by Jack Vance
“Cast your mind back a few years,” said Aillas. “Granice was king of Troicinet. Ivar Excelsus of Dascinet thought to punish us by a war and called on Casmir for help. Casmir was only too anxious to bring his armies across the Lir, and if our ships had not smashed his armada, none of us would be dining here today at Miraldra. Has Casmir changed his spots? Obviously not.”
Maloof was not convinced. “Still, South Ulfland is not Dascinet.”
Witherwood asked him drily: “You believe, then, that if we are polite to Casmir, he will cause us no trouble?”
“We have nothing to lose,” said Maloof with dignity. “Anything is preferable to war.”
“Not anything,” said Langlark.
Aillas said: “None of us wants war, not even Casmir, who would prefer to build his triumph upon our weakness and folly. While I am king this will not be; still, I will work to keep the peace. You may be interested to learn that King Casmir and Queen Sollace are coming to Domreis for a state visit.”
“I consider that good news!” declared Maloof. “When will this be?”
“In about a month.”
Foirry gave a hoot of sardonic laughter. “What a farce is diplomacy!”
Aillas smiled. “As king I must be the very model of propriety, no matter how my guts roil inside me… .I have said more than I chose to say.”
The banquet came to an end. Aillas and Yane, with Glyneth and Dhrun, went to sit before a fire in one of the small parlours.
Aillas asked, “So then: what is the general consensus?”
Yane looked long into the flames. “It is hard to judge. Langlark and Foirry are unlikely because of the glass-merchant episode. Sion-Tansifer is no doubt brave, if perhaps a trifle single-minded. A traitor? Unlikely. Maloof? Witherwood? Pirmence? My intuition settles upon Maloof. He is anxious for peace and so is ready to make concessions. Many such folk are known to history; Maloof might even consider himself a great hero of secret diplomacy, appeasing Casmir and so fostering some farfetched concept of goodwill.
“Then there is Pirmence. He seems flexible and might be induced to spy for gold or from sheer boredom. He is one of that deceptively dangerous sort who, in the name of tolerance, will condone any sort of strange behavior-especially in himself.
“Witherwood? If he is a spy, his motives are hard to guess.”
IV
AT NOON OF THE DAY after the banquet, Lord Maloof reported to King Aillas upon the condition of the royal exchequer. Maloofs demeanor was somber and he brought bad news: “By reason of the incursion into South Ulfland, together with the costs of naval construction at the Tumbling River yards, our financial reserves have been reduced to a critical level.”
“Hmm,” said Aillas. “This does not make for good hearing.”
“I have long given warnings in this direction.” Maloof spoke with gloomy satisfaction. “Now the crows have come home to roost.”
“So it may be. … What of our Dascinet revenues: have they arrived?”
“Not yet, sir, nor the Scola moneys. Neither are due until next week.”
“For a week, then, we must live on the cheap. Before long, or so I hope, South Ulfland will be paying its own way. I have sent mining engineers to examine the old mines, which, so I am told, were never worked out, but simply abandoned because of bandits and robbers. Also, there may be alluvial gold in the rivers. They have never been worked and may eventually yield a large return: enough to pay all our expenses. What do you say to that?”
“So far, this flood of wealth is all hypothetical, and no doubt will require a substantial investment before we can so much as prove its existence.”
Aillas grinned. “Maloof, you have a most dampening habit of practicality! If worse comes to worst we shall rely for funds on that method known far and wide as ‘Old Infallible’: taxes! Squeeze them till their shoes squeak! Kings alone should be allowed the use of money! It is far too good for the common people.”
Maloof said sadly: “Sir, I suspect that you jest.”
“Not altogether. I intend to impose port taxes at Ys; so far they have gone unscathed. Also, we must start to collect those revenues from the Evander Valley which were formerly paid to Carfilhiot. So there is profit in sight! And sooner or later we will shake the barons loose from the hoarded gold they have gained by robbing from each other.”
Maloof frowned at what he considered flaws in the idea, but again decided that Aillas was indulging his humour. “A formidable program!” said Maloof.
Aillas laughed. “But in practice very simple. I shall dictate laws which I know they will break; then I will fine them large sums, which they must pay or be turned out upon the moors. I only wish I could do the same for King Casmir and his illicit warship, but I fear he would not pay his fines.”
Maloof raised his eyebrows in wonder. “You are not entitled to levy fines upon King Casmir!”
“Sadly true. Therefore I must use stronger measures.”
Again Maloof frowned in puzzlement. “How so?”
“Exactly two weeks from tonight a party of raiders will descend upon the shipyard at Sardilla and burn Casmir’s illicit hulk to the ground. In times to come Casmir will take his commitments more seriously.”
Maloof shook his head. “Risky business!”
“Less risky than allowing Casmir a fleet of warships.”
Maloof had no more to say and took his leave. Later in the day Aillas spoke with Lord Pirmence to whom he imparted the same information.
Still later, toward the end of the afternoon, Aillas let slip to Lord Witherwood and Lord Sion-Tansifer together that the raid at Sardilla would occur in precisely ten days.
Meanwhile, Sir Tristano assured Foirry and Langlark that the raid would take place in twenty days, even though these two were not considered prime suspects.
Early the next day Sir Tristano set off at speed to Sardilla in Caduz, that he might discover which of the three reports prompted countermeasures.
In due course Sir Tristano returned, bone-weary from hard riding and a rough passage across the Lir. Aillas and Yane heard his report with great interest. On the tenth night, no unusual precautions were put into force. On the night of the two-week interval, a hundred heavily armed warriors had lain in ambush, and through a long dismal night awaited an aasault which never came. For full verification, Tristano had delayed until the twentieth night had passed, without event, and then had returned homeward.
“Three facts are now clear,” said Aillas. “First, the ship has definitely been commissioned by Casmir. Second, a traitor sits on my Council of Ministers. Third, he is either Maloof or Pirmence.”
“Either one fits the role,” said Yane. “What now?”
“For the moment, stealth. Let us identify our man without causing him alarm.”
V
REPORTS HAD REACHED AILLAS as to rich deposits of bog-iron in South Ulfland, not far from Oaldes, and he had requested that Maloof discover the costs involved in the construction of a foundry.
The figures, as submitted by Maloof, seemed remarkably high. Aillas considered them a moment without comment, then put the document aside. “The project clearly demands a closer scrutiny. At the moment my mind wanders; I could not sleep last night for dreaming.”
Maloof showed polite concern. “Indeed, sir! Dreams are prodromes of future truth! They provide bodes which we ignore to our risk!”
“The dreams of last night were remarkably vivid,” said Aillas. “They concerned the forthcoming visit of King Casmir. As his ship entered the harbor, I saw Casmir on the deck bare-headed, as clearly as I now see you. He turned away, and a voice spoke into my ear: ‘Watch with care! If his hat shows two plumes, blue and green in color, he proves himself friend and faithful ally! If he wears a single yellow plume, he is a treacherous enemy who must be destroyed at any cost!’ Three times the voice spoke these words! But when I turned to watch as Casmir donned his hat, I was called aside and never could see.”
“A remarkable dream!” said Maloof.
> Later, Aillas recounted his remarkable dream to Pirmence: “-the voice spoke in the tones of an oracle. ‘Heed the hat which Casmir puts to his head! If it shows a silver medal in the shape of a bird, he is friend and ally! If he displays a golden lion, he signals his treachery!’ So spoke the voice, and I am in a quandary. I cannot rule a kingdom on the basis of dreams, yet I might be ignoring true portents to our general danger! What is your opinion?”
Pirmence stroked his silver-gray beard. “I am a practical man; as such I accept anything of value, whatever its source. What sort was the hat?”
“A simple turret of crushed black velvet, lacking brim or standing crown.”
“Let me suggest this: observe how closely Casmir’s hat matches the hat of your dreams; then be guided by the nature of the emblem.”
