Lyonesse

by Jack Vance

  Vitality had drained from Desmei. She faded to smoke and was gone. Of the three components she had yielded, only Melancthe, fresh with the subtle odor of violets, remained at the palace. The second, still shrouded, was taken to the castle Tintzin Fyral, at the head of Vale Evander. The third had become a handful of black ashes and a lingering stench in the workroom.

  Chapter 11

  IN THE CHAPEL AT THE TOP of the garden Suldrun's bed had been arranged, and here a tall dour kitchen maid named Bagnold daily brought food, precisely at noon. Bagnold was half-deaf and might have been mute as well, for all her conversation. She was required to verify Suldrun's presence, and if Suldrun were not at the chapel Bagnold trudged angrily down into the garden to find her, which was almost every day, since Suldrun gave no heed to time. After a period Bagnold tired of the exertion and put the full basket on the chapel steps, picked up the empty basket of the day before and departed: an arrangement which suited both Suldrun and herself.

  When Bagnold departed she dropped a heavy oaken beam into iron brackets thus to bar the door. Suldrun might easily have scaled the cliffs to either side of the garden, and someday, so she told herself, she would do so, to depart the garden forever.

  So passed the seasons: spring and summer, and the garden was at its most beautiful, though haunted always by stillness and melancholy. Suldrun knew the garden at all hours: at gray dawn, when dew lay heavy and bird calls came clear and poignant, like sounds at the beginning of time. Late at night, when the full moon rode high above the clouds, she sat under the lime tree looking to sea while the surf rattled along the shingle.

  One evening Brother Umphred appeared, his round face abeam with innocent good will. He carried a basket, which he placed upon the chapel steps. He looked Suldrun carefully up and down. "Marvelous! You are as beautiful as ever! Your hair shines, your skin glows; how do you keep so clean?"

  "Don't you know?" asked Suldrun. "I bathe, in yonder basin."

  Brother Umphred raised his hands in mock horror. "That is the font for holy water! You have done sacrilege!"

  Suldrun merely shrugged and turned away.

  With happy gestures Brother Umphred unpacked his basket. "Let us bring cheer to your life. Here is tawny wine; we will drink!"

  "No. Please leave."

  "Are you not bored and dissatisfied?"

  "Not at all. Take your wine and go."

  Silently Brother Umphred departed.

  With the coming of autumn the leaves turned color and dusk came early. There was a succession of sad and glorious sunsets, then came the rains and the cold of winter, whereupon the chapel became bleak and chill. Suldrun piled stones to build a hearth and a chimney against one of the windows. The other she wadded right with twigs and grass. Currents swinging around the cape cast driftwood up on the shingle, which Suldrun carried to the chapel to dry, and then burnt on the hearth.

  The rains dwindled; sunlight burned bright through cold crisp air, and spring was at hand. Daffodils appeared among the flower beds and the trees put on new leaves. In the sky appeared the stars of spring: Capella, Arcturus, Denebola. On sunny mornings cumulus clouds towered high over the sea, and Suldrun's blood seemed to quicken. She felt a strange restlessness, which never before had troubled her.

  The days became longer, and Suldrun's perceptions became more acute, and each day began to have its own quality, as if it were one of a limited number. A tension began to form, an imminence, and often Suldrun stayed awake all night long, so that she might know all to occur in her garden.

  Brother Umphred paid another visit. He found Suldrun sitting on the stone steps of the chapel, sunning herself. Brother Umphred looked at her with curiosity. The sun had tanned her arms, legs and face, and lightened strands of her hair. She looked the picture of serene good health; in fact, thought Brother Umphred, she seemed almost happy.

  The fact aroused his carnal suspicions; he wondered if she had taken a lover. "Dearest Suldrun, my heart bleeds when I think of you solitary and forlorn. Tell me; how do you fare?"

  "Well enough," said Suldrun. "I like solitude. Please do not remain here on my account."

  Brother Umphred gave a cheerful chuckle. He settled himself beside her. "Ah, dearest Suldrun—" He put his hand on hers. Suldrun stared at the fat white fingers; they felt moist and over-amiable. She moved her hand; the fingers fell away reluctantly. "—I bring you not only Christian solace, but also a more human consolation. You must recognize that while I am a priest I am also a man, and susceptible to your beauty. Will you accept this friendship?" Umphred's voice became soft and unctuous. "Even though the emotion is warmer and dearer than simple friendship?"

