The jousting differed from our practice at Sheerwall largely in the splendor of armor and bardings, and the dress of the spectators. Our lances were supplied by the pursuivant, in order that there might be no difference in their quality, and to ensure that each would be topped by a steel crown of the same design. Heavy practice armor was not worn, but many used shields stouter than they would have carried to war.
Lists separated the jousters so that their mounts would not collide. One might strike the helm or the chest, if one could, but our lances were aimed at our opponent’s shields, for the most part. Each pair engaged until one was knocked from the saddle or cast away his lance in surrender. I had but a single match that first day, against Kei, the champion of the year before. There was no nonsense about breaking lances with us. Each sought to unhorse the other from the beginning, yet we shattered six before Kei’s mount went down.
Wistan and I would have been admitted to the sunlit stand near the throne when my match was done; I told him we would join Pouk and Uns among the commoners, I having more foresight in this instance than in most.
They came in less than an hour, not best pleased to have been sent by day. The lady of whom they spoke had relented. She would overlook my earlier refusal and consent to see me. I thanked them for their kindness in bearing her message, and told Wistan to follow me and bring Pouk and Uns. Gylf had been exploring Thortower, for jousting held little interest for him. He joined us before we had gone far, and the Sea Aelf offered no objection.
She had a tower of her own, as His Grace’s lady had at Sheerwall, and she received us in the great room of it, a room richly hung with black velvet in which censers strangely shaped hung smoldering. I did not like it and neither did Gylf, who sniffed behind every arras while she and I spoke.
“We are met again, Sir Able.” She gave me her hand.
I said, of course, that I was thrice honored.
“Why would you not come alone?” This with some pouting.
“Your beauty, Your Highness, is such that I feared for my self-restraint.”
“Liar. I would be your friend, Sir Able, if I could. You fear no magic.”
“That’s far from true, Your Highness.”
“Don’t toy with me. We both know—what we both know. If the dead walk at my command, what is that to you?”
“A lot, Your Highness. The dead aren’t always to be commanded. I fear for you.”
“As do I.” Her chair was like a throne, and the dais it stood on enhanced the impression. She rose, stepped from the dais, and stood swaying before me, a full head taller. “Don’t you think me a servant of the Most Low God, Sir Able?”
I shook my head. “He’s no god, Your Highness. Nor do you serve him.”
“You’re right, though I’ve considered it. I seek to do good by my sorcery. You need not believe it. I’ll prove it as the opportunity arises. You bent the knee to me.”
“You’re royal, Your Highness.”
“I deserve it. Not because I’m royal—” She laughed. “But because I’m good. You wish audience with my brother.”
“I do, Your Highness. Can you arrange one?”
“I could, but I won’t. Riddle me this—why is Sir Gerrune a champion when you are not?”
I shrugged. “He was proclaimed so, Your Highness. Why I cannot even guess.”
She laughed, beautiful and mirthless. “My brother ordered it. You wear the queen’s favor, Sir Able; do you suppose his queen opens to every knave in the scullery?”
“Of course not, Your Highness. I would kill any man who defamed her in that fashion.”
“Then you’ll have to kill quite a lot of them. They tell my brother that and worse. He half believes them. Will he receive a knight who wears her favor, do you think?”
“Not often, Your Highness, though I try.”
She took my hand. “Well said. There are few at court who love me, Sir Able, and none who trust me. If I were to tell my brother he must speak to you, it would go ill with the case you come to plead. Besides, you’ve worn his queen’s favor in his great tournament. Will the Valfather help you?”
“I doubt it, Your Highness. I hope so.”
“So do I, you need it. Meantime, I’ll help if I can.” Her voice fell. “So will the Earl Marshal, if he dares. Think of us as Skai’s agents. It may comfort you.” She spoke to Wistan. “Your education proceeds apace.”
He knelt. “It does, Your Highness.”
“One may stab with a bodkin, Squire, or throw it. Let’s throw one. The dead walk at my command. So I told your master, and so it is. He warned me of the danger, it being a knight’s business to protect the fair.” She turned her head to let Wistan inspect her profile. “Do you think me fair?”
