by Jack Vance
"What of bandits, footpads and the like?"
"You should have put the question to Sir Descandol; he seems to be the authority on such offenses."
"Possibly so, but he was gone before the thought occurred to me. Well, no doubt we shall manage."
The seven set off along the road. The river swung away and the forest closed in from both sides. Yane, riding in the lead, caught a flicker of movement among the leaves. He cried out: "Down, all! Down in the saddle!" He dropped to the ground, snapped arrow to bow and launched a shaft into the gloom, arousing a wail of pain. Meanwhile, a volley of arrows had darted from the forest. The riders, ducking to Yane's cry, were unscathed except for the ponderous Faurfisk, who took an arrow in the chest and died instantly. Dodging, crouching low, his fellows charged into the forest flourishing steel. Yane relied on his bow. He shot three more arrows, striking into a neck, a chest and a leg. Within the forest there were groans, the crashing of bodies, cries of sudden fear. One man tried to flee; Bode sprang upon his back, bore him to the ground, and there disarmed him.
Silence, save for panting and groans. Yane's arrows had killed two and disabled two more. These two and two others lay draining their blood into the forest mold. The three rough-clad men who the night before had sat in the inn over wine were among them.
Aillas turned to Bode's captive, and performed a slight bow, as a knightly courtesy. "Sir Descandol, the landlord declared you an authority upon the region's footpads, and now I understand his reason. Cargus, be good enough to throw a rope over the stout bough yonder. Sir Descandol, last night I knew gratitude for your sage advice, but today I wonder if your motives might not have been simple avarice, that our gold might be reserved for your own use."
Sir Descandol demurred. "Not altogether! I intended first to spare you the humiliation of robbery by a pair of twitterlings."
"Then that was an act of gentility. A pity that we cannot spend an hour or two in an exchange of civilities."
"I am nothing loath," said Sir Descandol.
"Time presses. Bode, bind Sir Descandol's arms and legs, so that he need not perform all manner of graceless postures. We respect his dignity no less than he does ours."
"That is very good of you," said Sir Descandol.
"Now then! Bode, Cargus, Garstang! Heave away hard; hoist Sir Descandol high!"
Faurfisk was buried in the forest under a filigree of sun and shadow. Yane wandered among the corpses and recovered his arrows. Sir Descandol was lowered, the rope reclaimed, coiled and hung on the saddle of Faurfisk's tall black horse. Without a backward glance, the company of six rode away through the forest.
Silence, emphasized rather than broken by far sweet birdcalls, closed in on them. As the day wore on the sunlight passing through foliage became charged with a tawny suffusion, creating shadows dark, deep and tinged with maroon, or mauve, or dark blue. No one spoke; hooves made only muffled sounds.
At sundown the six halted beside a small pond. At midnight, while Aillas and Scharis were on watch, a company of pale blue lights twinkled and flickered through the forest. An hour later a voice in the distance spoke three distinct words. They were unintelligible to Aillas but Scharis rose to his feet and raised his head almost as if to reply.
In wonder Aillas asked: "Did you understand the voice?"
"No."
"Then why did you start to answer?"
"It was almost as if he were talking to me."
"Why should he do that?"
"I don't know.. .Such things frighten me."
Aillas asked no more questions.
The sun rose; the six ate bread and cheese and continued on their way. The landscape opened to glades and meadows; outcrops of crumbling gray rock lay across the road; trees grew gnarled and twisted.
During the afternoon the sky turned hazy; the sunlight became golden and wan, like the light of autumn. Clouds drifted from the west, ever heavier and more menacing.
Not far from where the road crossed the head of a long meadow, at the back of a formal garden, stood a palace of gracious if fanciful architecture. A portal of carved marble guarded the entry, which was carefully raked with gravel. In the doorway of the gatehouse stood a gatekeeper in a livery of dark red and blue diaper.
The six halted to inspect the palace, which offered the prospect of shelter for the night, if ordinary standards of hospitality were in force.
Aillas dismounted and approached the gatehouse. The gatekeeper bowed politely. He wore a wide hat of black felt low down his forehead and a small black domino across the top of his face. Beside him leaned a ceremonial halberd; he carried no other weapons.
