by Jack Vance
The company rested for a space, then continued: up the hump of the spur, across barrens of scree, through dells shaded under cedars and pines, along ridges with windy spaces to either side, then once more back against the base mass of the Teach tac Teach, to climb by laborious slants and switchbacks, to come out at last upon the high moors, to find the sun already behind the western cloud banks. In the shelter of thirteen tall dolmens, the company made camp for the night.
In the morning, the sun rose red in the east, while a wind from the west sent low clouds streaming across the moor. The company of adventurers huddled close around the fire, each thinking his own thoughts and toasting bacon on a spit, while porridge bubbled in the pot. The horses were brought up and saddled; the party, bending low to the chill wind, set off across the moor. Crags of the Teach tac Teach, rearing high, one after the other in lonely isolation, dwindled away to right and left. Ahead rose Mount Sobh.
The trail had now disappeared; the company rode across the open moor, around the flanks of Mount Sobh, down through a stand of stunted pines to where a sudden panorama burst open before them: ridges and slopes, dark valleys choked with conifers, then the low moors and a nondescript murk, where vision could no longer penetrate the distance. From somewhere a trail had once again appeared, slanting down the slope and into a forest of pines and cedars.
Something white glimmered ahead. The company, approaching, discovered the skull of an elk nailed to the trunk of a pine tree. At this point Tern pulled up his horse. Cory rode up beside him. "What now?"
"I go no farther," said Tern. "Behind the tree hangs a brass horn; blow three blasts and wait."
Cory paid him in silver coins. "You have guided us well; good luck to you."
Tern turned about and departed, leading his two packhorses. Cory surveyed his company. "Este of Rome! You are ac counted a musician of sorts! Find the horn and send three good blasts ringing down the valley!"
Este dismounted and approached the tree, where he found a brass horn of three coils hanging on a peg. He put it to his lips and blew three sweet strong tones which seemed to echo on and on.
Ten minutes passed. Travec sat his dun hammer-headed horse to the side, apart from the others. He muttered: "Voner! Skel! Do you hear me?"
"Naturally we hear you, quite as well as need be."
"Are you aware of this place?"
"It is a great up-fold in the mother-stuff of the world. A scurf of vegetation shades the sky. Three furtive scoundrels peer at us from the shadows."
"What of the green seep from Xabiste?"
"Nothing of consequence," said Voner. "A wisp from yonder declivity, no more."
"Not enough to excite our interest," said Skel.
Travec said: "Still, after this, alert me to any green taint whatever, since it might indicate a node of green."
"Just as you say. Should we make ourselves known and destroy yonder stuff?"
"Not yet. We must learn more of where and how it arises."
"As you like."
Behind Travec spoke a rasping voice; turning, Travec looked into the face of Kegan the Celt. "How gratifying must be the comfort of these intimate conversations with yourself!"
"I repeat my lucky slogans; what of that?"
"Nothing whatever," said Kegan. "I have foolish quirks of my own. I can never kill a woman without first uttering a prayer to the goddess Quincubile."
"That is only sensible. I see that Este's blasts have brought response."
From the forest came a yellow-haired yellow-bearded man, tall and massive, wearing a tricorn iron helmet, a chain shirt and black leather trousers. At his girdle hung three swords, of varying length. He called out to Cory in a great windy voice:
"Name your names and explain why you have sounded the horn."
"I am Cory of Falonges; I have been sent by a person of high rank to take counsel with Torqual. This is my company; the names will mean nothing to you."
"Does Torqual know of your coming?"
"I cannot say. It is possible.''
"Follow behind me. Do not stray off the trail by so much as two yards measurement."
The company rode single file along a narrow track which led first through a dense forest, then along a barren mountainside, then up a gorge to a small stony flat, thence up a narrow spine of rock, with a steep declivity at either side, to come out at last upon a small meadow hard under a cliff. An ancient fortress, half in ruins, commanded the approach. "You stand on Neep Meadow, and there is High Coram Keep," said the blond outlaw. "You may dismount and either stand to wait, or rest upon yonder benches. I will tell Torqual of your coming." He disappeared into the tumbled recesses of the old castle.
