The Wizard (8 page)

that was another puzzle. Large and strong as the Angrborn were, they might have lived anywhere. Why did they choose to live here? Had the gods of Skai indeed driven the Giants of Winter and Old Night from the sun? Or had those Giants chosen their abode? Knights like Svon and Garvaon and Woddet had never driven the Angrborn north of the mountains, surely. The snarling hound and the angry boar were nearer now, and I had reached a strip of moonlit water. Somewhere along here, Gylf would drive the boar into the shallows, then out again onto the other bank, if the boar still lived. If Gylf had dodged the boar's slashing tusks up to that point. An arrow here might end the hunt, or as good as end it. I nocked a shaft and relaxed for a second or two to look up at the moon. It was beginning to snow, even while the moon still shone, so that the silver light seemed wrapped in mist, beautiful and threatening. We had traveled slowly, and would travel slower still tomorrow; and though we had not been comfortable, we would be less comfortable still. Who would want to live here? The boar, obviously. But I knew the boar must die. There would be meat tomorrow. Meat not only for Gylf and me, but for Bold Berthold, Gerda, and Uns. Meat even for the hulking young man who had crept so near our camp. The young man (call him by his name, I told myself, he has one) his suffering mother had named Heimir in the hope endearing him to the Angrborn, the young man who lay starving in his cave in the hills. A man of his size, a man who might weigh half as much as Cloud, would require a lot of food, food difficult to find in this barren land. True Angrborn were even larger and could eat only because slaves worked their farms. Dog and boar were nearer now; I heard saplings break, an angry pop-pop-pop my ears accepted as a single sound. Quite suddenly it came to me that King Arnthor would have been wiser to send the Angrborn bread and cheese. Then that Lord Beel's embassy was doomed, that the Angrborn could never stop raiding the south for slaves because the Angrborn would starve without slavesthat no Angrborn could grow or kill enough for himself, a wife, and a child or two. They were too big and needed too much. One never saw their wives anyway. The boar broke cover and the arrow went back to my ear and sped away. The boar, black as tar in the moonlight, snapped at its shoulder, splashed through the shallows to midchannel, turned to defy Gylf, fell to its knees, and rolled on its side. The water carried its body a step or two from the point at which it had died, but no farther. Gylf emerged from dark undergrowth. "Good shot!" "Thanks." I unstrung my bow and slung it behind me. "Did he hurt you?" "Never touched me." Gylf waded into the water to drink. Skinning and gutting the boar took an hour or so. I cut off the head and forelegs (one of which Gylf claimed) and got the rest up on my shoulder. Our return was slower than our departure had been, but the distance was not great. "Talking." In order to speak, Gylf had let the foreleg fall. Instinctively, he put a paw on it. "Hear 'em?" I shook my head. "Don't know her." He picked up the foreleg and trotted forward. She rose as Gylf approached the fire, and for a moment I felt she would never stop risingtousled blond hair that hung to her shoulders, a lean face that seemed all jaw and eyes, a neck as thick as my thigh, wide sloped shoulders and high breasts half hidden by a scrap of hide. Arms thick and freckled, fingers tipped with claws. Long waist, broad hips under a ragged skirt, and massive legs with knees so skinned and bony that I noticed them even by firelight. "Hello," she said in a voice deeper than a man's. "Are you Sir Able? Hello. I'm Hela, her girl. She said it would be all right. Is that food?" Gerda stood too, her head below her daughter's waist. "You're not mad are you, sir? II shouldn't of, I know. Only sheshe's still. . ." "Your child." "Yes. Yes, sir. My baby, sir." This last was said without a hint of irony. Uns sat up and goggled at Hela. Berthold had clambered to his feet and was groping with both hands. "Hela? Hela?" Hela took a step backward, although she was a full