VI
FROM THE TERRACE of Miraldra’s north tower, Aillas and others watched the approach of the carrack Star Regulus from Lyonesse: a heavy vessel, blunt of bow and high of poop, and a brave sight with both foresail and mainsail bellied and straining and with red and yellow banderoles streaming from the mast-heads.
The carrack entered the harbor and the crew smartly brailed up the sails. Work-boats brought out lines and the Star Regulus was warped to the dock beside Miraldra, and there moored to bollards.
King Aillas now waited on the jetty, along with twenty grandees of the realm and their ladies. A gangplank was raised to the carrack’s well-deck, where the stir of splendid personages could be glimpsed. A crew of liveried footmen rolled a strip of rose plush carpet across the dock from gangplank to the three high-backed chairs of state, where King Aillas waited with Prince Dhrun at his right and Princess Glyneth to his left6.
On the deck of the Star Regulus a stately gentleman stepped forward: King Casmir. At the head of the gangway he paused and was joined by a lady of noble proportions with blonde hair coiled at her ears and netted under white pearls: Queen Sollace. Looking neither right nor left the two descended the gangway to the dock.
Aillas came forward. His gaze went to Casmir’s hat: a turret of black velvet, lacking both crown and brim. A silver medal in the shape of a bird adorned the front of the hat; a pair of plumes, blue and green, rose to the side.
Behind Queen Sollace came Prince Cassander and the Princess Madouc. Cassander, a sturdy youth of fifteen, wore a smart green cap over his brass-yellow curls. He was clearly the son of his father and had already adopted certain kingly mannerisms. His round blue eyes, as he surveyed the company, were a trifle minatory, as if to warn all against the slightest disrespect.
In contrast, the Princess Madouc, a long-legged urchin with russet curls, clearly cared nothing either for dignity or the company’s approval; after a single brief glance she dismissed them all from her consciousness, and came hopping and jumping down the gangplank like an active young kitten. She wore a long gown of orange-russet velvet tied at the waist with a black sash; her hair, approximately the colour of her gown, hung in loose ringlets. Madouc’s mind was clearly as active as her conduct; her snub-nosed little face registered each trifling shift of mood with total transparency. Aillas, who well knew her antecedents, watched her with amusement. Evidently the rumors of Madouc’s precocity and exuberant wilfulness had not been exaggerated.
King Casmir, as he offered his arm to Queen Sollace at the foot of the gangplank, gave Madouc a cold glance of admonition, then turned to greet King Aillas.
A half dozen other notables of Lyonesse, in careful order of precedence, descended the gangplank with their ladies, to be announced with appropriate gusto by Miraldra’s Chief Herald.
Last to leave the ship were a pair of the queen’s personal attendants and, finally, the Christian priest Father Umphred, a portly figure in a plum-colored cassock.
After the formal welcomes, Casmir and Sollace were escorted to their chambers, where they might rest and refresh themselves after the inconveniences of their voyage.
Later in the evening King Aillas sat as host at a casual supper, the full state banquet would be served on the following day. Both Aillas and Casmir dealt austerely with plate and goblet, and both rose sober from the table. They repaired to a private parlour, and, sitting before the fire, sipped a heavy golden Olorosa and discussed those matters which interested them. Neither, however, saw fit to mention the ship being built to Casmir’s order in Caduz.
Casmir somewhat quizzically spoke of the fortifications at Kaul Bocach, the gorge which contained the road between Lyonesse and South Ulfland. “Even without fortifications, twenty determined men can guard the way against an army. But I am told that now fortress frowns over fortress, that every approach is protected by traps, walls and barbicans, so that impregnability is reinforced a dozen times over. Similarly with Tintzin Fyral, where now the mountain Tac Tor is crowned with a fort as harsh as Tintzin Fyral itself. I cannot understand these feverish preparations, since we have ratified between us treaties which make such works redundant.”
“Your information is correct,” said Aillas. “The fortifications have been augmented, and certainly they guard against invasion from Lyonesse. But is not the rationale clear? You are not immortal; imagine, if you will, that a monarch cruel, treacherous and warlike came to rule Lyonesse! Let us suppose that this monarch, for reasons beyond conjecture, decided to attack Ulfland-well then! We are prepared for him and if he is sane he will be dissuaded.”
