Merlin's Ring

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Merlin's Ring Page 11

by H. Warner Munn


  “Yonder exults the dwergarl” cried Huon, “They have chased out the Worm!”

  Since Worm, in Merlin’s books, was almost a synonym for dragon, Gwalchmai understood that meaning first, in view of the creature’s immense size.

  He did not realize immediately that the term was even then in disuse and almost archaic, until a vast shadow covered them all and darkened the whole meadow. A flying creature, as broad-pinioned as the roc of Araby, dropped down from the mist-hidden sky and seized upon the monster that so endangered them with its heaving convulsions.

  Then, as the serpent rose into the clouds, twisting and writhing hi the beak that held it—even in its agony giving out no sound—Gwalchmai recognized that it actually was what it had been named. For, dwindled by distance into its proper dimensions, he saw it to indeed be a worm, firmly gripped by a robin on her way to feed her young.

  Horror and dismay came to Gwalchmai. He realized for the first time his true and severe predicament, coming thus to a knowledge of his minute present size in Elveron. If this robin and its prey were as others of their kinds were, and he had no reason to doubt it, remembering tke shrinking of himself to a height necessary to enter Elveron’s portal —then he and the elves were tiny almost beyond belief.

  He had ridden through a worm hole into Elveron. These were the tunnels the dwergar used! He had passed through a forest aboveground, which, to a mortal, was only grass. How now was he ever to complete his mission by accomplishing the task Merlin, through tke spae-wife, had set him?

  How could he hope to grasp the hilt of Excalibur, or lift and carry such a massive weapon as it was to him now, and place it in Arthur’s tomb?

  How could he even find it? For to him, in his present size, the relatively small island of Mona was larger than the entire continent of Europe!

  The ^Blasted Heath

  When the scattered assemblage merged, there was excited discussion and a babble of voices. The riders regrouped, falling into line in order of rank and precedence. Gwalchmai looked down into the moat, as they rode over the drawbridge.

  Beneath it a swift current flowed, but it seemed to be more a luminescent gas than liquid, for it heaved up in large slow waves that were carried along for some distance before they subsided. Riding these rollers and plunging through them, sylphs and nereids swam and played in gay sporting.

  All seemed to be carefree, but there was an indefinable nervousness about tkem that made him feel that only inside the castle was there enough security for the fay and their kindred to be unconcerned about the dwergar and the dark brood they controlled.

  In the open space, between moat and wall, the people dismounted and handed over the horses to waiting stable boys, who led tkem away. Tken the Queen and her ladies passed like a group of living flowers through the portcullised gateway in the second line of battlemented walls, and Gwalch-mai, Huon, and Sir Periton followed into the inner bailey.

  This was a much larger place, paved with onyx and jasper instead of the fieldstone of the outer fortifications, but protected by a barbican manned by alert elfin warriors armed with longbows and silver axes. Obviously here nothing was left to chance.

  Gwalchmai was ushered into a suite of rooms that had been made ready for him. The furniture was delicate, but strong, made of grass stems that looked like bamboo and was upholstered in cushions smelling of rose leaves but filled with dandelion down.

  He bathed in a large tub, seashell shaped, and felt refreshed. A decanter of wine, as yellow as a buttercup, and a platter of cookies, nuts, and fruit were set conveniently by. The stand for the repast looked like half a pink pearl brought to a high polish and its tripod legs were purplish sea urchin spines.

  Mindful of Merlin’s adjuration, he did not touch the viands, nor did he feel hungry or thirsty.

  The light in the suite came from illuminated ceilings. There were no lamps, but the light came on when he was escorted in and faded out when he left to go down, in Huon’s charge, to the banqueting hall.

  This was a huge shadowed room. At first Gwalchmai could hardly see to the far end of it. Then the luminous cloud that had hidden the high celing brightened. This appeared to be the customary manner in which all lighting was maintained in Elveron and it now occurred to Gwalchmai that all the land was covered by this same dense glowing mist in the form of a shielding dome.

