The Wizard

Chapter 6. Utgard!

The wall and towers of Utgard could be seen for a full day’s ride before they reached them, and neither was as Toug had expected. The base of the wall was a range of mountains, or at least seemed so, low mountains but steep. From it rose a second wall of fitted stones, in which the stones were larger than cottages. Atop that rose a palisade of trunks so great as to make the stones look small. The towers beyond the wall were blue with distance—and immense, so wide they seemed squat, and often topped by spidery scaffolding, half walled. The men on them looked as small as ants; but when Laemphalt had trotted another league, Toug realized they were not human beings but giants.

“No wonder our king wants to make friends with them,” he told Laemphalt. “We could never beat them, not in a thousand years, or even stop them from doing anything.”

Svon turned in his saddle. “If you can’t talk like a man, be quiet.”

Toug nodded. “I’m sorry, Sir Svon. It slipped out.”

“I killed one of those creatures a few days ago, and I’d like to make it a score.”

At the head of their column, Master Crol sounded a trumpet and shouted, “We come in peace!” Privately, Toug hoped they would be received the same way.

The plain on which they had heard so many mysterious sounds and seen ghostly figures at dawn was given over to farms here, for the most part; and poor farms they seemed to Toug, although his father’s fields had been scarcely fertile enough to feed his family. There were giants in these fields; but the reapers were human slaves, and mostly women.

“Look at that fellow.” Svon pointed. “He doesn’t know what he’s about.”

Toug touched his heels to Laemphalt until he and Svon rode side by side. “He’s blind, Sir Svon.”

“He is? How can you tell from here?”

“He’s a man. See his beard?”

“Of course. What does that have to do with it?”

“The giants blind their men slaves,” Toug explained. “Berthold told me. Didn’t you see him?”

“Yes, and he was blind. But he’s old. I thought...”

“They burned his eyes out. They do it to all the men.”

Something frightening came into Svon’s face.

Toug gulped. “They’ve got my sister. I told you.”

“Yes. But your sister won’t have been blinded, will she? The women at the farm were all right.”

“They weren’t all right, they just weren’t blind. We’re supposed to free Sir Able’s servant, and find his horses and baggage, and send them to him. My sister was with Sir Able’s servant, and he will have been blinded by now.”

“It may be impossible. I hope it isn’t, but it may be.”

“Sir Able... He knew about these things, Sir Svon.”

Reluctantly, Svon nodded.

“He knew you could do it. I told Lady Idnn after the battle, and maybe I—”

Svon had raised a hand for silence. “You told Lady Idnn? Did she ask about me?”

Toug nodded. “She wanted to know a lot about you. She likes you, Sir Svon.”

“We’ll have no more such talk as that!”

“No, sir. I’m sorry, Sir Svon.”

“I’d be a landless man, if it weren’t for her father’s generosity. As it is, I own a manor I’ve never seen. She’s the daughter of a baron, and you might circle Celidon without finding a fairer woman. She’ll wed the heir to a dukedom.”

“There can’t be many of those around here,” Toug said practically.

“Her father, and all of us, will return to the king when we’ve delivered his gifts, I’m sure.”

Toug nodded, hoping Svon was correct.

“She was interested in me? She asked about me?”

Toug nodded. “She likes you, Sir Svon. I know what you said, but she does.”

“An unproven knight.”

“Can I say something? You won’t get mad?”

Svon’s smile was grim. “Try it, and we’ll see.”

“When Lady Idnn looks at you, she sees what the rest of us see, not what you see when you think about yourself.”

“Which is?”

“A noble knight—one whose father’s a nobleman. His mother was noble, too. A handsome knight with blue eyes and yellow hair and the kind of face women like.”

“A knight dependent on her father’s pity.”

“Nobles reward knights,” Toug insisted. “That’s what they’re for. You earned that manor fighting giants. You say you’re a untried knight, I guess because you’ve never fought another knight. But which is harder, fighting another knight or fighting a giant? I know which one scares me most.”

Svon smiled. “My nose buttresses your argument. Though I was no knight when you broke it, I admit.”

Up ahead, Angrborn had blocked the head of the column, where Beel and Idnn rode. They had spears taller than many a tree, bare bellies like hairy sails, and beards as long as Toug was tall.

