The Dog of the North

by Tim Stretton

  ‘Arren! Someone is coming!’

  Arren too could hear footsteps along the gravelled path. ‘Stay sitting,’ he whispered. ‘Leave matters to me, and let us hope it is not Lady Siedra.’

  In this Arren was in luck, for around the corner walked Guigot with Raugier’s attendant Erlard. They did not see the pair sitting on the bench.

  ‘. . . Your observations interest me,’ said Erlard, a portly young man of pleasant appearance. ‘I feel sure they will interest the Lord High Viator equally.’

  ‘I am always guided by the viators,’ said Guigot. ‘Naturally I abominate the Wheel, and seek only to Follow the Way. It surprises me that so few folk see matters with such clarity.’

  ‘You must not concern yourself with the progress of others along the Way, my lord. Cleave to your own path, and take the counsel of the viators to heart. You will soon reach Equilibrium, and thence Harmony.’

  Guigot inclined his head. ‘Your wise words soothe my spirit, Viator – Arren! What are you doing here?’

  ‘Guigot; Viator. Please do not let us intrude upon your discussion.’

  Guigot coloured. ‘I had thought the garden was unoccupied; I was merely showing Viator Erlard around.’

  ‘So it seemed,’ said Arren with a slight smile. ‘I am glad to find your advance along the Way so smooth. You never showed such leanings in our classes with Viator Sleech.’

  ‘Do not judge a man on where he begins his journey, young Seigneur,’ said Erlard. ‘Harmony is achieved at the road’s end, not its start.’

  ‘And anyway, Arren, what are you doing in my uncle’s private garden with a serving wench – if I need to ask?’

  ‘Your thoughts are callow,’ said Arren. ‘Eilla had been overcome by the smell of the silver-polish. I thought some fresh air might help.’

  Guigot smirked. ‘No doubt you would have been equally eager to assist one of the more elderly servants.’

  ‘Your remarks do you no credit,’ said Arren. ‘Viator Erlard will come to doubt your piety.’

  Erlard leaned forward to look at Eilla’s dress.

  ‘Is that a brooch of the Wheel I see, girl?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘You are a Gollain?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘And you flaunt it in Lord Thaume’s household?’

  ‘My lord allows us to wear favours.’

  Erlard pursed his lips. ‘Lord Thaume is a most tolerant master.’

  ‘May I go, sir? I am needed in the castle.’

  ‘For now. You may be certain I will comment on this matter to the Lord High Viator.’

  ‘You may assure Lord High Viator Raugier that the girl will be discharged,’ said Guigot. ‘Such flagrant heresy is inappropriate for Lord Thaume’s household.’

  Arren rose from the bench. ‘How will you achieve the dismissal, Guigot? You are neither the Lord of Croad nor his seneschal. I am sure Viator Erlard is too wise to be impressed by your bombast.’

  ‘Such wrangling is not on the Way of Harmony!’ said Erlard. ‘Lord Guigot, I have many interviews to conduct today, but I have enjoyed our conversation: I hope it is of profit to us both.’ He bowed and followed Eilla from the garden.

  ‘What game are you playing, Guigot?’

  Guigot spat into the flowerbed. ‘I did not know you were here, mooning over some servant girl. It is no secret that there will be changes ahead; it does no harm to sit well with the viators.’

  ‘You hate them and their cant.’

  Guigot shrugged. ‘What if I do? Prince Jehan holds them in high esteem. I may attend the Viatory more frequently in future. I advise you to do the same, rather than dally with heretic servant girls. Lord Thaume has given you a great gift by bringing you into his household; it is nothing to me if you squander it.’

  ‘You are unscrupulous.’

  Guigot grinned. ‘In my position I cannot afford scruples. What of the servant girl? Was she a good tumble?’

  Arren tensed; but Guigot wanted a response, and Arren was not going to oblige. With an easy laugh he said: ‘Why don’t you ask her yourself, preferably when I am absent? The sight of violence distresses me.’

  2

  The evening saw Lord Thaume host in his Great Hall the banquet for which Eilla had been polishing silver plate. Arren did not imagine that Thaume was displaying any cordiality towards the Lord High Viator, but protocol insisted that the dinner be held, and that those who might more prudently be kept away would be in attendance.

