Lyonesse
Page 46
The commander and four survivors were sent south with a message:
CASMIR, KING OF LYONESSE: TAKE NOTE!
The fortress Kaul Bocach is once more ours, and the interlopers from Lyonesse have been killed and expelled. Neither trickery nor all the valor of Lyonesse will again take Kaul Bocach from us. Enter South Ulfland at your peril! Do you wish to test your armies against our Ulfish might? Come by way of Poelitetz; you will find it safer and easier.
I sign myself
Goles of Cleadstone Castle, Captain of the Ulf armies At Kaul Bocach.
The night was dark and moonless; around Tintzin Fyral the mountains bulked black against the stars. In his high tower Carfilhiot sat brooding. His attitude suggested impatience, as if he were waiting for some signal or occurrence which had failed to show itself. At last he jumped to his feet and went to his workroom. On the wall hung a circular frame something less than a foot in diameter, surrounding a gray membrane. Carfilhiot plucked at the center of the membrane, to draw out a button of substance which grew rapidly under his hand to become a nose of first vulgar, then extremely large size: a great red hooked member with flaring hairy nostrils.
Carfilhiot gave a hiss of exasperation; tonight the sandestin was restless and frolicsome. He seized the great red nose, twisted and kneaded it to the form of a crude and lumpy ear, which squirmed under his fingers to become a lank green foot. Carfilhiot used both hands to cope with the object and again produced an ear, into which he uttered a sharp command: "Hear! Listen and hear! Speak my words to Tamurello at Faroli. Tamurello, do you hear? Tamurello, make response!"
The ear altered to become an ear of ordinary configuration. To the side a nubbin twisted and curled to form a mouth, shaped precisely like Tamurello's own mouth. The organ spoke, in Tamurello's voice: "Faude, I am here. Sandestin, show a face."
The membrane coiled and twisted, to become Tamurello's face, save for the nose, where the sandestin, from carelessness, or perhaps caprice, placed the ear it had already created.
Carfilhiot spoke earnestly: "Events are fast in progress! Troice armies have landed at Ys and the Troice king now calls himself King of South Ulfland. The barons have not stayed him, and I am isolated."
Tamurello made a reflective sound. "Interesting."
"More than interesting!" cried Carfilhiot. "Today two emissaries came to me. The first ordered that I surrender myself to the new king. He uttered no compliments and no guarantees, which I regard as a sinister sign. Naturally I refused to do this."
"Unwise! You should have declared yourself a loyal vassal, but far too ill either to receive visitors or come down from your castle, thereby offering neither challenge nor pretext."
"I obey no man's bidding," said Carfilhiot fretfully.
Tamurello made no comment. Carfilhiot went on. "The second emissary was Shimrod."
"Shimrod!"
"Indeed. He came in company with the first, skulking in the shadows like a ghost, then springing forth to demand his two children and his magic stuff. Again I gave refusal."
"Unwise, unwise! You must learn the art of graceful acquiescence, when it becomes a useful option. The children are useless to you, as are Shimrod's stuffs. You might have ensured his neutrality!"
"Bah," said Carfilhiot. "He is a trifle compared to you—whom, incidentally, he maligned and scorned."
"In what wise?"
"He said that you were undependable, that your word was not true and that you would not secure me from harm. I laughed at him."
"Yes, just so," said Tamurello in an abstracted voice. "Still, what can Shimrod do against you?"
"He can visit an awful magic upon me."
"So to violate the edict? Never. Are you not the thing of Desmei? Are you not possessed of magical apparatus? Thereby you become a magician."
"The magic is locked in a puzzle! It is useless!" Murgen may not be convinced. After all, the apparatus was stolen from Shimrod, which must be regarded as provocation of one magician by another."
Tamurello chuckled. "But remember this! At that time you lacked magical implements and so were a layman."
"The argument seems strained."
"It is logic; no more, no less."
Carfilhiot was still dubious. "I kidnapped his children, which again could be construed as ‘incitement.'"
Tamurello's response, even transmitted through the lips of the sandestin, seemed rather dry. "In that case, return Shimrod his children and his goods."
