Swan Knight's Sword

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by John C. Wright


  Ygraine was startled because her eye had not seen through the misty cloak, so the body prone on the grass had been invisible to her. Now, in the raw sunlight, was the broken and motionless corpse of the monster clearly seen.

  Ygraine was overcome with emotion. She sank down to her knees, crossed herself, and clasped her hands in prayer.

  Gil looked on, wondering. But when Ygraine raised her eyes and Gil saw the gratitude and joy shining in them, he realized his mother was praying a prayer of thanksgiving. “May Heaven be praised for granting you this victory over so terrible a foe!”

  Gil said, “You doubted me…?”

  Ygraine said, “Of course. It is a mother’s joy and burden to care for her son. Guynglaff is cunning and fell, and had he used his wits and called upon the many terrors that serve him, you would not have survived. Even the Swan Knight, your father, could only fight him to a standstill, and that was by a miracle, for the ghosts of the dead rose up to aid the Swan Knight in battle and pulled the roof of the cave down over the cave mouth. Did either of you yield or call halt during the combat?”

  Gil shook his head a curt shake.

  Ygraine smiled again. “It is as I hoped.”

  Gil said, “Why?”

  She said, “It means that, although over a year and many miles sever you when first you slew his vile steed from beneath him in the shadow of the Christmas tree, that this is still the same battle, still one.”

  Gil said, “So?”

  Nerea said, “So therefore the charm which comes from the first blood shed by a hero is yours.”

  Ygraine gave Nerea a look of respect. She smiled. “I see Glaucon’s daughter is not unwise! She speaks truly. The charm is yours. But you must use it prudently, for such good fortunes are fleet of foot, nor do they tarry, nor do they come again.”

  Gil said, “Will I gain some new blessing, like the gift of my eye to pierce illusions, my ear to resist the wiles of elfsong, my tongue to convince skeptics that I speak the truth?”

  She said, “No, but you will share a gift you have, for weal or woe. What is the difference between a blessing and a curse?”

  “Please, ask me no riddles. Just tell me what would you have me do, Mother? That is all I need to know.”

  “The kings of the elfs have met in feast, as is their custom, from Christmas to Epiphany. Nine of the twelve days of Christmas have passed, but my sons and husband keep the feast. You must go to them.” Ygraine brought out a bottle that was carved from a single gigantic diamond, and the liquor within was as bright and clear as moonlight on a cloudless midnight. “Here is wine irresistible to elfs, for in it is distilled the nimbus light of higher realms before their exile and contains the taste of hope their tongues know not on Earth.”

  Gil said, “I take it back. You have to tell me more than just what to do. Where did you get that bottle? For that matter, where did you go? The night I was arrested, I mean.”

  “I was warned by certain signs that the Faceless Man was breaking into my house and that the pine tree in my house could not keep him away, but I knew no servant of Arthur would hurt you. I dared not let him see me, so I donned my celestial swan-robe and fled. Among the shattered towers of Sarras I came upon a hermitage, where a company of holy sisters dwell in prayer, widows of the dead city, weeping for the sins of man. From the hand of the abbess, who often in dreams has concourse with angels and knows things Heaven hides from men, I was given this precious gift of wine.”

  “What is the wine for? It is not for me.”

  “It is for your honor. I would have you win your due from them and the honor you are owed.”

  Gil said, “You told me not to reveal my name.”

  “Reveal it now.”

  “What has changed?”

  Ygraine said, “Beyond all hope of mine, you have found Arthur and swore to him, not to some lesser and wicked lord; and won your spurs from the Green Knight, which is an excellence and a dignity even elfs will not dare scorn; you fought all comers on the bridge; and overcame your deadliest foe; and my nightmare of so many restless years is put to rest forever and aye. You once boasted that I would need no longer protect your life, as you would protect mine. That day is come. My doubts are done.”

  Gil felt a strength enter his heart and settle into his bones at his mother’s words, and it did not depart from him.

  Ygraine said, “Now then! All that remains is the world pay you your due honors.”

  “Do I need honors from the world?”

