The Complete Lyonesse Part 31

"Other hungry gentlemen have made similar compromises. We shall steal side by side, so that neither may scorn the other. And I suggest, that if at all possible we steal from the rich, though the poor are somewhat easier prey."

"Circ.u.mstances must guide us.. .Dogs are barking. There is a village ahead, and almost certainly a smithy."

"At this hour of the night he will be soundly asleep."

"A kindhearted smith might rouse himself to help a desperate group such as ours."

"Or we might rouse him ourselves."

Ahead the houses of a village showed gray in the moonlight. The streets were empty; no light showed save from the tavern, from which came the sounds of boisterous revelry.

"Tomorrow must be a holiday," said Garstang. "Notice in the square, where the cauldron is ready to boil an ox."

"A prodigious cauldron indeed, but where is the smithy?"

"It must be yonder, along the road, if it exists."

The group pa.s.sed through town and near the outskirts discovered the smithy, at the front of a stone dwelling, in which showed a light.

Aillas went to the door and rapped politely. After a long pause, the door was slowly opened by a youth of seventeen or eighteen. He seemed depressed, even haggard, and when he spoke his voice cracked with strain. "Sir, who are you? What do you want here?"

"Friend, we need the help of a smith. This very day we escaped the Ska and we cannot abide these detestable collars another instant."

The young man stood irresolutely. "My father is smith to Vervold, this village. I am Elric, his son. But since he will never again work his trade, I am now smith. Come along to the shop." He brought a lamp and led the way to the smithy.

"I fear that your work must be an act of charity," said Aillas. "We can pay only the iron of the collars, since we have nothing else."

"No matter." The young smith's voice was listless. One by one the eight fugitives knelt beside the anvil. The smith plied hammer and chisel to cut the rivets; one by one the men arose to their feet free of the collars.

Aillas asked: "What happened to your father? Did he die?"

"Not yet. Tomorrow morning is his time. He will be boiled in a cauldron and fed to the dogs."

"That is bad news. What was his crime?"

"He committed an outrage." Elric's voice was somber. "When Lord Halies stepped from his carriage, my father struck him in the face, and kicked his body and caused Lord Halies pain."

"Insolence, at the very least. What provoked him so?"

"The work of nature. My sister is fifteen years old. She is very beautiful. It was natural that Lord Halies should want to bring her to Fair Aprillion to warm his bed, and who would deny him had she a.s.sented to his proposal? But she would not go, and Lord Halies sent his servants to bring her. My father, though a smith, is impractical and thought to set things right by beating and kicking Lord Halies. He now, for his mistake, must boil in a cauldron."

"Lord Halies-is he rich?"

"He lives at Fair Aprillion, in a mansion of sixty chambers. He keeps a stable of fine horses. He eats larks, oysters, and meats roasted with cloves and saffron, with white bread and honey. He drinks of both white and red wines. There are rugs on his floors and silks on his back. He dresses twenty cutthroats in gaudy uniforms and calls them 'paladins.' They enforce all his edicts and many of their own."

"There is good reason to believe that Lord Halies is rich," said Aillas.

"I resent Lord Halie," said Sir Garstang. "Wealth and n.o.ble birth are excellent circ.u.mstances, coveted by all. Still, the rich n.o.bleman should enjoy his distinction with propriety and never bring shame to his estate as Lord Halies has done. In my opinion he must be chastised, fined, humiliated, and deprived of eight or ten of his fine horses."

"Those are exactly my views," said Aillas. He turned back to Elric. "Lord Halies commands only twenty soldiers?"

"Yes. And also Chief Archer Hunolt, the executioner."

"And tomorrow morning all will come to Vervold to witness the ceremony and Fair Aprillion will be deserted."

Elric uttered a yelp of near-hysterical laughter. "So, while my father boils, you rob the mansion?"

Aillas asked: "How can he boil if the cauldron leaks water?" "The cauldron is sound. My father mended it himself."

"What is done can be undone. Bring hammer and chisels; and we will punch some holes."

Elric slowly took up the tools. "It will cause delay, but what then?"

"At the very least your father will not boil so soon." The group left the smithy and returned to the square. As before all houses were dark, save for the yellow flicker of candlelight from the tavern, from which issued a voice raised in song.

Through the moonlight the group approached the cauldron.

Aillas motioned to Elric. "Strike!"

Elric set his chisel against the cauldron and struck hard with his hammer, to create a dull clanging sound, like a m.u.f.fled gong-stroke.

"Again!"

