"If you, yourself, joined with me in meeting the Little Men and heard their answers," said Jim, "do you think they'd be reassured? Then you could tell them as much as I've told you. Would they be more certain, then, that I could get the Hollow Men to that place? I assume they'd take your word for the fact we captured the gold MacDougall was carrying with him; and that they wouldn't doubt that the Scottish King is planning an invasion of England through Northumberland."
"Both things would make a great difference," said Herrac. "If I tell them of these things, do you have time to get to the Hollow Men and also meet with the Borderers, themselves?"
"I think we'll make time, somehow," said Jim. "I say we, because I indeed planned to ask you, and Liseth, to go with me when I meet with the Little Men."
"I shall willingly go anywhere with you that will serve to bring this matter to a good end," said Herrac. "I feel—"
There was a knock on the door of the room. It opened without an invitation to enter; and a somewhat sweaty servant came in hastily, carrying a slab of wood bearing two pitchers and two cups. He came to the desk and set them down on its top.
"And where have you been all this time, sirrah?" thundered Herrac at the man.
The servant seemed to shrink by at least a third of his height.
"M'Lord…" he stammered, "the tray on which I usually bring pitchers and cups like this was not to be found. It took some extra time to find this piece of wood to serve in its place."
"Well you brought it now! Out with you!" snapped Herrac; and the servant vanished quickly, closing the door softly behind him.
Herrac poured two cups from one of the pitchers, both of which turned out to be full of wine.
"Where was I?" he asked himself. "Oh, yes, I'm willing to do anything that will aid in this endeavor. Certainly I can see the usefulness of the two of us together, meeting with the Borderers. Perhaps we should take Lachlan as well."
"I've no objection to that," said Jim, picking up his wine glass and sipping from it as Herrac poured half of his down his throat.
"As for the business of my going with you to meet the Little Men—I have no objection to that either," said Herrac. "But will they stand, when they see me coming? I'm not known along the Border as a particular friend of the Little Men—though not probably as a known enemy, either."
"They're not all that fearful," said Jim; and then he realized he had let a slightly ironic note creep into his voice, so he hastened to add, "particularly when we'll be approaching them in their numbers. We will also have Liseth and Snorrl to vouch for us. Now, I have made arrangements with your daughter to summon the wolf Snorrl, who should be here tomorrow morning. If he is, we should go right away to see what arrangements we can make with the Little Men."
Herrac frowned.
"Talk to the Little Men, before you speak to the Borderers?" he asked.
"It would take you several days to arrange a meeting for me with the other Borderers, wouldn't it?" Jim asked.
"That is true," said Herrac. "Still—
"If you'll forgive me," said Jim. "I believe that bringing the Little Men to agreement to this may be the more difficult task, since they're a different sort of people from us. Also, there's this matter of time. If we can get to the Little Men tomorrow, we'll have saved some days. And time looks to be rather short; for a number of reasons, but mainly because the Hollow Men were expecting the Scottish envoy in a few days, now. Also, they'll want him to meet with some of their representatives, first, before a meeting can be arranged with all of them together. Then, it'll take time to gather them all together in the place we want."
"Very well," said Herrac, yielding. He drained his cup. "Let it be as you say. The end is worth the means."
He pushed his cup from him and stood up.
"Now," he said, "let us both return to the Great Hall. Liseth will already have this MacDougall casting interested eyes in her direction. And I, as well as you, wish to observe his actions."
There was a note in Herrac's voice that boded ill for the MacDougall if he should cross the line of ordinary social courtesy where Liseth was concerned. Jim thought that Liseth had really had no need to worry on many counts—the least of these being Jim's utter lack of desire for her to do more than put the MacDougall in play—as it were.
Chapter Twenty-One
As Jim and Herrac approached the Great Hall, noises from it began to be heard above the sounds of the kitchen. Most unusual noises. Jim heard the plunking of some stringed instrument, along with a great deal of thumping and an occasional sound rather like a war-whoop.