Aillas spoke: "Who is lord of the palace yonder?"
"This is Villa Meroe', sir, a simple country retreat, where my lord Daldace takes pleasure in the company of his friends."
"This is a lonely region for such a villa."
"That is the case, sir."
"We do not wish to trouble Lord Daldace, but perhaps he might allow us shelter for the night."
"Why not proceed directly to the villa? Lord Daldace is generous and hospitable."
Aillas turned to appraise the villa. "In all candor, I am uneasy. This is the Forest Tantrevalles, and there is a shimmer of enchantment to this place, and we would prefer to avoid events beyond our understanding."
The gatekeeper laughed. "Sir, your caution is in some degree well-founded. Still, you may safely take shelter in the villa and no one will offer you harm. Those enchantments which affect revelers at Villa Meroe will pass you by. Eat only your own victual; drink only the wine now in your possession. In short, take none of the food or drink which is sure to be offered, and the enchantments will serve only to amuse you."
"And if we were to accept food and drink?"
"You might be delayed in your mission, sir."
Aillas turned to his companions, who had gathered at his back.."You heard this man's remarks; he seems truthful and speaks, so it seems, without duplicity. Shall we risk enchantment, or a night riding through the storm?"
"So long as we use only our own provisions and take nothing served within, we would seem to be secure," said Garstang. "Is that right, friend gatekeeper?"
"Sir, that is quite correct."
"Then I for one would prefer bread and cheese in the comfort of the villa, to the same bread and cheese in the wind and rain of the night."
"That is a reasonable analysis," said Aillas. "What of you others? Bode?"
"I would ask this good gatekeeper why he wears the domino." "
Sir, that is the custom here, which in all courtesy you should obey. If you choose to visit Villa Meroe, you must wear the domino I will give you."
"It is most odd," murmured Scharis. "And most intriguing."
"Cargus? Yane?"
"The place reeks of magic," growled Yane.
"It frightens me none," said Cargus. "I know a cantrip against enchantments; I will eat bread and cheese and turn my face away from the marvels."
"So be it," said Aillas. "Gatekeeper, please announce us to Lord Daldace. This is Sir Garstang, a knight of Lyonesse; these are the gentlemen Yane, Scharis, Bode and Cargus, of various parts, and I am Aillas, a gentleman of Troicinet."
"Lord Daldace, through his magic, already expects you," said the gatekeeper. "Be good enough to wear these dominoes. You may leave your horses here and I will have them ready for you in the morning. Naturally, take with you your meat and drink." The six walked the graveled path, through the garden and across a terrace to Villa Meroe. The setting sun, shining for an instant under the lowering clouds, cast a shaft of light at the I doorway, where stood a tall man in a splendid costume of dark red velvet. Black hair, clipped short, curled close to his head. A short beard shrouded jaws and chin; a black domino masked his eyes.
"Gentlemen, I am Lord Daldace, and you are welcome to Villa Meroe, where I hope you will be comfortable for as long as you care to stay."
"Our thanks, your Lordship. We will trouble you a single night only, as important
business compels us to the road."
"In that case, sirs, be advised that we are somewhat sybaritic in our tastes, and our entertainments are often beguiling. Eat nothing and drink nothing but your own stuffs, and you will find no difficulties. I hope you will not think the worse of me for the warning."
"Not at all, sir. Our concern is not revelry but only for shelter against the storm."
Lord Daldace made an expansive gesture. "When you have refreshed yourselves, we will talk further."
A footman led the group to a chamber furnished with six couches. An adjacent bathroom offered a flowing fall of warm water, soap of palm and aloes, towels of crushed linen. After bathing they ate the food and drink which they had brought from their saddle-bags.
"Eat well," said Aillas. "Let us not leave this room hungry."
"Better that we did not leave this room at all," observed Yane.
"Impossible!" declared Scharis. "Have you no curiosity?"
"In matters of this sort, very little. I am going directly to that couch."