“Never have I seen a fairer lady, Your Highness.”
She laughed. “In that case Sir Able will protect me.” So saying, she turned her back, muttered something I could not hear, and mounting the dais again resumed her seat.
From the floor came the sound of a great door shut hard, and she smiled. “Perhaps you had news of our tournament last year, Squire?”
“I was here, Your Highness. I served Sir Garvaon. He shot, engaged with the halbert, and jousted too.”
“What of the melee? So redoubtable a knight would wish to take part in that, surely.”
“He did, Your Highness. But we couldn’t. It’s forty per side and the scroll was full.”
“Sir Able is more fortunate.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Do you know why?”
Wistan’s voice dropped to a whisper, “Because I signed it. For him, only I don’t want him to die. I know that’s what you think, but I don’t. You haven’t seen him fight.”
Morcaine turned to me. “This is your first tournament?” I confessed that it was.
“There are knights, Sir Able, who know they’ve no chance in the earlier events. Was this Sir Garvaon a good bowman?”
“A very good one, Your Highness.”
“Many are not, and do not wish to be humiliated. You knew something of humiliation when your string broke.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Beyond Morcaine, Baki peeped from behind a black velvet curtain. Her face was stricken.
“Suppose all three had missed the straw. Many would stand no chance against Sir Gerrune with poleaxes, and less against Sir Kei in jousting. Yet they would be ashamed to come and take no part. So they fight in the melee. It is the most dangerous of all, but luck plays a large part.”
“I understand, Your Highness.” As I spoke I heard footsteps, heavy and slow, and Gylf growled.
“Weapons are blunted, and no mace may be used. Still, a knight or two is killed each year. Perhaps you didn’t know.”
I said I had not, but that it did not matter.
“Now if I’ve timed our talk correctly...” She laughed. “Sir Lich died in the melee, but his name—ah, here he is.”
A trap in the floor rose. The knight who raised it and stepped forth was plainly dead, and had been dead for some time, his body stored in a dry place. There were maggots in his flesh, but they had not done great execution there.
‘Would you fight him? In defense of my fair person?”
“Certainly,” I said. There was a faint noise behind me, and Wistan tugged my sleeve.
“Bear in mind that you could not kill him.”
“If he’s a threat to Your Highness, I’ll do what I can.”
“He is none. Let’s let him rest.”
Perhaps she murmured some further word I failed to hear. The dead knight fell, his face striking the flagstones with such force that a maggot was thrown from it.
“Sir Able’s servants have fled—what of you, Squire? Has your education progressed sufficiently for this day?”
Wistan’s voice shook, but he answered that it had. The boy who had run from Huld’s ghost was held in check.
“What did you think of the messengers I sent for you and your master? Didn’t they set your teeth chattering, too?”
“No, Your Highness, they were Aelf, Sea Aelf, my master says. We saw Aelf in the mountains, Your Highness, and they helped us against the Angrborn.” He finished bravely enough. “They were fine archers, Your Highness.”
“You were unafraid?”
“Not—I was at first, Your Highness. A little.”
“Sir Lich’s worm affrighted you. I saw it. When next you meet my messengers, recall that they were made by worms. Sir Able, I asked you here so we might take counsel, knowing that my brother hates you for the queen’s favor and knowing too that he will love you no better than me if you come under my auspices. If you’ve the ear of the Valfather, will you beseech him to grant my brother issue?”
The change of topic discomfited me, but I said I would.
“Beseech the queen as well. You’ve her ear.” Morcaine had been bolt upright to that moment; she slumped almost as abruptly as the dead knight. “Our queen’s a strumpet, he thinks, and I a murderess who would slay my brother for his throne. She is not, Sir Able. Nor am I.”
I nodded and said, “I believe you, Your Highness.”
“I thank you. He may kill me, fancying he defends his life. He may kill her to get a queen who’ll bear him sons. She’s no friend of mine.” Morcaine straightened up, eyes blazing. “My brother is my brother, the playfellow of my childhood. I love few, but I love him. Do you understand?”
“I do, Your Highness. Better than you know.”
“You mean him no hurt?”
“I wish only to deliver the message of the one who sent me, Your Highness.”
“Who is...?”
“In Aelfrice, Your Highness.”
She sat in silence, her eyes upon my face. At last she said, “Will you deliver it in my hearing?”
“When His Majesty and I stand face-to-face, I know that message will fill my mind; and I’ll speak it whatever it may be. I don’t believe the presence of others—even yourself, Your Highness—will make a particle of difference.”
“In which case I must be present. I offer this, the only help I can give. If you wish it, I will ask a boon.”
I said, “I wish it, Your Highness.”
She shook her head. “Not that you be brought to him. Hear me out. I will ask to name one of our dinner guests tomorrow. I will do it in the queen’s presence, and if I know her she’ll ask to name a guest as well. If my brother has granted my boon, it will look ill for him to refuse hers. You wear her favor in the lists, so she’ll surely name you. My brother will have to receive you and speak graciously, though he will mean no word of it. Shall I do it?”
“I beg it, Your Highness. I’ll be forever indebted.”
“The odium will fall upon the queen.” Morcaine laughed. “You realize that?”
“I will divert it to myself, if that’s possible.”
I had three matches next day, and won them all. Wistan and I awaited an invitation to King Arnthor’s table after the third, but it never came. Long after sunset, I sent Wistan to the Earl Marshal to beg an interview. It was granted, and I told him I had spoken with Morcaine, and that Morcaine had promised to intercede for me with the king.
“I know.” The Earl Marshal made a tower of his fingers. “You understand, I hope, that his sister is no favorite.”
“I do, My Lord.”
“When first we spoke, you said you hesitated to presume upon Her Highness’s friendship. I thought it prudence.” He pinched his nose. “Harrumph! You still wish an audience?”
“Very much, My Lord.”
“You have distinguished yourself in the tournament as I advised, though apparently insufficiently.”
“I strive to do more, My Lord.”
“I wish you well in it. I’ve mentioned you twice to His Majesty. I believe I pledged myself to do it once? I have exceeded my pledge. He hasn’t asked that you be brought. Was it for your sake Her Highness asked the boon?”
“I think it likely, My Lord.”
The Earl Marshal sighed. “I’m keeping you standing, Sir Able, and you will be tired. I had hoped to finish this in a minute or two. Sit down. Would you like a little wine?”
I said I would, and motioned for Wistan to sit.
The Earl Marshal rang a handbell. “A boon was refused, Sir Able. Did you know it?”
I shook my head, feeling my heart sink.
“It’s the talk of the court. Her Highness, lightly but politely, begged a boon of her brother. It was assumed, by me and I believe by all who witnessed this sad affair, that it was to be some trivial license. It was refused, and she left the hall. I doubt she will tell you this. She was humiliated, you understand.”
“I do, My Lord.”
“He was shamed as well. Don’t imagine, Sir Able, that he doesn’t know it. Our queen—is Idnn really a queen now? You said so at our last meeting.” I began to explain but was interrupted by Payn.
“Wine,” the Earl Marshal told him. “Not that swill, our own from Brighthills. White or red, Sir Able?”
“As My Lord prefers.”
“White, then. Some hot smoked fish, I think. Sturgeon and whatever else you can find. Toast and herb butter. Your Queen Idnn is a friend of Her Majesty’s, Sir Able. Did you know it? Girls the same age, you know, both at court a good deal. These arms rocked Her Majesty in swaddling clothes, however much you may doubt it.”
The Earl Marshal’s voice fell. “One reason Lord Beel went, I think. The king sent him away to rob poor Gaynor of a friend, I’d say. I’d say it, but don’t you repeat it. And Beel took the job, in part, to get Idnn away from the king. It’s dangerous to be a friend of our queen’s these days. I should know, for I am one. Don’t repeat any of this.”
Wistan and I swore we would not.
