Lyonesse II - The Green Pear and Madouc

by Jack Vance

  The creatures stood motionless, their bristling great heads turned-toward Aillas and Tatzel? Hairs prickled at the back of Aillas’ neck; these were not ogres or giants, or anything else of this world, nor would they seem to be demons. They were things beyond both knowledge and hearsay, and they would haunt his memory for a very long time. Tatzel, riding ahead, observed not the silent creatures, nor did she hear Aillas’ startled gasp.

  The creatures passed from sight; Aillas kicked his heels into the flanks of his horse and took his troop loping through the forest; the horses needed no urging.

  A few moments later they arrived at the edge of the brake and there discovered a trail which led them by an easy route down to the fifth brake, across and down the final slope to the shores of Lake Quyvem. Here the trail met the shoreside road and once more they had returned to the society of men.

  Along the eastern shore grew a thick pine forest; to the west were coves and rocky headlands. Two hundred yards ahead appeared a huddle of timber structures, including a hospice, or an inn.

  As Aillas and Tatzel rode along the road they came upon a boatwright’s workshop at the water’s edge and, nearby, a dock to which were moored half a dozen small boats.

  Out on the lake, a skiff approached the dock, sculled by a tall thin man with a long pallid face and lank black hair hanging to his shoulders. He brought the skiff close to the dock, made fast the painter, lifted out a basket of fish and stepped ashore. Here he paused to survey Aillas, Tatzel and their four horses with a slow and measured gaze.

  The fisherman brought his catch to the road where he set down the basket and addressed Aillas in a deep voice: “Travellers, whence have you come and where do you go?”

  Aillas replied: “We have come a goodly distance, over the moors from South Ulfland. Our destination will be decreed by Tshansin, Goddess of Beginnings and Endings, who walks on wheels.”

  The fisherman showed a smile of mildly amused contempt. “That is pagan superstition. I am not by nature a proselyter, but, truly, a unified wisdom rules the Tricosm, seeping from the roots of the Foundation Oak Kahaurok, to form the stars in the sky.”

  “That is the belief of the druids,” said Aillas. “It would seem that your own thinking is based on Druid doctrine.”

  “There is a single Truth.”

  “Perhaps someday I will look more deeply into the matter,” said Aillas. “At the moment I am interested in yonder inn, if such it be.”

  “The house you see is Kernuun’s Antler, and I am Dildahl, keeper of the house, which I maintain for the Arch-druids on their peregrinations out to the sacred places. Still, if wayfarers are prepared to pay my charges, I will extend them very comfortable facilities.”

  “What might be the order of these charges? Are they dear or modest? It is well to know such things in advance.”

  “All in all, my charges are fair. They vary from item to item, as might be expected. Lodging for the two of you in a private chamber equipped with pallets of clean straw and ewers of fresh water, I value at two copper pennies. A supper of lentils and bread, with a breakfast of porridge will cost another penny. Other dishes command higher prices. I serve excellent quail, four to the spit, for two copper pennies. A generous cut off a haunch of venison, with barley, currants, apples and nuts, is valued similarly. Fish is sold according to the season and the supply.”

  “I have heard that certain of your charges are exorbitant,” said Aillas. “Still, these quotations are not unreasonable.”

  “In this regard you must make your own assessment. In the past I have been victimized by swindlers and impoverished guttricks, so I have learned to protect myself from indigence.” Dildahl lifted his basket of fish. “Will I expect you then at the Antler?”

  “I must consider the contents of my wallet,” said Aillas. “I am not by any means a wealthy Arch-druid, to whom a handful of coppers as like an equal number of acorns.”

  Dildahl appraised the horses. “Still, you ride sound and valuable steeds.”

  “Ah, but these horses are all of value that I own.”

  Dildahl shrugged and departed.

  IV

  BY THE TIME AILLAS COMPLETED HIS TRANSACTIONS along the lakeshore the time was late afternoon. All wind had left the sky; the lake lay flat as a mirror, with each of the islands reflected in duplicate below.