Jim looked at his companion for an explanation. Herrac looked back at him a little sourly.
"My sons are dancing," he said. "Apparently MacDougall has put them up to this; and I wouldn't doubt but what Lachlan has had a hand in it, also, that wild Scot!"
They stepped into the Great Hall, and up onto the platform that held the high table. Only three people were seated at the table right now. One was Liseth, looking reserved as a maiden carved from ice, near one end of the table. Across from her sat Dafydd; and farther down the table on the same side as Liseth, MacDougall lounged, his face in an expression that nicely blended a mild curiosity and disdain. Somewhat the same look with which a person might watch performing fleas.
Down on the main floor alongside the lower table that stretched away toward the front entrance, in an open space, Christopher had produced a lute, and was now playing a tune on it while Lachlan was dancing.
Jim stared at him in a certain amount of amazement. He had seen Scottish dancers before, at fairs and festivals and special occasions. But by and large they had been young girls. Even in their case, he had marveled. They had seemed to float in the air, weightless above their pointed toes that just touched the ground; doing complicated things with their legs, meanwhile, and with one hand on a hip while the other was held up over their head.
Lachlan was doing the same thing. He had taken off his shoes; and in spite of the sounds of the impact of his weight against the wooden floorboards of the hall, he too—for all his size and muscle—seemed to be floating as he did the same sort of dancing. In a semicircle around these two were the other sons, one or the other occasionally twitching as if he would like to step out and dance himself.
Herrac sat down in his customary place at the center of the table, which put him closer to the MacDougall than to Liseth, and watched what was going on with a resigned air.
After a moment, Lachlan stopped and motioned forward one of the sons, who immediately began, himself, to dance, while Christopher went on playing. To Jim the dancer did not seem to be doing badly; but his brothers hooted with laughter. His face got red, but he went right on dancing, occasionally giving vent to the same sort of war-whoop that they had heard on the way in, and which had evidently been emanating from Lachlan.
Jim looked again at Liseth and MacDougall, as he took a seat between Herrac and Dafydd. MacDougall was just now sidling down the bench along his side of the table to Liseth. He spoke to her in a low voice. Only the fact that Jim was seated near her allowed him to catch what he said.
"If I could persuade your excellent young brother to play us a more sedate and courtly type of dance," MacDougall said in her ear, "would my Lady deign to tread a measure or two with me?"
Liseth did not turn her head.
"I've already informed m'Lord," she said in a voice that dripped distaste, "that I am not interested in speaking or having anything else to do with him, beyond what is my duty as chatelaine of this castle."
MacDougall gave a deep sigh and slid backward along the bench—but, Jim noticed, nowhere near as far away from her as he had been a moment before.
Since the Scottish envoy seemed to be doing nothing that Jim would have to notice, memorize, and in time imitate, Jim decided that he might possibly get another duty out of the way. He leaned over to Dafydd, and whispered in the bowman's ear, so quietly that no one else at the table could have heard.
"Dafydd," he said,
"could you step out with me for a moment? I need to talk to you."
Dafydd nodded silently; and as silently got up from the table. He and Jim went back through the kitchen and out behind it, into the empty corridor leading to the chamber where Herrac and Jim had talked.
Once he knew they were well away from all other ears, Jim stopped and turned to face the other.
"What caused all this dancing?" he asked curiously, before diving into the subject he had to discuss with Dafydd.
"M'Lord MacDougall," answered Dafydd; and it was impossible to tell from the cool tone of the bowman's answer whether he approved or disapproved of what he was talking about, "asked if by chance there was a lute or other such instrument around the castle. He offered to sing a few songs if this was so. It seems that Christopher, the youngest—
"Oh, yes," said Jim. "I know Christopher."
