The Complete Lyonesse Part 22

Arbogast now rose to his feet; wheezing and grunting he hunched across the room. He kicked Nerulf into the corner, then stood inspecting the group. He pointed a finger. "You two, step forward!"

Trembling, the two girls he had captured that day moved away from the wall. Dhrun, watching from the window, thought them both very pretty, especially the blonde girl, though the dark-haired girl was perhaps half a year closer to womanhood.

Arbogast spoke in a voice now foolishly arch and jovial. "So here: a pair of fine young pullets, choice and tasty. How do you call yourselves? You!" He pointed at the blonde girl. "Your name?"

"Glyneth."

"And you?"

"Farence."

"Lovely, lovely. Both charming! Who is to be the lucky one? Tonight it shall be Farence."

He seized the dark-haired girl, hoisted her up to his great twenty-foot bed. "Off with your clothes!"

Farence started to cry and beg for mercy. Arbogast gave a ferocious snort of mingled annoyance and pleasure. "Hurry! Or I'll tear them from your back and then you'll have no clothes to wear!"

Stifling her sobs, Farence stepped from her smock. Arbogast chattered in delight. "A pretty sight! What is so toothsome as a nude maiden, shy and delicate?" He went to the table and drank the contents of the purple cup. At once he dwindled in stature to become a squat powerful troll, no taller than Nerulf. Without delay, he hopped up on the bed, discarded his own garments, and busied himself with erotic activities.

Dhrun watched all from the window, his knees limp, the blood pulsing in his throat. Disgust? Horror? Naturally not fear, and he touched the talisman gratefully. Nonetheless the emotion, whatever its nature, had a curiously debilitating effect.

Arbogast was indefatigable. Long after Farence became limp he continued his activity. Finally he collapsed upon the couch with a groan of satisfaction, and instantly fell asleep.

Dhrun was visited by an amusing notion, and, insulated from fear, was not thereby deterred. He lowered himself to the top of Arbogast's high-backed chair, and jumped down to the table. He poured the contents of the green cup out on the floor, added new wine and two drops from the purple bottle. He then climbed back to the window and hid behind the curtain.

The night pa.s.sed and the fire burned low. Arbogast snored; the children were silent save for an occasional whimper.

The gray light of morning seeped through the windows. Arbogast awoke. He lay for a minute, then hopped to the floor. He visited the privy, voided, and returning, went to the hearth, where he blew up the fire and piled on fresh fuel. When the flames roared and crackled, he went to his table and climbing upon the chair, took up the green mug and swallowed its contents. Instantly, by virtue of the drops which Dhrun had mixed into the wine, he shrank in size until he was only a foot tall. Dhrun at once leapt down from the window, to chair, to table, to floor. He drew his sword and cut the scurrying squawking creature into pieces. These pieces squirmed and struggled and sought to join themselves, and Dhrun could not relax from his work. Glyneth ran forward and seizing the fresh cut pieces threw them into the fire, where they burnt to ash and so were destroyed. Meanwhile Dhrun placed the head into a pot and clapped on the cover, whereupon the head tried to pull itself out by means of tongue and teeth.

The remaining children came forward. Dhrun, wiping his sword on Arbogast's greasy crush hat said: "You need fear no - more harm; Arbogast is helpless."

Nerulf licked his lips and stalked forward. "And who, may I ask, are you?"

"My name is Dhrun; I am a chance pa.s.serby."

"I see." Nerulf drew a deep breath and squared his meaty shoulders. He was, thought Dhrun, a person not at all prepossessing, with his coa.r.s.e features, thick mouth, pointed chin and narrow black eyes. "Well then," said Nerulf, "please accept our compliments. It was exactly the plan I was about to carry out myself, as a matter of fact; still, you made quite a decent job of it. Now, let me think. We've got to reorganize; how shall we proceed? First, this mess must be cleaned. Pode and Hloude: mops and buckets. A good job now; I don't want to see a single smear when you're done. Dhrun, you can help them. Gretina, Zoel, Glyneth, Bertrude: explore the larder, bring out the best and prepare us all a fine breakfast. Lossamy and Fulp: carry all of Arbogast's clothes outside, also the blankets, and perhaps the place will smell better."

While Nerulf issued further orders, Dhrun climbed to the table top. He poured an ounce of wine into both green and purple mugs, and added to each a drop from the appropriate bottle. He swallowed the green potion, and at once became twelve feet tall. He jumped to the floor and seized the astonished Nerulf by the iron ring around his neck. From the table Dhrun brought the purple potion and thrust it into Nerulf's mouth. "Drink!"