Cargus said, "I am a great reveler, when the mood comes on me. To watch the revels of other folk sours my disposition. I too will take to the couch, and dream my own dreams."
Bode said: "I will stay; I need no persuasion."
Aillas turned to Garstang. "What of you?"
"If you stay, I will stay. If you go, I will stand by your side, to guard you from greed and intemperance."
"Scharis?"
"I could not contain myself in here. I will go, at least to wander and stare through the holes of my mask."
"Then I will follow, and ward you as Garstang guards me, and we both shall guard Garstang, so we will be reasonably secure."
Scharis shrugged. "As you say."
"Who knows what might occur? We will wander and stare together."
The three masked their faces and left the chamber.
Tall archways overlooked the terrace, where flowering jasmine, orange, elethea and cleanotis perfumed the air. On a settee padded with cushions of dark green velvet the three sat to rest. The clouds which had threatened a great storm had moved to the side; the night air was soft and mild.
A tall man in a dark red costume, with black curly hair and a small black beard, paused to survey them. "Well then, what do you think of my villa?"
Garstang shook his head. "I am beyond speech."
Aillas said: "There is too much to comprehend."
Scharis' face was pale and his eyes shone, but, like Garstang, he had nothing to say.
Aillas gestured to the couch. "Sit awhile with us, Lord Daldace."
"With pleasure."
"We are curious," said Aillas. "There is such overwhelming beauty here; it has almost the unreal quality of a dream."
Lord Daldace looked about as if seeing the villa for the first time. "What are dreams? Ordinary experience is a dream. The eyes, the ears, the nose: they present pictures on the brain, and these pictures are called ‘reality.' At night, when we dream, other pictures, of source unknown, are impinged. Sometimes the dream-images are more real than ‘reality.' Which is solid, which illusion? Why trouble to make the distinction? When tasting a delicious wine, only a pedant analyzes every component of the flavor. When we admire a beautiful maiden, do we evaluate the particular bones of her skull? I am sure we do not. Accept beauty on its own terms: this is the creed of Villa Meroe."
"What of satiation?"
Lord Daldace smiled. "Have you ever known satiation in a dream?"
"Never," said Garstang. "A dream is always most vivid."
Scharis said: "Both life and dreams are things of exquisite fragility. A thrust, a cut—they are gone: away, like a sweet scent on the wind."
Garstang said: "Perhaps you will answer this: why is everyone masked?"
"A whim, a crotchet, a fancy, a fad! I might counter your question with another. Consider your face: is it not a mask of skin? You three, Aillas, Garstang and Scharis, each is a person favored by nature; your skin-mask commends you to the world. Your comrade Bode is not so fortunate; he would rejoice to go forever with a mask before his face."
"None of your company appears ill-favored," said Garstang. "The gentlemen are noble and the ladies are beautiful. So much is evident despite the masks."
"Perhaps so. Still, late of night, when lovers become intimate and disrobe together, the last article to be removed is the mask."
Scharis asked: "And who plays the music?"
Aillas listened, as did Garstang. "I hear no music."
"Nor I," said Garstang.
"It is very soft," said Lord Daldace. "In fact, perhaps it is unheard." He rose to his feet. "I hope I have satisfied your wonder?"
"Only a churl would require more of you," said Aillas. "You have been more than courteous."
"You are pleasant guests, and I am sorry that you must go on the morrow. But now, a lady awaits me. She is new to Villa Meroe and I am anxious to enjoy her pleasure."
"A last question," said Aillas. "If new guests come, the old ones must leave, or they would congest every hall and chamber of Meroe. When they leave, where do they go?"
Lord Daldace laughed softly. "Where go the folk who live in your dreams when at last you wake?" He bowed and departed.
Three maidens stopped before them. One spoke with mischievous boldness. "Why do you sit so quietly? Do we lack charm?"
The three men rose to their feet. Aillas found himself facing a slender girl with pale blonde hair and features of flower-like delicacy. Eyes of violet-blue looked at him from behind the black domino. Aillas' heart gave a startled jerk, of both pain and joy-He started to speak, then checked himself. "Excuse me," he muttered. "I am not feeling well." He turned away, to find that Garstang had done the same. Garstang said: "It is impossible. She resembles someone who was once very dear to me."