three heads the taller. "Bert won't harm a hair of you," Gerda told her softly. "Hela." A groping hand found her. "I'm your father, Hela. Your foster father. Didn't Gerda never speak of me? Bold Berthold?" I laid the boar's body on the ground beside the fire. "You were gone 'fore I got to Bymir's, and Bold Berthold that was, was gone too. Blind Berthold now. It's what they did. But the same that was, Hela. The same as loved your ma long ago." She crouched and embraced him. "Ah, Hela," Berthold said softly. "Ah! Ah, Hela!" There was no tune to these words, yet they were music. "Maught us cook a bit a' dat, sar?" Uns was at my side, holding green sticks. "I'd think you'd want to go back to sleep." "I'se main hungert, sar." When I hesitated, he added, "Won't take but wat ya let me." "Take all you want. Will you cook some for Berthold?" "Yessar. Glad ta. Fer her, ta, sar,'n she'll want a sight a' feedin'." "She will, I'm sure. But she can cook it for herself. If she is to eat with us she must work with us, and it will be better if we make that clear from the start." "Fer ya, ter, sar. Be a honor fer me, sar." "If Hela can cook her own meat, so can I." I unslung my bow, sat down before the fire, and accepted a stick. "Cut me some of that pork, will you?" "Yessar. Ain't slept, has ya, sar?" "No, and I should. I will when I've eaten something." Yet when Uns, Berthold, and Gerda slept once more, and even Gylf slept, lying upon his side and snoring, and of all those with me only new-come Hela remained awake, squatting at the fire with a piece of pork twice the size of my fist on her stick, I sat up with her, questioning her now and again, and often falling silent to consider her replies. "I'm not a maid of my tongue," she said, "to prattle pretty words and please men's ears. If I were, I'd soon be snug in a house, with hags and slaves like this fresh father to wait on me, and an ox for supper when I wished it." She laughed, and I saw that her teeth were twice the size of mine. "But I'm as you see. As you hear, sir knight. What Frost Giant would be hot to take me to wife? They like their own, stealing into their beds from Jotunhome. Else southern maids of poppet size, with clever little hands and honeyed lips. 'Oh, oh, you are so great! Ravish me!' So I sought men my size in the Mountains of the Mice, and found them, too, served as maid serves man, and was paid in blows." "Did they drive you out?" I asked her. "Hunted me, rather. You noted my knife?" I nodded. "He did not." Hela laughed loud and deep. "In the south, they say, there are some called men who pale at sight of naked steel. Fops and fools! 'Tis not that knife that takes life." "How old are you, Hela?" "Sage enough to know a cat from a catamite. Are you troubled that I've come running to Mother, sir knight?" She took her meat off the stick, sampled it, wiped her mouth on her arm, and licked her fingers. "No. You were hungry. No doubt I'd do the same if I had a mother to run to." "We watch the War Way, Heimir and I." Hela returned her stick and the gobbet of meat it held again back to the fire. "Some give us something, sometimes." "You did not beg of me, when I came up it." "Didn't see you, sir. How many horses?" "Pack horses, you mean? I had none." "What would you have given us, sir knight?" She smiled; although it was not a pleasant smile, I sensed that it was as pleasant as she could make it. "Not even beggars work for nothing." "Nothing is what I would have given you. Would you have robbed me?" "A knight? With horse and sword?" She laughed again. "No, not I! Nor Heimir. Small stomach he'd have for such a fight! It's reavers returning we like best, sir knight, with sulking slaves tied tight as sausages, and heifers and horses to drive before them." Hela's voice rose to a whine. "Bless you, true Angrborn all! Blessed be Angr, true mother who bore you! Many a smile you'd have from your mother, for many a morsel you've won down the War Way. One morsel for me from you, great men? A bit for my brother? No more than you'd lose in a tooth, my masters." High already, her voice rose again. "Morsel for me! Bread for my brother! Charity for children's the kindness of heroes! So