"Christopher had such a lute," went on Dafydd. "Not only that, but he could play it himself. Yet he brought it, tuned it, and m'Lord MacDougall sang us several songs, mostly through his nose, in such a strange manner that we could not make out half the words. Love songs, I think he said they were; and indeed, they were most mournful, which I take the loving of such as he to be."
"I see," said Jim.
"Then, after he had sung several songs, he invited one of the others to take the instrument and sing, but only Christopher could play the instrument; and he would not sing. Whereupon, Lachlan leaped up and said he might not be able to sing; but he could dance if Christopher would play for him. Christopher said he could. Then you came in a little after."
"I see," said Jim. "Well, that explains that. I was just interested to know what was going on. At any rate, that isn't the reason I asked you to step out here and talk with me, Dafydd. There's a far more serious matter."
"Indeed, James?" said Dafydd.
"Yes," Jim answered. "You know my plans for concentrating the Hollow Men in one place; and then attacking them with both the Borderers and the Little Men. Also, I plan, as you know, to pass myself off as MacDougall."
He paused. Dafydd nodded.
"Well," went on Jim, "it all needs to be done on a very tight schedule; and I can't afford to get held up at any one stage of setting up the battle. For example, what I've got planned for tomorrow has to go forward without any kind of a hitch; so that I've time to do the other things."
"If it be not done tomorrow," said Dafydd, "then it can be done another day, surely. If you will forgive me, James, I have noticed this in you many times before. You are over-concerned with time, and the possible lack of it. It is much better not to worry about such things, see you. If what we look for tomorrow comes not to pass, then something else will. We only have this one lifetime and it will wend its way as it chooses."
Jim had a sudden feeling of empty helplessness. Once again, he was up against a difference between fourteenth-century thinking and the twentieth-century thinking with which he had grown up. So many things beyond their control could interfere with the plans of people in that medieval time that they had come to consider it merely a fortunate chance if they happened to get where they intended, at the time they had originally expected to get there. In fact, as a result of these uncertainties, they simply, usually, did not expect to get something accomplished at any particular time at all. They would get where they were going when they got there.
"You're probably right, Dafydd," he said, "but I do very much want to see the Hollow Men destroyed and I want the Little Men and the Borderers to fight side by side for once and discover each other—as they will—which I think will be a good thing. Don't you think so, too?"
"Indeed it will, if it is to be," said Dafydd.
"You see, that's the point," said Jim. "It may be; and I see a chance of making more sure that it will be, if no time is lost in doing various things by way of preparation. Tomorrow, Snorrl the wolf should be here to lead us once more to the Little Men. Liseth is going out with me in the morning to meet him. I'm taking Herrac along as well, to speak to the Little Men in the name of the Borderers, if Snorrl agrees to take us all; which I now believe he will. Liseth has told me that he has never refused her anything before. I'd like you to come, too."
"I will always be glad to go anywhere you wish, if sobeit I am free to do so; and certainly I am now," said Dafydd. "But why would you be wanting me along with you tomorrow?"
"Why"—Jim found himself a little unsure as to how to phrase it—"you seemed to make a particular impression on the Little Men, the last time we met them. I was thinking that having you there on our side would serve to prove that what was planned was a good thing. Now, of course, if you don't want to seem to be agreeing with that for some reason, I'll understand."
"But I do agree, man," said Dafydd, with almost a little edge to his voice. "How can you think otherwise? For not only have I said that I think your ends are good ends; but we are Companions since the time of the Loathly Tower and before, and will be Companions therefore, as long as our lives last. Will we not?"
"Oh. Certainly!" said Jim. "It's just that I didn't want to impose on your friendship—
"Between us, James," said Dafydd gently, "there can be no talk of imposing, see you. I would that you not use that word to me again in making a request of me."
"Certainly. Gladly!" said Jim, feeling as if he had blundered horribly, and at the same time not quite sure what he had done wrong. "It's just that I had to ask you and—damn it, Dafydd, I'm doing the best I can with everybody in this matter. And it's all mixed up. For one thing, we have to be careful to keep it secret from Brian that this is going forward; otherwise he'll insist on being with us."