Once more Elric struck; the chisel cut the iron and the cauldron no longer was whole.

Elric cut three more holes and a fourth for good measure, then stood back in mournful exaltation.

"Though they boil me as well, 1 can never regret this night's work!"

"You shall not be boiled, nor your father either. Where is Fair Aprillion?"

"The lane leads yonder, between the trees."

The door to the tavern opened. Outlined against the rectangle of yellow candlelight, four men staggered out upon the square, where they engaged in raucous repartee.

"Those are Halies' soldiers?" Aillas asked.

"Quite so, and each a brute in his own right."

"Quick then, behind the trees yonder. We will do some summary justice, and also reduce the twenty to sixteen."

Elric made a dubious protest. "We have no weapons."

"What? Are you folk of Vervold all cowards? We outnumber them nine to four!"

Elric had nothing to say.

"Come, quick now!" said Aillas. "Since we have become thieves and a.s.sa.s.sins, let us act the part!"

The group ran across the square, and hid in the shrubbery beside the lane. Two great elms to either side filtered the moonlight to lay a silver filigree across the road.

The nine men found sticks and stones, then waited. The silence of the night was only enhanced by the voices across the square.

Minutes pa.s.sed, then the voices grew louder. The paladins came into view, lurching, weaving, complaining and belching. One called out to Zinctra Lelei, G.o.ddess of the night, that she might hold the firmament more steady; another cursed him for his loose legs and urged him to crawl on hands and knees. The third could not control an idiotic chortle for a humorous episode known only to himself, or possibly to no one whatever; the fourth tried to hiccup in time with his steps. The four approached. There was a sudden thudding of feet, the sound of hammer breaking into bone, gasps of terror; in seconds four drunken paladins became four corpses.

"Take their weapons," said Aillas. "Drag them behind the hedge."

The group returned to the smithy and bedded down as best they might.

In the morning they rose early, ate porridge and bacon, then armed themselves with what weapons Elric could provide: an old sword, a pair of daggers, iron bars, a bow with a dozen arrows, which Yane at once took into custody. They disguised their gray Skaling smocks in such old torn or discarded garments as the smith's household could provide. In this style, they went to the square, where they found a few dozen folk standing aloof to the sides, scowling toward the cauldron and muttering together.

Elric discovered a pair of cousins and an uncle. They went home, armed themselves with bows and joined the group.

Chief Archer Hunolt came first down the lane from Fair Aprillion, followed by four guards and a wagon carrying a beehive-shaped cage, in which sat the condemned man. He kept his eyes fixed on the floor of the cage, and looked up only once, across the square to the cauldron. Behind marched two more soldiers, these armed with swords and bows.

Hunolt, halting his horse, noticed the damage done to the cauldron. "Here's treachery!" he cried. "Breakage upon his Lords.h.i.+p's property! Who has done this deed?" His voice rang around the square. Heads turned, but no one answered.

He turned to one of his soldiers: "Go you, fetch the smith."

"The smith is in the cage, sir."

"Then fetch the new smith! It is all one."

"There he stands, sir."

"Smith! Come here at once! The cauldron needs mending."

"So I see."

"Repair it on the quick, so that we may do what must be done."

Elric replied in a surly voice: "I am a smith. That is tinker's work."

"Smith, tinker, call yourself what you like, only fix that pot with good iron, and quickly!"

"Would you have me mend the pot in which to boil my father!"

Hunolt chuckled. "There is irony here, agreed, but it only ill.u.s.trates the impartial majesty of his Lords.h.i.+p's justice. So then, unless you care to join your father in the pot, to bubble face to face-as you can see there is adequate room-mend the pot."

"I must fetch tools and rivets."

"Be quick!"

Elric went to the smithy for tools. Aillas and his troop had already slipped away up the lane toward Fair Aprillion, to prepare an ambush.

Half an hour pa.s.sed. The gates opened; Lord Halies rode forth in his carriage with a guard of eight soldiers.

Yane and Elric's uncle and cousins stepped out into the lane behind the column. They bent their bows, loosed arrows: once, twice. The others, who had remained concealed, rushed out and in fifteen seconds the killing was done. Lord Halies was disarmed and, ashen-faced, pulled from the carriage.

Now well-armed, the troop returned to the square. Hunolt stood over Elric, ensuring that he repaired the cauldron at best speed. At near range Bode, Quails, Yane and all the others who carried bows, loosed a flight of arrows and six more of Halies' paladins died.