Travec dismounted with the others and looked about the meadow. Under the cliff several dozen rude huts had been laid up of stone and sod: here, presumably, were housed Torqual's followers. Within the huts Travec glimpsed a number of bedraggled women and several children playing in the dirt. To the side an oven for the baking of bread had been built of rough bricks, which apparently had been formed of meadow clay fired on the spot in open fires.
Travec went to look down Glen Dagach, which dropped steeply to open at last upon the lower moors. He spoke under his breath: "Voner! Skel! What of the green?"
"I notice a suffusion centered in the castle," said Voner. Skel added: "A tendril leads elsewhere."
"Can you see its source?"
'No.
"Are there other nodes of green?"
"There is such a node in Swer Smod; no others are obvious."
From the castle came Torqual, wearing the black garments of a Ska nobleman. He approached the newcomers. Cory stepped forward. "Torqual, I am Cory of Falonges."
"I know your reputation. You have scoured the Troagh like a ravening wolf, or so it is said. Who are these others?"
Cory made an indifferent gesture. "They are talented villains, and each is unique. That one, is Kegan the Celt. That is Este the Sweet, who might be the Roman he claims to be. There stands Travec the Dacian; there Galgus the Daut, and that misshapen wad of pure evil yonder is Izmael the Hun. They know two motivations only: fear and avarice."
"That is all they need to know," said Torqual. "Any other I distrust. What is your errand?"
Cory took Torqual aside. Travec went to sit on the bench. He whispered: "Voner! Skel! Torqual and Cory speak together; bring me their conversation, but to my ears alone, so that no one will know that I listen."
Skel said: "It is boring and inconsequential chatter; they talk of this and that."
"Still, I wish to hear."
"Whatever you like."
Into Travec's ear came Torqual's voice: "… sent no funds for my account?"
"Fifteen gold coins only," spoke Cory. "Travec also brought funds from Casmir-ten gold crowns-but said they were for the company. Perhaps they were intended for you. Here! Take the lot!"
"It is a pittance!" said Torqual in disgust.
"This is Casmir's careful scheme: he thinks to divert me from my own plans so that I should work in accordance with his."
"Does he know your plans?"
"Perhaps he guesses." Torqual turned and looked off down Glen Dagach. "I have made no great secret of them."
"Out of curiosity, then, what might be your plans?"
Torqual said tonelessly: "I will take command of these moun tains, through devastation and terror. Then I will conquer both
Ulflands, North and South. I will rally the Ska once more to war. First we take Godelia, then Dahaut, and next all the Elder Isles. Then we attack the world. There never shall be such a conquest nor so wide an empire! That is my scheme. But now I must grovel to Casmir for men and weapons to take me through these arduous first times."
Cory spoke in a subdued voice. "Your plan has, if nothing else, the merit of grandeur."
Torqual said indifferently: "It is something which can be done. Hence, it must be done."
"The odds would seem to be against you."
"Such odds are difficult to co
mpute. They can fluctuate over night. Aillas is my foremost and worst enemy. He would seem formidable, with his army and his navy, but he is insensitive; he ignores Ulfish rancor against his Troice regime. The barons grudge him their every submission; many would revolt at a moment's notice."
"And you would lead them?"
"It is necessary. Left to themselves they are a proud and quarrelsome rabble; they grumble because Aillas has checked their feuds! Ha! When at last I lead them they will know the meaning of Ska discipline! Compared to me, Aillas will seem an angel of mercy!"
Cory gave a noncommittal grunt. "My assignment is to assassinate Aillas. I command five murderers who will work for the joy of it-though all hope to be paid."
"That is a joke," said Torqual. "Casmir rewards his faithful servants with the twist of a noose. He bestows few boons after the deed is done."
Cory nodded. "If I am as successful as I hope, I can control Casmir nicely by holding Prince Dhrun as a captive. For the moment, at least, our interests run parallel. I hope, therefore, that you will give me counsel and cooperation."
Torqual brooded for a moment, then asked: "How do you propose to act?"