Carfilhiot said coldly: "I now regard the children as hostages to guarantee my own safety. As for the magical stuffs, would you prefer that I use them in tandem with you, or that Shimrod use them to support Murgen? Remember, that was our original concept."
Tamurello sighed. "It is the dilemma reduced to its starkest terms " he admitted. "On this basis, if no other, I must support you. Still, under no circumstances may the children be harmed, since the chain of events would at the end certainly confront me with Murgen's fury."
Carfilhiot spoke in his usual airy tones. "I suspect that you exaggerate their significance."
"Nevertheless you must obey!"
Carfilhiot shrugged. "Oh I shall humor your whims, right enough."
The sandestin precisely reproduced Tamurello's small tremulous laugh. "Call them what you like."
Chapter 31
WITH THE COMING OF DAYLIGHT the Ulf army, still a mutually suspicious set of small companies, struck camp and mustered in the meadow before Cleadstone Castle: two thousand knights and men-at-arms. There they were shaped into a coherent force by Sir Fentaral of Graycastle who, of all the barons, was most generally respected. The army then set off across the moors.
Late the following day they established themselves on that ridge overlooking Tintzin Fyral from which the Ska had previously attempted an assault.
Meanwhile, the Troice army moved up the vale, encountering only incurious stares from the inhabitants. The valley seemed almost uncanny in its stillness.
Late in the day the army arrived at the village Sarquin, within view of Tintzin Fyral. At the behest of Aillas, elders of the town came to a colloquy. Aillas introduced himself and defined his goals. "Now I wish to establish a fact. Speak in candor; the truth will not hurt you. Are you antagonistic to Carfilhiot, or neutral, or do you support him?"
The elders muttered among themselves and looked over their shoulders toward Tintzin Fyral. One said: "Carfilhiot is a man-witch. It is best that we take no stance in the matter. You are able to strike off our heads if we displease you; Carfilhiot can do worse when you are gone."
Aillas laughed. "You overlook the reason for our presence. When we leave Carfilhiot will be dead."
"Yes, yes; others have said the same. They are gone; Carfilhiot remains. Even the Ska failed so much as to trouble him."
"I remember the occasion well," said Aillas. "The Ska retired because of an approaching army."
"That is true; Carfilhiot mobilized the valley against them.
"We prefer Carfilhiot, who is a known if erratic evil, to the Ska, who are more thorough."
"This time there will be no army to succor Carfilhiot: not from north or south or east or west will help come."
The elders again muttered among themselves. Then: "Let us suppose that Carfilhiot falls, what then?"
"Yoy will know a just and even rule; I assure you of this."
The elder pulled at his beard. "It makes good hearing," he admitted; then, after a glance at his fellows, he said: "The situation is of this nature. We are staunchly faithful to Carfilhiot, but you have terrified us to the point of panic, and therefore we must do your bidding, despite our inclinations, if Carfilhiot ever should ask."
"So be it. What, then, can you tell us of Carfilhiot's strength?"
"Recently he has augmented his castle guard, with wolf-heads and cutthroats. They will fight to the death because they can expect nothing better elsewhere. Carfilhiot forbids them to molest the folk of the valley. Still, girls often disappear and are never again heard from; and t
hey are permitted to take women from the moors, and they also practice indescribable vices among themselves, or so it is said."
"What is their present number?" "I guess between three and four hundred."
"That is not a large force."
"So much the better for Carfilhiot. He needs only ten men to hold off your entire army; the others are extra mouths to feed. And beware Carfilhiot's tricks! It is said that he uses magic to his advantage, and he is an expert at his ambushes."
"How so? In what fashion?"
"Notice yonder: bluffs extend into the valley, with little more than an arrow-flight between. They are riddled with tunnels; were you to march past a hail of arrows would strike down and in one minute you would lose a thousand men."
"Just so, if we were rash enough to march under the bluffs. What else can you tell us?"
"There is little else to tell. If you are captured you will sit a high pole until your flesh rots away in rags. That is how Carfilhiot pays off his enemies."
"Gentlemen, you may go. I thank you for your advice."
"Remember, I spoke only in a hysteria of fear!"
That will be the way of it."
Aillas marched his army another half-mile. The Ulf army occupied the heights behind Tintzin Fyral. No word had yet arrived from the force which had set out to take Kaul Bocach; presumably it had succeeded.
The exits and entrances to Tintzin Fyral were sealed. Carfilhiot must now trust his life to the impregnability of his castle.
In the morning a herald carrying a white flag rode up the valley. He halted before the gate and cried out: "Who will hear me? I bring a message for Sir Faude Carfilhiot!"
On top the wall stepped the captain of the guard, wearing Carfilhiot's black and lavender: a massive man with gray hair flowing back on the wind. He cried out in booming tones: "Who brings messages to Sir Faude?"
The herald stepped forward. "The armies of Troicinet and South Ulfland surround the castle. They are led by Aillas, King of Troicinet and South Ulfland. Will you convey the message I bring, or will the miscreant descend to hear with his own ears and answer with his own tongue?"
"I will convey your message."
"Tell Faude Carfilhiot that, by order of the king, his rule at Tintzin Fyral is ended, and that he remains in occupation as an outlaw, without franchise from his king. Tell him that his crimes are notorious and bring great shame to him and his henchmen, and that a requital is forthcoming. Tell him that he may ameliorate his fate by surrendering at this instant. Tell him further that Ulf troops control Kaul Bocach, to bar the armies of Lyonesse from Ulfland, so that he may expect no succor from King Casmir, nor anyone else."
"Enough!" cried the captain in a vast roaring voice. "I can remember no more!" He turned and jumped down from the wall. Presently he could be seen riding up the road to the castle.
Twenty minutes passed. The captain returned down the road and once more ascended the wall. He called: "Sir Herald, listen well! Sir Faude Carfilhiot, Duke of Vale Evander and Prince of Ulfland, knows nothing of Aillas, King of Troicinet, and does not acknowledge his authority. He requires the invaders to leave this domain which is alien to them, on pain of bitter war and awful defeat. Remind King Aillas that Tintzin Fyral has known a dozen sieges and has succumbed to none."
"Will he or will he not surrender?"
"He will not surrender."
"In that case, make announcement to your fellows and all those who bear arms for Carfilhiot. Tell them that all who fight for Carfilhiot and shed blood on his behalf will be deemed no less guilty than Carfilhiot and will share his fate."
Dark moonless night fell across Vale Evander. Carfilhiot climbed to the flat roof of his high tower and stood in the wind. Two miles down the valley a thousand campfires created a flickering carpet, like a drift of red stars. Much closer a dozen other fires rimmed the northern ridge and suggested the presence of many more across the ridge, away from the wind. Carfilhiot turned and, to his startled dismay, at the top of Tac Tor he saw three more fires. They might well have been built only to daunt him, and so they did. For the first time he felt fear: first, a gnawing edge of wonder if possibly, by some tragic failure of fate, Tintzin Fyral might, on this occasion, fall to a siege. The thought of what would happen were he captured sent a clammy coldness down through his bowels.
Carfilhiot touched the harsh stone of the parapets for reassurance. He was secure! How could his magnificent castle fall? In the vaults were stores for a year or even longer; he had ample water from an underground spring. A gang of a thousand sappers, working night and day, in theory, might excavate the base of the cliff so as to topple the castle; practically the idea was absurd. And what could his enemies hope to achieve from the top of Tac Tor? The castle was protected by the width of the chasm: A long bow-shot. Archers on Tac Tor might cause a harassment until screens were raised against the arrows, whereupon their efforts became futile. Only from the north would Tintzin Fyral seem vulnerable. Since the Ska attack Carfilhiot had augmented his defenses, providing ingenious new systems against any who might hope to use a battering-ram.
So Carfilhiot reassured himself. Further, and superseding all else, Tamurello had avowed support. Should supplies run short, Tamurello could replenish them by magic. In effect, Tintzin Fyral might stand secure forever!
Carfilhiot looked once more around the circle of night, then descended to his workroom, but Tamurello, through absence, neglect, or design, would not talk with him.
