Elder Isles 2: The Green Pearl (5 page)

BOOK: Elder Isles 2: The Green Pearl
3.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

The barber, now standing by his cart, doffed his hat and performed a somewhat obsequious salute. “Sir, allow me to state that I sell elixirs against your infirmities; I will barber your hair, shave your face, cut the most stubborn toenails, lance boils, clean ears, and draw blood. My fees are fair, but not mean; you will nevertheless consider the money well-spent.”

Sir Tristano mounted his horse. “I need none of your goods nor services; good day to you.”

“One moment, sir. May I ask where you are bound?”

“To Avallon in Dahaut.”

“You ride a long road. There is an inn at the village Toomish but I suggest that you ride on to Phaidig, where the Crown and Unicorn is justly famous for its mutton pies.”

“Thank you. I will bear your advice in mind.”

Three miles along the road Sir Tristano came to Toomish, and as Long Liam the Barber had suggested, the inn seemed to offer no great comfort. Although the afternoon was drawing to its close, Sir Tristano continued onward toward Phaidig.

The sun sank into a bank of clouds, and at the same time the road entered a heavy forest. Sir Tristano looked frowningly into the gloom. His choices were two: he could either ride on through the ominously dark woods or return to Toomish and its uninviting inn.

Sir Tristano made his choice. Touching up his horse to a canter. Sir Tristano entered the wood. After a half mile the horse stopped short and Sir Tristano saw that a barricade of poles had been placed across the road.

A voice spoke to his back: “Arms on high! Lest you wish an arrow in the back!”

Sir Tristano raised his arms in the air.

The voice said: “Do not turn, do not glance aside, and offer no tricks! My associate will approach you while I watch down the length of my arrow! Now then, Padraig, about your work! If he so much as quivers, cut him deep with your razor, I mean your knife.”

A rustle of careful steps sounded in the road; hands pulled at the thongs which tied the wallet to Sir Tristano’s belt.

Sir Tristano spoke: “Stop! You are taking the great green pearl!”

“Naturally!” said the voice from a point close behind. “That is the whole point of robbery: to acquire the victim’s valuables!”

“You now have all my wealth; may I depart?”

“By no means! We want your horse and saddlebags too!”

Sir Tristano, assured that a single footpad had waylaid him, clapped spurs to his horse, bent low, and rode pell-mell around the barricade. He looked over his shoulder to see a very tall man shrouded in a black cloak, with a hood concealing his face. A bow hung at his shoulder; he snatched it free and let fly an arrow, but the light was poor, the target fugitive and the range long; the arrow sang harmlessly away through the foliage.

Sir Tristano galloped his horse until he had won free of the woods, and the threat of pursuit was past. He rode with a light heart; in his wallet he had carried, along with the green pearl, only two or three small silver coins and half a dozen copper groats. For protection against just such events, he carried his gold in his slotted belt.

Full dusk drowned the landscape with purple-gray shadow before Sir Tristano came to Phaidig, and there he took lodging at the Crown and Unicorn, where he was nicely accommodated in a clean private chamber.

As Long Liam the Barber had attested, the mutton pie was of excellent quality, and Sir Tristano felt that he had dined well. Casually he inquired of the landlord: “What of robbers in these parts? Do they often molest travellers?”

The landlord looked over his shoulder, then said: “We hear reports of one who calls himself ‘Tall Toby’ and his favorite resort appears to be the woods between here and Toomish.”

“I will offer you a hint,” said Sir Tristano. “Are you acquainted with Long Liam the Barber?”

“Of course! He plies his trade everywhere about these parts. He also is a very tall man.”

“I will say no more,” said Sir Tristano. “Save only this: the correspondence goes somewhat deeper than mere stature, and the King’s Warden might well be interested in the news.”

V

LONG LIAM THE BARBER wended his way by lane and by road south into Dahaut, that he might ply his trade at the harvest festivals of the late summer. Arriving at the town Mildenberry, he did brisk trade and one afternoon was summoned to Fotes Sachant, the country house of Lord Imbold. A footman took him into a drawing room, where he learned that, owing to the illness of the valet, he would be required to shave Lord Imbold’s face and trim his mustache.

Long Liam performed his duties with adequate proficiency, and was duly complimented by Lord Imbold, who also admired the green pearl in the ring worn by Long Liam. So distinctive and remarkable did Lord Imbold think the gem that he asked Long Liam to put a price on the piece.