“I’m the king’s as well, you understand. I’d bring them together, if I could. In time I will, never doubt it...”
“You’ve thought of something, My Lord?”
He shook his head, jowls wobbling. “A passing fancy, Sir Able. A mere fancy.”
He spoke to Wistan. “The great fault of intelligence, young man. Stupidity is at least as valuable. Intelligence causes us to overreach, much too often, and distracts us with—harrumph!—mere fanciful notions. Is Sir Able teaching you swordsmanship?
“Yes, My Lord. He says I have a knack for it, too.”
“That’s well—that’s very well. Strive to learn swordsmanship. But strive to learn stupidity in addition. The best knights are good swordsmen, but stupid men.”
“Including this one,” I declared, for I knew the Earl Marshal had hit on something but I had no idea what it was.
“Exactly. Exactly. You bear a message, but do not know it. A fine example. Why did the queen—?”
Payn returned at that moment, bearing a big silver tray laden with a carafe, cups, plates, and covered dishes.
“Noble! You’re putting up at an inn, Sir Able?”
“Yes, My Lord.”
“Good food?”
Wistan answered, “Tolerable, My Lord.”
“We shall do something about that, I hope. Not tonight, but soon. After the tournament.” (Payn had set a plate, a cup, and a towel dampened with hot water in front of each of us; as his master spoke, he filled our cups.) “Wouldn’t you like to be a guest here at the castle? It could be arranged, though you’d be just as comfortable with a friend of mine in the city. Just as comfortable, and a good deal safer.”
I said I hoped to leave soon after speaking to the king.
“Then I hope it for you. It’s winter just the same, and plans change. Payn, I will speak with Her Majesty and Her Highness after breakfast if you can arrange it. Separately, you understand. You will present my humble request for an interview to each tonight. My visit will be brief, the matter is important, and that is all you know.”
“Yes, Your Lordship. Shall I go now?”
The Earl Marshal nodded. “At once. Come back when you’ve spoken to both. As early as possible, but not both together, understand? Now be off Taste this wine, will you, Sir Able? That we’ve had of late has been abominable to my own palate, though Payn thinks it not so bad as I say.”
I sipped. “Excellent, My Lord.”
“Have they better in Aelfrice?”
I sipped again. “It would seem impossible, My Lord.”
He laughed, his belly shaking. “Not to be caught so easily as that. Well, well. Do you bear a message from a queen, Sir Able? Ah, a hit!”
“I think it better not to speak of that, My Lord.”
“Your face spoke for you. The other day this boy said he thought your message came from Queen Idnn. I’ve been thinking on it, you see. What message Idnn might send the king so secret that the bearer was not to know it, and so on. A bearer who had clearly been to Aelfrice, and likely more than once from what the boy tells me. These women! Always sending messages and making trouble. You agree, I hope?”
“Why no, My Lord.”
“You will when you’re my age. Her Highness is drunk much of the time. Did you know it?”
“No, My Lord. I did not.”
“She’s very good at hiding it. Seriously now, what do you think of my wine?”
“Wistan is a better judge than I, My Lord.”
He said, “Excellent, My Lord. I’ve never had better.”
“Noble. We’ve toast here,” he uncovered a dish, “and I believe this is cod, a favorite of mine. May I give you some of both?”
Wistan nodded eagerly. “With pleasure, My Lord.”
“Your master must be served first, Squire, even when the server is a peer of the realm.” The Earl Marshal heaped my plate with four sorts of smoked fish and added slices of bread that had been impaled on a fork and toasted before a fire, that being the custom of Thortower.
“Now then,” he said, when we had both been served. “We must strike a bargain, you and I, Sir Able. When you first came to me, I offered you good advice, for which I made no charge. In addition I’ve twice mentioned you to the king, speaking of your knowledge of recent events—incredible events, some of them—in the north. I did these things because I like you, and because I thought them my duty.”
