The Buried Giant
Page 25
“Didn’t you say it yourself, princess? Our life together’s like a tale with a happy end, no matter what turns it took on the way.”
“I said so before, Axl. Yet now it may even be we’ll slay Querig with our own hands, there’s a part of me fears the mist’s fading. Can it be so with you, Axl?”
“Perhaps it is, princess. Perhaps it’s always been so. But I fear most what you spoke of earlier. I mean as we rested beside the fire.”
“What was it I said then, Axl?”
“You don’t remember, princess?”
“Did we have some foolish quarrel? I’ve no memory of it now, except that I was near my wit’s end from cold and want of rest.”
“If you’ve no memory of it, princess, then let it stay forgotten.”
“But I’ve felt something, Axl, ever since we left those children. It’s as if you’re holding yourself away from me as we walk, and not just on account of that tugging goat. Can it be we quarrelled earlier, though I’ve no memory of it?”
“I’d no intention to hold myself away from you, princess. Forgive me. If it’s not the goat pulling this way and that, then it must be I’m still thinking of some foolishness that was said between us. Trust me, it’s best forgotten.”
He had got the fire blazing again in the centre of the floor, and all else inside the small cottage had fallen into shadow. Axl had been drying his clothes, holding each garment up to the flames, while Beatrice slept peacefully nearby in a nest of rugs. But then quite suddenly, she had sat up and looked around her.
“Is the fire too hot for you, princess?”
For a moment she continued to look bewildered, then wearily lowered herself back down onto the rugs. Her eyes though remained open and Axl was about to repeat his question when she had said quietly:
“I was thinking of a night long ago, husband. When you were gone, leaving me in a lonely bed, wondering to myself if you’d ever come back to me.”
“Princess, though we escaped those pixies on the river, I fear some spell still lingers on you to give you such dreams.”
“No dream, husband. Just a memory or two returning. The night as dark as any, and there I was, alone in our bed, knowing all the while you were gone to another younger and fairer.”
“Won’t you believe me, princess? This is the work of those pixies still working mischief between us.”
“You may be right, Axl. And if they were true memories, they’re of long ago. Even so …” She became silent, so that Axl thought she had dozed off again. But then she said: “Even so, husband, they’re remembrances to make me shrink from you. When we’ve finished resting here, and we’re on our path again, let me walk a little way in front and you behind. Let’s go on our way like that, husband, for I’ll not welcome your step beside me now.”
He said nothing to this at first. Then he lowered the garment away from the fire and turned to look at her. Her eyes were closed again, yet he was sure she had not fallen asleep. When Axl finally found his voice, it had come out as no more than a whisper.
“It would be the saddest thing to me, princess. To walk separately from you, when the ground will let us go as we always did.”
Beatrice gave no indication of having heard, and within moments her breathing had grown long and even. He had then put on his newly warmed clothes and lain down on a blanket not far from his wife, but without touching her. An overwhelming tiredness swept over him, and yet he saw again the pixies swarming in the water before him, and the hoe he had swung through the air landing in their midst, and he remembered the noise as of children playing in the distance, and how he had fought, almost like a warrior with fury in his voice. And now she had said what she had. A picture came into his mind, clear and vivid, of himself and Beatrice on a mountain road, large grey skies above them, she walking several steps before him, and a great melancholy welled up within him. There they went, an elderly couple, heads bowed, five, six paces apart.
He awoke to find the fire smouldering, and Beatrice on her feet, peering out through one of the small gaps in the stone that constituted the windows of an abode such as this. Thoughts of their last exchange returned to him, but Beatrice turned, her features caught in a triangle of sunlight, and said in a cheerful voice:
“I thought to wake you before, Axl, seeing the morning grow outside. But then I kept thinking of the soaking you got in the river and that you needed more than a brief nod or two.”
Only when he did not reply did she ask: “What is it, Axl? Why look at me like that?”
“I’m just gazing at you in relief and happiness, princess.”
“I’m feeling much better, Axl. Rest was all I needed.”
“I see that now. Then let’s soon be on our way, for as you say, the morning’s grown while we slept.”
“I’ve been watching these children, Axl. Even now they stand by that same ditch as when we first came upon them. They’ve something down there draws them and it’s some mischief, I’ll wager, for they often glance back the way they think some adult will discover and scold them. Where can their people be, Axl?”
“It’s not our concern, and besides, they seem well enough fed and clothed. Let’s say our farewells and be gone.”
“Axl, can it be you and I were quarrelling earlier? I feel something came between us.”
“Nothing we can’t put aside, princess. Though we may speak of it before the day’s finished, who knows? But let’s be on our way before hunger and cold overtake us again.”
When they emerged into the chilly sunshine, Axl saw patches of ice on the grass, a large sky and mountains fading into the distance. The goat was eating over in its enclosure, a muddy upturned bucket near its feet.
The three children were still beside the ditch, looking down into it, their backs to the cottage, and appeared to be quarrelling. The girl was the first to realise Axl and Beatrice were approaching, and even as she spun around her face broke into a bright smile.
“Dear elders!” She started to come quickly away from the ditch, pulling her brothers with her. “I hope you found our home comfortable, humble though it is!”