  Suldrun laughed drearily. She rose to her feet and pointed at the gate. "Sir, you have my leave to go. I hope that you will not return." She turned and descended into the garden. Brother Umphred muttered a curse and departed.

  Suldrun sat beside the lime tree and looked out over the sea. "I wonder," she asked herself, "what will become of me? I am beautiful, so everyone says, but it has brought me only bane. Why am I punished, as if I had done wrong? Somehow I must bestir myself; I must make a change."

  After her evening meal she wandered down to the ruined villa, where she liked best, on clear nights, to watch the stars. Tonight they showed an extraordinary brilliance and seemed to address themselves to her, like wonderful children brimming with secrets... She rose to her feet and stood listening. Imminence hung in the air; its meaning she could not decide.

  The night breeze became cool; Suldrun retreated up through the garden. In the chapel, coals yet smouldered in the fireplace. Suldrun blew them ablaze, lay on dry driftwood and the room became warm.

  In the morning, wakening very early, she went out into the dawn. Dew lay heavy on foliage and grass; the silence had a primitive quality. Suldrun went down through the garden, slow as a sleepwalker, down to the beach. Surf boomed up the shingle. The sun, rising, colored far clouds at the opposite horizon. At the southern curve of the beach, where currents brought driftwood, she noticed a human body which had floated in on the tide. Suldrun halted, then approached, step by step, and stared down in horror, which quickly became pity. What tragedy, that so cold a death had taken one so young, so wan, so comely...A wave stirred the young man's legs. His fingers spasmodically extended, clawed into the shingle. Suldrun dropped to her knees, pulled the body up from the water. She brushed back the sodden curls. The hands were bloody; the head was bruised. "Don't die," whispered Suldrun. "Please don't die!"

  The eyelids flickered; eyes, glazed and filmed with sea-water, looked up at her, then closed.

  Suldrun dragged the body up into dry sand. When she tugged the right shoulder he emitted a sad sound. Suldrun ran to the chapel, brought back coals and dry wood, and built up a fire. She wiped the cold face with a cloth. "Don't die," she said again and again.

  His skin began to warm. Sunlight shone over the cliffs and down upon the beach. Aillas opened his eyes once more and wondered if indeed he had died, and now roamed the gardens of paradise with the most beautiful of all golden-haired angels to tend him.

  Suldrun asked: "How do you feel?"

  "My shoulder hurts." Aillas moved his arm. The twinge of pain assured him that he still lived. "Where is this place?"

  "This is an old garden near Lyonesse Town. I am Suldrun." She touched his shoulder. "Do you think it's broken?"

  "I don't know."

  "Can you walk? I can't carry you up the hill."

  Aillas tried to rise, but fell. He tried again, with Suldrun's arm around his waist, and stood swaying.

  "Come now, I'll try to hold you."

  Step by step they climbed up through the garden. At the ruins they stopped to rest. Aillas said weakly, "I must tell you that I am Troice. I fell from a ship. If I am captured I will be put in prison—at the very least."

  Suldrun laughed. "You are already in a prison. Mine. I am not allowed to leave. Don't worry; I will keep you safe."

  She helped him to his feet; at last they re
ached the chapel.

  As best she could Suldrun immobilized Aillas' shoulder with bandages and withes and made him lie upon her couch. Aillas accepted her ministrations and lay watching her: what crimes had this beautiful girl committed that she should be so imprisoned? Suldrun fed him first honey and wine, then porridge. Aillas became warm and comfortable and fell asleep.

  By evening Aillas' body burned with fever. Suldrun knew no remedy save damp cloths on the forehead. By midnight the fever cooled, and Aillas slept. Suldrun made herself as comfortable as possible on the floor before the fire.

  In the morning Aillas awoke, half-convinced that his circumstances were unreal, that he was living a dream. Gradually he allowed himself to remember the Smaadra. Who had thrown him into the sea? Trewan? By reason of sudden madness? Why else? His manner since visiting the Troice cog at Ys had been most peculiar. What could have happened aboard the cog? What possibly could have driven Trewan past the brink of sanity?

