Jim started. For some reason the Accounting Office voice always had a tendency to make him want to jump, whether he did or not.
"How much do I have left in my magic account?" he asked. "Enough for the slight amount of invisibility and disguise I want to do tomorrow?"
"That will depend on how long you continue in your disguise," said the Accounting Office. "Do you have any more questions?"
"No," said Jim glumly.
It was silent in the room. Jim thought grimly that he might as well never have asked the question. It left him right back where he had started. How long was too long? He did not know. Now, for the first time it occurred to him that possibly the Accounting Office did not know, since the amount of time he would have to be in the disguise depended on the amount of time that he would have to act the part of Ewen MacDougall, before the attack took the Hollow Men's attention off him.
After that he could snap his helmet's visor down over his face; and start, with Dafydd's and perhaps Brian's help, to try to fight his way off the ledge—out through the Hollow Men and the encircling Little Men and Borderers, to safety.
The sun had abandoned the arrow slits of his room; and within, it now was gloomy with a darkness like that of late twilight. He would be leaving the room in any case, so there was no point in lighting the cresset. He went to the door, opened it, and started down to the Great Hall.
He would be a little ahead of the rest of the crowd, he told himself as he descended the winding stairs; but there would be no harm in that. When he got there, however, he was surprised to find the number of others who were there before him. In fact, Herrac and all his sons, except Christopher, were already at the table; as were Dafydd and Brian. Ewen MacDougall was missing.
"Where's MacDougall?" asked Jim as he joined them.
"For the moment, he is in his room," said Herrac. "I have set a strong guard on the door. I told him flatly that I had private business and he would be kept where he was until I felt like freeing him again. He has food and drink and the cressets will keep him warm. Servants have orders to replenish the fuel, and empty his chamber pot, if sobeit needs it. Let us forget him now. The others will be here shortly. Meanwhile, I would counsel all at this table—" He looked hard at his sons, who seemed to shrink, as they always did, when he regarded or addressed them directly. "—that we relax, take our minds off tomorrow, and appear as indifferent to what is before us as possible. We do not want to give those who come to join us here the idea that we may have been doing some planning or plotting when they were absent."
"An excellent idea, Sir Herrac," said Brian. He yawned and stretched out his legs, quite naturally relaxed. "After all, it will be a merry day tomorrow. I look forward to it!"
"I fear you have more of a taste for battle than many of us, Sir Brian," said Herrac. "Yet you set a good example. I myself will try to take my mind off why we are meeting here tonight and what is coming tomorrow."
Liseth came in at that moment and joined them, sitting down at the table.
"You may stay with us now, Beth—" Herrac rumbled. It was the first time Jim had heard her addressed by what must be a short, familiar form of her name. He liked the sound of it.
"Thank you, Father," said Beth swiftly.
"—But you will leave us as our first guest arrives—as your dear mother would have known to do without being asked," Herrac went on.
"Yes, Father," said Liseth, but with less pleasure in her voice. "Fear not. I will be the proper chatelaine and lady."
"That is all I wish for you—and for my sons," said Herrac. "That you be forever a lady, and they be forever gentlemen; and eventually knights, both worthy and brave."
"I know, Father," said Liseth, more gently. She was sitting close enough to him on the other side of the table to reach across and lay a hand for a moment on one of his massive forearms. "None of us will ever disappoint you. You know that."
"I believe I do know it," said Herrac. He broke off, suddenly, looking past her down toward the entrance to the Hall. "And here comes the first of our guests. You may stay long enough to greet him, Liseth."
"Yes, Father."
She stood up, stepped back from her bench, and turned to face the oncoming figure. It turned out to be William of Berwick, who smiled as he saw her.
"Ha!" said William of Berwick as he came up to her. "No longer the little Beth I used to toss in the air and catch again! It is good to see you grown into a beauteous woman, Lady Liseth."
"Thank you, Sir William." She gave him a small curtsy. "But I must leave you men now for other concerns. If you want for anything, the servants are close and listening." She turned her face to those at the table. "Good night to you all."