  After considering sky, lake and landscape, Aillas told Tatzel: “It seems that we must entrust ourselves to the mercies of the voracious Dildahl, Restraint may be necessary, since I carry no large store of coins on my person. What of you?”

  “I have nothing.”

  “With ordinary caution, we should fare well enough, even though there is something about Dildahl which arouses my distrust.”

  The two presented themselves to the common room of Kernuun’s Antler, where Dildahl, now attired in a white apron and a white cap which to some extent confined his long black locks, seemed gratified to see them. “For a time I thought that you had decided to proceed on your way.”

  “We transacted a trifle of business, and then remembered the comforts of the Antler. Hence, you see us now.”

  “So be it! I can offer a suite of rooms customarily occupied by the most august of the druids, complete with baths of warm water and soap of olive oil, should you feel inclined to a measure of luxury-”

  “Still at a cost of two copper pennies? If so-”

  “There is a substantial difference in the rate,” said Dildahl.

  Aillas felt in his wallet and rattled the few coins which he found there. “We must moderate our desires to our means. I would not wish to lodge and dine like a priest and then find myself embarrassed when it came time to pay the tally.”

  Dildahl said: “In this regard, I usually insist that unreferenced guests post a declaration of surety with me, just precisely to avoid any awkward dilemmas. Please sign this paper.” So saying, Dildahl tendered a sheet of good parchment inscribed in a fine hand with the notification:

  Be It Hereby Known That I, the undersigned, now propose to take food and lodging for myself and my entourage at this inn known as Kernuun’s Antler, of which the Honourable Dildahl is the landlord. I agree to pay the proper and designated charges for chamberage, and also for such, food and drink as may be consumed by me and my entourage. As surety for the payment of these charges, I offer those horses now in my possession, together with their saddles, bridles, and other furniture. If I do not pay the charges stipulated on the account rendered by Dildahl said horses and adjuncts become the property of Dildahl in fee whole and simple.

  Aillas frowned. “This declaration has a somewhat menacing tone.”

  “It could alarm only a person who planned to avoid payment of his debt. Are you this sort of person? If so, I have no interest in placing before you the goods of my kitchen and the comforts of my rooms.”

  “That is fairly said,” remarked Aillas. “However, I could not sleep well unless I added a small proviso. Give me your pen.”

  “What do you intend to write?” demanded Dildahl in suspicion.

  “You shall see.” Aillas inscribed an addendum:

  This document should not be held to encompass the clothes worn by Aillas and his companion, nor their weapons, personal effects, ornaments, wine-sacks, keepsakes or other possessions. Aillas of Trotcinet

  Dildahl scrutinized the addendum, shrugged, and placed the parchment under the counter. “Come; I will show you to your chamber.”

  Dildahl took them to a pair of large pleasant rooms with windows overlooking the lake, and a separate bathroom. Aillas asked: “For these rooms the charge is two pennies?”

  “Of course not!” declared Dildahl in astonishment. “I understood that you wished to test the luxury of the Antler!”

  “Only at a price of two pennies.”

  Dildahl scowled. “The cheap chamber is dank, and furthermore is not ready.”

  “Dildahl, if you wish to hold me to payment of my account, then I must hold you to the charges quoted by you.”

>   “Bah!” muttered Dildahl, drooping his loose lower lip to show a purple maw. “For my own convenience, you may occupy these rooms for three pennies.”

  “Please render that quotation in writing, here and now, to avoid later misunderstanding.” Then, as he watched Dildahl writing: “No, no! Not three pennies apiece! Three pennies in total!”

  “You are a troublesome guest,” muttered Dildahl. “There is little profit in serving such as you.”

  “A man can spend only what he can afford! If he overreaches, he loses his horses!”

  Dildahl only grunted. “When will you dine?”

  “As soon as we freshen ourselves in this convenient bath.”

  “For such a price, I include no hot water.”