  He knew much time had passed, yet he could not tell if it were night or day, for through the cloud he could not see stars, moon, or any brighter glow shining through it which would indicate the position of the sun. He felt that here it would be very easy to lose all track of time. Already he could not imagine how long he had been in this ‘ ensorceled land.

  As the honored guest, he had been seated high toward the head of the board, where were grouped his new acquaintances. The long table was laden with delicacies in all the forms food can take, but there were joints of meat Gwalchmai had never seen and he suspected that they came from animals unique to Elveron and unfamiliar to himself.

  The fruits he recognized, but they were enormous in size and one elf and his lady were feasting together upon a single slice of a huge grape. Goblets were continually being emptied and refilled and an animated buzz of conversation filled the hall as feasters were being served and trenchers of translucent amber replenished.

  Clearly this was a sprightly people who were accustomed to making merry and who enjoyed good living. They kept their places while dining, but die restlessness was evident that he had observed on the, journey.

  There was a good deal of joking back and forth along the table and Gwalchmai came in for his share of the merry quips. He was teased because of the dark ruddiness of his skin; he was plagued by his neighbors because of his clothing—for he had changed into robes of turquoise and scarlet, woven from spider silk, after his perfumed bath and his uneasiness in such delicate fabrics was apparent.

  These neighbors, on either side of him, were an exquisite pair of ladies. A fay, in rainbow gown, sat at his left and a visiting nixie, in an almost transparent gauze tinted with gold and emerald, at his right. They vied in the selection of dainties to tempt him and pouted prettily when be would partake of nothing.

  When a toast was offered, he raised his goblet, but did not touch it to his lips. When he set it down it was immediately carried away and replaced with a different wine. The aroma and bouquet of these various wines made his head swim as though he had actually imbibed and he began to see the assemblage through a rosy haze and himself in a different light.

  Surely he was showing himself a boor in abstaining. The temptation was exceedingly strong, but the geas that Merlin had placed upon him was stronger. A thought came to en-courage Mm in his resolve to obey it: His companions were lovely, but he knew a lovelier. Beyond the environs of Elf-land, she trusted and waited for him to return.

  He ate and drank nothing, but smiled and nodded to those who spoke to him and wished him well and drank to his health and success to his mission—for that was as dear to their desire as his.

  No one seemed to be offended. Nadara, the fay, offered him candied rose petals, but ate them herself without urging him.

  As drinks were replaced, she described their qualities, their ingredients, and their flavors in superlatives that made him regret his forced abstinence.

  Cyrene, the nixie, the most mischievous of the pair, tormented him more than once by touching his arm when he pretended to drink and caused him several times to spill a few drops upon his rqbe or on the table. Her own robes were faintly dewed as blossoms are, just before the first rays of the sun jewel them with limpid pearls, for she was a water sprite and could not long abide away from moisture.

  This outing was obviously a great treat to her and she seemed intent upon making the most of the short time she could dwell upon dry land. She would clap her little hands and laugh when the wine drops fell, as though this was what she had meant to do all along, and those who were watching laughed with her.

  Gwalchmai took the joking as it was inte
nded. There was fun and good humor here and no malice. Life was all a game and he was among the merriest group of players he had ever chanced to meet. Fuzzily he was aware that the mixture of these many fumes was making him drunk, but he was obeying his geas to the letter. He had imbibed nothing. He-had not tasted a single crumb.

  He felt pride in himself. Merlin should be proud of him too. As for Corenice! He doubted that she would believe his tremendous powers of endurance in withstanding so many temptations in so many intriguing forms, in which he realized quite clearly that both Nadara and Cyrene were included. Their languishing glances told him that. He was very drunk.

  Finally the feasting was over. The food was cleared away and a new set of goblets and decanters were brought. The musicians tuned up for dancing to begin.

  At intervals there was entertainment. Jugglers performed and there were, singers and story-telling. Much wine was drunk and the air was thick with its perfume, for this wine had no lees. Heather ale was served hi huge tankards and with every round the merrymakers became more gleeful, clamoring for this one and that of the company to perform his or her specialty, for it seemed that each had something to offer.