Nerulf attempted to protest, but was allowed no choice. "Drink!"

Nerulf gulped the potion and shrank to become a burly imp about two feet tall. Dhrun prepared to resume his ordinary size but Glyneth stopped him. "First remove the iron rings from about our necks."

One by one the children filed past Dhrun. He nicked the metal with his blade Da.s.senach, then twisted once, twice, and broke the rings apart. When all had been liberated, Dhrun reduced to his normal height. With great care he wrapped the two bottles and tucked them into his pouch. The other children meanwhile had found sticks and were beating Nerulf with intense satisfaction. Nerulf howled, danced and begged for mercy, but found none and was beaten until he was black and blue. For a few moments Nerulf was allowed surcease, until one of the children was reminded anew of some past cruelty and Nerulf was beaten again.

The girls declared themselves willing to prepare a bountiful feast, of ham and sausages, candied currants, partridge pie, fine bread and b.u.t.ter and gallons of Arbogast's best wine, but they refused to start until the fireplace was cleared of ash and bones: all too vivid mementos of their servitude. Everyone worked with a will, and soon the hall was comparatively clean.

At noon a great banquet was served. By some means Arbogast's head had managed to raise itself to the rim of the pot, to which it hooked its teeth and pressed up the lid with its forehead, and with its two eyes watched from the darkness inside the pot as the children reveled in the best the castle's larder could afford. When they had finished their meal, Dhrun noticed that the lid had fallen from the pot, which now was empty. He set up a shout and all ran looking for the missing head. Pode and Daffin discovered it halfway across the meadow, pulling itself forward by snapping at the ground with its teeth. They knocked it back toward the hall, and in the front yard built a kind of gallows, from which they suspended the head by an iron wire tied to the mud-colored hair. At the insistence of all, the better that they could regard their erstwhile captor, Dhrun forced a drop of green potion into the red mouth, and the head resumed its natural size, and even issued a set of rasping orders, which were joyfully ignored.

While the head watched aghast, the children piled f.a.ggots below and brought fire from the hearth to set the f.a.ggots ablaze. Dhrun brought out his pipes and played while the children danced in a circle. The head roared and supplicated but was allowed no mercy. At last the head was reduced to ash, and Arbogast the ogre was no more.

Fatigued by the day's events, the children trooped back into the hall. They supped on porridge and soup of cabbage, with good crusty bread and more of Arbogast's wine; then they prepared to sleep. A few of the more hardy climbed up on Arbogast's bed, desipite the rancid stench; the others sprawled before the fire.

Dhrun, weary in every bone from his vigil of the night before, not to mention his deeds of the day, nonetheless found himself unable to sleep. He lay before the fire, head propped on his hands and considered his adventures. He had not fared too badly. Perhaps seven years of bad luck had not been inflicted upon him after all.

The fire burned low. Dhrun went to the wood-box for logs. He dropped them upon the coals, to send showers of red sparks veering up the chimney. The flames flared high, and glinted back from the eyes of Glyneth, who also sat awake. She joined Dhrun in front of the fireplace. The two sat clasping their knees and looking into the flames. Glyneth spoke in a husky half-whisper: "No one has troubled to thank you for saving our lives. I do so now. Thank you, dear Dhrun; you are gallant and kind and remarkably brave."

Dhrun said in a wistful voice: "I would hope to be gallant and kind, since I am the son of a prince and a princess, but as for bravery, I can honorably claim none."

"Sheer nonsense! Only a person of great bravery would have done as you did."

Dhrun gave a bitter laugh. He touched his talisman. "The fairies knew my fearfulness and gave me this amulet of courage; without it I could have dared nothing."

"I'm not at all certain of that," said Glyneth. "Amulet or none, I consider you very brave."

"That is good to hear," said Dhrun mournfully. "I wish it were so."

"All this to the side, why would the fairies give you such a gift, or any gift whatever? They are not ordinarily so generous."

"I lived with the fairies all my days at Thripsey Shee, on Madling Meadow. Three days ago they cast me out, though many of them loved me and gave me gifts. There were one or two who wished me ill and tricked me so that when I looked back and incurred seven years of bad luck."

Glyneth took Dhrun's hand and held it against her cheek. "How could they be so cruel?"

"It was strictly the fault of Falael, who lives for such mischief. And what of you? Why are you here?"

Glyneth smiled sadly into the fire. "It's a dreary tale. Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"If you want to tell it."