“We did, child, and we’re most grateful to you. Now we’re well rested and ready to be on our way. But what’s become of your people that they leave you alone?”
The girl exchanged glances with her brothers, who had taken up positions on either side of her. Then she said, a little hesitantly: “We manage by ourselves, sir,” and put an arm around each of the boys.
“And what is it down in that ditch draws you so?” Beatrice asked.
“It’s just our goat, mistress. It was once our best goat, but it died.”
“How did your goat come to die, child?” Axl asked gently. “The other there looks well enough.”
The children exchanged more glances, and a decision seemed to pass among them.
“Go look if you will, sir,” the girl said, and letting go of her brothers, she stepped to one side.
Beatrice fell in step beside him as he went towards the ditch. Before they were halfway there, Axl stopped and said in a whisper: “Let me go alone first, princess.”
“Do you think I never saw a dead goat before, Axl?”
“Even so, princess. Wait here a moment.”
The ditch was as deep as a man’s height. The sun, now shining almost directly into it, should have made it easier to discern what was before him, but instead created confusing shadows, and where there was puddle and ice, a myriad of dazzling surfaces. The goat appeared to have been of monstrous proportions, and now lay in several dismembered pieces. Over there, a hind leg; there the neck and head—the latter wearing a serene expression. It took a little longer to identify the soft upturned belly of the animal, because pressed into it was a giant hand emerging from the dark mud. Only then did he see that much of what initially he had taken to be of the dead goat belonged to a second creature entangled with it. That mound there was a shoulder; that a stiffened knee. Then he saw movement and realised the thing in the ditch was still alive.
“What do you see, Axl?”
“Don’t come forward, princess. It’s no sight to raise your spirits. Some poor ogre, I’d suppose, dying a slow death, and maybe these children have foolishly thrown it a goat, thinking it might recover itself with eating.”
Even as he spoke, a large hairless head revolved slowly in the slime, a gaping eye moving with it. Then the mud sucked greedily and the head vanished.
“We didn’t feed the ogre, sir,” the girl’s voice said behind him. “We know never to feed an ogre, but to bar ourselves inside at their coming. And so we did with this one, sir, and we watched from our window while he pulled down our fence and took our best goat. Then he sat down just there, sir, where you are now, his legs dangling over like he’s an infant, and happily eating the goat raw, the way ogres will. We knew not to unbar the door, and the sun getting lower, and the ogre still eating our goat, but we could see he’s getting weaker, sir. Then at last he stands up, holding what’s left of the goat, then he falls down, first to his knees, then onto his side. Next thing he rolls into the ditch, goat and all, and it’s two days he’s been down there and still not dead.”
“Let’s come away, child,” Axl said. “This is no sight for you or your brothers. But what is it made this poor ogre so sick? Can it be your goat was diseased?”
“Not diseased, sir, poisoned! We’d been feeding it more than a full week just the way Bronwen taught us. Six times each day with the leaves.”
“Why did you do such a thing, child?”
“Why, sir, to make the goat poisonous for the she-dragon. This poor ogre wasn’t to know that and so he poisoned himself. But it’s not our fault, sir, because he shouldn’t have been marauding the way he was!”
“A moment, child,” Axl said. “Are you saying you fed the goat deliberately to fill it with poison?”
“Poison for the she-dragon, sir, but Bronwen said it wouldn’t harm any of us. So how could we know the poison might harm an ogre? We weren’t to blame, sir, and meant no wickedness!”
“No one will ever blame you, child. Yet tell me, why were you wishing to prepare poison for Querig, for I take it this is the she-dragon you talk of?”
“Oh, sir! We said our prayers morning and night and often in the day too. And when you came this morning, we knew God had sent you. So please say you’ll help us, for we’re just poor children forgotten by our parents! Will you take that goat there, the only one left to us now, and go with it up that path to the giant’s cairn? It’s an easy walk, sir, less than half a day there and back, and I’d do it myself but can’t leave these young ones alone. We’ve fed this goat just the way we did the one eaten by the ogre, and this with three more days’ leaves in it. If only you’d take it to the giant’s cairn and leave it tethered there for the she-dragon, sir, and it’s but an easy stroll. Please say you’ll do it, elders, for we’re fearing nothing else will bring our dear mother and father back to us.”
“At last you speak of them,” Beatrice said. “What’s to be done to bring your parents back to you?”
“Didn’t we just tell you, mistress? If you’d only take the goat up to the giant’s cairn, where it’s well known food’s regularly left for the she-dragon. Then who knows, she’ll perish the same way that poor ogre has, and he was a strong-looking one before his meal! We’d always been afraid before of Bronwen because of her wise arts, but when she saw we were here alone, forgotten by our own parents, she took pity on us. So please help us, elders, for who knows when anyone else will come this way? We’re afraid to show ourselves to soldiers or strange men who pass, but you’re the ones we prayed for to the God Jesus.”
“But what is it young children like you can know of this world,” asked Axl, “that you believe a poisonous goat will bring your parents back to you?”
“It’s what Bronwen told us, sir, and though she’s a terrible old woman, she never lies. She said it’s the she-dragon lives over us here made our parents forget us. And even though we often make our mother angry with our mischief, Bronwen says the day she remembers us again, she’ll hurry back and hold us one by one like this.” The girl suddenly clutched an invisible child to her breast, her eyes closing, and rocked gently for a moment. Then opening her eyes again, she went on: “But for now the she-dragon’s cast some spell to make our parents forget us, so they’ll not come home. Bronwen says the she-dragon’s a curse not just to us but to everyone and the sooner she perishes the better. So we worked hard, sir, feeding both goats exactly as she said, six times each day. Please do as we ask, or we won’t ever see our mother and father again. All we ask is you tether the goat at the giant’s cairn then go your way.”
Beatrice started to speak, but Axl said over her quickly: “I’m sorry, child. We wish we could help you, but to climb higher into these hills is now beyond us. We’re elderly, and as you see, weary from days of hard travel. We’ve no choice but to hurry on our way before further misfortune takes us.”
“But, sir, it was God himself sent you to us! And it’s but a short stroll, and not even a steep path from here.”
“Dear child,” Axl said, “our hearts go out to you, and we’ll raise help at the next village. But we’re too weak to do what you ask, and surely others will pass this way soon, happy to take the goat for you. It’s beyond us old ones, but we’ll pray for your parents’ return and that God will keep you safe always.”
“Don’t go, elders! It wasn’t our fault the ogre was poisoned.”
Taking his wife’s arm, Axl led her away from the children. He did not look back until they had passed the goat’s pen, and then he saw the children still standing there, three abreast, watching silently, the towering cliffs behind them. Axl waved encouragingly, but something like shame—and perhaps the trace of some distant memory, a memory of another such departure—made him increase his pace.
But before they had gone far—the marshy ground had started to descend and the valleys to open before them—Beatrice tugged his arm to slow them.
“I didn’t wish to talk across you before those children, husband,” she said. “But is it really beyond us to do as they ask?”
“They’re in no immediate peril, princess, and we have our own worries. How goes your pain now?”
“My pain’s no worse. Axl, look how those children stand as we left them, watching as we grow ever smaller in their sight. Can’t we at least pause beside this stone and talk further on it? Let’s not hasten away carelessly.”
“Don’t look back to them, princess, for you only taunt their hopes. We’ll not go back to their goat, but down into this valley, a fire and what food kind strangers may give us.”
“But think on what it is they ask, Axl.” Beatrice had now brought them to a halt. “Will a chance like this ever come our way again? Think on it! We stumble to this spot so near Querig’s lair. And these children offer a poisonous goat by which even the two of us, old and weak though we are, might bring down the she-dragon! Think on it, Axl! If Querig falls, the mist will fast begin to clear. Who’s to say those children aren’t right and God himself didn’t bring us this way?”
Axl remained silent for a moment, fighting the urge to look back towards the stone cottage. “There’s no telling that goat will bring any harm at all to Querig,” he said eventually. “A hapless ogre’s one thing. This she-dragon’s a creature to scatter an army. And can it be wise for two elderly fools like us to wander so near her lair?”
“We’re not to face her, Axl, only to tether the goat and flee. It may be days before Querig comes to the spot, and we’ll by then be safe at our son’s village. Axl, don’t we want returned to us our memories of this long life lived together? Or will we become like strangers met one night in a shelter? Come, husband, say we’ll turn back and do as those children bid us.”
So here they were, climbing still higher, the winds growing stronger. For the moment, the twin rocks provided good shelter, but they could not stay like this for ever. Axl wondered yet again if he had been foolish to give in.
She was sitting close beside him now, though her eyes were still on the distance and the line of tiny figures.
“What is it you ask, Axl?”
“It’s simply this, princess. Should Querig really die and the mist begin to clear. Should memories return, and among them of times I disappointed you. Or yet of dark deeds I may once have done to make you look at me and see no longer the man you do now. Promise me this at least. Promise, princess, you’ll not forget what you feel in your heart for me at this moment. For what good’s a memory’s returning from the mist if it’s only to push away another? Will you promise me, princess? Promise to keep what you feel for me this moment always in your heart, no matter what you see once the mist’s gone.”
“I’ll promise it, Axl, and no hardship to do so.”
“Words can’t tell how it comforts me to hear you say it, princess.”
“A queer mood you’re in, Axl. But who knows how much further it is till the giant’s cairn? Let’s not spend any more time sitting between these great stones. Those children were anxious when we left, and they’ll be awaiting our return.”
Gawain’s Second Reverie
This cursed wind. Is this a storm before us? Horace will mind neither wind nor rain, only that a stranger sits astride him now and not his old master. “Just a weary woman,” I tell him, “with greater need of the saddle than me. So carry her in good grace.” Yet why is she here at all? Does Master Axl not see how frail she grows? Has he lost his mind to bring her to these unforgiving heights? But she presses on as determined as he, and nothing I say will turn them back. So I stagger here on foot, a hand on Horace’s bridle, heaving this rusty coat. “Did we not always serve ladies with courtesy?” I murmur to Horace. “Would we ride on, leaving this good couple tugging at their goat?”