The Worm Ouroboros (58 page)

"One thinge more I telle you, that shall haply enforce my counsell unto you, the hevyeste Newes of alle."

"'Tis heavy news that such a false troker as he is should yet supervive so many honest men," said Corund.

The Lady Prezmyra held out the letter to her lord. "Mine eyes dazzle," she said. "Read thou the rest." Corund put his great arm about her as he sat down to the table before the mirror and pored over the writing, spelling it out with one finger. He had little book-learning, and it was some time ere he had the meaning clear. He did not read it out; his lady's face told him she had read all ere he began.

This was the last news Gro's letter told her: the Prince her brother dead in the sea-fight, fighting for Demonland; dead and drowned in the sea off Melikaphkhaz.

Prezmyra went to the window. Dawn was beginning, bleak and gray. After a minute she turned her head. Like a she-lion she looked, proud and dangerous-eyed. She was very pale. Her accents, level and quiet, called to the blood like the roll of a distant drum, as she said, "Succours of Demonland: late or never."

Corund beheld her uneasily.

"Their oaths to me and to him!" said she, "sworn to us that night in Carcë. False friends! O, I could eat their hearts with garlic."

He put his great hands on her two shoulders. She threw them off. "In one thing," she cried, "Gro counselleth us well: to tarry no more on this sinking ship. We must raise forces. But not as he would have it, to uphold these Demons, these oath-breakers. We must away this night."

Her lord had cast aside his great wolfskin mantle. "Come, madam," said he, "to bed's our nearest journey."

Prezmyra answered, "I'll not to bed. It shall be seen now, O Corund, if that thou be a king indeed."

He sat down on the bed's edge and fell to doing off his boots. "Well," he said, "every one as he likes, as the goodman said when he kissed his cow. Day's near dawning; I must be up betimes, and a sleepless night's a poor breeder of invention."

But she stood over him, saying, "It shall be seen if thou be a true king. And be not deceived: if thou fail me here I'll have no more of thee. This night we must away. Thou shalt raise Pixyland, which is now mine by right: raise power in thine own vast kingdom of Impland. Fling Witchland to the winds. What care I if she sink or swim? This only is the matter: to punish these vile perjured Demons, enemies of ours and enemies of all the world."

"We need ride o' no journey for that," said Corund, still putting off his boots. "Thou shalt shortly see Juss and his brethren before Carcë with three score hundred fighting men at's back. Then cometh the metal to the anvil. Come, come, thou must not weep."

"I do not weep," said she. "Nor I shall not weep. But I'll not be ta'en in Carcë like a mouse in a trap."

"I'm glad thou'lt not weep, madam. It is as great pity to see a woman weep as a goose to go barefoot. Come, be not foolish. We must not part forces now. We must bide this storm in Carcë."

But she cried, "There is a curse on Carcë. Gro is lost to us and his good counsel. Dear my lord, I see something wicked that like a thick dark shadow shadoweth all the sky above us. What place is there not subject to the power and regiment of Gorice the King? but he is too proud: we be all too insolent overweeners of our own works. Carcë hath grown too great, and the Gods be offended at us. The insolent vileness of Corinius, the old dotard Corsus that must still be at his boosing-can, these and our own private quarrels in Carcë must be our bane. Repugn not therefore against the will of the Gods, but take the helm in thine own hand ere it be too late."

"Tush, madam," said he, "these be but fray-bugs. Day-light shall make thee laugh at 'em."

But Prezmyra, queening it no longer, caught her arms about his neck. "The odd man to perform all perfectly is thou. Wilt thou see us rushing on this whirlpool and not swim for it ere it be too late?" And she said in a choked voice, "My heart is near broke already. Do not break it utterly. Only thou art left now."

The chill dawn, the silent room, the guttering candles, and that high- hearted lady of his, daunted for an instant from her noble and equal courage, cowering like a bird in his embrace: these things were like an icy breath that passed by and quailed him for a moment. He took her by her two hands and held her off from him. She held her head high again, albeit her cheek was blanched; he felt the brave comrade-grip of her hands in his.

"Dear lass," he said, "I cast me not to be odd with none of these spawn of Demonland. Here is my hand, and the hand of my sons, heavy while breath remaineth us against Demonland for thee and for the King. But sith our lord the King hath made me a king, come wind, come weet, we must weather it in Carcë. True is that saw, 'For fame one maketh a king, not for long living.'"

Prezmyra thought in her heart that these were fey words. But having now put behind her hope and fear, she was resolved to kick against the wind no more, but stand firm and see what Destiny would do.

GORICE the king sate in his chamber the thirteenth morning after these tidings brought to Carcë. On the table under his hand were papers of account and schedules of his armies and their equipment. Corund sate at the King's right hand, and over against him Corinius.

Corund's great hairy hands were clasped before him on the table. He spoke without book, resting his gaze on the steady clouds that sailed across the square of sky seen through the high window that faced him. "Of Witchland and the home provinces, O King, nought but good. All the companies of soldiers which were appointed to repair to this part by the tenth of the month are now come hither, save some bands of spearmen from the south, and some from Estreganzia. These last I expect to-day; Viglus writeth they come with him with the heavy troops from Baltary I sent him to assemble. So is the muster full as for these parts: Thramnл, Zorn, Permio, the land of Ar, Trace, Buteny, and Estremerine. Of the subject allies, there's less good there. The kings of Mynia and Gilta: Olis of Tecapan: County Escobrine of Tzeusha: the king of Ellien: all be here with their contingents. But there's mightier names we miss. Duke Maxtlin of Azumel hath flung off's allegiance and cut off your envoy's ears, O King; 'tis thought for some supposed light part of the sons of Corsus done to his sister. That docketh us thirty score stout fighters. The lord of Eushtlan sendeth no answer, and now are we advertised by Mynia and Gilta of his open malice and treason, who did stubbornly let them the way hither through his country while they hastened to do your majesty's commands. Then there's the Ojedian levies, should be nigh a thousand spears, ten days overdue. Heming, that raiseth Pixyland in Prezmyra's name, will bring them in if he may. Who also hath order, being on his way, to rouse Maltraeny to action, from whom no word as yet; and I do fear treachery in 'em. Maltraeny and Ojedia both, they have been so long of coming. King Barsht of Toribia sendeth flat refusal."