  On the third day Aillas decided that he had broken no bones and Suldrun eased his bandages. When the sun rose high the two descended into the garden and sat among the fallen columns of the old Roman villa. Through the golden afternoon they told each other of their lives. "This is not our first meeting," said Aillas. "Do you remember visitors from Troicinet about ten years ago? I remember you."

  Suldrun reflected. "There have always been dozens of delegations. I seem to remember someone like you. It was so long ago; I can't be sure."

  Aillas took her hand, the first time he had touched her in affection. "As soon as I am strong we will escape. It will be a simple affair to climb the stones yonder; then it's over the hill and away."

  Suldrun spoke in a half-whisper, husky and fearful. "If we were captured"—she hunched her shoulders together—"the King would show us no pity."

  In a subdued voice Aillas said: "We won't be captured! Especially if we plan well, and are all-cautious." He sat up straight, and spoke with great energy. "We will be free and away through the countryside! We'll travel by night and hide by day; we'll be one with the vagabonds, and who will know us?"

  Aillas' optimism began to infect Suldrun; the prospect of freedom became exhilarating. "Do you really think we'll escape?"

  "Of course! How could it be otherwise?"

  Suldrun gazed pensively down the garden and over the sea. "I don't know. I have never expected to be happy. I am happy now—even though I am frightened." She laughed nervously. "It makes for a strange mood."

  "Don't be frightened," said Aillas. Her nearness overwhelmed him; he put his arm around her waist. Suldrun jumped to her feet. "I feel as-if a thousand eyes are watching us!"

  "Insects, birds, a lizard or two." Aillas scanned the cliffs. "I see no one else."

  Suldrun looked up and down the garden. "Nor do I. Still..." She seated herself at a demure distance of three feet, and turned him an arch side-glance. "Your health seems to be on the mend."

  "Yes. I feel very well, and I cannot bear to look at you without wanting to touch you." He moved close to her; laughing, she slid away.

  "Aillas, no! Wait till your arm is better!"

  "I'll be careful of my arm."

  "Someone might come."

  "Who would be so bold?"

  "Bagnold. The priest Umphred. My father the King."

  Aillas groaned. "Destiny could not be so unkind."

  Suldrun said in a soft voice: "Destiny doesn't really care."

  Night came to the garden. Sitting before the fire the two supped on bread, onions and mussels which Suldrun had gathered from the tidal rocks. Once again they talked of escape. Suldrun said wistfully, "Perhaps I will feel strange away from this garden. Every tree, every stone, is known to me... But, since you came, everything is different. The garden is going from me." Looking into the fire, she gave a little shiver.

  "What is wrong?" asked Aillas.

  "I am afraid."

  "Of what?"

  "I don't know."

  "We could leave tonight, but for my arm. Another few days and I'll be strong again. In the meantime we must plan. The woman who brings your food; what of her?"

  "At noon she brings a basket and takes back the empty basket from the day before. I never speak to her."

  "Could she be bribed?"

  "To do what?"

  "To bring the food as usual, discard it, and take back the empty basket next day. With a week's start, we could be far away and never fear capture."

  "Bagnold would never dare, even if she were so disposed, which she isn't. And we have nothing to bribe her with."

  "Have you no jewels, no gold?"

  "In my cabinet at the palace I have gold and gems."

  "Which is to say, they are inaccessible."

  Suldrun considered. "Not necessarily. The East Tower is quiet after sunset. I could go directly up to my chamber, and no one would notice. I could be in, out and away in a trice."

  "Is it truly so simple?"

  "Yes! I have gone this way hundreds of times, and seldom have I met anyone along the way."

  "We cannot bribe Bagnold, so we will have free only a day, from noon till noon, plus whatever time your father needs to organize a search."

  "An hour, no more. He moves quickly and with decision."

  "So then, we must have a peasant's disguise, and this is easier said than done. Is there no one whom you trust?"

  "One only, the nurse who tended me when I was small."

  "And where is she?"