"I am a careful man. I will spy out Aillas' movements. I will learn where he eats, sleeps and rides his horse; whether he uses a paramour or enjoys solitude, and the same for Dhrun. When I discover a pattern or an opportunity, I shall do my work."
"That is a methodical plan," said Torqual. "Still, it will require much time and effort, and might well provoke suspicion. I can suggest a more immediate opportunity."
"I will be glad to hear it."
"Tomorrow I set off on a rich expedition. The town Willow Wyngate is guarded by Green Willow Castle. Lord Minch, his sons and his knights, have journeyed to Doun Darric; there they will greet King Aillas who has only just returned from abroad. The way is not far: only twenty miles and they think the castle secure in their absence. They are wrong; we will take Green Willow Castle and loot the town as well. Now then! Aillas and Lord Minch will be notified that Green Willow is under attack; they will instantly ride to its relief. This may be your opportunity, since the route provides scope for ambush. A single arrow and Aillas is dead."
"What of Prince Dhrun?"
"This is the charm of the situation. Dhrun fell from a horse and broke a rib; he will stay at Doun Darric. If you ride at speed from your ambush, you may be able to take Dhrun as well."
"It is a bold thought."
"I will assign you a scout. He will show you where to lay your ambush and then lead you to Doun Darric. He knows also where Dhrun is lodged."
Cory pulled at his chin. "If all goes well, both of us profit-to our mutual benefit and perhaps to our continued association."
Torqual nodded. "So it may be. We depart tomorrow after noon, so that we may attack Green Willow at dawn." He looked at the sky. "Clouds are sweeping in from the sea and soon rain will be blowing across Neep Meadow. You may bring your men into the keep to sleep by the fireplace."
Cory returned to where his company waited. He said weightily: "I now will explain our venture. We are to put an arrow into King Aillas."
Este said with a small smile: "This news is no surprise."
Galgus said gruffly: "What is the plan? We expect to take risks, but we are alive today because we season daring with caution."
"Well spoken," said Travec. "I am not eager to die along these dank moors."
"If anything, I am even less eager than you," said Cory. "The plan bodes well. We strike in stealth from ambush, then flee like wild birds to escape our punishment."
"That is sensible procedure," said Izmael. "On the steppe it is our native custom."
"At this moment you may put up the horses and bring your gear into the castle, where we will sleep by the fireplace. There I will explain further details of the plan."
Travec took his hammer-headed horse to the stables, and lingered a moment after the others were gone. He whispered:
"Skel! You must carry a message!"
"Cannot it be delayed? Both Voner and I are fatigued with all this moil. We were planning to spend an hour or so tracing out illusions."
"You must wait until after your task is done. Go instantly to the town Doun Darric, which lies northwest of this place. Seek out King Aillas, and without delay give him the following mes sage…
IV
During the late afternoon veils of rain drifted up Glen Dagach, and presently slanted into Old Neep Meadow. Cory and his company gathered in the great hall of the ancient castle, where flames roared high in the fireplace to cast a ruddy light around the room. They were served a supper of bread, cheese, a pot of venison stew and a leather sack of tart red wine.
After the meal the group became restless. Galgus brought out his dice, but no one cared to gamble. Kegan, from sheer boredom, looked into a dusty chamber under the old staircase, where he noticed, beneath the detritus of uncounted years, a cupboard of desiccated wood. He scraped away the trash and opened the warped doors, but in the dim light saw only empty shelves. As he turned away, his eye fell upon a shape at the back of the lowest shelf. He reached down and extricated an oblong box. The box was large and heavy, and joined of dense cedar heartwood.
Kegan carried the box out to the table in front of the fireplace and while his comrades looked on, he pried open the lid. Everyone peered down at the object inside: a carefully carved fabrication of soapstone slabs and other pieces, stained black, and decorated with a hundred elaborations carved from onyx, jet and agate. Cory came to look. "It is a little catafaique, in the ancient style-a miniature, or a model, or perhaps a toy." He reached to lift it from the box, but Kegan seized his arm. "Stop! It may be a bewitchment, or a cursed object! Let no one touch the thing!"
Torqual came into the hail, followed by a slender dark-haired woman of extreme beauty.