Garvaon rode back to join Svon and Toug. “The king’s guards, did you hear that? No armor, and turn as quick as four yoke and a plow. His Lordship wants them to take us to their king. They want to kill us and take the mules. Or so they say. I’d like to see them try.”

A richly dressed man who had followed Garvaon exclaimed, “Utgard! That’s Utgard up there. I’ve heard about it all my life, but I no more expected to set eyes on it than the bottom of the sea. I’m going to make sketches.”

“It’s big all right,” Garvaon conceded.

“Big, and full of Frost Giants. Seriously, sir knight, if you were to kill those up ahead, a hundred more would be on us before we’d gone half a league.”

Svon said, “You’re right, of course. Have we met?”

“Only briefly, I’m afraid. I know you’ve been meeting a great many people. I’m Master Papounce.”

They shook hands, Svon stiffly. “Toug is my squire—”

Like an echo, someone farther ahead called, “Toug!”

“The only retinue I possess, at present.”

Toug shook hands too, and Papounce said, “You’ve a good, strong grip. Going to be a knight yourself before long.”

“I hardly know how to be a squire yet.”

Garvaon edged his mount near enough to touch Toug’s shoulder, a quick rough slap. “Somebody wants you.”

“Here’s a serving girl to fetch you, I believe,” Svon added as one of Idnn’s maids clattered up on a coarse pony that had begun the trip in the baggage train.

The maid did her best to curtsy in the saddle. “It’s Lady Idnn, Sir Svon. I mean, not her shouting, but it’s her that wants him, sir, and—and—oh, I don’t know. But Lady Idnn says won’t you lend him, I don’t know what for.”

“In which case we must find out. Come along, Squire.”

Toug sensed that Svon was trying to sound grim, but that the prospect of conversation with Idnn made it difficult.

The king’s guards had been joined by two more by the time Toug and Svon reached the front of the column. One of the newcomers overshadowed Beel and Idnn like a beetling cliff. “Anything you say must be heard by us,” he rumbled.

“I can’t stop you from listening,” Beel told him, “but it is a thing no gentleman would do.”

The Angrborn said nothing, frowning and leaning on a spear longer than a lance.

“King Gilling wants my daughter’s cat,” Beel told Svon. He rolled his eyes to indicate that there was no accounting for the whims of kings. “The cat Sir Able gave her.”

Mani mewed loudly to indicate the cat intended.

“I don’t know why he wants it,” Beel continued, “or how he came to hear of it. But that’s what he says, or rather, it’s what this officer of his says he says.”

The looming Angrborn took one hand from the shaft of his huge spear. “Hand it over!”

Addressing Toug, Idnn said, “He won’t promise to give Mani back, or even promise not to hurt him.”

The giant reached for Mani, and Svon’s sword cleared the scabbard.

“Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” Beel raised both hands. “This is a diplomatic mission. You, sir—I am Lord Beel, a baron of King Arnthor’s realm. May I ask your name?”

“Thrym.” The hand had been withdrawn.

“We need to explain to these men,” Beel indicated Svon and Toug, “what they’re to do—what Toug’s to do, and why he’s to do it. Then we’ll give you the cat, and you can take it to King Gilling, having accomplished your errand.”

He wheeled his mount to speak to Toug and Svon. “Under these circumstances, my daughter is reluctant to hand her pet over. Understandably, as I’m sure you’ll agree. She wanted to take it to His Majesty herself, and Thrym agreed. But she has been traveling, as we all have. I’d greatly prefer she not appear at court until she’s bathed and dressed. Let her appearance bring credit to our nation, not disrepute.”

“She could never bring disrepute,” Svon declared.

“I said,” Idnn put in, “that in that case King Gilling could wait until we were to be received. We would put a gold collar and some nice perfume on Mani—”

Mani sneezed.

“And I would exhibit him to King Gilling. This—this great lump of a royal officer wouldn’t hear of it.”

“His instructions are to bring Mani to his king at once,” Beel said mildly. “Yes! And leave us out here cooling our heels.”

Beel spoke to Svon. “Thrym here would have allowed Idnn to carry Mani—that’s her cat—to the king. I wouldn’t permit it. I suggested that one of her maids do it.”

Idnn snapped, “Absolutely not!”

Beel nodded. “Now that I’ve given the matter more consideration, I’m inclined to agree. At any rate, Squire Toug is the only substitute Idnn will accept. I described Toug to Thrym, and Thrym indicated that he might accept him, too.” Beel turned to the giant. “Here he is. He’s Sir Svon’s squire, as I told you. Would he be acceptable?”