  “Ah well! Since we have incurred your displeasure, cold water must be our lot!”

  Dildahl turned away. “It is only your petty frugality which I find reprehensible.”

  “I hope you will instruct us in the ways of open-handed bounty when we take our supper.”

  “We shall see,” said Dildahl.

  At supper the two sat alone in the common room except for a pair of brown-cloaked druids bending low over their food in a corner of the room. They finished their meal and came to the counter to pay the score. Aillas strolled across the room and stood by as each laid down a copper penny and departed.

  Dildahl was somewhat annoyed by Aillas’ proximity to the transaction. “Well then? What will you eat?”

  “What is on your board tonight?”

  “The lentil soup is burned, and is off.”

  “The druids appeared to be eating fine brown trout. You may fry us a pair of these, with a salad of cress and garden stuff. What were the druids eating in their side dish?”

  “That was my specialty: crayfish tails with eggs and mustard.”

  “You may also serve us such a side dish, with some good bread and butter, and perhaps a fruit conserve.”

  Dildahl bowed. “At your order. Will you drink wine?”

  “You may bring us a flask of whatever wine you deem a good value for the price, but at all times, please keep our parsimony in mind. We are as niggardly as druids.”

  Aillas and Tatzel were served a dinner with which they could find no fault and Dildahl seemed almost civil. Tatzel eyed him with foreboding. “He seems to be making a large number of marks on his board.”

  “He can mark until doomsday for all of me. If he becomes insolent, you need only announce that you are Lady Tatzel of Castle Sank, and instantly he will moderate his manner. I know his kind.”

  “I thought that I was now Tatzel the slave-girl.”

  Aillas chuckled. “True! Your protests might not carry weight, after all.”

  The two retired and went to their couches; the night passed without incident.

  In the morning they ate a breakfast of porridge, bacon and eggs. Aillas then, counting on his fingers, arrived at what he considered a fair reckoning for the hospitality provided by Dildahl: a sum of ten copper pennies, or a silver half-florin.

  Aillas went to the counter to pay the score; here Dildahl, rubbing his hands briskly together, presented him a statement of charges, the grand total of which was three silver florins and fourpence.

  Aillas laughed and tossed back the statement. “I do not even intend to argue with you. Here is a silver half-florin, with an extra two pennies because the mustard was good. I now offer you this sum in payment; will you accept it?”

  “Certainly not!” declared Dildahl, his face flushing red and his lax lower lip drooping.

  “Then I will take the money back, and we will bid you good-day.”

  “Do you think to alarm me?” roared Dildahl. “I have your pledge at this moment next to my very hand! You have refused to pay my charges; therefore I claim ownership of your horses.”

  Aillas and Tatzel turned away from the counter. “Claim all you like,” said Aillas. “I own no horses. Yesterday, before our arrival, I traded them for a boat. Dildahl, farewell!”

  V

  THE BOAT WAS A CLINKER-PLANK SKIFF fifteen feet long with copper-riveted seams, a sprit-sail, lee-boards and a rudder swung off the transom in the new manner.

  Aillas rowed the skiff out into the lake, raised the sail to a morning breeze from the west and the boat scudded northward down the lake with the wake gurgling behind.

  Tatzel made herself comfortable in the bow, and Aillas thought that she seemed to be enjoying the freshness of the morning. Presently she looked over her shoulder: “Now where are you bound?”

  “As before, to Dun Cruighre in Godelia.”

  “Is that close to Xounges?”

  “Xounges is immediately across the Skyre.”

  Tatzel said no more. Aillas wondered as to her interest but forebore to ask.

  For two days they sailed the lake, passing the twelve Druid islets, and discovering on one a giant crow built of wicker-work, which provoked Tatzels wonder. Aillas told her: “In the fall, on the eve of the day they call ‘Suaurghille’, they will set the crow afire and conduct a great orgy below. Inside the crow will burn two dozen of their enemies. If we set foot on the island we would burn with the others. Sometimes it will be a horse, or a man, or a bear, or a bull.”