  At the head of the great table sat Lord Thaume and Lady Jilka, displaying no discernible amity. The Lord High Viator was seated to their right. Cyngier’s seating plan had placed caution ahead of all else: Oricien sat close by, as did Master Guiles, with Viator Sleech opposite. Viator Dince, who might have expected a place of honour, remained in his quarters with an ague. Sir Langlan was seated well away from the head of the table, as was Guigot, despite his cordial relations with Raugier’s attendants. In this group also sat Arren and Siedra.

  Lord Thaume had insisted upon a well-set table, with venison, boar and fish fresh from the River Croad supplementing the fowl, beef and lamb more common to the board. He had judged Raugier willing to indulge his stomach, and the gusto with which he attacked the early courses seemed to bear out the judgement.

  ‘I trust you have had a productive day, my lord,’ said Lord Thaume as the meat courses drew to a close; by all understanding it would have been indecorous to raise such matters of business any earlier.

  Raugier chewed the last of his perch with deliberation. ‘I have learned much of interest. I have encountered many folk well along the Way, and yearning for the viators to help them yet further.’

  Lord Thaume sipped at a crisp white wine from his own vineyard. ‘We may live a spartan life in Croad,’ he said, ‘but there is always scope for folk to Follow the Way.’

  ‘As they see fit, of course.’

  ‘Naturally,’ said Lord Thaume, setting his goblet down. ‘Since the alternative is to proceed in a way they find unfitting, this is surely uncontentious.’

  ‘Your views interest me,’ said Raugier, dabbing his lips with a damask napkin. ‘Candidly, I have seen too much of folk thinking they can choose their own path along the Way. Such an approach does not, ultimately, lead to Harmony.’

  ‘I take it you refer to the Gollains.’

  ‘All are agreed that the Wheel constitutes a pernicious heresy. If all followed their own inclinations, who would need the viators?’

  ‘My lord fully agrees with you, sir,’ said Viator Sleech, blinking rheumily.

  ‘Thank you, Sleech. I am able to articulate my own opinions,’ said Lord Thaume. ‘My own beliefs are strictly orthodox. If a minority of my people chooses to follow the Wheel, that is a matter for their own judgement.’

  ‘The minority appears to me sizeable, my lord. Some estimate that fully a quarter of the population of Croad are heretics.’

  ‘My lord, the estimate is grossly exaggerated,’ said Lady Jilka, who had scarcely spoken during the meal. ‘I would be surprised if one in twenty follows the Wheel.’

  Raugier inclined his head. ‘I would be churlish to challenge the opinion of a lady so noble, pious and beautiful. My own calculation would be materially higher, but that is by the by. Even one heretic would be too many, especially when the lord of the city connives at their practices.’

  ‘“Connivance” is a strong word, my lord,’ said Lord Thaume.

  ‘You may wish to supply another,’ said Raugier. ‘“Encouragement”, perhaps?’

  ‘My lord!’ said Jilka. ‘My husband may display a tolerance some deplore, but he, and our entire household, are wholly orthodox in their persuasions. I challenge anyone to say otherwise.’

  ‘I understand your view was somewhat different during Lord Thaume’s absence at Jehan’s Steppe.’

  Jilka flushed. ‘Tales of our disagreement were exaggerated. Lord Thaume has now explained the basis of his policies.’

  Raugier leaned forward with
a quizzical glance. ‘I am intrigued. Has he explained them to your satisfaction? Your devotion to the Way is legendary.’

  Jilka’s mouth sagged. ‘Lord Thaume – naturally has his own perspective. As his consort my duty is to obey.’

  ‘If so upright a lady endorses her lord’s orthodoxy, how can I do otherwise?’

  Lady Jilka gave a nervous smile.

  ‘Let me ask you one further question, my lady.’

  Jilka looked back dumbly.

  ‘Were your husband to leave you Regent of Croad again, would you permit free worship at the Temple?’

  ‘I – I would take the advice of Viator Sleech and Viator Dince.’

  Raugier narrowed his eyes. ‘Viator Dince might think twice about offering candid advice, my lady. I suggest that you would not in conscience allow the Temple to remain open.’

  ‘It – it would not be a comfortable sight for me. I cannot say I would close it again.’

  ‘I thank you for your candour, my lady. Lord Thaume, let me ask you a hypothetical question.’