"I'll leave out the worst parts. I lived in North Ulfland, at the town Throckshaw. My father was a squire. We lived in a fine house with gla.s.s windows and feather-beds and a rug on the parlor floor. There were eggs and porridge for breakfast, sausages and roasted pullets at noon dinner and a good soup for supper, with a salad of garden greens.

"Count Julk ruled the land from Castle Sfeg; he was at war with the Ska, who already had settled the Foresh.o.r.e. To the south of Throckshaw is Poelitetz: a pa.s.s through the Teach tac Teach into Dahaut and a place coveted by the Ska. Always the Ska put pressure on us; always Count Julk drove them back. One day a hundred Ska knights on black horses raided Throckshaw. The men of the town took up arms and drove them away. A week later an army of five hundred Ska riding black horses drove up from the Foresh.o.r.e and reduced Throckshaw. They killed my father and mother, and burnt our house. I hid under the hay with my cat Pettis, and watched while they rode back and forth screaming like demons. Count Julk appeared with his knights, but the Ska killed him, conquered the countryside, and perhaps Poelitetz as well.

"When the Ska left Throckshaw, I took a few silver coins and ran away with Pettis. Twice I was almost captured by vagabonds. One night I ventured into an old barn. A great dog came roaring at me. Rather than running, my brave Pettis attacked the beast and was killed. The farmer came to investigate and discovered me. He and his wife were kind folk and gave me a home. I was almost content, though I worked hard in the b.u.t.tery, and also during the threshing. But one of the sons began to molest me, and to suggest careless behavior. I dared no longer walk alone to the barn for fear he would find me. One day a procession came by. They called themselves Relicts of Old Gomar* and were on pilgrimage to a celebration at G.o.dwyne Foiry, the ruins of Old Gomar's capitol, at the edge of the Great Forest, over the Teach tac Teach and into Dahaut. I joined them and so left the farmhouse.

*Gomar: ancient kingdom comprising all of North Hybras and the Hesperian Islands.

"We crossed the mountains in safety, and came to G.o.dwyne Foiry. We camped at the edge of the ruins and all was well, until the day before Midsummer's Eve when I learned of the celebrations and what would be expected of me. The men wear the horns of goats and elk, nothing more. They paint their faces blue and their legs brown. The women plait the leaves of ash trees into their hair and wear cinctures of twenty-four rowan berries about their waists. Each time a woman consorts with a man, he breaks one of her berries; and whichever woman first breaks all her berries is declared the incarnation of the love G.o.ddess Sobh. I was told that at least six of the men were planning to lay hands on me at once, even though I am not yet truly a woman. I left the camp that very night and hid in the forest.

"I had a dozen frights and a dozen close escapes, and finally a witch trapped me under her hat and sold me to Arbogast, and you know the rest."

The two sat silently, looking into the fire. Dhrun said: "I wish I could travel with you and protect you, but I am burdened with seven years bad luck, or so I fear, which I would not share with you."

Glyneth leaned her head on Dnrun's shoulder. "I would gladly take the chance."

They sat talking long into the night, while the fire once again lapsed to coals. There was quiet inside and outside the hall, disturbed only by a pitter-patter from above, caused, according to Glyneth, by the ghosts of dead children running along the' roof.

In the morning the children breakfasted, then broke into Arbogast's strong-room, where they found a chest of jewels, five baskets full of gold crowns, a set of precious silver punchbowls, intricately carved to depict events of the mythical ages, and dozens of other treasures.

For a time the children frolicked and played with the riches, imagining themselves lords of vast estates, and even Farence took a wan pleasure in the game.

Throughout the afternoon the wealth was shared out equally among the children, all save Nerulf, who was allowed nothing.

After a supper of leeks, preserved goose, white bread and b.u.t.ter and a rich plum-duff with wine sauce, the children gathered around the fireplace to crack nuts and sip cordials. Daffin, Pode, Fulp, Arvil, Hloude, Lossamy and Dhrun were the boys, along with the morose imp Nerulf. The girls were Gretina, Zoel, Bertrude, Farence, Wiedelin and Glyneth. The youngest were Arvil and Zoel; the oldest, aside from Nerulf, were Lossamy and Farence.

For hours they discussed their circ.u.mstances, and the best route through the Forest of Tantrevalles into civilized countryside. Pode and Hloude seemed best acquainted with the terrain. Optimally, so they declared, the group should follow the brick road north to the first river which would necessarily join the Murmeil. They should follow the Murmeil out into the open lands of Dahaut, or perhaps by some stroke of luck they might find or purchase a boat, or even build a raft. "Indeed, with our wealth we can easily obtain a boat and float in ease and comfort downstream to Gehadion Towers, or, should we choose, all the way to Avallon." Such was Pode's opinion.