we bawl, and follow to steal if they let us." She shook her head. I said, "That's no life for a girl. Not even for one as big as you are, though there are hundreds of beggar maids in Kingsdoom from what I've been told. What are you going to do now, once you've eaten?" "Follow you, sir knight, as long as you'll feed Momma and me. Dig for my dinner, if it's digging you want." She shook her head again, more vehemently, and I turned mine to look behind me. Gylf woke with a low growl. "I can milk and butcher and churn," she said quickly, "and bear more than your mule. Try me. And ifyou've no wench with you? Don't you shiver, sleeping?" Thanks to Cloud, my inner eye glimpsed a shadowy figure larger than a man with a rope between its hands. From the night surrounding our little clearing, Uri's laughter showered us with steel bells. "Here is a hot wench if he wants one, one who will not take the whole blanket." "What's this!" Hela stared into the darkness. "Your victim's slave." Uri stepped into the firelight. "Lord, there is a great lout behind you" "With a rope, thinking to strangle me." I nodded. "His sister's been my protector twice." Hela turned from Uri to stare at me. "You knew he was there? By Ymir!" "So did Gylf. I doubt that he'd have gotten his rope around my neck." "Nay, nor wished to. What's this?" "An Aelfmaiden." "Are they all red?" Uri said, "None but the best, and we like it better than pink with brown blotches." "Call your brother," I told Hela. "He's probably as hungry as you were." She rose and held up her stick, with its gobbet of pork smoking and sizzling. "Heimir! This's for you!" He was larger even than she, with shoulders that made me think of Org, and so thin every rib showed. His massive jaw, broad nose, and owl eyes promised brutal stupidity. I motioned for him to sit. "Eat something. Gerda will be glad to see you." Hela offered her stick. He took it, stared at the meat, and at last pulled it off and ate. "You told me why you left the mountains," I said to Hela, "but not why your brother did." "He'd left our old home with me, sir knight. He left our new one to be with me. You think him thick." I said nothing. "It's solemn truth he's slow of speech. Slower than I, though I'm slow enough for two most times." Uri said, "I would call you a babbler, rather." "You're the knight's slave? Slaves need a smoother tongue, or soon come to grief." Uri turned to me. "Have you ever had to feed me?" "No," I said. "Or pay me?" "No." "Yet we have served you faithfully? Baki and I?" "You're wondering how much she told me. Very little." "Is she dead?" "No," I said again. "What happened?" "We talked about you." I measured my words. "Why you hadn't told me her back was broken and asked me to help her." Hela giggled, a sound like a small avalanche. "That silenced her, sir knight. Black thoughts to raze her red face. Tell me true, are they underground? It's what Momma's gossips told me." "They're from the world under ours. I wouldn't call it underground." "Why doesn't she go there?" "Would you," Uri asked, "if you could mount to Elysion?" Hela's hard face looked troubled. "What's that?" "Where the Most High God reigns." Uri rose. "You want me to retire to Aelfrice. Very well, I will go. But Lord, if you must feed this gross slattern" "I want you to go, too," I said to Uri, "but not back to Aelfrice. I want you to go to Utgard. Toug should be there by now, and so should your sister. Bring me word of them." "I will try." Uri shot Hela a parting glance. "She and the lout will beggar you in a week." "I hope to beggar myself. Go." Uri vanished into the night. I took the meat from my own stick and began to eat it. Hela asked if she might have another piece, and I nodded. When she had finished cutting it, she said, "You're going to the mountains?" "Yes. To take my stand at a pass. It's the sentence Duke Marder passed on me, and I must do it before seeking the woman I love." "They love us not, that live there." I swallowed the last bite of pork and lay down, wrapping my cloak around me. "They don't like me either. We'll face them together, if you're willing." For the first time Heimir spoke, addressing his sister. "Sleep. I watch."

