Part 51 (1/2)
”I chant my spell against death-magic,” said Travec.
”Ah bah, it is nothing! Go to it, Kegan! A glimpse only; no harm can come of it!”
With one long yellow thumbnail Kegan lifted the soapstone lid. He bent his head, so that his thin crooked nose almost entered the crack, and peered within. Then slowly he drew back and lowered the lid.
Cory demanded: ”Well then, Kegan! Do not keep us in suspense! What did you see?”
”Nothing.”
”So why all the drama?”
”It is a fine toy,” said Kegan. ”I will carry it upon my horse and take it away, as my little keepsake.”
Cory gave him a wondering stare. ”As you like.”
At noon of the following day the two companies departed Neep Meadow and rode down Glen Dagach. Where glen opened upon low moor, the parties separated. Cory, the five in his company, and the guide: a sallow sly-eyed stripling named Idis struck off to the northwest to arrange their ambush. Torqual, with his thirty-five warriors, continued westward toward Willow Wyn gate. For two hours they waited in the shelter of a forest, then at dusk continued along the road: down over the low moors and into the valley of the river Win.
The company rode at a carefully regulated pace, so that just as the first light of dawn brought substance to the land, the troop entered the park surrounding Castle Green Willow and rode along the stately entry drive, between parallel lines of poplar trees.
The troop rounded a bend, to halt in consternation. A dozen knights, mounted on chargers, blocked the road, lances at the ready.
The knights charged. The bandits turned in confusion to flee, but a similar group of knights blocked the road to the rear. And now, from behind the poplars, stepped archers, to pour volley after volley into the screaming outlaws. Torqual on the instant turned his horse to the side, burst through a gap in the poplars and crouching low, galloped like a madman across the country side. Sir Minch, who commanded the troop, sent off ten men in pursuit, with orders to track Torqual to the ends of the world if necessary. Those few outlaws who still survived he condemned to death on the spot, to save the toil of as many hangings. Swords were raised; swords fell; heads rolled, and Torqual's troop and his dreams of empire were at the same time dissolved.
The ten warriors pursued Torqual up Glen Dagach, where he rolled rocks down upon them, killing two. When the others arrived upon Old Neep Meadow, they found only the serving women and a few small children. Torqual and Melancthe had already fled by secret ways up toward the high moors and the chasms at the back of Mount Sobh. At this time there was no point in further pursuit, even though Mount Sobh was not yet the ends of the world.
V.
At Lyonesse Town all was in flux, what with King Milo, Queen Caudabil, and Prince Brezante due to arrive for a three-day visit, and a festival suddenly ordained in their honour. The festival had been conceived by King Casmir, after his hopes for an advantageous betrothal had gone glimmering. His enthusiasm for the visit had cooled, and he was especially reluctant to entertain his guests at a succession of long, bibulous banquets where King Milo, a noteworthy trencherman, andQueen Caudabil, only slightly less redoubtable, regaled themselves upon course after course of fine viands and great quant.i.ties of Castle Haidion's best wines. King Casmir thereforeproclaimed a festival at which there would be all manner ofsports, games and compet.i.tions in honour of the royal visitors: the high kick, the broad vault, footraces, wrestling, throwing the stone, sparring with padded staves on a plank over a mud pit, which would also be used at tug-of-war trials. There would be dancing of jigs, hits and rounds to music; bull-baiting, anarchery contest and jousting with buffed lances. The program was arranged so that King Milo and Queen Caudabil were constantly occupied, listening to panegyrics, judging contests, awarding prizes and applauding winners, consoling losers and granting awards. To all of these events, King Milo and Queen Caudabil, as royal sponsors, must give their keen attention, leaving no time for long and lavish feasts, at which King Milo might test his prodigious capacity for wine. The two instead must hurriedly nourish themselves at collations of cold ham, bread and cheese, with flagons of stout ale to wash down the hearty and inexpensive fare.
King Casmir was pleased with his stratagem. He would be spared endless hours of utter boredom; further, the festival would demonstrate his benevolence and royal jocundity. There was no way he could avoid the welcoming banquet, nor the farewell feast-though the first might be truncated on the pretext of allowing the royal family time to recover from the rigors of the journey. Perhaps the second as well, reflected Casmir, on similar grounds.
