by Jack Vance
Visbhume enjoyed other activities as well. He dozed in the sunlight, took short strolls along the shore, and tried to induce the serving maids to accompany him on these strolls. He was especially interested in the flaxen-haired butter-and-milk girl, whose body, despite her youth, had started to show a number of appealing aspects.
Visbhume’s interest in her attributes became so forthright that the innkeeper came out to chide him: “You, sir, I must ask you to mend your ways! These little maids do not know how to cope with your lewdness. I have told them to throw a good drench of cold water on you if you fondle them again.”
Visbhume said haughtily: “Fellow, you are presuming far out of your place!”
“That is as may be. In any case, let us have no more of your leers and probing fingers and invitations down the shore.”
“This is sheer insolence!” stormed Visbhume. “Be warned! I am almost prompted to take my custom elsewhere!”
“Do as you like; there will be no grief at Three Lampreys! Truth to tell, with your constant tapping and prancing of the feet, you are alarming my regulars; they think you a natural and as I reflect on it, so do I. By the statutes of law I cannot turn you out unless you commit a nuisance, and you have veered yourself very close. Beware!”
Visbhume declared in all dignity: “Innkeeper, you are surly and dull. The girls enjoy my little play; if not, they would never come so often, lilting and tittling, flirting and showing their things; just so.”
“Aha! You will find how they like it when they cool your play with good cold water. Meanwhile, you may also pay your score as of this moment, in case you become suddenly indignant and prance off by night.”
“That is a churlish remark to make to a gentleman!”
“No doubt. I am careful never to do so.”
“You have offended me,” said Visbhume. “I will pay the score and depart your premises at once. As for your gratuity, expect not even a groat.”
Visbhume departed and took up residence at the Sea Coral Inn on the other side of town, where he stayed another three days, continuing his studies of the Almanac. At last his calculations prompted him to be off about his affairs. He purchased a small cart drawn by a dainty little pony, which carried him along the road at a spanking pace, with a twinkling clack-clack-clack of varnished hooves. Past the Three Lampreys rode Visbhume, sitting proudly high on the seat, then along the road to Rundle River Valley, up the River Road to Green Man’s Gap, over and down upon the Ceald.
VII
A STRANGE SWEET MOOD had come over Glyneth of late. When in the company of her friends, or even with Dhrun, she often would have preferred solitude. And sometimes, when she had slipped away and was truly alone, then: perversity of perversities! an indefinable uneasiness afflicted her, as if somewhere wonderful events were in progress, and there she longed to be, though, poor forlorn girl, she had not been invited and no one even noticed her absence.
Glyneth became wistful and restless. At times fascinating images came to tease her, glimpses less substantial than daydreams, figments and fancies, of madcap revelries by moonlight; of fetes where she was adored by gallant strangers; of drifting over land and sea in a magic ship of the air, in the company of the one she loved most of all and who loved her no less.
With Dhrun gone from Domreis and then-schooling at recess, Glyneth dithered and wavered for a day or so, but without the presence of Dhrun or Aillas, Miraldra held no charm, and she took herself to Watershade, where she resolved that she would read all the books in Ospero’s library. She made a brave start, and read Lagronius: his Chronicles, and Memories of Nausicaa and even started to pick her way through The Iliad, but the dreamy moods came on her often, and the books were put aside.
When the lake lay calm and blue in the sunlight, she liked to row out into total solitude and lie back to watch the tall white clouds. There was no sweeter occupation; she seemed to become one with this world she loved so dearly, which was hers to enjoy and possess during her term. And sometimes the feelings became too intense and she rose up quickly, to sit with arms clasped around her knees, blinking back tears for the passing of halcyon moments.
So Glyneth indulged herself with romantic excesses, and at times wondered if someone had cast a glamour upon her. Dame Flora became vaguely worried because her darling Glyneth had not gone out to climb trees or jump fences.
As the days passed, Glyneth began to feel lonely. Occasionally she rode into the village to visit her friend the Lady Alicia at Black Oak Manor; as often she walked into the Wild Woods to pick strawberries.