CHAPTER EIGHT MANI'S OWNERS

Two slave women visited Toug in the turret room to which the king had sent him, one carrying a heavy gold chain and the other a tunic of black batswing. Both knew Ulfa. "She's my sister," Toug explained. "I'm hoping the king will let me take her home. The man who came with her, too." "Pouk," the taller of the women said. "Yes, Pouk. He's Sir Able's servant, and Sir Able would like him back. The king must have a lot." "It's not a bad life," the taller woman said; and the other, "It could be worse." "I'll free you, too, if I can," Toug promised them. Both looked frightened and hurried out. "I didn't mean to scare them," Toug said as the huge door banged shut. Mani was composed. "Magic has a way of doing that." "I didn't say anything about magic." Toug resumed his examination of the room. Among other things, it held a bed slightly smaller than his father's house in Glennidam, four chairs with rungs he would have to climb in order to sit in them, and a table upon which half a dozen people could have danced. "There's a sandbox over here," Mani remarked. "That's hospitable of them." Slowly, Toug nodded. "We're going to live here awhile. Or they think we are." "If I were to offer a guess, you'd say I cheated." "No, I won't." "All right." Mani paused for dramatic effect. "My guess is that there is a chamber pot under that bed for you, and it's five times too" "What's the matter?" "That picture." Mani was staring up at it with eyes wide. "He's gone." "The man in the black robe?" "It wasn't a man, it was a Frost Giant." Mani climbed a chair back as he might have climbed a wall, and sprang to the top of the table. "I didn't know the giants painted pictures," Toug said. "I doubt that they do. They don't seem to do much that they can get slaves to do for them." "They're blind." "Not the women, and many women are very artistic." The tip of Mani's tail twitched. "My mistress drew wonderful pictures when her spells required them. Magic and art have a great deal in common." "You said those women were afraid of magic," Toug argued, "when there wasn't any for them to be afraid of." "Little you know." "Are you just going to sit and stare at that picture?" "It's like watching a rathole," Mani explained. "There are ratholes in the wainscoting, by the way." "I wouldn't have the patience." Mani looked superior but said nothing. "Did you recognize him?" Toug inquired. "The Frost Giant in the picture? No." The top of the bed was higher than Toug's chin, but by grasping the blanket and jumping he climbed onto it. "I did." He swung his feet over the edge. "Who is it?" "I'll tell you if you'll tell me why the king wants to see you." "That's easy. My former mistress told him he ought to." Toug's eyes widened. "Did she tell you that?" "No. I haven't spoken to her since she told me about the Aelf with the broken back. But who else who knows about me could have talked to him? Now whose portrait was it?" "She's a ghost? That's what Sir Able said." "Correct. Fulfill your part of our bargain." Toug swung his legs, kicking the side of the mattress. "Why would she want him to talk to you?" Mani's unwavering gaze remained on the painting. "At the moment I've no idea, but that question was no part of our bargain. Who was it?" "We should know after we've talked to him. Are you going to talk, Mani? He won't like it if you don't." "Then I'd better, and this is the last time I make any such bargain with you. I thought you honorable." "I am," Toug declared. "It was a picture of" The door opened, and a black-robed Angrborn so tall that the room seemed small entered. "It's of me," he said. "My name is Thiazi, and I am our king's primary minister." His voice was low and chilling. He pulled out one of the chairs and sat. "Our king is dining. He'll send for you when he is finished. I thought it would be best to settle matters between ourselves first." On the table, Mani had turned away from the empty frame. Thiazi studied him. "Which of you is in charge?" "He is," Toug said. "Only I don't know whether he'll talk to you. Sometimes he doesn't talk to people." Mani's voice purred. "I always talk to magic workers. I am in charge, as my servitor told you. As to settling matters, what matters have we to settle?" A frosty smile touched Thiazi's lips. "You will tell me when you'd like me to pet you?" "I will tell you if I would like you to pet me. It's a privilege I accord to few, and seldom to them. Is that one? Am I to let your king stroke me whether I like it or not?" "It might be wise. He's fond of animals." "If he is fond of cats, he will understand." Thiazi smiled again. "You wish no help from me in this matter?" "I require no help from you in this matter," Mani said deliberately, "nor in any other. On the other hand, tangible gestures of goodwill are always appreciated and are usually reciprocated. How can we serve you?" "In several ways. Are you aware that your party has slain thirteen royal Borderers?" "We were robbed when I was not present to prevent it." Thiazi nodded. "By the Borderers, of course." "They did not identify themselves." Toug interrupted. "Those were the king's men?" Thiazi looked prouder than ever. "They were sons of Angr, our great ancestress, in royal service." "But. . ." "They took the goods you were bringing to Utgard. Of course they did." Mani said, "Acting on the king's order?" "Your party appeared warlike. Do you deny it?" "Yes," Mani said. "Certainly." "You had armored horsemen and bowmen. You've reasons to present, I'm sure, but they were there. WeHis Majestywished to determine how strong you really were." "Acting on your advice?" Thiazi waved Mani's question away. "The experiment might prove of interest. It proved much more interesting than we anticipated. His Majesty's Borderers overcame your fighters with ease and carried off your valuables." "We got them back," Toug said grimly. "Exactly. We had hoped, you see, that your leader would return to his king for more gifts. That would have been profitable, though not enlightening. What happened instead was that a green horseman appeared among you." "How do you know?" Mani asked. Toug said, "We didn't kill all the giants. Some ran." Thiazi nodded. "I have spoken to them. More to the point, I was watching you in my crystal." Mani said, "I'd like to see it." Thiazi accorded him another frosty smile. "You shall, little pussy. You shall." Toug said, "Do you want to know if Mani and me fought your Borderers? I did, and he didn't. If you think you ought to do something to me for fighting the people who robbed our king, I can't stop you." Thiazi shook his head, regarding Toug through narrowed eyes. "You think me a sadist. I inflict pain when duty demands it. I neither object to it nor enjoy it, but do my duty. Have you watched your friend toy with a mouse? When you have, he may no longer be your friend." "Cats are cats," Toug said. "I never thought he looked like a cow." Mani smiled, which he did with his mouth slightly open. Thiazi might not have seen it. "We're interested in the green horseman. You have other armored horsemen among you." Toug said, "Yes, sir." "Are their names secrets you may not divulge?" "No, sir. Sir Garvaon, sir. He's the senior knight. And Sir Svon. I'm Sir Svon's squire, sir." "Sir Garvaon is the green horseman?" "No, sir. That's" "Can't you see they'll slay him?" Mani hissed. "I hope not, little cat. We'd rather honor him. Your king sends you because he wishes our king his friend." "He didn't send Mani," Toug said, "he sent Lord Beel and Lady Idnn with fine gifts." "While His Majesty," Thiazi continued, "desires the friendship of the green horseman, whose name is . . . ?" Toug said nothing. "Oh, come now. Perhaps I should explain the political situation. His Majesty's father was king in his time. A wise king, as his son is, but one who insisted his commands be executed promptly and with a will. He was king, after all, and those who forgot it did so at their peril." Toug nodded. "He died, alas. His son Prince Gilling succeeded him, becoming our present majesty. You," a forefinger longer than Toug's hand indicated Toug, "stand at the brink of manhood. His Majesty's situation was the same. Young and inexperienced, he was thought weak. Distant lords rebelled. When we went east, rebellion broke out in the west. When we went west, the east broke out afresh. In the mountains of the south, Mice plotted to bring low the pure get of Angr. Partiality toward your kind was out of the question. The loyalty of many was doubtful or worse. We dared not lose a battle, and any trivial act that might support the lie that His Majesty favored you would've been disastrous. Thus he treated you with utmost rigor. He had to." Mani asked, "Are things so different now?" "Oh, indeed." If Thiazi had caught the irony in Mani's question, he ignored it. "The realm has been subdued. The rebels are dead, and their sons and sires. Their strongholds are in the hands of vassals of proven loyalty. I myselfsomeday I may show you Thiazbor and Flintwal, but no words of mine could describe them." "If the king wants to be nice to us, he could let Lord Beel's people into Utgard," Toug suggested. "As he will, when he's made his point." Thiazi smiled. "After we have decided just how they are to be treated. You are helping us with that, and I have comeI speak franklyto suggest how you might best do it. You're loyal to your king, so you indicated. You fought our Borderers to recover your king's goods. You challenged me to punish you for it." "Well, no" Toug began. "Your king desires His Majesty's friendship. Thus you serve your king best if you please His Majesty." Slowly, Toug nodded. "His Majesty has human slaves. You have seen them." Toug nodded again. "I need to talk to you about those." "You shall." Mani yawned. "This doesn't concern me." "The connection will become apparent, pussy. Our king's slaves serve him well. He treats them better than he might, and they're conscious of their honor as royal