The Knight twk-1

by Gene Wolfe

  “Th’ cabin’s a mite small,” Pouk said.

  It was. With the mate, Pouk, and me in it, there was hardly room to turn around.

  “This here’s my bunk, sir.” The mate seated himself on it, giving us a little more space. “Up there’d be yours.”

  The upper bunk looked dirty, and emitted a sour smell over and above the reek that seemed to be everywhere under the main deck.

  “Captain’s cabin’s right up there,” the mate announced proudly. “‘Cept for that, this here’s the best berth on the ship.”

  Pouk had his back to the mate. He waggled one finger and winked.

  I said, “Somebody’s been sleeping up here already. Who is it?”

  “Our second, sir. Nur’s his name.”

  “If I’m going to be taking his bed, I ought to make my bargain with him.” Pouk grinned approval.

  “I’ve the say, sir.” The mate sounded angry. “As for bargainin’, there won’t be none. Two—”

  I had made up my mind, and I cut him off. “You’re right, we’re not making any kind of deal. I wouldn’t sleep in here if you locked me in. Show me the captain’s cabin.”

  “He’d have to do it hisself.” The mate sounded angrier than ever.

  “Then let’s go see him.”

  There was an awkward silence until I realized that I would have to go out before Pouk and the mate could. I did, bumping my head on the top of the tiny doorway and turning sidewise to get my shoulders through it. The whole affair was awkward enough, and painful enough, that I forgot to be sick for a minute or two.

  Back on deck, the mate rapped (timidly, I thought) on the captain’s door while I took long breaths of cold salt air.

  “Cap’n?”

  There was no answer. I decided the gale had gotten worse, if anything. Cold rain slammed my face, and was very welcome there. “Cap’n, sir?” The mate rapped again, a trifle louder.

  “Be a long tunne a’ money,” Pouk whispered.

  The sterncastle door opened. I glimpsed a middle-aged man’s dirty face and bleary eyes before it closed again.

  “You gotter come back,” the mate announced with great satisfaction. “Come back tomorrer.”

  I pushed him to one side and pounded on the door. When the captain opened it, his face red with rage, I shoved him backward and went in.

  After the mate’s cabin, this one looked spacious indeed, a good four paces long and three wide, with a ceiling almost high enough and big windows on three sides. I pointed to one and said, “Open that!”

  The captain (who was naked) only stared. Pouk hastened to obey.

  I said, “I see only one bed. Where will you sleep?”

  “You’re a knight?” The captain took trousers from the back of a chair screwed to the floor.

  “Right. Sir Able of the High Heart.”

  “I doubt it.” The captain sat down on the cabin’s one bed. “I’ve never heard of you.”

  “You’d be smart to act as if you had,” I told him. By that time I was really beginning to catch on to the way these people talk.

  “You want to travel in my cabin.” He snorted. “That’s what Megister Kerl said.”

  “Right again. To Forcetti.”

  “If I permitted it,” the captain seemed to weigh each word, “it would cost you seven gold ceptres. Good gold, too. Paid in advance, and not a copper farthing shy of the full seven. You’d sling your hammock over there, and by wind, rain, and sea you’d have it out of my way each morning before breakfast.”

  Kerl had come in behind me by that time. He chuckled.

  The captain rose and buckled his belt. “Otherwise, I’d teach you, Sir Able of the Shy Fart, how the authority of a captain is to be obeyed. As it is, I won’t let you have it at any price. I give you as much time as it takes to make sail to clear my ship.” From under his mattress he pulled a curved sword of Osterling make. “Or we’ll throw you in the bay.”

  I grabbed his wrist with my left hand and got hold of the pommel with my right. Before I could wrench the sword away, a punch from Kerl spun me half around.

  The sword came free. I ducked another punch, and hit him in the chest. I still remember the sound of it, like a mallet pounding a tent stake. It gave me a moment to throw the captain’s sword out the window.

  As soon as it was gone he was on me, bellowing like a bull. That stopped the first time I hit him. He fell down, and I picked him up and shoved him headfirst out the window, catching hold of an ankle as it crossed the sill.