  ‘I do not believe there can be such a thing from a Commissioner of Orthodoxy.’

  Raugier shrugged. ‘Hearing Lady Jilka’s response as you have, would you leave her as Regent again? On the last occasion you chose Sir Langlan who, to be blunt, suffers a reputation for dissipation and irreligion.’

  ‘That is not “suffering”; it is a boast!’ called Sir Langlan from away down the table.

  ‘Thank you, Sir Langlan,’ said Lord Thaume with a reproachful glare. ‘I chose Sir Langlan merely because I travelled south, leaving a potential northern army to my rear. That, and the fact that I wished to take Lady Jilka to Glount, explained my decision. I would have no hesitation in appointing my wife as Regent in the future.’

  ‘You paint a pleasing picture of domestic felicity and mutual trust,’ said Raugier. ‘This will weigh – to an extent – in my conclusions.’

  ‘Lord Raugier,’ called Erlard from towards the base of the table. ‘I find that Lord Thaume’s household is not as orthodox as he claims. You, girl, come here.’

  Arren saw with horror that he was summoning Eilla from her duties clearing the plates away. She stepped forward. ‘This girl was wearing a Wheel brooch this morning.’

  ‘Come here, girl,’ said Raugier. ‘Let me examine you.’

  Eilla looked helplessly at Arren. She walked over to Lord Raugier and curtsied.

  ‘Are you wearing a brooch now?’

  ‘No, my lord.’

  ‘But you did this morning?’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  ‘You are a heretic?’

  ‘I said to Viator Erlard this morning that I followed the Wheel.’

  ‘You admit as much, in front of Lord Thaume, and the Lord High Viator?’

  ‘I was always brought up to be truthful, my lord. I do not regard it as occasion for shame.’

  ‘You are forward, for a servant.’

  ‘I merely answer the questions you ask me, my lord.’

  ‘Is that so? Answer me this: why should I not have you whipped?’

  She looked down levelly into his face. ‘Because it would do no good. I should still follow the Wheel.’

  ‘You are highly impertinent.’

  Lord Thaume intervened. ‘She is only responding to your inquisition, my lord. No doubt you would be equally critical were she struck dumb.’

  ‘Enough. You can go, girl.’

  Arren felt a surge of sympathy for Eilla, blotted out by a tight-lipped rage. He could see Eilla was on the verge of a sharp retort, and he could not blame her.

  Her face scarlet, she said: ‘Until a month ago I cared nothing for the Wheel. I could hardly have told you the difference between the Wheel and the Way. It was only when Viator Dince cut my father’s hand off that I realized it was important. If I follow the Wheel, it is the viators who have shown the way. Is that not what they are supposed to do?’

  Raugier rose from his seat. He kicked Eilla twice. ‘Impudent hussy! Schismatic harlot! You shall not only be whipped but hanged! I command it!’

  Lord Thaume spoke quietly. ‘In my hall, you command nothing, my lord. Eilla, your provocation has been extreme, but you have gone too far. Leave us now. Lord Raugier, you may reach whatever conclusions you choose about practices in Croad, but while I rule you shall not pass sentence on any of my servants.’

  Raugier collected himself and performed an immaculate bow. ‘I hear and understand fully, my lord. I thank you for your hospitality and frank insights this evening. I hope you will now excuse me: I have eaten my fill.’

  Not even pausing to wait for his attendants, he strode from the hall.

  Siedra leaned across to Arren. ‘She does not know her place.’

  ‘I am glad of it,’ said Arren. ‘She only spoke the truth as she saw it.’

  Guigot chuckled. ‘Truth? It is a truth that will cost Thaume his head. Raugier’s pride will not tolerate that rebuke. He will have his revenge, and it will not be on the servant girl.’

  ‘Arren, listen to me,’ said Siedra. ‘She is bound for destruction, and soon. Do not let her take you with her.’

  3

  A short while later Arren pleaded fatigue and slipped away from the table. He was not the only one to make an excuse; Guigot had disappeared as soon as Lord High Viator Raugier had departed, and Sir Langlan’s increasingly elevated spirits had driven away most of his immediate neighbours.

  Arren made his way to the servantry; on seeing his entrance Mistress Eulalia beckoned him outside. ‘You cannot keep coming in here, Seigneur. You do not help Eilla, or yourself.’