The day before Dhrun was due to arrive, Glyneth arose early and after due consideration, decided to gather strawberries. She kissed Dame Flora goodbye and taking her basket, set off into the Wild Woods.
By noon Glyneth had not returned to Watershade, nor yet by sunset, and servants went out to search. They found nothing.
Early the next morning a messenger was despatched to Domreis; he met Dhrun along the way and both rode in haste to Castle Miraldra.
Chapter 10
I
FOR AILLAS, the Ska occupation of Suarach posed him more than a military dilemma; the action, so coldly deliberate, also inflicted a notable personal humiliation upon him. In the purview of the Ulfs, such a provocation compelled retort, since a person who suffered shame by the purposeful act of another carried the stink of the occasion upon him until his enemy had been punished or until he had died in the attempt. Hence, as Aillas went about his affairs, he felt conspicuous and tainted, and knew that every eye watched him.
Aillas ignored the covert attention as best he could and pressed the training of his brigades with even greater diligence. Of late he had noticed a gratifying new spirit among the troops: a briskness and precision where before the Ulfish slouch and reluctance to move to unfamiliar cadences had been more apparent. The changes would seem to reflect a grudging confidence in the army’s fighting efficiency. Aillas still wondered as to their stamina and cohesiveness in the face of ponderous and ominously careful onslaughts of the Ska, which in the past had destroyed not only North Ulfish armies, but also Godelian and Daut forces of superior number.
It was a cruel problem, with no comfortable solutions. If Aillas risked a confrontation and events went badly, his troops’ morale would be shattered and he would lose his credibility as a commander. The Ska, by occupying Suarach, apparently hoped to provoke him into a reckless set battle, where their heavy cavalry could demolish the Ulfish army as a hammer smashes a nut. Aillas had no intention of risking such an engagement, certainly not at this time. Still, if he waited too long before taking any action whatever, the Ulfs, who were temperamentally prompted to quick and savage response to provocation, might well become cynical and stale.
Sir Pirmence, returning from the high fells with a levy of conscripts, reinforced Aillas’ own fears. “You will never train them finer than they are now,” said Pirmence. “They need to test themselves and make sure that your heathen ideas are practical.”
“Very well,” said Aillas. “We shall put them to the test. But on ground of my own choosing.”
Pirmence hesitated and seemed to conduct an internal dialogue. At last he took a swaggering step forward and said: “I can also impart to you this report, which is well-founded: Castle Sank is a fortress across the border to the north.”
“As a matter of fact, I know it well,” said Aillas.
“The lord is the Duke Luhalcx. At this moment he has taken his family and much of his retinue to Skaghane, so that Sank is only lightly defended.”
“That is interesting news,” said Aillas. Two hours later he issued marching orders to six companies of Ulfish light cavalry and archers, two companies of Troice heavy cavalry, two companies of Troice infantry and a platoon of thirty-five Troice knights. They would depart Doun Darric at tomorrow’s sunset, that they might evade Ska surveillance.
Aillas was well aware that Ska spies monitored his movements. In order to neutralize their activity he had organized a squad of secr
et counterespionage police. Even before the issuance of marching orders Aillas sent his secret police out to strategic places around the camp, where they would be sure to intercept couriers attempting to carry information from Doun Darric.
The sun dropped into the west and twilight settled upon the camp. Aillas sat at his work-table studying maps. Outside he heard a scuffle of steps and muttered voices; the door opened and Sir Flews, his aide, looked into the room. “Sir, the police have made a capture.”
Sir Flews spoke with awe and suppressed excitement. Aillas straightened up from the table. “Bring them in.”
Six men entered the room, two with arms tied behind their backs. Aillas looked in slack-jawed wonder to see, first, a slim black-eyed young man with black hair cut in the Ska style, and, second, Sir Pirmence.
The captain of the police was Hilgretz, younger brother to Sir Ganwy of Koll Keep, and now he made his report. “We took up our posts, and almost immediately after dark noticed a flashing light from the camp. We deployed with care and captured the Ska at the crest of the hill, and when we followed the light to its source we came upon Sir Pirmence.”