chattels. Not infrequently there are disturbances in remote locales, in the south, particularly. The Mice in the mountains and others. He has trusty servants who might act, yet he must hesitate before dispatching them. What if a fresh rebellion were to break out? And would not their absence encourage it?" "I understand," Toug said. "You want us to do it." Thiazi smiled. "It's really rather simple, isn't it? If slaves, forced to serve, serve well and loyally, would not friends, valiant horsemen attached to His Majesty by bonds of gratitude, serve better? He has gold to give, lands, slaves, fame, the encomia of a king. All that the valiant desire." "I'll tell Sir Svon when I see him again," Toug said, hoping he would indeed see Sir Svon again. "What of the green horseman? Won't you tell him, too?" "If I see him." "It can be arranged, perhaps. Do you know where he is?" "No," Toug said. "He went away." "But you, pussy. You are wise." Mani opened his eyes. "Who are we talking about?" Thiazi's huge hand found Toug's shoulder. "Tell him!" "It's Sir Able, of course." "They weren't sure," Mani explained. "Now they know." "We consulted my crystal," Thiazi leaned back, smiling, "and were shown a speaking cat. Neither His Majesty nor I could guess how a cat could bring the green horseman into His Majesty's service, but we resolved to do all we could. On my advice, His Majesty left the ambassador and his train without the walls and dispatched an officer to obtain the cat." Thiazi's forefinger nearly touched Mani's nose. "You." The finger was withdrawn. "His Majesty's officer succeeded, and you, Squire, confirmed in His Majesty's hearing that it was a speaking cat. Furthermore, you informed us that it had been given to this Lady Idnn by a horseman." Thiazi paused. "No mean gift, is it? A speaking cat! He must esteem her." "I'm sure he does, sir," Toug said. "You will wish to discuss his regard for her with His Majesty." Thiazi rose. "And to decide how you and this cat will persuade him to enter our service. His Majesty will ask you that, I feel certain. It would be prudent to have an answer ready. Wash your face, too, and dress yourself in the clothing I provided." When the door had shut, Toug slid off the bed, found the batswing tunic, and put it on, tossing the torn and terribly dirty shirt his mother had sewn for him into a corner. "I'd like to know how long I've been away," he muttered. "From your home? Don't you know?" Toug shook his head. "A lot was in Aelfrice, and things go slow there, Sir Able says. Only my sister Ulfa wasn't in Aelfrice, so maybe she can tell me." Mani looked bored. "Still think she's here?" "Remember when the king wanted his table for us to stand on? Blind men carried it, with a woman bossing them." "Certainly." "Well, that was my sister." When Mani said nothing, Toug added, "What's the matter? Don't you believe me?" "Of course I do. I'm merely digesting the information." Mani's eyes flew wide, two shining emeralds. "You require experienced, wise, and subtle guidance, young man." "Yes, but there's nobody like that here." "Wrong. I stand before you. We must free your sister." Toug nodded. "We must also reunite Sir Able with his servant, and recover Sir Able's belongingshis horses and goods." Toug nodded again. "Nor is that all. We must assist Lord Beel in securing peace, and my mistress and your master in overcoming whatever impediments may separate them. You agree?" "You bet I do." "What else? Anything?" "I'd like to meet some girls." Mani smiled, displaying fangs too large for an animal his size. "I know the feeling. What about returning to your home in whachamacallit?" "Glennidam." Toug had gone to the door. Its latch was higher than his head, but he reached it without difficulty. "This's locked." "I expected no less. Want to go back to Glennidam?" "I'd rather stay with Sir Svon and learn to be a knight, but I'd like to help my sister get home if she wants to." "Well spoken. Now, are any of these mutually exclusive? Suppose, for example, that we make it possible for your master and my mistress to disport themselves as they think fit. Would it interfere with your learning to be a knight?" "I don't see how." "Nor do I. Did your sister recognize you?" "Yes, I'm sure she did. We sort of looked at each other for a minute, if you know what I mean." "Certainly. That being the case, why" "What's the matter?" Toug asked. Mani gestured toward the frowning face of Thiazi in the painting. "He's back." Reluctantly, Toug nodded. "Do you think he hears us?" "I'm sure of it." Mani dashed across the table and sprang onto the windowsill. "Be careful!" Toug called, but Mani had vanished. "See what you did?" Toug asked the picture. "You and your magic! What if he gets killed?" Mani's head reappeared over the sill. "This isn't bad at all. Are you a good climber?" "Pretty good," Toug said doubtfully. "Come on, then." Mani vanished a second time. Toug dragged the nearest chair to the window, climbed it, and looked out. He