Elric struck Hunolt's foot with his hammer; Hunolt screamed and sagged on the broken foot. Elric struck at the other foot with even greater force, to crush it flat, and Hunolt fell writhing upon his back.

Elric released his father from the cage. "Fill the cauldron!" cried Elric. "Bring the f.a.ggots!" He dragged Halies to the cauldron. "You ordained a boiling; you shall have one!"

Halies staggered and stared aghast at the cauldron. He babbled entreaties, then screamed threats, to no effect. He was trussed up, knees high and seated in the cauldron, and Hunolt was placed beside him. Water filled the cauldron to cover their chests and fire was given to the f.a.ggots. Around the cauldron the folk of Vervold leapt and capered in a delirium of excitement. Presently they joined hands and danced around the cauldron in three concentric circles.

Two days later Aillas and his troop departed Vervold. They wore good clothes, boots of soft leather and carried corselets of the finest chain mail. Their horses were the best the stable at Fair Aprillion could provide, and in their saddle-bags they carried gold and silver.

Their number was now seven. At a banquet Aillas had advised the village elders to select one from among their number to serve as their new lord. "Otherwise another lord of the neighborhood will arrive with his troops, and declare himself lord of the domain."

"The prospect has troubled us," said the smith. "Still, we at the village are too close; we know all each other's secrets and none could command a proper respect. We prefer a strong and honest stranger for the office: one of good heart and generous spirit, one who will mete fair justice, levy light rents and abuse his privileges no more than absolutely necessary. In short, we ask that you yourself, Sir Aillas, become the new lord of Fair Aprillion and its domains."

"Not I," said Aillas. "I have urgent deeds to do, and already I am late. Choose someone else to serve you."

"Sir Garstang then would be our choice!"

"Well chosen," said Aillas. "He is of n.o.ble blood; he is brave and generous."

"Not I," said Sir Garstang. "I have domains of my own elsewhere, which I am anxious to see once more."

"Well then, what of you others?"

"Not I," said Bode. "I am a restless man. What I seek is to be found in the far places."

"Not I," said Yane. "I am one for the tavern, not the hall. I would shame you with my wenching and revelry."

"Not I," said Cargus. "You would not wish a philosopher for your lord."

"Nor a b.a.s.t.a.r.d Goth," said Faurfisk.

Quails spoke in a thoughtful voice: "It would seem that I am the only qualified possibility. I am n.o.ble, like all Irishmen; I am just, forbearing, honorable; I also play the lute and sing, and so I can enliven the village festivals with frolics and antics. I am generous but not grandiose. At marriages and hangings I am sober and reverent; ordinarily I am easy, gay and lightsome.

Further-"

"Enough, enough!" cried Aillas. "Plainly, you are the man for the job. Lord Quails, give us leave to depart your domain!"

"Sir, the permission is yours, and my good wishes go with you. I will often wonder as to how you are faring, and my Irish wildness will give me a twinge, but on winter nights, when rain spits at the windows, I will hold my feet to the fire, drink red wine, and be happy that I am Lord Quails of Fair Aprillion."

The seven rode south along an old road which, according to folk at Vervold, swung southwest around the Forest of Tan-trevalles, then turned south eventually to become the Trompada. No one at Vervold had ventured far in this direction-nor any other direction in most cases-and no one could offer sensible information as to what might be encountered.

For a s.p.a.ce the road went by haphazard curves and swoops; left, right, up hill, down dale, following a placid river for a time, then angling away through the dim forest. Peasants tilled the meadows and herded cattle. Ten miles from Vervold the peasants had become a different sort: dark of hair and eye, slight of physique, wary to the point of hostility.

As the day progressed the land became harsh, the hills abrupt, the meadows stony, the tillages were less frequent. Late in the afternoon they came to a hamlet, no more than a group of farmhouses built close together for mutual protection and simple conviviality. Aillas paid over a gold piece to the patriarch of one household; in return the troop was provided a great supper of pork grilled over vine cuttings, broad beans and onions, oat-bread and wine. The horses were fed hay and stabled in a barn. The patriarch sat for a time with the group to make sure that all ate well and relaxed his taciturnity, so much that he put questions to Aillas: "What sort of folk might you be?"

Aillas pointed around the group: "A Goth. A Celt. Ulfish yonder. There a Galician"-this was Cargus-"and a knight of Lyonesse. I am Troice. We are a mixed group, a.s.sembled, if the truth be known, against our will by the Ska."

"I have heard speak of the Ska," said the old man. "They will never dare set foot in these parts. We are not many, but we are furious when aroused."