Lyonesse

by Jack Vance

  Sir Famet looked right and left at the courtiers who stood in polite proximity. "Sir, might you not prefer to hear me in private?"

  "Not at all!" declared King Deuel. "At Alcantade we have no secrets. We are like birds in an orchard of ripe fruit, where everyone trills his happiest song. Speak on, Sir Famet."

  "Very well, sir. I will cite certain events which disquiet King Granice of Troicinet."

  Sir Famet spoke; King Deuel listened carefully, with head cocked to the side. Sir Famet finished his exposition. "These, sir, are the dangers which menace us all—in the not too distant future."

  King Deuel grimaced. "Dangers, everywhere dangers! I am beset on all hands, so that often I hardly take rest of nights." King Deuel's voice became nasal and he twitched in his chair as he spoke. "Daily I hear a dozen pitiful cries for protection. We guard our entire north border against the cats, stoats, and weasels employed by King Audry. The Godelians are also a menace, even though their roosts lie a hundred leagues distant. They breed and train the cannibal falcons, each a traitor to his kind. To the west is an even more baleful threat, and I allude to Duke Faude Carfilhiot, who breathes green air. Like the Godelians he hunts with falcons, using bird against bird."

  Sir Famet protested in a strained voice. "Still, you need fear no actual assault! Tintzin Fyral stands far beyond the forest!"

  King Deuel shrugged. "It is admittedly a long day's flight. But we must face reality. I have named Carfilhiot a dastard; and he dared not retort, for fear of my mighty talons. Now he skulks in his toad-wallow planning the worst kinds of mischief."

  Prince Trewan, ignoring Sir Famet's cold blue side-glance, spoke out briskly: "Why not place the strength of those same talons beside those of your fellow birds? Our flock shares your views in regard to Carfilhiot and his ally King Casmir. Together we can rebuff their attacks with great blows of talon and beak!"

  "True. Someday we shall see the formation of just such a mighty force. In the meantime each must contribute where he can. I have cowed the squamous Carfilhiot and defied the Godelians; nor do I spare mercy upon Audry's bird-killers. You are thereby liberated to aid us against the Ska and sweep them from the sea. Each does his part: I through the air; you on the ocean wave."

  The Smaadra arrived at Avallon, largest and oldest city of the Elder Isles: a place of great palaces, a university, theaters and an enormous public bath. There were a dozen temples erected to the glory of Mithra, Dis, Jupiter, Jehovah, Lug, Gaea, Enlil, Dagon, Baal, Cronus and three-headed Dion of the ancient Hybrasian pantheon. The Somrac lam Dor, a massive domed structure, housed the sacred throne Evandig and the table Cairbra an Meadhan, objects whose custody in olden days had legitimized the kings of Hybras.*

  *The table, Cairbra an Meadhan, was divided into twenty-three segments, each carved with now unreadable glyphs, purportedly the names of twenty-two in the service of the fabulous King Mahadion. In years to come a table in the style of Cairbra an Meadhan would be celebrated as the Round Table of King Arthur.

  King Audry returned from his summer palace riding in a scarlet and gold carriage drawn by six white unicorns. On the same afternoon the Troice emissaries were allowed an audience. King Audry, a tall saturnine man, had a face of fascinating ugliness. He was noted for his amours and said to be perceptive, self-indulgent, vain and occasionally cruel. He greeted the Troice with urbanity and put them at their ease. Sir Famet delivered his message, while King Audry leaned back into his cushions, eyes half-closed, stroking the white cat which had jumped into his lap.

  Sir Famet concluded his statement. "Sir, that is my message to you from King Granice."

  King Audry nodded slowly. "It is a proposal with many sides and more edges. Yes! Of course! I dearly yearn for the subjugation of Casmir and the end of his ambitions. But before I can commit treasure, arms and blood to such a project I must secure my flanks. Were I to look away an instant, the Godelians would come pounding down on me looting, burning, taking slaves. North Ulfland is a wilderness, and the Ska have encroached upon the foreshore. If I embroiled myself in North Ulfland against the Ska, then Casmir would be upon me." King Audry reflected a moment, then: "Candor is such a poor policy that we all recoil automatically from the truth. In this case you might as well know the truth. It is to my best interests that Troicinet and Lyonesse maintain a stalemate."

  "Daily the Ska grow stronger in North Ulfland. They too have ambitions."