  Ygraine said, “You are not a monk, but a knight, and the fear of your name is half of your might in arms. The Night World will not meddle with you hereafter if all is done as I advise. Take a drop of blood from the heart of the dead yeti and mingle it into this wine bottle.”

  Nerea said, “Allow me.” From a medical pouch filled with simples and crystals she took a hypodermic needle.

  Nerea rubbed the iron nail over the chest of the yeti. Her metal razor would not cut the hair, so she used a sharpened clamshell to shave a small circle above the heart. She raised the needle in both hands and drove it into the chest in a blow as straight and true as Gil had ever seen a knight to do.

  Nerea spoke as she worked. “For a pericardiocentesis, the needle is inserted between the fourth intercostal space between the ribs. That is done to remove excess fluid from the pericardium putting pressure on the heart. I suppose it would be the same in this case. There is no medical procedure where a living patient has a puncture made in his heart.”

  Ygraine whispered to Gil, “Saved your life, did she? You are fated to be happier in matters of the heart than I, it seems. Cherish this one, and do not let indifference, or jealousy, or folly come between you.”

  Gil heaved a huge sigh of relief he had not realized he had been waiting to sigh.

  He had not known that he had feared his mother might dislike his girl.

  3. The Peppercorn

  Ygraine took out from her bodice a small silk purse, which she passed to Gil. She said, “Now there are a few more matters to decide. Despite having lived a life of despicable poverty among low and uncouth menials, lady am I in great landholds, appurtenances, and rents, and fealty is due me in my own name. For seven years and more, Lord Alain le Gros, my lord and husband, has declared me dead. When Elaine of the Sea wed Garis le Gros, her issue was Alain, who is my nephew. I have flown across the sea and appealed to the Pope in Rome, and my case was well received by the Jesuit Clerk Regular the Holy Father has set aside to receive petitions from the Twilight Folk, Father Ramon Ruiz-Sanchez. So my false marriage is annulled ab initio. Do you understand me?”

  Gil said, “No. I liked it better when you talked in riddles. You married your nephew, but not my father?”

  She said, “How can one scarlet with sins be yet innocent as the unblemished snow? Why is it unlawful to call any living man damned? Why is it lawful to call even the best of living men damnable?”

  Gil said, “Stop, please. Go back to talking in declarative sentences peppered with archaisms, obscure references, and law Latin.”

  “In this pouch is the peppercorn due and owed to Erlkoenig of the Elfs for the sustenance of the land, and I have here a writing describing the metes and bounds. Once my name is cleared of the falsehoods and felonies blackening it, demand of Alain le Gros the keys to the Tower Dolorous, so called for my weeping when I was first abducted to be his bride. It is set far from the heart of Corbenec, in the dismal waste called Terregaste, that none would hear and pity. That tower and the lands and rights appurtenant thereto were given me as my bride-price. By your hand I shall have again what is mine.”

  Gil said, “How about declarative sentences that declare things more simply?”

  She said, “Alain le Gros both was never lawfully wed to me and also abandoned the marriage by the pretense and false accusation that I had fled from it, driving me out by threatening you, so his rights lapse. The Tower Dolorous and lands surrounding are yours. With this peppercorn, I pass my rights to you.”

&n
bsp; And she handed him the little bag.

  Gil said, “After this day, it will be the Tower Dolorous no more, but its name shall be called the Tower Joyous, in remembrance of this one evil that was made right: that my mother who wept there was vindicated.”

  Ygraine said, “While the world endures, such small victories are given us only to remind us that joy is not native to this world and cannot long here endure. Such moments of triumph are meant only to strengthen our hearts against sorrows to come, as foreshadow and surety of the final triumph, when the bars of time are snapped, and we shall enter into eternity with endless rejoicing.”

  4. Four Last Things

  She said, “There are last things to do: first, you must go to confession and be shrived.”

  Gil nodded. The cathedral of Saint Francis de Sales, where Foxglove the Witch’s prentice had recovered her own true name of Susan, was but a few moments away at the speeds Rabicane could run.

  She said, “Second, you must summon your father’s swan boat and arrive at Mommur in her. For only thus will the doorwardens be unable to deny you entrance.”