  ‘I am sorry, mistress. You may have heard something of this evening’s incident.’

  Eulalia gave a wintry smile. ‘Eilla has not been discreet. If you have any influence over her, you may wish to enjoin her to restraint. She has been disruptive ever since she arrived here.’

  ‘How could it be otherwise?’ said Arren. ‘She has suffered greatly.’

  ‘She is drawing too much attention to herself – including your own. It does not speak well for her.’

  ‘Where is she?’

  ‘In her room, I should imagine. I do not want you to see her there.’

  With a barely perceptible shrug he turned and left the servantry.

  He strode through the mean corridors, his boots ringing on the stone floor. He found himself at Eilla’s door and knocked. Wordlessly she opened it. Her eyes were red and swollen.

  ‘Let us go somewhere more private,’ he said. ‘I undertook to Mistress Eulalia not to visit you here.’

  ‘Your scrupulous sense of honour does you credit,’ she said with a flicker of a smile. ‘You may yet find favour with the Lord High Viator.’

  ‘The Pleasaunce became a little crowded this afternoon,’ he said. ‘I am sure Lord Thaume’s own viatory will be more private.’

  ‘Arren!’ said Eilla. ‘What if we are discovered?’

  ‘We will not be,’ he said. ‘Lord Thaume will not wish to visit the viatory tonight. In any event, who could condemn us for drawing solace in such a place?’

  Eilla gave a half-shrug, and they set off up the stairs.

  Lord Thaume’s viatory was a small room with panels of coloured glass at either end. Set into the wall opposite the altar was an alcove concealed behind an arras. In the flickering candlelight of the viatory it was scarcely visible, and by unspoken consent they stepped behind the arras into the alcove’s veiled obscurity. Eilla sat down on the single wooden chair and Arren leaned against the wall. ‘You were unwise to speak to Raugier in such a fashion,’ he said.

  ‘Perhaps I was, but I could not have kept silent,’ she said with a quiet intensity. ‘My father has always said the viators were wicked corrupt parasites. I never much cared; even if he was right, the viators were hardly alone in their vices. But then I saw what Dince and Jilka did to him, and on top of all Raugier comes here and says we cannot worship the Wheel, and threatens to depose Lord Thaume. Who is he to threaten us?’
>
  ‘He is the Lord High Viator, and Commissioner for Orthodoxy. He carries the weight of the King’s words, and the Consorts’.’

  Her voice throbbed with emotion against the cold stone walls around them. ‘We have all lived our own lives in Croad for as long as I have known. Why do they suddenly have to turn everything upside down?’ she asked, with a renewal of tears in her voice.

  ‘Eilla—’

  She leaned away from Arren and wiped her sleeve across her face. ‘I should not be so pitiful. I am alive, healthy and I have people to care about me: many cannot say as much.’

  ‘You have suffered a lot, Eilla, and so quickly. It is only natural that you find it hard.’

  ‘We are still at war, Arren. You marched all the way north and beat Tardolio, and then you come back here and find that he was not the enemy at all. Raugier is far more dangerous, and he can take Croad far more easily than Tardolio ever could.’

  ‘It is not a war I know how to fight,’ said Arren. ‘I cannot see an enemy with a sword. Raugier is the King’s man.’

  Eilla gave a brittle laugh. ‘Do you believe that? Raugier is no more the King’s servant than he is mine. He and his faction are manipulating a sick old man and a stupid younger one.’

  ‘Eilla! It is treason to describe Prince Jehan so.’

  ‘And a lie not to. The Gollains are not only in Croad: men follow the Wheel in Garganet, in Gammerling, even secretly in Emmen itself, they say. All the while the King permits it, no harm is done to anyone, but once he tries to stamp it out, he will have war. The King’s counsellors should tell him so – but they are all viators.’

  ‘I do not think deeply on such questions,’ said Arren, ‘but I am concerned for you. If you do not make your sympathies less obvious, Thaume will not be able to save you. Raugier needs to make an example of someone, and I cannot imagine he thinks to challenge Thaume himself. Make sure you are not the scapegoat, Eilla.’

  She rose from her chair and stroked his cheek. ‘I am touched at your care for me, Arren. I know how easy it would be for you to leave me behind.’

  ‘I will never do that, Eilla. We have always meant too much to one another.’