Cory called Torqual's attention to the miniature catafalque. "What do you know of this? Kegan found it under the stair case."
Torqual frowned down into the box. "It means nothing to me."
Este said: "In some fashionable house of Rome this object might well be used as a high-style salt cellar."
"It may be a shrine to someone's favorite cat," suggested Galgus the Daut. "In Falu Ffail, King Audry clothes his spaniels in trousers of purple velvet."
"Put it aside," said Torqual brusquely. "Such things are best not disturbed." He turned to the woman. "Melancthe, this is Cory of Falonges and these are his associates. I have forgotten their names, but this is a Hun, that is a Roman, that a Celt, over there a Daut, and that creature-half hawk, half wolf-declares himself a Dacian. What is your opinion of the group? Do not be afraid to speak your mind; they are devoid of illusions."
"They do not concern me." Melancthe went to sit alone at the end of the table where she stared into the fire.
Travec whispered: "Voner! What do you see?"
"There is green in the woman. A tendril touches her; it darts so swift and sudden that I cannot trace it."
"What does that mean? Is she a node of force?"
"She is a shell."
Travec watched her a moment. She raised her head, looked around the room with brows knit. Travec averted his eyes. He whispered: "What then? Did she sense my presence?"
"She is uneasy, but she does not know why. Do not stare at her."
"Why not?" muttered Travec. "Everyone else is doing so. She is the world's most beautiful woman."
"I do not understand such things."
Presently Melancthe left the room. Torqual and Cory conferred apart for half an hour, then Torqual departed as well.
"What now?" demanded Galgus. "It is too early to sleep and the wine is vile. Who will game at dice?"
Este had gone to look into the cedar box. He said, "Rather, who will raise the cover on this toy catafalque to see what lies within?"
"Not I," said Galgus.
"Do not touch the thing," said Izmael the Hun. "You will bring a curse down upon the company."
"Not so," said Este.
"It is clearly a macabre joke in the form of a jewel box and may well be brimming with sapphires and emeralds."
Kegan's interest was aroused. "That is reasonable. Maybe I will take one little peek, just to make sure."
Galgus looked toward Travec: "And what are you saying to yourself this time, Travec?"
"I chant my spell against death-magic," said Travec.
"Ah bah, it is nothing! Go to it, Kegan! A glimpse only; no harm can come of it!"
With one long yellow thumbnail Kegan lifted the soapstone lid. He bent his head, so that his thin crooked nose almost entered the crack, and peered within. Then slowly he drew back and lowered the lid.
Cory demanded: "Well then, Kegan! Do not keep us in suspense! What did you see?"
"Nothing."
"So why all the drama?"
"It is a fine toy," said Kegan. "I will carry it upon my horse and take it away, as my little keepsake."
Cory gave him a wondering stare. "As you like."
At noon of the following day the two companies departed Neep Meadow and rode down Glen Dagach. Where glen opened upon low moor, the parties separated. Cory, the five in his company, and the guide: a sallow sly-eyed stripling named Idis struck off to the northwest to arrange their ambush. Torqual, with his thirty-five warriors, continued westward toward Willow Wyn gate. For two hours they waited in the shelter of a forest, then at dusk continued along the road: down over the low moors and into the valley of the river Win.
The company rode at a carefully regulated pace, so that just as the first light of dawn brought substance to the land, the troop entered the park surrounding Castle Green Willow and rode along the stately entry drive, between parallel lines of poplar trees.
The troop rounded a bend, to halt in consternation. A dozen knights, mounted on chargers, blocked the road, lances at the ready.
The knights charged. The bandits turned in confusion to flee, but a similar group of knights blocked the road to the rear. And now, from behind the poplars, stepped archers, to pour volley after volley into the screaming outlaws. Torqual on the instant turned his horse to the side, burst through a gap in the poplars and crouching low, galloped like a madman across the country side. Sir Minch, who commanded the troop, sent off ten men in pursuit, with orders to track Torqual to the ends of the world if necessary. Those few outlaws who still survived he condemned to death on the spot, to save the toil of as many hangings. Swords were raised; swords fell; heads rolled, and Torqual's troop and his dreams of empire were at the same time dissolved.