"They are dreams," said Aillas. "They are very hard to resist. Is Lord Daldace so ingenuous, after all?"
"Let us return to our couches. I don't care for dreams quite so real... Where is Scharis?"
The maidens and Scharis were not to be seen. "We must find him," said Aillas. "His temperament will betray him."
They walked the chambers of Meroe, ignoring the soft lights, the fascinations, the tables laden with delicacies. At last they found Scharis, in a small courtyard opening on the terrace. He sat in the company of four others, blowing soft tones from the pipes of a syrinx. The others played various different instruments, to produce music of a haunting sweetness. Close beside Scharis sat a slim dark-haired maiden; she leaned so closely to him that her hair spread across his shoulder. In one hand she held a goblet of purple wine, which she sipped, and then, when the music stopped, she offered to Scharis.
Scharis, in rapt abstraction, took it in his hand, but Aillas leaned low over the balustrade and snatched it away, "Scharis, what has come over you? Come along, we must sleep! Tomorrow we will put this dream-castle behind us; it is more dangerous than all the werewolves of Tantrevalles!"
Scharis slowly rose to his feet. He looked down at the girl.
"I must go."
The three men returned silently to the sleeping chamber, where Aillas said: "You almost drank from the goblet."
"I know."
"Did you drink before?"
"No." Scharis hesitated. "I kissed the girl, who is much like someone I once loved. She had been drinking wine and a drop hung on her lips. I tasted it."
Aillas groaned. "Then I must discover the antidote from Lord Daldace!"
Again Garstang joined him; the two roamed Meroe but nowhere could they find Lord Daldace.
The lights began to be extinguished; the two at last returned to their chamber. Scharis either slept or feigned sleep.
Morning light entered through high windows. The six men arose and somewhat glumly considered each other. Aillas said heavily. "The day has started. Let us be on our way; we will make our breakfast along the road."
At the gate the horses awaited them though the gatekeeper was nowhere to be seen. Not kn
owing what he might discover if he looked back, Aillas resolutely kept his head turned away from Villa Meroe. His comrades did likewise, so he noticed.
"Away, then, along the road, and let us forget the palace of dreams!"
The six galloped away with cloaks flapping behind. A mile down the road they halted to take breakfast. Scharis sat by himself to the side. His mood was abstracted and he showed no appetite.
Strange, thought Aillas, how loosely the trousers hung about his legs. And why did his jacket sag so oddly?
Aillas sprang to his feet but not before Scharis slid to the ground, where his clothes lay empty. Aillas dropped to his knees. Scharis' hat fell away; his face, a mask of a substance like pale parchment, slipped askew, and looked - somewhere.
Aillas slowly rose to his feet. He turned to ponder the way they had come. Bode came up beside him. "Let us ride on," said Bode gruffly. "Nothing can be gained by returning."
The road veered somewhat to the right, and, as the day progressed, began to lead up and down, to follow the contours of swells and swales. The soil grew thin; outcrops of rock appeared; the forest dwindled to sparse straggles of stunted yew and oak, then drew away to the east.
The day was full of wind; clouds raced overhead and the five rode through alternate spaces of sun and shade.
Sunset found them on a desolate fell among hundreds of weathered granite boulders as tall as a man or taller. Garstang and Cargus both declared them to be sarsens, though they stood without perceptible order or regularity.
Beside a rivulet the five halted for the night. They made beds of bracken and passed the night in no great comfort but disturbed only by the whistling of the wind.
At sunrise the five once more took to the saddle and proceeded south along the Trompada, here little more than a path wandering among the sarsen-stones.
At noon the road swung down from the fells to rejoin the River Siss, then followed the riverbank south.
Halfway through the afternoon the road arrived at a fork. By deciphering an age-worn sign-post, they learned that Bittershaw Road angled away to the southeast while the Trompada crossed a bridge and followed the Siss in a southerly direction.
The travelers crossed the bridge and half a mile along the road encountered a peasant leading a donkey loaded with faggots.