"Good night, Liseth," said her father; and she went off down the back steps from the platform that held the High Table and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.
"Sit down and take some wine, Willie," said Herrac. "You're welcome."
"By St. Peter!" said William, taking a bench and accepting the wine cup that Herrac poured full for him. "And I would not like to doubt it, as I see your sons have grown in equal measure as your daughter!"
He emptied the cup in one long swallow and when he set it down Herrac filled it again. William took it up and drank lightly from it, and then held it in mid-air with his elbow on the table.
"I passed none on the road," he said, "but I believe all will be here. Sir John the Graeme has been chiding into brighter spirits those who might have been laggard in joining us."
"He is well on our side in this, then?" said Herrac.
"Indeed!" William took another good-sized drink from his cup, but continued to hold it with his elbow propped on the table. "Did you think he would be jealous of your commandership? He does not think you will make a habit of it, Herrac. We all know where your heart lies, and it is not in leading other men into battle. And, beyond that, all know you to be the best knight we could have to command us."
"That is so. That is very so!" burst out William, the next youngest son after Giles. William of Berwick looked at him rather sourly.
"I spoke of the men," he said, "not of the boys."
"Do you say my brothers, the sons of Herrac," snapped Giles, his thick blond mustache suddenly bristling, "are not to be allowed to speak at this meeting, although they will fight well enough with the rest of us tomorrow? Is that your meaning, Sir William? If so, I, as one of those sons and a belted knight, do not take it kindly!"
"Ha!" said Sir William, but in a conciliatory tone. "I meant no attempt to lump you among the boys, Sir Giles. Also, you have caught me fairly. My words were unfair to your brothers. Let them speak as they will; and I, at least, will make no objection henceforward."
"Then all is well." Herrac's voice intruded on the argument and Sir William's apology. "Sir William has acknowledged that he might be in error most graciously, Giles. I bid you mark it for your own education, knight though you are, already. But look, here come others of those bidden to our meeting."
They all looked toward the entrance; and, in fact, four men were coming together down along one side of the long lower table, and another one coming through the door behind them. In spite of himself, Jim felt an alertness and a tension building in him. The meeting was about to get underway.
There seemed, Jim noticed as he sat there and watched the hall fill up, a knowledge of some sort of relative rank among those who were to be there. The seats at the high table were avoided by most of the newcomers, who seated themselves at the long, lower table. Only the upper side of the high table was occupied, so that no one would be seated there with his back to the men seated below. Herrac had his usual middle seat at the table. To his right was Dafydd, in his persona as Prince Merlon, taking that place by right of rank. To his left was Jim, then Brian. Beyond them the rest of that end of the table was filled up with Sir Giles and Herrac's other sons.
All the seats to the right of Dafydd had been left empty. Now, however, Sir William of Berwick, who had at first sat down oppos
ite Herrac at the table when he had been the first arrival, got to his feet and came around to sit also on the upper side of it. He stopped short a few steps from Herrac.
"Now what the Devil's this?" he said, staring at the seats on the other side of Dafydd.
Jim leaned back from the table to look past Herrac himself. For the first time he noticed that the other first five benches had been replaced with some that had legs long enough to bring them almost up to the table itself. Only beyond them were the benches of normal height. Herrac turned his head to look at the other knight.
"Wullie," he said, "those are to be the seats for our five representatives from the Little Men. Take the bench beyond if you will, or perhaps leave that for Sir John the Graeme and take the one beyond it."
Sir William chose the second seat of normal height. But as he sat down he stared hard at Herrac.
"Are they all five to sit at the high table?" he demanded. "When the larger share of our own good knights must sit below the salt?"
"This side of the table is for my family and the leaders," answered Herrac. "All five of the Little Men—since their number are held down to that—are leaders equal to those who sit beside me among our own people. So, they all have their seats ready for them."
Sir William said nothing more, but he turned away, reached for his wine cup and refilled it with every appearance of disapproval.