Casmir showed a wintry smile. “I grant a theoretical basis for this line of thought, but is it not, in practice, somewhat farfetched?”
“I certainly hope so,” said Aillas. “May I pour you more of this wine? It is produced on my own estate.”
“Thank you; it is very fine indeed. The wines of Troicinet are not as well known at Haidion as they should be.”
“That, of course, is a lack easy to overcome, and I shall see to it.”
Casmir thoughtfully lifted the goblet, swirled the wine and watched the golden ripples. “It is hard to recall the harsh old times when bad blood existed between our peoples.”
“All things change,” said Aillas.
“Exactly! Our treaty, signed in the heat of ruffled feelings, stipulated that Lyonesse should build no warships, on an outmoded presumption. Now that amity has returned-”
“Just so!” declared Aillas. “The present equilibrium has served us well! It is a balance which encourages peace across all the Elder Isles. This balance and this peace are vital to us and form the basis of our foreign policy.”
“Oh?” King Casmir frowned. “And how can you implement so broad a policy?”
“The principle is simple enough. We can allow neither Lyonesse nor Dahaut to gain ascendancy over the other, because then our own security would disappear. Should King Audry attack Lyonesse and by some miracle gain advantage, then we must join the war on the side of Lyonesse until the stasis returns; and vice versa.”
Casmir managed an easy laugh and, draining his goblet, set down the empty vessel with a thump. “I wish that my own goals could be so easily defined. Alas! They depend on such ineffable considerations as justice, the redressment of old wrongs, and the thrust of history.”
Aillas poured wine into Casmir’s goblet. “I do not envy you your maze of uncertainties. Still, you need be at no doubt in regard to Troicinet. Should either Lyonesse or Dahaut grow strong enough to menace the other, then we must throw our strength behind the weaker. In effect, you are protected by a strong navy without incurring any of the expense.”
King Casmir rose to his feet. He spoke somewhat curtly. “I am tired after the voyage, and I will now bid you good evening.”
Aillas, rising, said: “I hope that your rest will be comfortable.”
The two went to the drawing room where Queen Sollace sat with ladies of both courts. King Casmir went only to the doorway and bowed stiffly to the occupants of the room. Queen Sollace rose to her feet, bade the company goodnight and the two were escorted to their chambers by footmen bearing flamboys.
Aillas returned along the great gallery
toward his parlour. From the shadows stepped a stout person in a plum-red cassock. “King Aillas! A moment of your time, if you please!”
Aillas stopped and surveyed the rubicund face of Father Umphred, as he now called himself. Aillas pretended no cordiality. “What do you want?”
Umphred chuckled. “I thought, first of all, to renew our old acquaintance.”
Aillas, from sheer distaste, moved back a step. Nothing daunted, Umphred spoke on. “As you may know, I have successfully brought the Holy Message to Lyonesse Town. King Casmir almost certainly will sponsor the construction of a noble cathedral, to glorify the name of God within the precincts of his happy city. If so much transpires, I may well wear the mitre.”
“This is nothing to me,” said Aillas. “In fact, I am surprised that you dare show your face in my presence.”
With a jovial smile and a flourish of the hand, Father Umphred erased every vestige of ill-feeling which might have existed between the two. “I bring to Troicinet the joyous message of the Gospels! Pagan pomp still holds sway in Troicinet, Dascinet and South Ulfland. Nightly I pray that I may bring King Aillas and all his people into the glory of the true faith!”
“I have neither time nor inclination for such matters,” said Aillas. “My people believe or disbelieve as they see fit, and that is the way of it.” He started to turn away, but Father Umphred put a soft white hand on his arm. “Wait!”
Aillas turned. “Well then, what now?”
Father Umphred smiled a rich and tender smile. “I pray for your personal salvation, and also that, like King Casmir, you will encourage the construction of a cathedral at Domreis the better to disseminate the Truth of God! And, if you like, to rival in splendor the cathedral at Lyonesse Town, and I might hope for the arch-bishopric itself!”