Long Liam thought to take advantage of the situation and quoted a large sum: “Your Lordship, this confection was given to me by my dying grandfather, who had it from the Sultan of Egypt. I could not bear to part with it for less than fifty gold crowns.”

Lord Imbold became indignant. “Do you take me for a fool?” He turned away and called to the footman. “Taube! Pay this fellow his fee and show him out.”

Long Liam was left alone while Taube went to fetch the coins. Exploring the room, he opened a cupboard and discovered a pair of gold candlesticks which inflamed his avarice to such an extent that he tucked them into his bag and closed up the cupboard.

Taube returned in time to notice Long Liam’s suspicious conduct, and went to look into the bag. In a panic Long Liam slashed out with his razor, and cut a deep gash into Taube’s neck, so that his head fell back over his shoulders.

Long Liam fled from the chamber but was taken, adjudged and led to the gallows.

A crippled ex-soldier named Manting for ten years had served the county as executioner. He did his work efficiently and expunged Long Liam’s life definitely enough, but in a style quite devoid of that extra element of surprise and poignancy, which distinguished the notable executioner from his staid colleague.

The perquisites of Manting’s position included the garments and ornaments found on the corpse, and Manting came into possession of a valuable green pearl ring which he was pleased to wear for his own.

Thereafter, all who watched Manting declared that they had never seen the executioner’s work done with more grace and attention to detail, so at times Manting and the condemned man seemed participants in a tragic drama which set every heart to throbbing; and at last, when the latch had been sprung, or the blow struck, or the torch tossed into the faggots, there was seldom a dry eye among the spectators.

Manting’s duties occasionally included a stint of torture, where again he proved himsef not only the adept at classical techniques, but deft and clever with his innovations.

Manting, however, while pursuing some theoretical concept, tended to overreach himself. One day his schedule included the execution of a young witch named Zanice, accused of drying the udders of her neighbor’s cow. Since an element of uncertainty entered the case, it was ordained that Zanice die by the garrote rather than by fire. Manting, however, wished to test a new and rather involved idea, and he used this opportunity to do so, and thereby aroused the fury of the sorcerer Qualmes, the lover of Zanice.

Qualmes took Manting deep into the Forest of Tantrevalles, along an obscure trail known as Ganion’s Way, and led him a few yards off the trail into a little glade.

Qualmes asked: “Manting, how do you like this place?”

Manting, still wondering as to the reason for the expedition, looked all about. “The air is fresh. The verdure is a welcome change from the dungeons. The flowers yonder add to the charm of the scene.”

Qualmes said: “It is fortunate that you are happy here, inasmuch as you will never leave this place.”

Manting smilingly shook his head. “Impossible! Today I find myself at leisure, and this little outing is truly pleasant, but tomorrow I must conduct two hangings, a strappado and a flogging.”

“You are relieved of all such duties, now and forever. Your treatment of Zanice has aroused my deep emotion, and you must pay the penalty of your cruelty. Find yourself a pleasant place to recline, and choose a comfortable position, for I am imposing a spell of stasis upon you, and you will never move again.”

Manting protested for several minutes, and Qualmes listened with a smile on his face. “Tell me, Manting, have any of your victims made similar protests to you?”

“Now that I think of it: yes.”

“And what would be your response?”

“I always replied that, by the very nature of things, I was the instrument, not of mercy, but of doom. Here, of course, the situation is different. You are at once the adjudicator, as well as the executioner of the judgement, and so you are both able and qualified to consider my petition for mercy, or even outright pardon.”

“The petition is denied. Recline, if you will; I cannot chop logic with you all day.”

Manting at last was forced to recline on the turf, after which Qualmes worked his spell of paralysis and went his way.

Manting lay helpless day and night, week after week, month after month, while weasels and rats gnawed at his hands and feet, and hornets made their lodges in his flesh, until nothing remained but bones and the glowing green pearl, and even these were gradually covered under the mold.

Chapter 2

EIGHT KINGS RULED the realms of the Elder Isles. The least of these was Gax, nominal King of North Ulfland, whose decrees were heeded only within the walls of Xounges. In contrast, King Casmir of Lyonesse and King Audry of Oahaut both ruled wide lands and commanded strong armies. King Aillas, whose possessions included three islands: Troicinet, Dascinet and Scola, as well as South Ulfland, guarded his communications through the power of a strong navy.