Finally, an hour before midnight, all stretched out and slept: all except Nerulf, who sat another two hours scowling into the dying embers.

Chapter 19.

IN PREPARATION FOR THEIR journey the children brought the ogre's cart around to the front door of the hall, greased the axles well with tallow and loaded their treasures aboard. Across the shafts they tied poles, so that nine of them could pull and another three push from behind. Only Nerulf was unable to a.s.sist, but no one thought that he would help in any case, since the cart carried no property of his own. The children bade farewell to Arbogast Hall and set off along the brown brick road. The day was fresh; the wind herded a hundred clouds from the Atlantic high across the forest. The children pulled and pushed with a will and the cart trundled along the brick road at a good rate, while Nerulf ran at best speed behind in the dust. At noon the party stopped to dine on bread, meat and heavy brown beer, then continued north and east.

During the late afternoon the road entered a clearing, grown over with rank gra.s.s and a half-dozen crippled apple trees. To one side stood a small ruined abbey, built by Christian missionaries of the first fervent wave. Though the roof had fallen in, the structure offered at least the semblance of shelter. The children built a fire and made a meal of withered apples, bread and cheese, with cress and water from a nearby stream. They made beds of gra.s.s and rested gratefully after the labors of the day. All were happy and confident; luck seemed to have turned their way.

The night pa.s.sed without incident. In the morning the group prepared to set off along the road. Nerulf approached Dhrun, head bowed and hands clasped across his chest. "Sir Dhrun, let me say that the punishment you have visited upon me was well-deserved. I never realized my arrogance until I was forced to do so. But now my faults have been revealed to me in sharpest detail. I believe that I have learned my lesson and that I am a new person, decent and honorable. Therefore, 1 ask that you restore me to my natural condition, so that I may push the cart. I want none of the treasure; I deserve none, but I want to help the others arrive to safety with their valuables. If you see fit not to grant my reqruest; I shall understand and harbor no ill feelings. After all, the fault was mine alone. Still, I am heartily tired of running full speed all day in the dust, tripping over pebbles, fearful of drowning in puddles. What will you tell me, Sir Dhrun?"

Dhrun listened without sympathy. "Wait until we reach civilized safety; then I'll restore you to size."

"Ah, Sir Dhrun, do you not trust me?" cried Nerulf. "In that case, let us part company here and now, since I cannot survive another day of running and bounding behind the cart. Proceed along the road to the great Murmeil and follow its banks to Gehadion Towers. The best of luck to all of you! I will follow at my own pace." Nerulf wiped his eyes with a dirty knuckle. "Sometime you may be sauntering through a carnival in your fine clothes and chance to notice a manikin beating a drum or performing ludicrous antics; if so, please spare the poor fellow a penny as it might be your old companion Nerulf-if of course I survive the beasts of Tantrevalles."

Dhrun considered a long moment. "You have truly repented of your past conduct?"

"I despise myself!" cried Nerulf. "I look back upon the old Nerulf with disdain!"

"In that case there is no point in prolonging your punishment." Dhrun poured a drop from the green bottle into a cup of water. "Drink this, resume your proper condition, become a true comrade to the rest of us, and perhaps you will profit in the end."

"Thank you, Sir Dhrun!" Nerulf drank the potion, and expanded to become his old burly self. Quick as a wink he leapt upon Dhrun, threw him to the ground, tore away his sword Da.s.senach and buckled it around his own thick waist. Then he took the green bottle and the purple bottle and flung them against a stone, so that they shattered and all their contents were lost. "There will be no more of that foolishness," declared Nerulf. "I am the largest and strongest, and once again I am in power." He kicked Dhrun. "To your feet!"

"You told me that you had repented your old ways!" cried Dhrun indignantly.

"True! I was not severe enough. I allowed too much ease. Things will now be different. Out to the cart, everyone!"

The frightened children gathered at the cart and waited while Nerulf cut an alder switch and tied three cords to the end, to make a crude but serviceable whip.

"Line up!" barked Nerulf. "Quick then! Pode, Daffin, do you taunt me? Would you care to taste the whip? Silence! All attend my words with great care; they will not be repeated.

"First, I am your master, and you live by my command.

"Second, the treasure is mine. Every gem, every coin, every last t.i.ttle and sc.r.a.p.

"Third, our destination is Cluggach in G.o.delia. The Celts ask far fewer questions than the Dauts, and interfere not at all in anyone's business.