  Nadara danced, shedding layer upon layer of her gauzy garments. She refused to let the last flutter away, although enthusiastically coaxed to do so. Even so, her perfect form shone rosily through it, as clearly as Cyrene’s, who certainly would have been unable to compete in like manner for any length of time.

  Gwalchmai was called upon, after all had drunk to Na-dara’s health. He had already considered what he might do and was not unprepared. He selected one of the many bucklers hanging on the wall, emblazoned with the arms of their owners, and looked up and down the board until he caught the eye of the elfin knight who possessed it.

  The knight nodded that Gwalchmai might do as he would with it He hung it carefully upon one of the rhododendron lop that formed the roof pillars, took careful aim with his flint ax, which he had carried for a sidearm as the others wore their thorn poniards, and split it in equal halves at a distance of fifty feet.

  All the knights carried axes when they rode to battle, but they were of hard wood or oyster shell, good for a chopping blow but lacking the weight necessary for throwing. The distance, the accuracy, and the power Gwalchmai displayed was a surprise to them.

  The warriors pounded the table with their tankards and roared- at the discomfiture of the buckler’s owner, who fingered it ruefully, but then laughed with the rest of them and took it in good part. ‘

  Rich sweetmeats of bee balm were brought on and golden pollen bread, cut hi little wafers to be eaten with the preserved tips of honeysuckle blooms, but Gwalchmai let them pass by with regret.

  While Cyrene declaimed a long and involved tale concerning a pixy who pinned a diaper upon a sleeping bumble bee and the unfortunate events that followed, the goblets were refilled—this time with a ruby drink that smelled like ambrosia.

  When she had finished and sat down to the laughter and applause of the company, Nadara nudged him and whispered, “Surely you will drink to her. This is the very rarest of all wines in Elveron! It is made from the berries of the Quicken tree and inspires one with cheerfulness. If one of Man’s World were a centenarian and ate but three of these, he would return to the age of thirty. They taste like honey— but the wine! Do but try a single sip? For me?”

  She raised the goblet to his closed lips, as the other drank deeply.

  At that instant Cyrene turned and saw him. She paled to a pretty olive color instead of her natural emerald hue and reached for his arm as she had done before.

  The liquid in the goblet spilled and although Gwalchmai had no intention of drinking any of it, a drop spattered on his lip and instinctively he licked it off with the tip of his tongue.

  It was sweet, far sweeter than any liquid he had ever tasted. That single marvelous speck of elvish wine made his head swim. The room raced around him; the gay voices rang hi his ears with musical clarity; all his senses seemed sharpened; in fact, everything he saw was bathed in a new glamour.

  The exhilaration that swept over him he knew now to be the normal feeling held constantly by all in Elveron, enhanced only by the excitement of this particular event. He understood their febrile restlessness. He felt himself one with the merry crowd of f casters.

  He understood the nixie’s words, but they made no immediate impression upon him.

  “Oh, Sir Hawkl What have you done? She has played a trick upon you! The Quicken and the Rowan tree are one and the same. The Rowan is called Thor’s Helper,‘ because it bent of itself so Thor could catch hold of it and cross the flooded river Vimur. She must be Thor’s friend. Now you have placed yourself in the hands of Thor!”

  He would have answered in some way, but an interrupting clamor arose of stamping and clapping. Huon, whom everybody liked, had risen to accept his challenge to entertain and some were calling for one song of his own com-posing and some for another, for he was famous for his singing^

  A page hurried in with Huon’s cithern and he tuned it by ear, then swept his hand across the strings and held it up for silence.

  “What shall I sing?” he asked.

  One clear voice rose above the others. “The Song of the Unseeing Human!” In a chorus of laughter, he began:

  “I feel so bored,” complained Louella-May,

  “Nothing at all has happened today!”