  "I hold them in check with my fort Poelitetz. First the Godelians, then the Ska, then Casmir."

  "Meanwhile, what if Casmir, with the help of the Ska, takes Troicinet?"

  "A disaster for both of us. Fight well!"

  Dartweg, King of the Godelian Celts, listened to Sir Famet with a ponderous and bland courtesy.

  Sir Famet came to the end of his remarks. "That is the situation as it seems from Troicinet. If events go with King Casmir, he will move at last into Godelia and you will be destroyed."

  King Dartweg pulled at his red beard. A Druid bent to mutter in his ear and Dartweg nodded. He rose to his feet. "We cannot spare the Dauts so that they may conquer Lyonesse. They would thereupon attack us with new strength. No! We must guard our interests!"

  The Smaadra sailed on, through days bright with sunlight and nights sparkling with stars: across Dafdilly Bay, around Tawgy Head and into the Narrow Sea, with the wind dead fair and wake warbling up astern; then south, past Skaghane and Frehane, and smaller islands by the dozens: cliff-girt places of forest, moor and crag, exposed to all the winds of the Atlantic, inhabited by multitudes of sea-birds and the Ska. On various occasions Ska ships were sighted, and as many of the small trading cogs, Irish, Cornish, Troice or Aquitanian, which the Ska suffered to ply the Narrow Sea. The Ska ships made no effort to close, perhaps because the Smaadra clearly was able to outrun them down a fresh wind.

  Oaldes, where ailing King Oriante maintained a semblance of a court, was passed by; the final port of call would be Ys at the mouth of the Evander, where the Forty Factors preserved the independence of Ys against Carfilhiot.

  Six hours out of Ys the wind slackened and at this time a Ska long-ship, powered by sweeps and a red and black square sail came in view. Upon sighting the Smaadra it changed course. The Smaadra, unable to outrun the Ska ship, prepared for battle. The catapults were manned and armed, fire-pots prepared and slung to booms; arrow-screens raised above the bulwarks.

  The battle went quickly. After a few arrow volleys the Ska moved in close and tried to grapple.

  The Troice returned the arrow fire, then winged out a boom and slung a fire-pot accurately onto the long-ship, where it exploded in a terrible surprise of yellow flame. At a range of thirty yards the Smaadra's catapults in a leisurely fashion broke the long-ship apart. The Smaadra stood by to rescue survivors but the Ska made no attempt to swim from the wallowing hulk of their once-proud ship, which presently sank under the weight of its loot.

  The Ska commander, a tall black-haired man in a three-pronged steel helmet and a white cap over the pangolin scales of his armor, stood immobile on the afterdeck and so sank with his ship.

  Casualties aboard the Smaadra were slight; unfortunately they included Sir Famet, who, in the initial volley, took an arrow in the eye and now lay dead on the afterdeck, with the arrow shaft protruding from his head two feet into the air.

  Prince Trewan, conceiving himself the second ranking member of the delegation, took command of the ship. "Into the sea with our honored dead," he told the captain. "The rites of mourning must wait upon our return to Domreis. We will proceed as before, to Ys."

  The Smaadra approached Ys from the sea. At first nothing could be seen but a line of low hills parallel to the shore, then, like shadows looming through the haze, the high serrated outline of the Teach tac Teach* appeared.

  *Literally: ‘peak on peak' in one of the precursor tongues.

  A wide pale beach gleamed in the sunlight, with a glistening fringe of surf. Presently the mouth of the River Evander appeared beside an isolated white palace on the
beach. Aillas' attention was caught by its air of seclusion and secrecy, and its unusual architecture, which was like none other of his experience.

  The Smaadra entered the Evander estuary, and gaps in the dark foliage shrouding the hills revealed many more white palaces, on terrace above terrace: clearly Ys was a rich and ancient city. A stone jetty came into view, with ships moored alongside, and, behind, a row of shops: taverns, green-grocers' booths, and fish-mongers' stalls.

  The Smaadra eased close to the jetty, made fast to wooden bollards carved to represent the torsos of mermen. Trewan, Ail-las and a pair of ship's officers jumped ashore. No one took notice of their presence.