I started to speak, but he stopped me with an upraised hand. “You think me angling for a bribe. So I am. But not gold. You have Redhall, one of the best manors in the north. I have four as good or better, and knights to serve me for them, and a castle. I say this not to boast, but to let you know that I am not much poorer than your Duke Marder. I may well be richer. You understand?”
I nodded. “Yes, My Lord.”
“It’s knowledge I seek. It’s information.” His voice fell. “I serve His Majesty, Sir Able. It’s no easy service, yet I do it to the best of my ability, year after year. I couldn’t stand against you with the sword.”
I did not contract him.
“Or even against your squire here, if you’ve trained him well. It is by thought that I serve my king. By the habit of reflection, and by knowledge.” He sipped wine. “You have knowledge I envy. I’ll have it from you. Do you understand? Leaving me richer, but you no poorer. I plan extraordinary steps tomorrow, steps that will bring you before the king without fail. Will you, in payment for this special favor I do you at the risk of my life, answer a few questions for me? Answering truly, upon your honor?”
He had not said that he would proffer no more help to me if I would not; yet it was in the air. I said, “There are a great many questions I can’t answer, My Lord.”
“Those you can. Upon your honor.”
“Yes, My Lord. As much as I know.”
“Noble.” He leaned back in his chair, smiling, and ate a slice of smoked pike on a slice of toast. Taking our cue from him, Wistan and I ate as well. Both the bread and the fish were very good.
“My first question, Sir Able. How many times have you visited Aelfrice?”
I tried to recall, counting the instances on my fingers. “Five, I think, My Lord. No, six.”
His eyes had grown wide while I counted. “Often enough to lose the reckoning?”
“Yes, My Lord.”
“Time runs more slowly there?”
“It does, My Lord.”
“Do you know the rule of it?” Seeing that I had not understood him, he added, “Suppose we went to Aelfrice for a day. There are days there?”
“Indeed, My Lord.”
“How many would have elapsed when we returned here?”
“I can’t say, My Lord. There is no fixed rule. A week, perhaps. Possibly a year.”
“I see.” He caressed his jowls. “I would not run too swift for reason, Sir Able. But I would run. If your honor does not forbid: is His Majesty’s sister known there?”
“I have no certain information, My Lord, but I believe she must be.”
“You never encountered her there.”
I fear I hesitated. “No, My Lord.”
“You did not?”
“No, My Lord.”
“Yet you came near it, I think. Isn’t that so?”
“I’m still a boy, My Lord. Only a boy, whatever you may think. You are a man of mature years and wisdom.”
“Tell me.”
I spoke then of Grengarm, without mentioning Eterne.
“The Aelf you speak of were bringing her from Aelfrice?”
“So it seemed, My Lord. I have no reason to doubt it.”
“You saved her? The dragon would have devoured her?”
“I believe so, My Lord.”
“Harrumph!” One fleshy hand wiped his face. “If she’s not your friend after that, she’s a most ungrateful jade.”
“I’ve no reason to think that, My Lord, and some to think otherwise.”
Wistan added, “We talked to her yesterday, My Lord, and she tried to help us. She’s—I’m afraid of her. I don’t like to say it, My Lord, but I am.”
A smile tugged at the Earl Marshal’s lips. “I believe you.”
“Even if she’s our friend. Sir Able’s friend, and my friend, too, because he’s my master. If she were our enemy, I’d be scared to death.”
“I can’t blame you, Squire. Let us retain her regard, all three of us. Our king loves and fears her, which alone would be reason enough.” The Earl Marshal turned back to me. “You do not know what message you bear, Sir Able?”
“As I have told you, My Lord.”
“So you did, and thought it unwise to reveal the sender. I ask now. That question and two more, and I’ll be satisfied for the present. Have you sworn secrecy on that point?”
“No, My Lord. I didn’t think you would believe me. You credited Grengarm—it was true, of course. All of it. You know something of the other worlds.”
“I do.” The Earl Marshal shifted his bulk in his chair and selected another piece of pike. “I have never visited them. As you have, I realize. I have spoken with the Aelf, however, more than once. I’ve done small favors and received small favors in return. Did Queen Disiri send you?”