“This is a sad situation,” said Aillas.
Sir Pirmence gave his full agreement. “It is cheerless indeed.”
“You betrayed me at Domreis, and I brought you here that you might redeem yourself; instead you have betrayed me again.”
Sir Pirmence looked at Aillas askance, like an old silver-haired fox. “You knew of my work in Domreis? How is this possible when it was so discreet?”
“Nothing is discreet when Yane starts looking into it. Both you and Maloof are traitors. Rather than kill you I thought to make use of your talents.”
“Ah Aillas, it was a gracious thought but over-subtle; I failed to grasp your intention. So poor Maloof has also transgressed.”
“He did and now he pays his debt. You also worked well and might have earned back your life, as I hope will Maloof.”
“Maloof dances to a different tune than I. More just to say, he hears no tune whatever and could not lift a leg if Terpsichore herself came to lead the measure.”
“At least he has desisted from his treachery, or so I suppose. Why have you not done likewise?”
Sir Pirmence sighed and shook his head. “Who knows? I hate you, and yet truly I love you. I sneer at your callow simplicity, but I glory in your enterprise. I crave your success, but I strive for your despair. What is wrong with me? Where is my flaw? Perhaps I wish that I were you, and since this cannot be I must punish you for the fault. Or if you prefer the crude facts, they are these: I was born to duplicity.”
“And what of Castle Sank? Was your information no more than bait to lure me and many good men to their deaths?”
“No, on my honour! Do you smile? Smile then. I am far too proud to lie. I gave you only the purest truth.”
Aillas looked to the Ska. “And you, sir: do you have anything to say?”
“Nothing.”
“You are a young man, with a long life ahead of you. If I spare this life, will you give me your parole never to work again to my detriment, or that of South Ulfland?”
“I could not in good faith make this guaranty.”
Aillas took Hilgretz aside. “I must put this matter into your hands. We cannot excite the camp by dangling Sir Pirmence and the Ska from a gibbet just before we march; there would be too many questions and too much conjecture.”
“Leave it to me, sir. I will take them into the woods, where all will go quietly.”
Aillas turned back to his maps. “Let that be the way of it.”
II
AFTERGLOW STILL COLOURED THE WEST; in the east a soft yellow moon rose above the Teach tac Teach. Aillas climbed upon the bed of a wagon and addressed his troops: “Now we go forth to fight. We are not waiting for the Ska to attack us; we are marching to attack the Ska. They are to know a new experience, and perhaps we can avenge a few of those crimes which they have worked upon this land.
“Now you know the reason for your long and hard training: that you may match the Ska in military skills. We are their equal except in one respect. They are veterans. They make few mistakes. I tell you now once more: we must carry out our battle-plans, no more and no less! Never be tempted by feints or by a seeming sudden advantage. Perhaps it is real, whereupon we will exploit the situation, but cautiously. More likely, it is false and you will lose your lives.
“We have a true advantage. The Ska are few in number. They cannot afford large losses, and this is our strategy: to maximize their losses and to minimize our own. That means: strike and break away! Attack! Retreat! Attack again! With the strictest attention to orders! Let us have no heroics, no proud gallantries: only competence and toughness.
“There is no more to be said. Good luck to us all.”
Four of the Ulfish companies and the two companies of Troice heavy cavalry, under the command of Sir Redyard, departed into the northeast, where they would guard the road between Suarach and Castle Sank. The other companies set off to the north toward Castle Sank itself, across a landscape of which Aillas already had bitter experience.19
Sank served as an administrative node for the district and as a waypoint for labor-gangs and slaves on the way to the great western fortress Poelitetz. The household at Sank, during Aillas’ stint as a domestic slave, consisted of Duke Luhalcx, his spouse Chraio, their son Alvicx, their daughter Tatzel, with numerous retainers. Aillas, dejected and lonely, had become to some extent infatuated with Tatzel, who, by the very nature of things, barely noticed his existence, if at all.
