The Knight. Part 52

"Then it can't be far." I started jogging, something I hadn't done for a while.

"Ain't you a-feared you'll lose your dog, sir?"

I strained to see him, but Gylf's seal-brown rump and long tail had disappeared in the moon-shadow of the hedge. "I'm not, mother. He's run ahead to scout out trouble, which is what I would've told him to do if I'd thought of it."

"Rabbits, too, sir. An' got a deep mouth from the look a' him."

"He does, but he won't be running rabbits this night." I jogged a hundred strides or so in silence, then slowed to a walk. "Did you ever tell me what your errand is, mother? A man, you said."

"Yes, sir." She sounded terribly sad. "You'll think I'm cracked, running after a man at my age."

"There's only one girl for me," I told her, "and people think me cracked because of it. So you're a crazy woman on the charger of a crazy knight. We freaks have got to stick together and help each other, or we'll be left to howl in the swamp."

"Will you tell me about her, sir?"

"For a year. But she isn't around, and your man is. Or he will be soon, we 440.

hope. Is he a good man, and does he know you're coming?"

"Yes, sir." She sighed. "He is. An' he do, sir. Can I tell you how it is with him an' me, sir? 'Twould ease my mind, an' you can laugh if you want to."

"May," I muttered, jogging again. "Yes, I may. But I don't think I will."

"Years an' years ago it were, sir. Him and me lived in a little bit a' a place down south. Every girl there had a eye for him, sir, but him, he had a eye for me. An' n.o.body else'd do. That's what he said, sir, an' the way it was, too."

"I know how that is, mother."

"May every Overcyn there be bless you for it, an' her too." The old woman was quiet awhile, lost in reminiscence.

"I got took, sir. The giants come looking for us, the way they does, sir, when the leaves turn an' they don't mind moving around. An' they found me. Hymir did, sir, my master what was. So I had to--had to do what I could for him, an'

get it all over me often as not, an'--an' Heimir got born, sir. My son that was. Only Master Hyndle's run him off now, or he'd help me, I know." She paused.

"He's not what you'd call a good-looking boy, sir, an' it's me, his mother, what says it. Nor foxy neither, and didn't talk 'til after he was bigger'n me. But his heart. . . You're a good-hearted man, sir. As good as ever I seen. But your heart's no bigger'n my Heimir's, sir. No woman's never had no better son."

"That's good to know."

"For me it is, sir. Ain't you getting tired, sir? I could walk a ways, an' you ride."

"I'm fine." The truth was that it felt good to stretch my legs, and I knew I owed the stallion a little rest.

"You've run quite a ways, an' it's a good ways more."

"I close my mind." I wanted to tell her, but it was not easy. "And I think about the sea, about the waves coming to a beach, wave after wave after wave, never stopping. Those waves turn into my steps."

"I think I see, sir." The old woman sounded like she did not.

"I float on them. It's something somebody taught me, or maybe just told me about and let the sea teach me, not magic. The sea is in everybody. Most people never feel it." Saying those things made me think of Ga.r.s.ecg, and I wondered all over again why Ga.r.s.ecg did not come to see me in Mythgarthr.

"It opened me up, it did, having my Heimir. So then we could if you take my 441.

meaning. Like a real wife should, sir, the regular way."

"You and the Angrborn who had taken you, mother? This Hymir?"

"Yes, sir. Not that I wanted it, sir. Hurt dreadful every time. But he wanted it an' what he said went in them days. So then I had my Hela, only she's run off. Master shouldn't touch her, her being his half-sister, only she's. . . Well, sir. You wouldn't say it, sir. She's got that big jaw they all have, sir. An' the big eyes, you know. An' cheeks like the horns on a calf, sir, if you take my meaning. Only good skin, sir, an' yellow hair like I used to, too. That yellow hair's why my master that was, that was her father, took me, sir. He told me that one time, so it was bad luck to me. Only if it'd been black or brown like most, probably he'd a' kilt me."

The hedgerow had ended, though the path had not, weaving its way among trees and underbrush bordering the river.

"There was times," the old woman muttered, "when I wisht he had."

"Is it your son Heimir we're going to meet?"

"Oh, no, sir. I don't know where he's at, sir. It's the man I told you about, him I was going to marry all that time ago. He's got took now, sir, if you can believe it. Got took for fighting them like he did, with a white beard, if you can believe it. An'--an' I hope your horse don't fright him, sir. The noise a' it, I mean." I smiled. "He clops along no louder than other horses, I hope, and somebody with guts enough to fight the Angrborn isn't likely to be afraid of any horse. Besides, he'll see you on his back, unless the moon--"

"Oh, no! He won't, sir. He can't, sir. It's--it's what makes him think, sir, deep down, you know ..."