  Gil said, “The boat is too small to port my horse, Rabicane. Where can a horseman go without his horse?”

  Ygraine said, “You must summon the swan boat nonetheless.”

  Other preparations were made and other words said, but finally the hour came when Gil put one foot into the cold and rushing stream and lifted the horn of Roland to his lips.

  The sound rang as loud as the shock of a thunderclap, echoing off far mountains, but as sonorous to the ear as the peal of the church bell and as bracing to the heart as only the voice of the trumpet crying out to all brave things to defend all fair things can be.

  5. Hound, Steed, Skiff

  The swan boat was there in less time than it took for Ygraine to pray her rosary. The boat was more than thrice the size it had been before and now had a poop deck and canopy, and now the number of swans pulling it was thirty-six. Their necks were arched with grace; their wings shined with beauty; their eyes gleamed with pride.

  Ruff the dog was in the bow of the boat, his forepaws against the head of the cupid bowsprit, and he was barking.

  “Hey! Hey! I knew it was you who was holding the bridge here! But I was in Canada! Do you know how hard it is to hitchhike as an unaccompanied dog? I had to clobber the dogcatcher and steal his truck! And they all drive on the wrong side of the road in America! My legs were too short, so I just put a brick on the accelerator, and that worked just fine for a while, I guess. So I knew it was you! I knew! I know everything!”

  Gil made a trumpet of his fingers and called across the waters, “The Green Knight’s green horse is your brother Vertifran in disguise.”

  Ruff’s ears drooped. “I didn’t know that! Is he a better spy than me?”

  Gil shouted back, “Everyone says you are a terrible spy! Give it up and get an honest job! Knight’s hound.”

  Ruff’s ears perked up. “Wait! What? What? Have you got spurs? Are those spurs on your feet? Have you got spurs on your feet? Are you a knight?”

  Ygraine said, “He seems agitated by your remarks. Tell him his counterespionage deflected the attention of Dr. McGuire and preserved me from harm. Dr. McGuire was my guest once at Corbenec, and she feared me.”

  Ruff would not wait for the boat to make landfall, so he jumped over the side and splashed noisily to the bank, shaking himself enthusiastically and spraying everyone with water. Then, he leaped up and put his muddy paws on Ygraine’s beautiful white robe so enthusiastically that she toppled backward. The dog licked her face.

  Ygraine, on the ground and looking upward, said with perfect dignity, “We shall get along famously, Sgeolan son of Iollan. You have my blessings for the good you have done my son and the loyalty you have shown him.”

  Gil grabbed Ruff by the scruff of his neck and hauled him off his mother. “Bad dog! Bad!”

  Ygraine sat up, her clothing now muddy, but her face as serene and calm as ever. “Chide him not. Without him, what would have become of you? Dirt washes out. Trueheartedness runs to the core of the soul.”

  Gil helped her to her feet.

  Ygraine said, “This was the third thing. I had to meet your hound before I dared send him with you. I do not know how you found it in the heart of a sneaking spy of the enemy, but where you have found it, keep it. More precious than gold is faithfulness. He walks among men. Can he touch iron, cold iron, unharmed?”

  Ruff said, “Is this your mom? Is this her? Oh, I am going to like her.”

  Rabicane said, “Who is this mongrel?”

  Ruff said, “Him, not so much.”

  Gil said, “Hush! Rabicane, this is Ruff. A knight without a horse is nothing, and a boy without a dog is less than nothing, so I forbid any quarrel between you two. If you love me, you will love each other….”

  Horse and hound looked at each other warily.

  “Or at least find a way to fake it.”

  Rabicane said, “Am I not the steed of Astolpho, foal of the steed of Charlemagne? The ways of courtesy are known to me. I can falsify good will as well as a cat.”

  Ruff said, “With me it’s all or nothing. If you are in the pack, you are all the way in, and we live and die as one.”

  Rabicane looked away. “Your simple, vulgar honesty shames me, brute.”

  Ruff said to Gil, “He’ll come around. A few fights against bad guys, once he sees how smart and brave I am, he’ll come around. I am smart! I am a smart dog!”

  Gil said, “And you know where the court of the elfs is being held? Where is Mommur this year?”