Tatzel at the time had been fifteen years old: a slim girl of verve and flair who carried herself in a jaunty carefree manner unique to herself: a style purposeful, extravagant and exuberant, if somewhat too abrupt and personal to qualify as pure grace. Aillas saw her as a creature luminous with imagination and intelligence, and he found every detail of her conduct entrancing. She walked with steps somewhat longer than necessary, with a kind of reckless swagger and an expression of pensive concentration and purpose, as if she were bound on a mission of the utmost importance. In typical Ska style her black hair was cut ear-length but retained enough curl to flow loosely. While slender and energetic, her contours were adequately rounded and feminine, and often, as Aillas watched her saunter past, he ached to reach out and seize her. Had he performed so rash an act and had she reported it to her father, he might well have been gelded, and he carefully kept his inclinations in check. Tatzel would now be in Skaghane with her family: a fact which caused Aillas more than a twinge of disappointment, since to meet Tatzel again under changed circumstances had been for a long period the stuff of his daydreams.
As the moon rose into the sky the columns departed Doun Darric. Aillas planned to march by night, with moonlight to show the way and scouts to warn of bogs and quagmires. During daylight hours, the troops would take concealment in a copse or a fold of the moors. If not intercepted or distracted by unforeseen circumstances, Aillas estimated that four nights of marching should bring the expedition close to Castle Sank. The land had been ravaged; they would meet no one along the way excepting a few crofters and small herdsmen, who cared nothing for the passage of troops by night, and Aillas had reason to hope that his band might arrive at Castle Sank unheralded.
Toward morning of the third day scouts led the troops out upon the main road leading down from the old tin mines: a road sometimes used by the Ska on forays into South Ulfland: a road which Aillas had once walked with a rope around his neck.
The troops took shelter and rested during the day, and at sunset continued their march. Still they had encountered no Ska parties, either small or large.
Shortly before dawn an odd droning rasping sound was heard in the distance, which Aillas recognized and identified: the voice of the sawmill, where heavy steel blades ten feet in length were driven up and down in reciprocating motion by the power of a waterwheel, to cut planks from pine and cedar logs carted down from the high Teach tac Teach by timber-cutt
ers.
Castle Sank was close at hand. Aillas would have preferred to rest his troops after the night’s march, but now there was no effective cover. By proceeding they would arrive at Sank during that languid hour before sunrise, when blood ran slow and responses were sluggish.
Not so in the South Ulfish troops; with pulses pounding they came at speed down the road, hooves slurring in the dust, harness jingling and metal clanking, dark shapes hunching across the pre-dawn sky.
Ahead loomed Castle Sank with a single great tower rising from the central citadel. “Straight on!” Aillas cried out. “Drive inside before they drop the outer gate!”
Fifty horsemen charged in a sudden pounding lunge, with the foot soldiers running behind. In their arrogance the Ska had neglected to swing shut the timber and iron doors in the outer walls; the Ulfish troops burst into the courtyard unchallenged. Before them the portal into the citadel and the inner castle
also stood wide, but the sentries, recovering from their initial immobility, reacted and the portcullis slammed down in the face of the charging knights.
From their barracks came a dozen Ska warriors, only half-dressed and half-armed; they were cut down and the battle, such as it was, came to an end.
On the walls of the citadel archers appeared, but the Ulfish archers, mounting the outer wall, killed several, and wounded several more, and the others took to cover. From the citadel a man jumped out on the roof, ran crouching to the stables, where he seized upon a horse and pounded away across the fells. Aillas ordered pursuit. “Chase him a mile or two, then let him get away. Tristano! Where is Tristano?”
“Here, sir.” Tristano was the second in command.
“Take a strong force to the sawmill. Kill the Ska and whoever resists you. Burn the warehouses and break the wheel, but leave the mill intact; someday we will find it useful. Work swiftly and bring back the labor-gangs. Flews! Send out scouts in all directions, that we may not be surprised in our turn.”