  “Sir Able? Sir Able ...”

  I was looking down at the captain. A jokester whitecap had just washed his head. “You wouldn’t do this if you were me, Pouk? I’m helping him out. He was knocked cold, and the water will bring him back and make him feel better.”

  “I got his knife, Sir Able. Mate’s, I mean. Had it in his belt, he did. Likely you didn’t notice, sir.”

  “Sure I did.” I took the knife and glanced at it. “Give it back to him. It’s his.” Pouk looked dubious. “Into th’ drink might be better, sir. He’s havin’ trouble gettin’ his breath, sir, only it won’t last.”

  “He didn’t try to stab me with it,” I told Pouk, “so I’ll let him keep it.”

  “Put it in your back, sir, like as not.”

  Kerl gasped, “N-No.”

  “We’ve got his word, Pouk.” I took another look at the captain, who had started waving his arms and sputtering. A high-speed roll cracked his head against the side. “His word is good enough for us.”

  I looked around at the mate. “Megister Kerl.”

  Still gasping, Kerl contrived to say, “Aye, sir?”

  “My baggage is out there where Pouk unloaded it. The boatman’s there, too, waiting for his money. Pay him, and help Pouk carry it in here.”

  “Sir—aye aye, sir.”

  Pouk was already out the cabin door. Kerl struggled to his feet and followed him.

  When it had shut behind them, I pulled in the captain. “Get up,” I told him. “I might have to hit you again.”

  He tried and fell down. I picked him up and plumped him down on the table. “Can you talk?”

  “I’m all right. Just dizzy. It’ll pass off.”

  “We’d better settle this before those two come back,” I told him. “I’m going to sleep in here, alone, until we get to Duke Marder’s city.”

  He muttered, “Aye, sir.”

  “That’s another thing. Don’t say sir to me. I’ve let Pouk do it, and just now your mate did it too. But you’re going to say yes, Sir Able. Every now and then you’d better say yes, Sir Able of the High Heart. When you do it, I’m going to listen really hard to the last two words.” He did not answer, so I said, “Make it plain you understand me, or you’re going out that window again.”

  “Aye aye, Sir Able of the High Heart.” The captain straightened up. “I understand you perfectly, Sir Able of the High Heart.”

  “Swell. I’ll pay you three ceptres for this room when we get to Forcetti. That’s if I get the best food you’ve got, and you and your men treat me the way a knight ought to be treated. Make it clear you understand all that, too.”

  “Aye, Sir Able of the High Heart.” Still shaky, he got up, holding on to the little table with both hands. It was screwed to the floor, like just about everything else. “I understand you perfectly, Sir Able of the High Heart.”

  “If the food’s not good, or you and your crew call me names behind my back, I’m going to start knocking money off those three ceptres. I’ll decide how much, and—”

  There was a tap on the door.

  “Just a minute!”

  I turned back to the captain. “Do you understand what I’ve been telling you? About my deductions? Make it clear.”

  “I do, Sir Able of the High Heart. You can count on me, Sir Able.”

  “We’ll see.” I was feeling sicker than ever and felt like I was sure to chuck. “I’m going to move you out of here right now. Get all your stuff together—that means your clothes and pe
rsonal things. Leave those blankets. Once you’re out, there won’t be anything to stop you from getting your crew together and giving out every kind of knife and stick you can find.”

  He looked scared, and I was glad to see it.

  “Only remember this. It won’t be enough to tell them to jump me. You’ll have to get out in front.” I opened the door. “Now beat it.”

  When Pouk and Kerl had brought my baggage, I chased them out too, pushing Pouk—he wanted to talk—right out the door and sliding the square iron bolt into the socket. After that I was sick out the window, but when it was over and I had cleaned up, I felt better than I had since I got into the big rowboat that had ferried us out to the Western Trader.

  Before I go on, I ought to tell you a lot about boats and ships (which are different from boats, although I did not understand that then) and the coasting trade, and the high-sea trade. But the truth is that I do not know a lot about those things. The Western Trader was a big ship to them; only the biggest had three masts. In the summer it went west, just like its name said, and traded among the islands there. But in winter it just traded along the coast of Celidon, so it could duck into a port whenever the weather got too bad, and it tried to trade south.