  And yet at that moment, in the walls of her house,

  A fairy was trying to saddle a mouse,

  And a battle was raging all over town

  To see which would conquer—the black rat or brown!

  And the earth had rolled millions of miles on its way.

  “Wish something would happen!” pouted Louella-May.

  She sat there unseeing and looked out forlorn

  At her neighbor’s scarecrow who stalked through the corn.

  She took off her dress and made ready for bed And a pixy tweaked out three hairs from her head To weave for himself, while everyone slept, A charm ‘gainst the werewolf that nightly had crept For a month ’neath her window—fearing no lead— Since only by silver might his foul life be sped!

  A bat flew by, but she never knew

  Twas really a witch a-gathering rue!

  Nor that an elf was squashed when she dropped her shoe!

  1 ‘Ou-whei!’ wailed O’Keefe’s banshee, But she thought it the wind in the apple tree. . While under her feet, working night and day, The termites were lugging the house away. “Things don’t happen to me!” muttered Louella-May.

  It was after this song that the really heavy drinking began. There was other entertainment to watch, for it seemed that each one of the banqueters had some specialty. Girls in gorgeous colors imitated butterflies, and it seemed to Gwalchmai’s blurred vision that as their arms waved their

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  fluttering robes, they rose into the air and flew. There was a juggler who had no respect for the laws of gravity. A contortionist imitated a green lizard and slithered about the floor, and if he was not boneless, surely his bones were not like those of men. Two elves fought a duel, but it was a contest of skill only and no one was scratched.

  All the while Sir Huon and Sir Periton were matching tankard for tankard across the table, satisfied with their complete comradeship, paying little attention to the ladies they had escorted.

  Nadara, the fay, pouted prettily and rose to leave the table, for her elf was already snoring beneath it, having consoled himself copiously with heather ale because of her neglect of him.

  Gwalchmai could hardly stand, but he chose to make his own excuses at this time, for many others, both knights and ladies, were pushing back their chairs.

  He bowed in the direction of the Queen, who returned the courtesy, and turned to go. The fumes of the ale and wine struck him forcefully and he would have fallen had not the nixie, who appeared to consider herself his confidante for the evening, supported him on the one side and Nadara on the other.

 
Between the two, he was guided to his chambers. He tumbled into his down-soft bed, hardly knowing where he was. He felt little hands loosening his belt and- ax, removing them, taking off his boots and outer robe. The mist that-lighted the room went dim and, still fading, went dark. He heard a whispered quarrel. There was the sound of a slap.

  Only one of the girls went out, crying, he was sure, for he knew when the coverlets were drawn tenderly over him. When the mist shone again, indicating that morning had come, he had a dim memory that he had not been alone during the night, but whether this was so, or who it had been, or what if anything had happened, he could not remember.

  He had only a feeling that there were few bounds to Elveron’s hospitality.

  There was no difference in the appearance of the sky when he looked out of the window. Thinking that the color of it might indicate either sunrise or sunset, he found that what he supposed to be a crystal pane was instead a thin slice of rose quartz, set in gold instead of lead. He swung the window wide and the perfumed breeze of Elfland swept in upon him. It was as exhilarating as mountain air.

  He had no feeling of hunger and his head was clear. He was well rested and had, apparently, slept a long time. It must be late afternoon, he thought.

  He was not aware at that time that in Elveron it was always summer and always late afternoon. But night was coming for the fay and this he was soon to learn.

  He had not been awake very long, although he had bathed and dressed, when Huon came to summon him to an audience with the Queen.

  Gwalchmai studied him narrowly. His guide seemed no worse for the heavy imbibing. Elves had harder heads than men—that was certain!

  He found Queen Crede in the throne room, alone except for Prince Auberon, who arose and greeted him. As unfamiliar as Gwalchmai was with protocol or European royal custom, it was easy for him to bow and wish the young prince good morrow, as from one equal to another.

  The Queen did hot rise, but sat studying him, her hands clasped hi her lap. She smiled with a gracious sweetness that put Gwalchmai instantly at ease.

 

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