"Fourth"-here Nerulf paused and smiled unpleasantly- "when I was helpless you took up sticks and beat me. I recall each and every blow, and if those who struck me now find their skins tingling, the premonition is sound. Bare bottoms will turn to the sky! Switches will whistle and welts will appear!

"That is all I wish to say, but I will gladly answer questions."

No one spoke, though a morose thought pa.s.sed through Dhrun's mind: seven years had barely started, but already bad luck had struck with vindictive force.

"Then take your places at the cart!"

"Today we move fast; our style is brisk! Not like yesterday when you eased and ambled." Nerulf climbed aboard the cart and made himself comfortable. "Be away! Smartly! Heads back, heels in the air!" He cracked the whip. "Pode! Less pumping of the elbows. Daffin! Open your eyes; you'll have us all in the ditch! Dhrun, more gracefully, show us a fine smart stride! And off we go through the beautiful morning, and it's a happy time for all!... Here now! Why the slackening? You girls especially, you're running like hens!"

"We're tired," gasped Glyneth.

"So soon? Well, perhaps I overestimated your strength, as it seems so easy from here. And you in particular; I don't want you too limp, as tonight I shall put you to another kind of exertion. Ha ha! Pleasure for him who holds the whip! Forward once more, at half-speed."

Dhrun took occasion to whisper to Glyneth: "Don't worry; he won't harm you. Mine is a magic sword and comes to my command. At the proper time I will call it to my hand and hold him helpless."

Glyneth nodded despondently.

During the middle afternoon the road rose into a line of low hills and the children failed against the weight of cart, treasure and Nerulf. First using his whip, then dismounting, and finally helping to push, Nerulf a.s.sisted in bringing the cart to the high ridge. A short but steep stretch of road intervened between the cart and the sh.o.r.es of Lake Lingolen. Nerulf cut down a forty-foot pine tree with Dhrun's sword and tied it as a drag to the rear of the cart and the slope was negotiated safely.

They found themselves on a marshy margin between lake and the dark hills, upon which the sun was declining.

Up from the marsh thrust a number of islands; one of them served as refuge for a gang of bandits. Their lookouts had already taken note of the cart; now they sprang from ambush. The children, for an instant paralyzed, fled in all directions. As soon as the bandits discovered the nature of their booty they gave up all thought of pursuit.

Dhrun and Glyneth fled together, along the road to the east. They ran until their chests hurt and cramps bound their legs; then they threw themselves into the tall gra.s.s beside the road to rest.

An instant later another fugitive flung himself down beside them: Nerulf.

Dhrun sighed. "Seven years bad luck: will it always be this bad?"

"Stop that insolence!" hissed Nerulf. "I am still in command, in case you are uncertain. Now stand up!"

"What for? I'm tired."

"No matter. My great treasure has been lost; still, it's just possible that a few gems are hidden about your person. On your feet! You too, Glyneth!"

Dhrun and Glyneth rose slowly. In Dhrun's pouch Nerulf discovered the old purse and turned it out into his hand. He grunted in disgust. "A crown, a florin, a penny: just barely better than nothing." He cast the old purse to the ground. With quiet dignity Dhrun picked it up and restored it to his pouch.

Nerulf searched Glyneth's person, his hands lingering along the contours of her fresh young body, but he found no objects of value. "Well, let's go on for a bit; perhaps we'll find shelter for the night."

The three walked along the road, watching over their shoulders for signs of pursuit, but none appeared. The woodland became extremely heavy and dark; the three, despite fatigue, moved along the road at good speed, and presently emerged once again on open lands beside the marsh.

The setting sun shone from beyond the hills along the underside of clouds sailing across the lake; they cast an unreal dark golden light over the marsh.

Nerulf noticed a small promontory, almost an island, protruding fifty yards into the marsh, with a weeping-willow tree at its highest point. Nerulf turned upon Dhrun a look of lowering menace. "Glyneth and I will spend the night here," he announced. "You go elsewhere, starting now, and never come back. And consider yourself lucky, since I have you to thank for my beatings. Go!" With that he went to the edge of the marsh and using Dhrun's sword began to cut rushes for a bed.

Dhrun went off a few yards, and stopped to think. He could recover Da.s.senach at any time, but to no great effect. Nerulf could run away until he found a weapon: large stones, a long cudgel, or he could merely step behind a tree and challenge Dhrun to come at him. In all cases Nerulf, with his size and strength could overpower Dhrun and kill him if so he chose.

Nerulf, looking up, saw Dhrun and cried out: "Did I not order you to go?" He made a run at Dhrun, who quickly retreated into the dense woods. Here he found a dead branch and broke it to make a stout cudgel four feet long. Then he returned to the marsh.