  The Osterlings were to our east, but they followed the coast south, west, and north, murdering and stealing. Duke Indign had tried to stop them, but they had killed him, and pulled down his castle. With him gone, they had looted and burned most of Irringsmouth.

  Chapter 17. At Anchor

  N ext morning the ship rolled and pitched in pretty much the same way it had all night and the day before, but once I had hopped out of bed (there was a dream I wanted to get away from) I felt fine and was hungry enough to eat an old shoe. Looking out the windows I could see we were still in the harbor, and the noises that had made me wake up showed that something heavy was being brought on board and was making a lot of trouble. There were bumps and rumbles and rattles, and bare feet running here and there, and a good deal of yelling. There was a squeaking noise too, that I thought might be some kind of bird.

  What was better was the sunshine and the way the wind blew, one of those warm fall winds that make you want to throw a football. I pretended I was, and I knew that with the arms and legs and shoulders I had now I could play for the Vikings. After that I got dressed and buckled on the foreign mace we had bought from Mori. It hung from a belt like a sword belt. I checked on my bow and quiver. They looked fine, but I decided I’d leave them in the cabin for now, along with my boat cloak. When I had bad dreams—and I did, just about every night—it was generally because of Parka’s bowstring. It was in the bowcase, and I had put that on the far side of the cabin; but I thought it might not have been far enough.

  Out on deck, crates and barrels and boxes were being unloaded from a square-prowed barge with forty men leaning on the oars. There was a slanted pole on the biggest mast for it, with a wheel at the end and a rope run through the wheel. When you had a good load on it, that wheel made more noise than a flock of gulls, squeaking and squealing. They pulled the things up that way, one at a time, swung them over the hatch, and let them down.

  Kerl came running, touching his cap. Pouk was right in back of him, and when I saw him I remembered I still owed him a scield.

  “I hope the noise didn’t bother you, Sir Able, sir.” Kerl touched his cap all over again. “We figured you was probably roused, sir, only we didn’t mean to bother you. Would you be wantin’ breakfast, sir?”

  I was still looking around, but I nodded.

  “In your cabin that’d be, sir?”

  That meant I did not have to eat in there, the way I saw it, so I thought about it and said, “I don’t know much about boats like this, Megister Kerl.” He nodded, looking scared.

  “You’ve got these wooden castles. One in front, and this one in the back that’s really my room.”

  “That’s right, sir, Sir Able. To fight off of, sir, if we got to fight. That ‘un’s the forecastle and this ‘un’s the sterncastle, sir.”

  “Are the roofs flat? They look it.” It seemed like I might have a pretty good view of the ship and the harbor from up there, and wind and sunshine, too.

  “Aye, sir.” Kerl bobbed his head. “It’s where the ship’s steered from, sir. Where the wheel is.”

  Pouk added, “That’s where you ought to be too, sir, an’ not down here.” I nodded. “Lead the way. I want to see it.”

  Pouk led, with Kerl right in back of him. Some narrow steps they called a companionway led up to a solid deck with wooden walls, with square notches cut out of the walls to shoot arrows through or throw spears. That is what is called a battlement, and the broken wall I saw at Irringsmouth had them too, only that wall was stone. The steering wheel was on this deck. So was the lodestone, on a stand in front of the wheel.

  And so was the captain, drinking small beer and eating eggs and bacon, fresh bread, and a salad made of radishes and shoots. He got up politely as soon as he saw me and said, “A good morrow to you, Sir Able of the High Heart.”

  I said good morrow too. “May I join you, Captain? I haven’t had breakfast.”

  When he said yes, I told Pouk, “I need to talk to you after I eat. Have they fed you?”

  He touched his cap. “Aye, sir, I et.”

  “Then get me a chair, and have a word with the cook.”

  Right away the captain put in, “Take mine, Sir Able. A pleasure.” So I did.

  Pouk said, “I’ll fetch another for th’ cap’n, if it’s all right, sir. Only mate’s got to tell cook, sir, an’ I judge he’s gone off to already.”