"He will be with us in any case," said Dafydd, "or after us—if he discovers we are gone after we have already left. He will need to be told he cannot go before we leave, if that is what you wish."
"I plan to tell him before we leave," said Jim. "I'll explain that I do plan to take him along, on horseback, to the battle, if he's able to come with us by that time. I've never seen anything like the way he's healing. He may be so well by that time that not taking him will be ridiculous."
"Indeed, I think that is how it will likely be," said Dafydd. "Very well. Shall I find you in the morning, or will you find me?"
"You're better at waking up early than I am," said Jim. "Particularly, you're better at waking up at a certain time than I am. Would you come and wake me up as soon as the sky begins to brighten? And then we will wait in my room until Liseth comes for us or—"
A sudden thought struck him.
"Perhaps we should go and wake Herrac first and then come back to the room."
"That will be very well," said Dafydd. Abruptly he smiled warmly at Jim. "Look not so glum, m'Lord. Things will go well tomorrow; and if they do not, it shall be no fault of ours. What more can men ask?"
"Perhaps you're right," said Jim.
"Indeed I am," said Dafydd. "Now, what is your will? Do we stay here, go someplace else, or return to the hall?"
Jim roused himself to current necessities.
"We go back to the hall," he said. "I've got to watch that damn MacDougall until he does some things that I can imitate once I've made myself over to look like him."
He led off, and Dafydd went with him.
"To be sure, you are now beginning to swear somewhat in the English style," said Dafydd. "And I must say, m'Lord, it appears well in you. Frequent oaths, such as Sir Brian uses, have their use in getting rid of the noxious humors within a man. And, concerned as you are for many things, you have no lack of such humors to get rid of."
"You don't swear much," said Jim, casting a sideways glance at him as they once more reentered the hall.
"Ah," said Dafydd, "but that is because I am a man of Wales; and, like the Little Men and as you mentioned about them, we Welshmen, too, have different needs and different ways."
They found their places back at the high table, and were welcomed there by Herrac, who had been sitting gloomily by himself and drinking; since there was nothi
ng else to do. He passed them both cups and filled them. Down on the floor, one of the other brothers was now dancing—or trying to dance—with instructions and orders from Lachlan, who clearly had no high opinion of any of these boys when it came to getting up on their toes and moving as he, Lachlan, had.
Jim sat and watched Ewen MacDougall. But Liseth was still being an ice-maiden, which puzzled Jim seriously. This was not exactly the reaction he had asked of her. Happily, in time he remembered Angie his wife, occasionally saying pretty much the same sort of thing Liseth had when the de Mer chatelaine had warned him to trust her, even if she seemed to be acting in a way that he did not expect. Clearly, what she was doing now, she evidently thought would bring the MacDougall to heel earlier.
And, in fact, thought Jim, watching them, to a certain extent it seemed to be working. As the afternoon wore on, MacDougall became more and more a suitor. And, gradually, Jim saw Liseth apparently seeming to thaw under this concentrated pressure.
In the end, she finally agreed to tread a single measure with him, of a more courtly dance. It turned out Christopher knew only one tune that would suit itself to that sort of dance. But he played this; and MacDougall decorously led Liseth at arm's length through the paces of the dance, explaining the moves as he made them. Whether she really needed this instruction, Jim could not make up his mind. But she followed MacDougall's directions docilely enough.
However, once the dance was over she returned to being an ice-maiden, at her end of the bench; and continued that attitude through dinner and up to the point where she left for bed.
Jim followed shortly thereafter. The time he had set for getting up in the morning was early, even though he had adjusted to fourteenth-century standards to a certain extent. He knew, particularly after the amount of wine that he could not avoid drinking without giving offense to his hosts if he stayed, he would feel like death warmed over when Dafydd finally came to wake him up in the cold pre-dawn.
The Dragon on The Border Page 24