  Ruff said, “I know. I also knew you would call your boat again, so I got the swans to let me have a ride. I told them I was yours.”

  Gil looked at Ruff and Rabicane, Ygraine and Nerea, and said, “You are all mine. Nerea, you want to come watch?”

  Nerea shook her head. “Into Mommur itself? I will stay and talk with your mother.”

  Ygraine said, “Do you have anything to wear to pass unremarked among men?”

  Nerea looked down at her skintight black diving suit. She lifted up one of her small, well-formed naked feet and pointed at her toes. “I have feet!”

  Ygraine said, “Come. I will find something. You can come with me to the coffee shop after we visit my apartment. I have to change for my shift. Have you ever ridden in a motor vehicle, child? One called a bus? It is most exhilarating. Even after all these years, the speed and the noise, the smoke and commotion are quite thrilling!”

  Gil said, “What? What are you talking about? You are not going back to work at that cruddy little job! I have gems studding my armor that could buy a mansion!”

  Ygraine said, “I want to give Flo enough time to find a replacement. It is only polite. Should I leave her shorthanded? How shall it be if my good fortune becomes her misfortune?”

  Gil said, “Who is Flo?”

  Ygraine said, “Ah! That is a deep question. Who is any immortal soul? Will she not outlast the stars themselves? I see I taught you well….”

  Gil said, “No, that was not a riddle. Who is…?”

  Ruff was licking his own back leg. He looked up and said, “Florence E. Grundy is your mother’s manager and part owner of the coffee house and wine bar where she works. You want I should tell you her social security number? Since your mom is paid in cash, off the books, she cheats her.”

  Gil said to Ygraine, “You are now a lady of Elfland again! You have a tower and everything! All the glories of Elfland are yours again for the asking…”

  Ygraine said, “I am a Moth. I am of the Twilight, neither of the Day nor of the Night. I belong to neither world. The glories of Elfland are snares and falsehoods for the unwary. I send you there not that you should gain glory but that you should gain strength. Why your father put that sword in your hand, I do not know, but I can see that a high and terrible destiny is yours. But that is a worry for another day. Let us do well this day the duties given us now. You must go to Mommur and I to the c
offee house.”

  Gil said, “And then?”

  “That is the fourth thing I came to say. And in a week, or when Flo has a new girl, I will return to Sarras in the Summer Stars, to where the abbess holds reign over the ruins.”

  Gil said, “But, Mom! But… but… I mean, I am sure there is room in this tower you are giving me, isn’t there? So I thought…”

  She said, “You thought that you and I would share a roof? That I should tend and mend, and guard and guide? Those days are past.

  “You are a man.

  “I knew you were a boy no longer the day you were cast out of school because on that day you chose for yourself, prudently, open-eyed, and not recklessly, to disobey the law in the name of higher law, to do right and damn the cost.

  “You chose the life of one who flees from no fights, but finishes them and renders justice with his strength. That is a man’s decision. You gave your fealty to Arthur, and your body will die in his wars. That is also a man’s decision.”

  Ygraine drew up a corner of her white robe and daubed her eyes. “I could not be more proud. For so many years I lived in fear. Now my name shall be washed clean and yours made known, and I shall return to my home in the airy realms.”

  Gil looked as if his guts had been kicked out by a horse, and his voice sounded as empty as someone speaking from a coffin. “Mother, you cannot mean to leave? To leave me? Forever?”

  She smiled. “No mother would forswear the chance to visit her son. I will return to North Carolina on Easter, Christmas, at Embertide, quarter and cross -quarter days, and you and I shall go to mass together. A mother must take care her young do not drift into paganism and apostasy. What days shall these be?”

  Gil smiled and said, “Fasting days and Emberings be: Lent, Whitsun, Holyrood, and Lucy. The quarter and cross-quarter days are the Feast of the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple; the Feast of the Coronation of Mary; Lammas; All Saint’s Day; the Feast of the Annunciation; Saint John’s Eve; Michaelmas; and the Nativity of Our Lord. These are the days, my lady mother, when the mists are thin, and doors between the worlds open.”

 

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