  At its northern end the lake became shallow and choked with reeds, but at length spilled out to become the headwaters of the River Solander. Three days later Aillas looked ahead to see the bluffs which flanked the Solander Estuary. On the right was the Kingdom of Dahaut; on the left, North Ulfland still.

  The estuary opened into the Skyre, and the skiff rode over larger waves than it might have liked, and far larger than Tatzel found comfortable, while the scent of salt water hung in the air. With the wind blowing brisk from the west, the skiff plunged ahead at four or five knots, throwing back cold spray, to add to Tatzel’s discomfort.

  Ahead, on the left, at the end of a stony peninsula, rose the fortified town Xounges; on the right now was Godelia, the land of the Celts, and at last Dun Cruighre came into view.

  Aillas looked along the docks and to his delight discovered not only a large Troice cargo cog, but also one of his new warships.

  Aillas sailed the skiff up to the side the warship. The sailors on deck looked curiously down. One called: “Ahoy there, fellow! Stand clear! What do you think you are up to?”

  Aillas called up: “Drop me a ladder and call the captain.”

  A ladder was lowered; Aillas made fast the skiff, steadied the ladder while Tatzel climbed to the deck, then he too followed. By this time the capain had appeared. Aillas took him aside. “Sir, do you recognize me?”

  The captain looked hard, and his eyes widened. “Your Majesty! What do you here in this condition?”

  “It is a long story which I will tell you presently. For now, know me merely as ‘Aillas’, no more. I am, so to speak, incognito.”

  “Just as you say, sir.”

  “The lady is Ska and under my protection. See if you can find her a place of privacy; let her bathe and give her clean clothes; she has been sick for three days now and would as soon die as live.”

  “At once, sir! And you will be wanting something of the same, I take it?”

  “If it is not too inconvenient for you, I would welcome a bath and a change of clothes.”

  “My convenience, sir, is not to be considered. Our facilities are not luxurious, but they are yours to command.”

  “Thank you, but first: what is the news from South Ulfiand?”

  “I can only give a third-hand report, but it is said that a Ska army from Suarach was caught in the open country by one of our armies. There was a great battle of a sort which will long be remembered. The Ska were sorely beset, and then another of our armies marching down from the east struck them from the rear and they were destroyed. I am told that Suarach is once more an Ulf city.”

  “And all this occurred during my absence,” said Aillas.

  “It appears that I am not as indispensable as I would like to think.”

 
“As to that, sir, I cannot say. We have been sailing the Narrow Sea, interdicting the Ska, and we have caused them great trouble. We are here now only to take on supplies. In fact, we were close upon casting off when you came aboard.”

  “What of King Gax across the way in Xounges? Is he still alive?”

  “It is said that he is finally dying and a Ska puppet will be the next king; that is the news which has come to us.”

  “Hold off your departure, if you will, and also show me where I can clean myself.”

  Half an hour later, Aillas encountered Tatzel in the captain’s cabin. She had discarded her old garments, bathed and now wore a gown of dark maroon linen which one of the seamen had been sent ashore to buy in the market. She came slowly close to Aillas and put her hands on his shoulders. “Aillas, take me, if you please, to Xounges and put me ashore on the dock! My father is now there on a special mission. I want nothing so much as to join him.” Tatzel searched Aillas’ face. “You are not truly an unkind man! I implore you, let me go free! I can offer you nothing but my body which you seem not to want, but you may have me now, and gladly, if you will deliver me to Xounges! Or if you want none of me, my father will reward you!”

  “Indeed!” said Aillas. “How?”

  “First, he will remit your slavery forever; you need never fear recapture! He will give you gold, enough that you may take up a piece of land in Troicinet, and never know want.”

  Aillas, looking into the mournful face, could not resist a laugh. “Tatzel, you are most persuasive. We shall go to Xounges.”

  Chapter 13