant she stood like a statue of bright copper. Then she was gone.

Knowing it would be useless to call to her again; I called Uri and then Disiri, begging her to come. Neither responded,and at last I went to bed, thinking a lot about the old helm—and King Arnthor and his court.