“If he don’t piss himself.”

“You don’t have to go,” Svon told Toug. “I won’t order you to.”

Beel said, “You’ll permit it? If he goes willingly?”

“No horse,” Thrym rumbled. “I walk. The king walks. You can walk too.”

Toug nodded and dismounted.

Idnn held out Mani. “This is very brave of you.”

Toug took him, putting him on his shoulder. “Would Sir Svon have done it?”

Svon said, “In an instant.”

“Of course you would.” Idnn smiled. “But I won’t allow it. Mani doesn’t know you well at all. Toug and I are the only people here Mani knows and likes, and it’s going to be frightening enough for him even with a friend present. He’s a big cat and a strong one. What if he were to scratch King Gilling’s face? What would become of our diplomacy then?”

“Would Sir Garvaon?” Toug asked her.

She seemed surprised by the question; but after a moment she said, “Yes. Yes, I’m sure he would, if I asked him.”

“So am I,” Toug told her. “What about Sir Able? Would he go?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“Then so will I.” Toug looked at the gigantic Thrym, twice the height of the tallest man. “Shouldn’t we start? We’re keeping your king waiting.”

Their walk across the plain consumed hours. The wind snatched dust and snow from the fields, and the green cloak Lady Idnn had given Toug seemed powerless to keep it out. Mani rode his windward shoulder and pressed a warm and furry side against his ear, which was a great comfort; but even Mani trembled in that wind.

With every step (and the steps came very fast for league after league, since Toug had to trot to keep up) the lonely train of horses and mules behind them shrank. A huddle of clumsy houses bigger than barns appeared before the monstrous wall; beyond these houses yawned a gate like the mouth of a colossal face, one to which a portcullis of close-set bars thicker than old trees gave teeth.

“Take a good look,” Thrym rumbled.

“I am,” Toug told him. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“’Cause you may not see much after.” Thrym’s laughter was deeper than the notes of a kettledrum, and so cruel Toug shuddered. “We don’t see your kind with eyes here. Your kind don’t see us much, neither.”

“You blind your slaves.” Toug swallowed. “I talked to one a little. That’s what he said, and he was blind.”

“The men we do.”

“But I’m not a slave, yours or anyone’s. I’m Sir Svon’s squire. Mani’s not a slave either. He’s Lady Idnn’s cat.”

“Animals we don’t,” Thrym conceded; and Toug felt Mani relax a trifle.

There was a dry ditch before the wall, a deep ditch so wide that it seemed a natural chasm, with tumbled boulders in its black depths. Over it arched a bridge of massive timbers dark with tar; it creaked and cracked beneath Thrym’s weight.

“Don’t worry about that,” Thrym rumbled. “We’re good bridge builders. We have to be. You worry about me. What’s to keep me from taking the cat, stepping on you, and kicking your body into the moat?”

“Nothing, sir. Only I hope you won’t.”

“What about that toy sword you got?” Thrym halted to let Toug catch up and pointed to Sword Breaker. “You stop me with that?”

“No, sir.”

“By Ymir’s blood, you’ve got that right. Let’s see it.”

Toug drew Sword Breaker and handed it to Thrym, hilt first as courtesy demanded.

“Not even sharp.”

“No, sir,” Toug said again. “Sir Svon won’t let me have a sharp one because he’s afraid I might cut myself. But I’m his squire, and a squire ought to have a sword.”

Thrym shook with laughter.

The greatest of all the towers was reached by steps so high that Thrym carried Toug up them, gripping the back of the stout homespun shirt his mother had sewn for him and dangling him like a doll while he clutched poor Mani, and Mani clutched him with every claw.

“We’re ready to fight you. See?” Thrym set Toug down and gestured toward the steps they had just surmounted. “How’re your men going to do on those, huh? Need a ladder or something. We’ll come down them handy enough, and you ain’t going to like what we do.”

Thinking that he did not like what the Angrborn did at any time, Toug said, “I certainly wouldn’t want to fight you on these, sir.”

“Huh. How about that bridge we crossed over?”

“Nor there,” Toug conceded.

“Built to burn, and fires ready laid to start it. Soon as you get on we throw a torch. Think you’ll get off quick?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You won’t. You little hotlanders breed like red ants, so there’ll be a thousand more pushing to get on from behind. The bridge’ll burn, and you with it.”