In the morning Carfilhiot watched as the Troice army advanced almost to the base of Tintzin Fyral, evading his ambush by marching single-file behind a screen of shields. They cut down his impaling poles, released the stretched men of Femus Castle from their weights, and set up camp on the meadow. Trains of supplies moved up the valley and along the ridge, preparations of an unhurried and methodical sort, which caused Carfilhiot new apprehension despite all logic to the contrary. There was peculiar activity on top of Tac Tor and Carfilhiot watched the skeletons of three enormous catapults take shape. He had thought Tac Tor a place of no danger, by reason of its steep slopes, but the cursed Troice had found the trail and with ant-like industry, piece by piece, had carried to the summit the three great catapults now rearing against the sky. Surely the range was too far! Thrown boulders would simply bounce away from the castle walls and menace the Troice encampment below. So Carfilhiot assured himself. On the north ridge six other siege-engines were under construction, and again Carfilhiot felt queasiness to see the efficiency of the Troice engineers. The engines were massive, designed with great precision. They would in due course be brought close to the edge of the cliff; in just such a fashion the Ska had ranged their engines... As the day wore on Carfilhiot began to doubt, and the doubts deepened to rage: the engines were set up well to the safe side of his collapsible platform. How had they learned of this danger? From the Ska? Reverses from all directions! A thud and a shock as something struck the side of the tower.
Carfilhiot swung around aghast. On Tac Tor he saw the arm of one of the great catapults swing up and snap to halt. A boulder climbed high into the air, made a slow arc and slanted down toward the castle. Carfilhiot threw his hands over his head and crouched. The stone missed the tower by five feet and hissed past to land near the drawbridge. Carfilhiot took no pleasure in the miss; these were ranging shots.
He ran down the stairs and ordered a squad of archers to the roof. They went to the battlements; they placed their bows to the merlons, lay back and held the bows with a foot. They drew to the fullest draught and loosened. The arrows arched high across the gulf, then slanted down to strike the slopes of Tac Tor. A futile exercise.
Carfilhiot cried out a curse and waved his arms in defiance. Two of the catapults launched together; two boulders hurtled high, completed their arcs, slanted down their final courses and plunged into the roof. The first killed two archers and broke the roof; the second missed Carfilhiot by ten feet, to plunge through the roof and into his high parlor. The surviving archers scrambled down t
he stairs followed by Carfilhiot.
For an hour boulders struck down upon the roof of the tower, destroying the battlements, bursting in the roof and breaking the roof-beams, so that they protruded half in the air, half-down to the floor below.
The engineers altered the aim of their machines and began to break in the walls of the tower. It became clear, that in a period of time to be measured in days, the engines on Tac Tor alone could batter the tower of Tinfzin Fyral to its foundation.
Carfilhiot ran to the frame in his workroom and now succeeded in making contact with Tamurello. "The army is attacking from the heights with enormous weapons; help me or I am doomed!"
"Very well," said Tamurello in a heavy voice. "I will do what must be done."
On Tac Tor Aillas stood where he had stood before, during a different era of his life. He watched as the flung stones crossed the gulf to batter Tintzin Fyral, then spoke to Shimrod: "The war is over. He has nowhere to go. Stone by stone we dismantle his castle. It is time for another parley."
"Let's give him another hour of it. I feel his mood. It is fury but not yet despair."
Across the sky moved a crepuscule. It settled to the top of Tac Tor and exploded with a small sound. Tamurello, taller by a head than ordinary men, stood facing them. He wore a suit of gleaming black scales and a silver fish-head helmet. Under black brows his eyes glared round with rings of white surrounding the black iris. He stood on a ball of flickering force which subsided, lowering him to the ground. He looked from Aillas to Shimrod and back to Aillas. "When we met at Faroli I failed to recognize your high estate."
"At that time I lacked such estate."
"Now you expand your grasp across South Ulfland!"
"The land is mine by right of lineage and now by force of conquest. Both are valid entitlements."
Tamurello made a sign. "In peaceful Vale Evander, Sir Faude Carfilhiot maintains a popular rule. Conquer elsewhere, but stay your hand here. Carfilhiot is my friend and ally. Call away your armies, or I must exert my magic against you."
Shimrod spoke. "Desist, before you cause yourself embarrassment. I am Shimrod. I need speak a single word to summon Murgen. I was forbidden to do so unless you made prior interference. Since you have done so I now call on Murgen to intercede. "