  Trewan had long since placed himself thoroughly in command of the voyage. By various hints and signals he gave Aillas to understand that, in the context of the present business, Aillas and the ship's officers occupied an exactly equal standing as members of the retinue. Aillas, sourly amused, accepted the situation without comment. The voyage was almost over and Trewan in all probability, for better or worse, would be the future king of Troicinet.

  At Trewan's behest, Aillas made inquiries, and the group was directed to the palace of Lord Shein, the First Factor of Ys. The route took them a quarter-mile at a slant up the hillside, from terrace to terrace, in the shade of tall samfire trees.

  Lord Shein received the four Troice with neither surprise nor effusive demonstration. Trewan performed the introductions. "Sir, I am Trewan, Prince at the Court of Miraldra and nephew to King Granice of Troicinet. Here is Sir Leves, and Sir Elmoret, and here my cousin, Prince Aillas of Watershade."

  Lord Shein acknowledged the introductions informally. "Please be seated." He indicated settees and signaled his servants to bring refreshment. He himself remained standing: a slender olive-skinned man of early maturity, dark-haired, who carried himself with the elegance of a mythical dawn-dancer. His intelligence was obvious; his manners were courteous but so in contrast to Trewan's sententiousness that he seemed almost frivolous.

  Trewan explained the business of the delegation as he had heard Sir Famet put it on previous occasions: to Aillas' mind, an insensitive misreading of conditions at the city Ys, what with Faude Carfilhiot looming above Vale Evander only twenty miles east and Ska ships daily visible from the jetty.

  Shein, half-smiling, shook his head and gave Trewan's proposals short shrift. "Understand, if you will, that Ys is something of a special case. Normally we are subject to the Duke of Vale Evander, who in equal measure is a dutiful vassal of King Oriante. Which is to say, we heed Carfilhiot's orders even less than he obeys King Oriante. Not at all, in sheer fact. We are detached from the politics of the Elder Isles. King Casmir, King Audry, King Granice: they are all beyond our concerns."

  Trewan made an incredulous expostulation. "You would seem to be vulnerable on both sides, to Ska and Carfilhiot alike."

  Shein, smiling, demolished Trewan's concept. "We are Trevenas, like all the folk of the vale. Carfilhiot has only a hundred men of his own. He could raise a thousand or even two thousand troops from the valley if a clear need arose, but never to attack Ys."

  "Still, what of the Ska? On a moment's notice, they could overrun the city."

  Shein once again demurred. "We Trevenas are an old race, as old as the Ska. They will never attack us."

  "1 cannot "understand this," muttered Trewan. "Are you magicians?"

  "Let us talk of other matters. You are returning to Troicinet?"

  "At once."

  Shein looked quizzically around the group. "With absolutely no offense intended, I am perplexed that King Granice sends what appears a rather junior group on affairs of so much consequence. Especially in view of his special interests here in South Ulfland."

  "What special interests are these?"

  "Are they not clear? If Prince Quilcy dies without issue, Granice is next in the lawful succession, through the line that starts with Danglish, Duke of South Ulfland, who was grandfather to Granice's father and also grandfather to Oriante. But surely you were well aware of all this?"

  "Yes, of course," said Trewan. "Naturally we keep abreast of such matters."

  Shein was now openly smiling. "And naturally you are aware of the new circumstances in Troicinet?"

  "Naturally," said Trewan. "We are returning to Domreis at once." He rose to his feet and bowed stiffly. "I regret that you could not take a more positive attitude."

  "Still, it will have to serve. I bid you a pleasant voyage home."

  The Troice emissaries returned down through Ys to the jetty. Trewan muttered: "What could he mean ‘new circumstances in Troicinet?'"

  "Why didn't you ask him?" asked Aillas, in a studiously neutral voice.

  "Because I chose not to do so," snapped Trewan.

  Upon reaching the jetty they noticed a Troice cog, newly arrived and only just making its lines fast to the bollards.

  Trewan stopped short. "I'll just have a word with the captain. You three prepare the Smaadra for immediate sailing."

  The three returned aboard the Smaadra. Ten minutes later Trewan left the cog and came along the jetty, walking with a slow and thoughtful step. Before boarding, he turned and looked up Vale Evander. Then slowly he turned and boarded the Smaadra.

  Aillas asked: "What were the new circumstances?"

  "The captain could tell me nothing."

  "You seem suddenly very glum."