The other four kings varied as greatly. Mad King Deul of Pomperol had been succeeded by his son, the eminently sane King Kestrel. The ancient Kingdom of Caduz had been absorbed by Lyonesse, but Blaloc, under the rule of bibulous King Milo, retained its independence. Milo had contrived a wonderful ruse, which never failed in its purpose. When envoys from Lyonesse or Dahaut came to enlist Milo’s support, he seated them at his table and poured them full of wine, while musicians played jigs and quicksteps, so that the envoys presently forgot their business and cavorted in drunken abandon alongside King Milo.

Godelia and its boisterous population were in some degree controlled by King Dartweg. The Ska elected their “First Among the First” at ten-year intervals; the current “First” was the strong and able Sarquin.

The eight kings differed in almost every characteristic. King Kestrel of Pomperol and King Aillas of Troicinet were both earnest young men, brave and honorable, but where Kestrel was humorless and diffident, Aillas showed an imaginative flair which sometimes perturbed more settled personalities.

The courts of the eight kings were no less disparate. King Audry spent lavishly upon vanity and pleasure, and the splendor of his court at Falu Ffail was the stuff of legend. King Aillas used his revenues to build ships for his navy, while King Casmir spent large sums upon espionage and intrigue. His spies were active everywhere, and especially in Dahaut, where they monitored King Audry’s every sneeze.

Casmir found information from Troicinet more difficult to secure. He had managed to suborn certain high officials, who transmitted their reports by carrier pigeon, but he relied most heavily upon the master spy “Valdez,” whose information was uncannily accurate.

Valdez reported at intervals of about six weeks. Casmir, shrouded under a hooded gray cloak, went to a storeroom at the back of a wine-merchant’s shop, where presently he was joined by a man who might well have been the wine merchant: a person of no great distinction, stocky of physique, clean-shaven, economical of speech, with neat regular features and cold gray eyes.

From Valdez, Casmir learned of four new warships on the ways at the Tumbling River shipyard, two miles north of Domreis. Despite strict security, Valdez was able to report that these ships were light fast feluccas, with catapults hurling iron arrows a hundred yards with sufficient force to open up the hull of any ordinary vessel. These new ships were intended specifically to defeat the long-boats of the Ska and thus hold open the sea-lanes between Troicinet and South Ulfland.

At the moment Troicinet and Lyonesse kept an uneasy peace, but only after an accommodation whereby Casmir undertook to build no warships which might challenge Troice control of the sea. Aillas had put his case to Casmir in these terms: “Your armies, with your Four hundred knights and multitude of soldiers, protect you well against our attack. If Lyonesse could bring these troops to Dascinet or Troicinet. we would know mortal danger! Lyonesse cannot be allowed the means to land armies on our soil.” Casmir yielded the point without display of emotion, though inwardly he seethed with rage, and the violent dislike he felt for Aillas exacerbated the situation. Valdez, before his departure, remarked that he had recently recruited new and highly placed sources of information.

“Well done!” said Casmir. “This is the efficient work which we have come to expect from you.”

Valdez turned toward the door, where he paused and seemed about to speak, but once again turned away.

Casmir had noticed the hesitation. “Wait! What troubles your mind?”

“No great problem, though I can conceive of possible inconvenience.”

“How so?”

“I am aware that you have informants in Troicinet other than myself, and I suspect that at least one of these is highly placed. From your point of view, this is a happy situation. Still, as mentioned, I have made contact with a person of high degree who may well cooperate with me, although at the moment he is as timid as a bird. I can work less tentatively and with less chance of cross-purposes if I know the identities of your other informants.”

“The point is well taken,” said Casmir. He reflected a moment, then uttered a small harsh chuckle. “You would be surprised to learn the elevation at which my ears listen! But it is probably better to keep you and these other sources separate. My reasons are not abstract. In case one is discovered and put to the question, the other is safe.”

Other books

Lemons 03 Stroke of Genius by Grant Fieldgrove
A Finely Knit Murder by Sally Goldenbaum
Heart of Steele by Brad Strickland, Thomas E. Fuller
How Miss West Was Won by Lexie Clark
Betrothed by Lori Snow