  "Her name is Ehirme. She lives on a steading south along the road. She would give us clothes, or anything we asked for without stint, if she knew my need."

  "With disguise, a day's start and gold for passage to Troicinet, freedom is ours. And once across the Lir you will be simply Suldrun of Watershade. No one will know you for Princess Suldrun of Lyonesse save only me and perhaps my father, who will love you as I do."

  Suldrun looked up at him. "Do you truly love me?"

  Aillas took her hands and pulled her to her feet; their faces were only inches apart. They kissed each other.

  "I love you most dearly," said Aillas. "I never want to be parted from you."

  "I love you, Aillas, nor do I wish us to be parted ever."

  In a transport of joy the two looked into each other's eyes. Aillas said: "Treachery and tribulation brought me here, but I give thanks for all of it."

  "I have been sad too," said Suldrun. "Still, if I had not been sent away from the palace, I could not have salvaged your poor drowned corpse!"

  "So then! For murderous Trewan and cruel Casmir: our thanks!" He bent his face to Suldrun's; they kissed again and again; then, sinking to the couch, lay locked in each other's arms, and presently lost themselves in ardor.

  Weeks passed, swift and strange: a period of bliss, made the more vivid by its background of high adventure. The pain in Aillas' shoulder subsided, and one day in the early afternoon, he scaled the cliff to the east of the garden and traversed the rocky slope on the seaward side of the Urquial, slowly and gingerly, since his boots were at the bottom of the sea and he went unshod. Beyond the Urquial he pushed through an undergrowth of scrub oak, elderberry and rowan, and so gained the road.

  At this time of day, few folk were abroad. Aillas encountered a drover with a flock of sheep and a small boy leading a goat, and neither gave him more than a cursory glance.

  A mile along the road he turned into a lane which wound away between hedgerows, and presently arrived at the steading where Ehirme lived with her husband and children.

  Aillas halted in the shadow of the hedge. To his left, at the far side of a meadow, Chastain, the husband and his two oldest sons, cut hay. The cottage lay at the back of a kitchen garden, where leeks, carrots, turnips and cabbages grew in neat rows. Smoke rose from the chimney.

  Aillas pondered the situation. If he went to the door and someone other than Ehirme showed herself, awkward questions might be asked, for which he had no answers.

  The difficulty resolved itself. From the door came a stocky r
ound-faced woman carrying a bucket. She set out toward the pig-sty. Aillas called out: "Ehirme! Dame Ehirme!"

  The woman, pausing, examined Aillas with doubt and curiosity, then slowly approached. "What do you want?"

  "You are Ehirme?"

  "Yes."

  "Would you do a service, in secret, for Princess Suldrun?"

  Ehirme put down the bucket. "Please explain, and I'll tell you whether such service lies within my power."

  "And in any event you'll keep the secret?"

  "That I will do. Who are you?"

  "I am Aillas, a gentleman of Troicinet. I fell from a ship and Suldrun saved me from drowning. We are resolved to escape the garden and make our way to Troicinet. We need a disguise of old clothes, hats and shoes, and Suldrun has no friend but you. We cannot pay at this time, but if you help us, you will be well rewarded when I return to Troicinet."

  Ehirme reflected, the creases in her weather-beaten face twitching to the flux of her thoughts. She said: "I will help you as best I can. I have long suffered for the cruelty done to poor little Suldrun, who never harmed so much as an insect. Do you need only clothes?"

  "Nothing more, and our most grateful thanks for these."

  "The woman who brings Suldrun food—I know her well; she is Bagnold, an ill-natured creature rancid with gloom. So soon as she notices untouched food she will scuttle to King Casmir and the search will be on."

  Aillas gave a fatalistic shrug. "We have no choice, and we will hide well by daylight."

  "Do you carry sharp weapons? Wicked things move by night. Often I see them hopping about the meadow, and flying across the clouds."

  "I will find a good cudgel; that must suffice."

  Ehirme gave a noncommittal grunt. "I will go to market every day. On my way back I will open the postern, empty the basket, and Bagnold will be deceived. I can do this safely for a week, and by then the trail will be cold."

  "That will mean great risk for you. If Casmir discovered your doing he would show no mercy!"