Preparations for the festival were at once put into effect, in order that gray old Lyonesse Town might be transformed into a setting for antic frivolity. Bunting was draped and banners raised around the periphery of the King's Parade, and a platform erected for the convenience of the royal families. At the side of the quadrangle, beside the Sfer Arct, a rack would support two great tuns of ale which each morning would be broached for those who wished to salute either King Milo, or King Casmir, or both.
Along the Sfer Arct booths came into existence, for the sale of sausages, fried fish, pork buns, tarts and pastries. Each booth was required to drape its visible sections with gay cloths and ribbons, and shops along the avenue were enjoined to do like wise.
At the appointed hour King Milo, Queen Caudabil and Prince Brezante arrived at Castle Haidion. In the van rode six knights in gleaming dress armour, with black and ocher pennons flying from their lances. Another six knights, similarly accoutered, brought up the rear. In a lumbering unsprung vehicle, more wagon than carriage, King Milo and Queen Caudabil sat on a wide upholstered couch, under a green canopy hung with a hundred decorative ta.s.sels. Both Milo and Caudabil were portly, white-haired, round and florid of face, and seemed more like canny old peasants on the way to market than the rulers of an ancient realm.
To the side rode Prince Brezante on an enormous bay gelding with a peculiarly large high rump. Perched on this great animal, Brezante, who was plump and pear-shaped, made no gallant first impression. His nose hung from a narrow back sloping forehead, to droop over his full mouth; his eyes were large, round and unblinking; his black hair was spa.r.s.e, both on his scalp and at his chin where he entertained a small indecisive beard. Despite all, Brezante fancied himself a cavalier of romantic appeal and took great pains with his garments. He wore a doublet of russet fustian, with sleeves of puff-pleated black and red stuff. A jaunty red forester's cap sat aslant his head, with a raven's wing for a panache.
The column came down the Sfer Arct. A dozen heralds in scarlet tabards and tight yellow hose stood six to each side of the way. As the carriage pa.s.sed, they tilted their clarions to the sky and sounded a welcoming fanfare. The carriage turned from the Sfer Arct, into the King's Parade and halted before Castle Haidion. King Casmir, Queen Sollace and Princess Madouc stood waiting on the terrace. King Casmir raised his arm in amiable greeting; King Milo responded in kind, as did Prince Brezante, after a glance toward Madouc, and so the royal visit began.
At the evening banquet, Madouc's protests went unheeded and she was required to sit with Prince Brezante at her left and Damar, Duke of Lalanq, to her right. During the meal, Madouc sat staring straight ahead at the fruit centerpiece, seemingly unaware of Brezante, who never gave off peering at her with his round black eyes. Madouc spoke little, responding to Brezante's facetious sallies with absent-minded monosyllables, to such effect that Brezante at last lapsed into scowls and sulks, to which Madouc was serenely indifferent. From the corner of her eye she noticed that both King Casmir and Queen Sollace pointedly ignored her conduct; apparently they had accepted her point of view, and now, so she hoped, she would be left in peace.
Madouc's triumph was of short duration. On the next morning, the two royal families went down to the pavilion on the King's Parade, that they might witness the beginning of the compet.i.tions. Once again Madouc's explanations that she preferred not to join the party went for naught. Lady Vosse, speaking on explicit behalf of Queen Sollace, declared that Madouc must partic.i.p.ate in the ceremonies, and without fail. Scowling and fretting, Madouc marched to the pavilion and plumped herself down beside Queen Caudabil, in the chair intended for King Milo, so that Milo sat at Caudabil's other side and Brezante was forced to take himself to the far end of the platform, beside King Casmir. Again Madouc was pleased, if somewhat mystified, by the lack of response from King Casmir and Queen Sollace to her self-willed conduct. What was in the wind, to cause them such portentous restraint?
The answer to her question was not long in coming. Almost as soon as the royal party had been seated, Spargoy the Chief Herald, stepped to the front of the platform, to face the crowds which filled the quadrangle. A pair of young heralds sounded that fanfare known as 'Call to Attention!', and the folk in the King's Parade became silent.
Spargoy unrolled a scroll. ”I do accurately read and recite the words of that proclamation issued on this day by His Royal Majesty, King Casmir. Let all give full heed to the import of these words. I now begin.” Spargoy opened the scroll and read:
I, King Casmir, Monarch of Lyonesse, its several territories and provinces, declare in this fas.h.i.+on: