The Dog of the North

by Tim Stretton

  ‘I am at a loss as to why you wished to see me, sir.’

  ‘All will become clear soon enough,’ said Pinch, leaning against a table which appeared inadequate for the additional weight. ‘Of all the youngsters of Lord Thaume’s household, you have been the most exasperating. Your release of my dimonetto was highly vexing, and put me to great effort.’

  ‘I can say no more than my apology at the time.’

  Pinch raised a placatory hand. ‘I am not reproving you. Your curiosity always commended you to me. Had you shown the slightest trace of thaumaturgical talent I should have taken you as a famulus. Lord Thaume would not have prevented me. Compared with Guigot’s brazen self-interest, Oricien’s polite boredom and Siedra’s inattention your own attitude was refreshing.’

  ‘I am glad to have secured your good opinion,’ said Arren, ‘although I am still unclear as to the purpose of our conversation.’

  ‘I am merely establishing my good will before my warning. I had resolved not to become involved in the day-to-day life of the castle.’

  ‘Warning?’

  ‘You are playing a dangerous game, Arren.’

  ‘I do not understand, sir.’

  Master Pinch pushed against the table – which groaned alarmingly – to stand to his full modest height.

  ‘Do not insult us both with tedious evasions. Can you tell me in truth that there is no area of your life where you are not conscious of acting in the most rash and perilous of fashions? Remember, I am a thaumaturge: I see much.’

  Arren coloured.

  ‘Good. You are at least conscious of my meaning.’

  ‘I believe so.’

  ‘A man who is familiar with snakes may handle them with impunity. He may even drape them around his neck if he chooses. You or I, watching him, may think the trial of little consequence; we may even try the feat for ourselves. Of course, we are instantly bitten, and if the snake is venomous we die.’

  ‘I do not—’

  ‘You are handling a viper, Arren, and you do not have the charm of snakes.’

  Arren pursed his lips. ‘You are telling me little I do not already know.’

  Pinch raised his eyebrows. ‘Your conduct then is even more inexplicable. Ignorance of your folly was the only conceivable excuse.’

  ‘I have broken – I have set the snake down, only this morning.’

  Pinch nodded. ‘Unless you have the skill to draw a snake’s venom, it still remains dangerous.’

  ‘If I may ask, how have you come by your information?’

  ‘I have cautioned you in the past that asking a thaumaturge such a question is, aside from its impoliteness, usually fruitless.’ He nonetheless spoke with a smile. ‘The thaumaturge can open many doors closed to others: farseeing, the agency of the dimonetto, a hundred charms and enchantments.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Arren.

  ‘In this case,’ said Pinch, ‘you may also care to look from the window.’

  Arren rose from the bed and walked over to the slit in the heavy stone wall. Below him, he could see the Pleasaunce, and look down directly into the glade.

  ‘Fortunately for you,’ said Pinch, ‘no other room commands this view. No one else will have seen your assignations.’

  Arren sat down again. ‘For that I am grateful.’

  ‘However, anyone else can have observed your demeanour in a certain lady’s presence, and in this you have not been subtle. Both you and the lady have been indiscreet in the way you have carried yourselves. I am glad to hear you have called a halt to the affair.’

  ‘Why have you warned me?’ asked Arren.

  Pinch gave an avuncular smile. ‘It is the lot of the thaumaturge that human society is by and large uninteresting to me. The pull of the Unseen is greater. But I am soon to leave Croad, perhaps for ever. I would not leave behind me a situation which inevitably will play out to disaster. I am well disposed towards Lord Thaume, yourself, and Eilla, who has carried herself with great dignity and kept my room tolerably ordered.’

  ‘I thank you, sir.’

  ‘You may wish to leave now: a favourable conjunction of dimensions is about to occur, and I would take advantage. And Arren – do not think you are safe yet.’

  Arren was about to reply, but Pinch was already reaching for a sheet of parchment crowded with his cramped script. He turned and left the room.

  5

  Arren was at a loss how to proceed, but the morning was still young. He collected his practice sword and went over to the exercise yard and for an hour drilled himself to exhaustion. Several of the grooms who had made up his mounts joined him and ended the session with sore heads, but Arren felt no guilt. Such harsh lessons bred alertness, and better that their heads should be cracked with a wooden sword than split asunder with sharp steel.

  The sun was high in the sky by the time he had finished and the sweat was standing out on his forehead and sticking his shirt to his back. Feeling unpleasantly damp, he walked down to where the city walls abutted the river and out on to the river bank. There was no one around and he took off his shirt and boots before plunging into the water. He swam to the other bank with slow easy strokes, before returning, dripping but much refreshed. He picked up his boots, slung his shirt over his shoulder and went back inside the castle. The exercise had cleared his mind and he felt better able to deal with whatever events might occur.

  He returned to his chambers to change into some dry clothes and poured a glass of ale from the pitcher by his bed. He lay down and stared up at the ceiling. Master Pinch had confirmed Eilla’s judgement with regard to Siedra, and he reluctantly admitted that he had known all along they were right. She was cruel, selfish, manipulative: to that list Arren now had to add vindictive. He did not think she would crawl away to lick her wounds in secret. She would need to score some kind of actual or symbolic revenge. He realized that her spite would be as likely to comprehend Eilla as himself, and Eilla had fewer resources with which to respond. Disagreeable as the interview might be, he owed it to her to set out the latest events and his conclusions. It would be helpful, too, for Oricien’s awareness to be heightened, but his inventiveness palled when he tried to think of how he was to make Oricien aware that he had debauched his sister. He doubted that he would have Oricien’s unequivocal sympathy. It was out of the question to throw himself on Lord Thaume’s mercy: Thaume might look kindly upon him now, but he had a keen sense of the value of his family and its connections; Siedra was the only daughter he had to bestow, and the notion of her deflowered, or worse yet with child, would not commend Arren in his eyes.

  It was nearly lunchtime, he realized, and he levered himself from his bed to walk down to the servants’ refectory in the hope of finding Eilla. He was in luck; he saw her immediately sitting by herself in a corner dipping a hunk of bread into last night’s reheated stew. He slipped into the space beside her.

  ‘I need to talk to you,’ he said.

  She looked up with dull eyes. She did not appear to have slept well. ‘Can you not see I am taking my lunch?’

  ‘You need say nothing, merely listen.’

  ‘We exhausted the last of our conversational topics last night. As far as I am concerned there is nothing further to be said.’

  He took hold of her wrist as it conveyed bread to her mouth. ‘This you will listen to, Eilla: I insist.’

  She laid her hand back down on the table. ‘It seems I will get no peace until I consent.’

  ‘I have broken with Siedra.’

  Eilla shrugged. ‘If you recall, that is the course I advised. You need not have interrupted my meal to bring the matter to my attention.’

  ‘She did not take the news calmly.’

  ‘If that surprises you, your knowledge of her character is slighter than mine. I imagine she spat curses and vituperation, implicit and explicit threats, and dire promises of vengeance.’

  ‘Well, yes. That was exactly her response.’

  ‘You will have observed that the front of reasonable and ba
lanced conduct she displayed last night was not in evidence.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I take it you are no longer in the slightest doubt as to her true nature.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Good. But all this could have waited until this evening.’

  ‘She gave me to understand that her retribution will include yourself.’

  Eilla picked up her bread again. ‘There is a difference between a threat and the means to carry it out.’

  ‘Do not underestimate her, Eilla.’

  She gave a harsh laugh. ‘I have been telling you that consistently. I do not need to hear it from you now. You have been here long enough; you should leave now.’

  ‘Shall I see you this evening?’

  ‘I finish at nine bells. I may take a walk over to the Temple. If you are on hand you may accompany me.’

  As Arren left the room he was conscious that Eilla had not been as pleased to see him as he had expected. Could she not be satisfied that she had beaten Siedra? The female mind could be difficult to follow.

  6

  ‘I am sorry I was so cross-grained at lunchtime,’ said Eilla as they walked through the quiet streets of Croad under a moonless sky.

  ‘I am the one who should be sorry,’ said Arren. ‘I should never have succumbed to Siedra so easily.’

  ‘She is beautiful and lively,’ she said. ‘I am sure men with more experience would have been equally pliant.’

  Gingerly he slipped an arm around her waist; she made no effort to shake it off.

  ‘I will never argue with you again. You have always been right, as long as I can remember.’

  ‘It does not seem so to me,’ said Eilla. ‘If I had been as wise as you say, I would not be a servant with no prospects at the mercy of every lord’s ill-humour and every lady’s tantrum.’

  ‘That was not a fault of yours, Eilla. The only solution for you and your family would have been to forswear the Wheel. Such questions have never interested me, but I understand their importance to some.’

  Eilla shook her head. ‘The irony is that it never mattered to me either, until the proscriptions. At the Temple they say “Make one martyr today and you make a dozen tomorrow.”’

  Without conscious intent, they made their way to the Pleasaunce, and Arren steered them away from the view commanded from Master Pinch’s window.

  ‘I have not helped you as I might have done,’ said Arren. ‘It has been a cruel time for you, and I have been too busy with other affairs. Can you forgive me?’

  They came upon a pond and Eilla sat on the ground in front of it. ‘Can you see the fish?’ she asked.

  Arren peered at the murky water. Under the black sky no fish were in evidence. ‘They are too far below the surface.’

  ‘The fish have their own world. Only on occasion can we see them; the rest of the time their affairs take them away from us. Even the most ardent fish-lover would not reprove the fish for their absence. Each of us lives in our own pond, Arren. The wonder is that we ever come together . . .’

  ‘The Wheel is a most individualistic creed,’ said Arren.

  ‘I am not speaking specifically of the Wheel,’ she said, ‘although yes, it does imply a greater sense of responsibility than the Way. But we are all alone, Arren, even if sometimes we are alone together . . .’

  ‘I am unclear as to whether you have forgiven me,’ said Arren. These lurches into the spiritual were not part of the Eilla he knew.

  ‘I am trying to say that I recognize that you have concerns other than me. I am sure no one regrets your dalliance with Siedra more than you.’

  ‘You are right there. I was foolish ever to trust her, foolish not to trust you, and most foolish of all for not seeing you in front of my eyes all this time.’

  Even in the dark he could see her cheeks flush. ‘I am not sure what you are saying.’

  He took her hand but continued to look down into the pond. ‘Eilla, I have been blind not to see from the start that my feelings have been for you. We were children together before such things could have entered our hearts, and I had not noticed the change in mine.’ He glanced up into her face to see a glimmer of tears in her eyes.

  ‘Oh, Arren,’ she said. ‘Why does this happen too late?’

  Arren felt a tremor run through him. ‘Too late?’

  ‘There must have been a time that would have been right for this,’ she said. ‘But it cannot be now. Surely you see that?’

  Arren looked back down into the pond. A ripple broke the surface. Out of sight, the fish went about their business.

  ‘It was too much to hope for; too much to deserve,’ he said. ‘I am sorry to have upset you again. I will pay for Siedra for ever, and I cannot argue against the justice of it.’

  ‘Siedra? This is not about Siedra,’ she said quickly.

  ‘But you said it was too late.’

  ‘I did not mean because of Siedra. There was a time when I was the daughter of a respected man in the city, and you were a humble member of Lord Thaume’s household. A match between us would have been suitable. Now I am disgraced, and you stand high in Thaume’s favour. You will live to be Sir Arren; you cannot consort with a servant girl, and I could not settle for secrecy.’

  Arren scanned her face for hidden meanings and found none. ‘Is that what you mean by “too late”?’

  ‘Is it not enough?’

  ‘Eilla, I care nothing for such things. Siedra seduced me with consequence and status. If I had to choose between becoming Sir Arren and being with you, can you imagine I would hesitate?’

  She took both of his hands. ‘It is easy to say in the empty night with no one around. Do not say it unless you know you can say the same in front of the world.’

  Arren leaned forward and kissed her. ‘Hissen take them all. I have listened to them for too long. We both know this is right.’

  Eilla returned his kiss and further conversation became both redundant and impractical.

  7

  ‘I need to get back to the servants’ quarters,’ Eilla said. ‘For now, at least, affairs must proceed as usual.’

  ‘Can you not stay a little longer?’ asked Arren with a grin. ‘I can offer inducements.’

  She stood and pulled Arren to his feet. ‘And very compelling inducements they are, but we must be careful for now.’

  ‘You were the one who forswore secrecy.’

  ‘The time for openness will come. It is not yet.’

  ‘It is up to you, Eilla. You have been right so far.’

  ‘Do you want to know what I think?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘We should leave Croad altogether. Your prospects will be irredeemably blighted if you stay here, and I have no reason to love the city.’

  ‘Where would we go?’

  ‘There is a whole world for us to choose. Glount, Garganet . . .’

  Arren thought for a moment. It would be hard to leave the city, but without Lord Thaume’s patronage, and with the perpetual enmity of Siedra, it would be a less comfortable place. He had been well-schooled in warfare, and he knew he could find employment wherever he went.

  ‘What about my family? What will my parents do?’

  ‘I must leave my father too, Arren. If they care for us, they will not begrudge us our happiness. Matten will look after your parents, Clottie mine. We can write to them when we are safe.’

  Arren pondered a moment. ‘My father would prefer my death to offending Lord Thaume in any event,’ he said. ‘We will go. I did not care for the folk of Glount. Let us proceed to Garganet.’

  She flung her arms around him. ‘Thank you! You will see I am right! If we leave, it should be soon. There is no profit in awaiting Siedra’s revenge.’

  Arren nodded pensively. ‘You are right, of course.’

  ‘And if you are wise, you will not tell anyone where you are going. Once we are away you can write a full justification, although you may wish to gloss over Siedra’s role in events.’

  ‘Tomorrow
night.’

  She kissed him. ‘I will meet you in the courtyard of The Patient Suitor at midnight,’ she said. ‘Can you bring a gallumpher and provisions?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Hand in hand they walked back to the castle. Once more they kissed and Eilla said: ‘Until tomorrow.’

  8

  Arren had undertaken to spend the next day hunting with Oricien, and soon after dawn they set out for the hills to the north.

  ‘My father has agreed to allow me to go to court next month,’ said Oricien. ‘You will be coming with me, won’t you?’

  Arren was tempted to tell Oricien everything – or nearly everything, at any event. He would have preferred not to lie about his intentions, but Eilla had counselled silence in this case.

  ‘Do you really want me to come? It is a long journey, and I am not going to make any spectacular match.’

  ‘Nonsense, Arren, you must! It is gratifying to see how the people of Croad are regarded in Emmen, and our recent victory over Tardolio has only improved matters. Your father may be a hostage, but already he will have forged a great reputation for himself! There are many tales at court of men who have made good marriages after carrying all before them in tournaments. Why should you not do the same?’

  ‘I am sure the men you refer to are of more illustrious lineage than me.’

  ‘Remember, you will be under the sponsorship of the heir of Croad. No one will dare fleer at you. I should not say this, but Siedra thinks you are rather gallant!’

  Arren involuntarily twitched on his gallumpher’s reins and the beast stumbled in its stride. ‘I am sure you exaggerate,’ he said.

  ‘My revelation does not find you indifferent!’ cried Oricien. ‘I am sure my sister will laugh to hear it. If she has overlooked your birth, you may be doubly certain that the ladies at court will do so.’

  ‘You are mistaken. Nippet stumbled because of the terrain, not my beastcraft.’

  As you will, Arren. Siedra will be in Glount soon enough, whatever she may say.’

  ‘Let us race to the top of the hill,’ said Arren, digging his heels into Nippet’s side.

  Both Oricien and Arren were skilled hunters, but today all the life of the hills seemed fled. The gallumphers enjoyed their exercise, but neither stag nor boar did they see.