  Trewan compressed his lips but had no comment to make. He scanned the horizon. "The cog lookout sighted a pirate ship. We must be on the alert." Trewan turned away. "I am not altogether well; I must rest." He lurched away to the aft cabin which he had occupied since the death of Sir Famet.

  The Smaadra departed the harbor. As they passed the white palace on the beach, Aillas, from the afterdeck, noticed a young woman who had come out upon the terrace. Distance blurred her features, but Aillas was able to make out her long black hair, and, by her carriage or some other attribute, he knew her to be well-favored, perhaps even beautiful. He raised his arm and waved to her, but she made no response and returned into the palace.

  The Smaadra put out to sea. The lookouts scanned the horizon but reported no other shipping; the pirate vessel, if such indeed existed, was nowhere to be seen.

  Trewan failed to reappear on deck until noon of the following day. His indisposition, whatever its source, had departed and Trewan seemed once more in sound health, if still somewhat gaunt and pale. Except for a few words with the captain as to the progress of the ship, he spoke to no one, and presently returned to his cabin, where the steward brought him a pot of boiled beef with leeks.

  An hour before sunset Trewan once more stepped out on deck. He looked at the low sun and asked the captain: "Why do we sail this course?"

  "Sir, we have made a bit too much easting. Should the wind rise or shift, we might well fall in peril of Tark, which I put yonder, just over the horizon."

  "Then we are having a slow passage."

  "Something slow, sir, but easy. I see no occasion to man the sweeps."

  "Quite so."

  Aillas took supper with Trewan, who suddenly became talkative and formulated a dozen grandiose plans. "When I am King, I shall make myself known as ‘Monarch of the Seas!' I will build thirty warships, each with a complement of a hundred mariners." He went on to describe the projected ships in detail. "We will care never a fig whether Casmir allies himself with the Ska or the Tartars, or the Mamelukes of Araby."

  "That is a noble prospect."

  Trewan disclosed even more elaborate schemes. "Casmir intends to be King of the Elder Isles; he claims lineage from the first Olam. King Audry also pretends to the same throne; he has Evandig to validate his claim. I also can claim lineage from Olam, and if I were to make a great raid and take Evandig for my own, why should I not aspire to the same realm?"

  "It is an ambitious concept," said Aillas. And many heads would be lopped before Trewan achieved his purpose, so thought Aillas.

  Trewan glanced sidewise at Aillas from under his heavy brows.
He drank a goblet of wine at a gulp and once more became taciturn. Presently Aillas went out on the afterdeck where he leaned on the taff-rail and watched the afterglow and its shifting reflections on the water. In another two days the voyage would be over, and he would be done with Trewan and his irritating habits: a joyful thought!... Aillas turned away from the taff-rail and went forward to where the off-watch crew sat under a flaring lamp, a few gambling dice, one singing mournful ballads to the chords of his lute. Aillas remained half an hour, then went aft to his cubbyhole.

  Dawn found the Smaadra well into the Straits of Palisidra. At noon Cape Palisidra, the western tip of Troicinet, loomed into view, then disappeared, and the Smaadra now rode the waters of the Lir.

  During the afternoon the wind died, and the Smaadra floated motionless, with spars rattling and sails flapping. Toward sunset the wind returned, but from a different quarter; the captain put the ship on a starboard tack, to sail almost due north. Trewan gave vent to his dissatisfaction. "We'll never make Domreis tomorrow on this course!"

  The captain, who had adjusted to Trewan only with difficulty, gave an indifferent shrug. "Sir, the port tack takes us into the Twirles: ‘the ships' graveyard.' The winds will drive us to Domreis tomorrow, if the currents do not throw us off."

  "Well then, what of these, currents?"

  "They are unpredictable. The tide flows in and out of the Lir; the currents may swing us in any of four directions. They flow at speed; they eddy in the middle of the Lir; they have thrown many sound ships on the rocks."

  "In that case, be vigilant! Double the lookout!"

  "Sir, all that needs doing already has been done."

  At sunset the wind died again and the Smaadra lay motionless.

  The sun set into smoky orange haze, while Aillas dined with Trewan in the aft cabin. Trewan seemed preoccupied, and spoke hardly a word during the entire meal, so that Aillas was glad to depart the cabin.

  The afterglow was lost in a bank of clouds; the night was dark. Overhead the stars shone with brilliance. A chilly breeze suddenly sprang up from the southeast; close-hauled the Smaadra beat to the east.