  Not very sure of himself, the captain said, “If you’re hungry, Sir Able of the High Heart, you might want to sample some of this. I was saving my greens for last, Sir Able, and these two slices haven’t been touched.”

  I said I could wait.

  “If you’d prefer to be alone, Sir Able of the High Heart ....?”

  I said no. “I’ve got a lot of questions, and I want to ask them while I eat my breakfast and you finish yours. The crew doesn’t need you for what they’re doing now?”

  “Stowing cargo?” The captain shook his head. “Megister Kerl can see to it as well as I could.”

  “But you’ve got a nicer cabin. Or you did.” The captain did not answer.

  “You give the orders, and Kerl does whatever you tell him to. What can you do that he can’t?”

  “In all honesty, Sir Able of the High Heart, he could make a stab at everything I do, and he might succeed with a good deal of it. I’m the better navigator, but Kerl can navigate a bit. I flatter myself that I’m better at getting us goods to trade, and a better trader. I don’t think Kerl could show as good a profit, but he’s a good seaman.”

  I had asked that because of the dream. In the dream I had been way down under the main deck. It had been pitch dark, but I had known somehow that our mother was not really dead at all—she was down there, tied up and gagged so she could not make any noise, and if I could find her I could cut her loose and bring her up on deck. Only the captain was down there too, and he had a rope he wanted to choke me with. He was moving around very quietly, trying to come up behind me and get it around my neck. I was trying to be quiet, too, so he could not find me. Only pretty often I would stumble over something or knock something over.

  So I was thinking suppose I just killed him like we had the outlaws? He was being so nice this morning that I think he must have guessed what I was thinking. But underneath he hated my guts and wanted his cabin back, and I knew it. Kerl would not be half as much trouble, and he could take me to Forcetti just as well.

  There had been somebody else down there with us in my dream, somebody that never moved at all or made any noise; but I did not know who it was.

  Pouk came back with a chair for the captain. “I’ll see to th’ bed an’ tidy up your cabin if you don’t need me right now, sir.” I nodded, and he said, “Just sing out, sir, if you need anythin’. I’ll be directly below.”


  The captain sat down. “A good servant?”

  I did not know, but I said, “He’s been useful, anyhow. He’s spent most of his life on one ship or another, from what he says. When are we going to get going?”

  “With the tide tomorrow night, Sir Able of the High Heart, if that’s satisfactory to you.”

  “Why not today?”

  “We must load our cargo. I mean, if you permit it, Sir Able. Today and tomorrow for that, if the loading goes well. Once it’s secure below, we’ll put out as quickly as we can.” He had not started to eat again, waiting for my food to get there.

  I said I had been wondering about that. Could he go right now without waiting for the tide?

  He lifted his shoulders and let them drop. “It would depend on the wind, Sir Able. If Ran favored us, we could do it. But I can’t always predict the wind. I know when the tide will run, however, and I know it will bear us out to sea if we let it.”

  He waited for me, but I was thinking.

  “If you’d prefer I try earlier, I will, Sir Able of the High Heart. The risk of running aground will be greater, I warn you.”

  “You wouldn’t ordinarily do that?” The captain shook his head.

  “Then don’t do it tomorrow. We can wait for the tide, like you say. How long will it take to get to Forcetti?”

  “That will depend on the wind again—”

  Just about then the cook and his helper brought up my breakfast. I did not know much about ship’s food back then, but I knew enough from Pouk to see they had fixed some of everything they could lay hands on. When the dishes had been crowded onto the little table and the cook and his helper had gone back to the galley, the captain said, “With fair winds we’ll tie up in Forcetti within a fortnight, Sir Able of the High Heart. With foul—well, anything you care to name. A month. Two months. Never.”

  A fortnight is two weeks or half the moon, but I did not know that then. I said a fortnight seemed awfully fast and waited to hear what he would say to that.

  “We can sail night and day,” he explained, “and with a fair wind we can travel as fast as a well-mounted rider. When that rider would be eating and sleeping and resting his horse, we can sail on as if the sun were up.”