Herrac ignored the other's reactions and the hall continued to fill up. Occasionally, one of those who came in would come up and take a seat that was open at the high table to the right of Sir William. One of these—the memory of the name came back to Jim almost by accident—was Sir Peter Lindsay, one of the Lindsays who were strong in the district.
He was only slightly taller than Sir Giles, but, like Dafydd, so well proportioned that he seemed taller. His shoulders were straight and broad, his waist narrow and his thirty-year-old face was shrewd, with bright blue eyes under light brown brows and sharp features around them.
Gradually the hall filled, and the high table filled. One of those arriving within moments of Sir William having reseated himself was Sir John Graeme, who took the seat just to the right of those reserved for the Little Men. Unlike Sir William of Berwick, he did not comment on the seats; evidently taking in at a glance who they were for, and why.
The other Borderers continued to stream in. When what Jim counted to be the last of them was inside and seated at the lower table, with general conversation and wine drinking going on, the door opened and the five Little Men came in together.
They brought silence into the hall. Within less than a minute as, one by one, the Borderers perceived them, the seated men fell quiet. As for the schiltron-leaders, with Ardac at their head they walked up the hall, around and up to the high table, saw the seats that were prepared for them there, and seated themselves.
The silence persisted. It took Herrac's voice to break it.
"His Highness, the Prince of Merlon," said Herrac, his voice reaching to the limits of the hall, "the Baron Sir James de Bois de Malencontri et Riveroak, and our allies of the Little Men, led, I believe by Ardac, son of Lutel—" He glanced for a moment at Ardac, who nodded imperceptibly. Herrac turned back to look at the hall before him. "—and all others bidden to this meeting, now seem to be here. I therefore declare all ready for discussion of our attack tomorrow against the Hollow Men."
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Once the discussion was open, Jim was a little surprised at the businesslike air of it. A great deal of the looseness, shouted interruptions, and other elements that had gone into meetings of these fourteenth-century people that Jim had been involved in before, were absent.
It reminded him of a time shortly after he had come to this world, in his pursuit of a way to save Angie and bring her back to the twentieth century. A time in which he, Dafydd, Brian and some local people, including the wolf Aargh, were engaged in getting ready early in the morning for an assault on the enemy-occupied castle of Brian's lady, Geronde Isabel de Chancy—an assault that was to begin at sunrise. At that time it had been nothing but business for everyone concerned. To the point where Brian had politely, if definitely, suggested that Jim take himself and his dragon body outside, someplace out of their way, and leave them to their preparations.
Herrac began by announcing the time and place of their meeting in the woods short of the meeting place of the Hollow Men, and the handing out of crude, but comprehensible, maps. Those who did not know the way were put in touch with a party that did. A count was taken of the fighting men that each there could bring to the battle.
When all had been counted, Herrac himself pledged a hundred and twenty-three men, which considerably surprised Jim, since he had seen nothing like that number of men-at-arms around the castle itself. Then he reminded himself that Herrac's lands undoubtedly held a great many more who could be called to arms if needed—and were already alerted to be so on the morrow.
When Herrac had finished, Sir John the Graeme spoke up.
"We have yet to hear," he said, and his own voice reached everyone in the hall, "from our allies, the leaders of whom are here now with us. Perhaps they will tell us of the numbers they can bring and assure us that they will be there when needed."
It was not quite a challenge, considering the structure of the meeting, but its intent was clearly a challenge and everybody in the hall knew it.
Ardac turned his head and looked down along the line toward Sir John, then faced the hall.
"We will bring to the fight eight schiltrons of one hundred and fifty spearmen each," he answered, "counting also those who lead them and making a total of twelve hundred fighting men in all—which is, I believe more than the total number the rest of you have promised to bring."
Once more, Jim was impressed with the deepness of the Little Man's voice. That, and the fact that he now sat on a taller bench than that of the full-sized men around him, made him seem little different from the other leaders on either side of him.