The old woman sounded as if she were choking, and I glanced back at her.

"Makes him think what?"

"That I'm like I was back then, sir. You--you're young yet, sir."

"I know, mother. Younger than you can guess."

"An'just to have him think like he does, deep down . . . Oh, I've told him, sir. I couldn't lie about nothing like that. Only when he sees me inside a' himself--an' that's the only way he can, sir. . . ."

"You're young again. For him."

"Yes, sir."

"Sometimes I'd like to be young again myself, mother. Young outside as well 442.

as inside. I take it he's blind?"

"Yes, sir. They blinds 'em, sir, mostly. The men I mean. Big as they are, they're a-feared a' our men." The old woman's pride kindled new warmth in her voice. "So they blinds 'em, an' they blinded him, old as he was. He sees me, sir--"

Whining, Gylf had trotted out of the night.

I dropped the reins and laid a hand on Gylf's warm, damp head. "You found someone."

Although I could scarcely see Gylf's nod, I felt it.

"Dangerous?"

A shake of the head.

"A blind man with a white beard?"

Gylf nodded again.

From the white stallion's back, the old woman said, "Up there's where we meet, sir. See that big tree up against the sky? It's on top a' a little hill, only we got to go through the ford, first."

"We will," I told her.

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CHAPTER 65.

I'LL FREE YOU.

T he ford proved shallow when we reached it, its gentle, quiet water scarcely knee deep. On the other bank, I dried my feet and legs as well as I could with a rag from my saddlebag, and pulled my stockings and boots back on.

"It's deeper in the spring," the old woman explained. "It's the only place where you can cross, then. Will you help me down, sir?" I rose. "On the War Way I saw a ford so deep we didn't dare ride across it for fear we'd be swept away." I took the old woman by the waist and lifted her down. "We had to hold each other's stirrup straps and lead our horses, while the water boiled around us."

"You couldn't have got across, sir, in spring. Only the giants." I nodded.

"From here I'd better go ahead, sir. I'll walk fast as I can, if you'll follow me. You won't leave me, will you? I want you to see him, sir, an'--an' you an' him 444.

talk."

"I won't," I promised. "I need to speak to both of you about the road to U tgard."

"You an' your horse'll have to go pretty slow or else get to where he is afore I do."

I nodded as I watched her vanish into the night. Under my breath I said, "We'd better wait here for a minute or two, Gylf."

"Yep."

"Was there just the one old man?"

"Yep. Good man." Gylf seemed to hesitate. "Let him pet me."

"Was he strong?"

Gylf considered, "Not like you."

Some distance off, a hoa.r.s.e voice called. "Gerda? Gerda?"

"Close now," Gylf muttered.

"Close enough for him to hear her footsteps, anyway. And for us to hear him." I picked up the lame stallion's reins.

"Hungry."

"So am I," I conceded. "Do you think they might find a little food for us?

There ought to be tons in the house of one of the giants."

"Yep."

"Where is the house, anyway? Did you see it?"

"Other side of the hill."

I tossed the reins onto the stallion's neck and mounted. "There should be sheep and pigs and so forth, too. If worst comes to worst, we can steal one." I touched the stallion's sides with my spurs, and he set off at a limping trot.

"Got your bow?"

Bow and quiver were slung on the left side of my saddle; I held them up.

"Why do you want to know?"

"They blind them," Gylf said, and trotted ahead.

The hill was low and not at all steep. I stopped near the top to take a good look at the black bulk of a farmhouse a good way off that seemed, in the moonlight, too big and too plain.

"Over here, sir," the old woman called. "Under the tree."

"I know." I dismounted and led the stallion over.

445.

"Dog's here already." It was a man's hoa.r.s.e voice. "Nice dog."

"Yes, he is." Wis.h.i.+ng I had a lantern, I joined them, leaving the stallion to get whatever supper he could from the dry gra.s.s. "I'm a knight of Sheerwall Castle, father. Sir Able of the High Heart is my name."

"Able," the old man said. "I'd a brother a' that name." I nodded. "It's a good one, I think."

"His name's Berthold, sir," Gerda said. "Bold Berthold, they called him when we was young."

Ia a little spot of moonlight, I could see Bold Berthold's hand grope for hers, and find it.

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CHAPTER 66.