"It is known to you besides, O King," said Corinius, "that the king of Nevria came in last night, many days past the day appointed, and but half his just complement."

The King drew back his lips. "I will not dash his spirits by blaming him at this present. Later, I'll have that king's head for this."

"This is the sum," said Corund. "Nay, then, I had forgot the Red Foliot with's folk, three hundred perchance, came in this morning."

Corinius thrust out his tongue and laughed: "One hen-lobster such as he shall scarce afford a course for this banquet."

"He keepeth faith," said Corund, "where bigger men turn dastards. 'Tis seen now that these forced leagues be as sure as they were sealed with butter. Your majesty will doubtless give him audience."

The King was silent awhile, studying his papers. "What strength to-day in Carcë?" he asked.

Corund answered him, "As near as may be two score hundred foot and fifty score horse: five thousand in all. And, that I weigh most, O King, big broad strong set lads of Witchland nigh every jack of 'em."

The King said, "'Twas not well done, O Corund, to bid thy son delay for Ojedia and Maltraeny. He might else have been in Carcë now with a thousand Pixylanders to swell our strength."

"I did that I did," answered Corund, "seeking only your good, O King. A few days' delay might buy us a thousand spears."

"Delay," said the King, "hath favoured mine enemy. This we should have done: at his first landing give him no time but wink, set on him with all our forces, and throw him into the sea."

"If luck go with us that may yet be," said Corund.

The King's nostrils widened. He crouched forward, glaring at Corund and Corinius, his jaw thrust out so that the stiff black beard on it brushed the papers on the table before him. "The Demons," said he, "landed i' the night at Ralpa. They come on with great journeys northward. Will be here ere three days be spent."

Both they grew red as blood. Corund spake: "Who told you these tidings, O King?"

"Care not thou for that," said the King. "Enough for thee, I know it. Hath it ta'en you napping?"

"No," answered he. "These ten days past we have been ready, with what strength we might make, to receive 'em, come they from what quarter they will. So it is, though, that while we lack the Pixyland succours Juss hath by some odds the advantage over us, if, as our intelligence saith, six thousand fighting men do follow him, and these forced besides with some that should be ours."

"Thou wouldst," said the King, "await these out of Pixyland, with that else Heming may gather, afore we offer them battle?"

Said Corund, "That would I. We must look beyond the next turn of the road, O my Lord the King."

"That would not I," said Corinius.

"That is stoutly said, Corinius," said the King. "Yet remember, thou hadst the greater force on Krothering Side, yet wast overborne."

"'Tis that standeth in my mind, Lord," said Corund. "For well I know, had I been there I'd a fared no better."

The Lord Corinius, whose brow had darkened with the naming of his defeat, looked cheerfully now and said, "I pray you but consider, O my Lord the King, that here at home is no room for such a sleight or gin as that whereby in their own country they took me. When Juss and Brandoch Daha and their stinking gaberlunzies do cry huff at us on Witchland soil, 'tis time to give 'em a choke-pear. Which with your leave, Lord, I will promise now to do, other else to lose my life."

"Give me thy hand," said Corund. "Of all men else would I a chosen thee for such a day as this, and (were't to-day to meet the whole power of Demonland in arms) to stand perdue with thee for this bloody service. But let us hear the King's commands: which way soe'er he choose, we shall do it right gladly."

Gorice the King sat silent. One lean hand rested on the iron serpent- head of his chair's ann, the other, with finger outstretched against the jutting cheekbone, supported his chin. Only in the deep shadow of his eye-sockets a lambent light moved. At length he started, as if the spirit, flown to some unsounded gulfs of time or space, had in that instant returned to its mortal dwelling. He gathered the papers in a heap and tossed them to Corund.

"Too much lieth on it," said he. "He that hath many peas may put more in the pot. But now the day approacheth when I and Juss must cast up our account together, and one or all shall be brought to death and bane." He stood up from his chair and looked down on those two, his chosen captains, great men of war raised up by him to be kings over two quarters of the world. They watched him like little birds under the eye of a snake. "The country hereabout," said the King, "is not good for horsemanship, and the Demons be great horsemen. Carcë is strong, and never can it be forced by assault. Also under mine eye should my men of Witchland acquit themselves to do the greatest deeds. Therefore will we abide them here in Carcë, until young Heming come and his levies out of Pixyland. Then shall ye fall upon them and never make an end till the land be utterly purged of them, and all the lords of Demonland be slain."

Corinius said, "To hear is to obey, O King. Howsoever, not to dissemble with you, I'd liever at 'em at once, 'stead of let them sit awhile and refresh their army. Occasion is a wanton wench, O King, that is quick to beckon another man if one look coldly on her. Moreover, Lord, could you not by your art, in small time, with certain compositions?-"

But the King brake in upon him saying, "Thou knowest not what thou speakest. There is thy sword; there thy men; these my commands. See thou perform them punctually when time shall come."