"A schiltron is normally organized into six ranks of twenty spearmen across," he went on. "For the purposes of making sure we are able to completely encircle the Hollow Men, so that none shall escape, we will for this encounter divide each schiltron in half—giving us sixteen schiltrons of three ranks only."
"Do you—" Sir John Graeme was beginning, when Ardac cut him off.
"By your favor, Sir John," he said, "I am not yet finished. We will not meet with the rest of you at the place where you have planned all together before moving up toward the assault on the Hollow Men. But our leaders will meet with your leaders, there—once you are so gathered. Otherwise, you will not see any of us until you are up close, yourselves encircling the place where the Hollow Men are met. We have our own way of moving through the woods and its manner need not concern you. The only thing that need do so is that you can be certain you will find us in position when you move up behind us, ready for the attack on the Hollow Men."
He paused and looked down the table past Herrac toward Dafydd.
"The Prince Merlion"—once more he pronounced Dafydd's rank and name properly, so that for the first time most of those in the hall there heard the musical sound of it—"is to be our leader in this matter. Consequently we wish him to return with us tonight and set out with us tomorrow so that you will also meet him for the first time tomorrow when you have moved up into position around the place where the Hollow Men are gathered."
"Forgive me, Ardac, son of Lutel," said Dafydd. Again, his soft voice seemed to carry as it did when he wanted it to. He was clearly being heard by everyone. "I will be your leader, and represent you in all things. But I cannot go with you tonight nor move with you tomorrow. I will not be with the attackers. I will be with Sir James Eckert de Bois de Malencontri on the ledge as he begins to hand out the gold wherewith the Hollow Men expect to be paid. You have all been given your map of that clearing; and you know how there is a rocky ledge at the base of a part of the cliffs that will hold us two or three feet above the floor of th
e main clearing. Sir James must be there to hold the attention of the Hollow Men, and I must be with him."
"And I," said Sir Brian. "Sir James will not be on that ledge without me—I promise you!"
"And I!" said a harsh voice.
Out of nowhere a dark form materialized and leaped up onto the surface of the high table. It was Snorrl, the wolf, come from some dark shadowed corner of the hall.
He had leaped up on the end of the table in front of Christopher, the youngest of Herrac's sons; and now he moved down nearly the half length of it, to put him before Jim. There he stopped and turned to face those in the hall. "I am Snorrl, a Northumbrian wolf. Some of you may have known of me, or have heard me when I sing on frosty nights. I will be on that ledge as well; because the Hollow Men fear wolves as the rest of you fear all things of darkness. Those of you who did not know that before, know it now; because I have just told you."
He opened his jaws for a moment and laughed at them in his silent way.
"So," he went on, "now that you have been educated by Snorrl, whose people owned this land before any of your kind ever came here, I will leave you to your foolish talk. Let no one try to follow or find me. He who does will find it the worse for him!"
As he said the last words Snorrl turned around with a scratching of his claws on the table top, leaped over Jim's head to the floor behind him, and was suddenly gone.
—As suddenly as he had appeared within the building, where he had given Jim and the others to understand that he would never come.
The silence was complete within the hall. Not only the Borderers but the Little Men themselves stared in Jim's direction like people hypnotized.
"Perhaps," said Jim, when the silence had gone on so long that it was threatening to become embarrassing, "I should say a few words at this point. I am, as you all know, a magician as well as a knight. You haven't seen me working magic, because magic is not worked lightly. When you see me next, however, I'll look differently. While I am on the ledge handing out the gold, I will be dressed as Ewen MacDougall, the Scot King's envoy to the Hollow Men, is dressed, and I will be wearing his face. I may make some other small magic, but that does not concern you. I tell you about myself now, because once the Hollow Men are encircled and as soon as they've been driven in far enough for you Borderers to move in, and take advantage of the lanes the Little Men will open for you through their ranks, I will know that you are driving to consolidate the victory that they have begun."
The Dragon on The Border Page 33