“We haven’t come to attack you, sir,” Toug said humbly, “but to make peace, if we can.”

“You tell King Gilling.”

The reeking throne room was every bit as huge as Toug had expected; yet its vaulted stone ceiling seemed low for the hundreds of giants who filled it with an indescribable din of laughter and shouts, stamping, and rattling weapons.

“That’s the king over there.” Thrym pointed to the far end of the immense room, where the crowd was thickest. “I’m goin’ to get close as I can. You follow after, and mind you don’t lose the cat.”

Toug did his best, dodging giants.

“Wait!” Mani whispered in his ear. “What does he want with me?”

“I have no idea,” Toug muttered. “I thought you knew.”

“All cats are brave.”

Toug ducked between the legs of one of the Angrborn. “And I am counted brave even among cats. Still...” Mani was interrupted by a roar. “Thrym!”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

“Where is it, Thrym?” The question was deafening. “Didn’t you get it?”

One of Thrym’s hands closed on Toug, and he was lifted high into the air. Thrym’s rumble sounded less impressive here. “I got it, Your Majesty.”

Over the heads of twenty or thirty giants, Toug could see—on a high throne of gold on a dais so lofty that the hooked spikes of his iron crown seemed almost to scrape the vault—a king so large and so fat that the Angrborn about him, monstrous though they were, looked childlike.

“Bring it here, Thrym.” The king’s voice was neither particularly deep nor particularly high; what it was, was loud, so loud that it seemed a storm spoke. “What’s that holding it?”

“He’s the cat’s servant, may’t please Your Majesty. The hotlanders thought it oughta have somebody to look after it, somebody it knows. That sounded right to me.”

“Fetch my table!”

A lean Angrborn standing beside the dais thumped the floor with a golden staff, a dull noise that made Toug think of Death knocking at a door. “The king’s table!”

Four blind men carried each leg. They were guided by a woman who steered them by voice and touch. Briefly her eyes met Toug’s—at once, she looked away.

“Now then,” the king said when Toug had been lifted onto the table. “You must tell me about this magical cat, little fellow. Can he talk?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Toug said, and felt Mani’s claws sink into his shoulder.

“Then make him talk to me.”

Mani shook his head, his whiskers brushing Toug’s cheek. “I can’t, Your Majesty,” Toug said. “No one can make a cat do anything.” The king laughed, his belly an earthquake, and the other Angrborn joined in his laughter.

“If he likes you,” Toug explained, “he may talk to you. But I’m sure he’ll never talk with so many people present. That isn’t his way.”

The king leaned toward him, his round, sweating face like a millstone. “Is he your cat?”

“He’s Lady Idnn’s cat, Your Majesty. She wanted to bring him herself, but her father wouldn’t let her.” Toug took a deep breath. “He didn’t think she was dressed well enough for court, Your Majesty. I’m not either. I know that. But with me, we hoped it wouldn’t matter as much.”

King Gilling was silent a moment, and then he said, “A nice tunic. So you wouldn’t be ashamed to appear before me.”

Toug nodded. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

The king turned to the Angrborn with the gold staff. “A nice tunic, Thiazi. One of the slave women can run him up one. A gold chain, if you’ve got one small enough. Whatever else seems good to you.”

Thiazi bowed. “Your Majesty’s wish is my only will.”

Toug ventured to say, “Lord Beel has beautiful presents for you, Your Majesty. He’s waiting outside the wall. All you have to do is let him in, and he’ll give them to you.”

“Waiting with this Lady Idnn?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. And Sir Svon—that’s my master—and a lot of other people.”

“I wish to speak to this Lady Idnn. If her husband won’t let her see me, her husband must be dealt with, Cat.”

“My name’s Toug, sir, and his name’s Mani.” Toug spoke softly in the hope of giving no offense. “And Lord Beel’s not her husband, he’s her father. Lady Beel’s dead, I think. And I’m sure he’ll let you see her. See Lady Idnn, I mean, when she’s dressed up and everything.”

“That is well.” The king smiled. “We need to ask her where she got this cat, don’t we, Thiazi?”

Thiazi bowed. “Indeed, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, I can tell you that,” Toug said. “She got him from Sir Able. He used to be Sir Able’s cat, and Sir Able gave him to her.”