Gene Wolfe - The Wizard

“I might tame her in time, I suppose,” he said.

“No, My Lord.”

“No one but yourself, eh?”

“I’ve ridden her,” Wistan said, “but Sir Able’s right, I wouldn’t try it unless she likes you.”

“My weight, perhaps. Well, she’s a remarkable animal, Sir Able. I won’t ask whether you’ll sell her. I know the answer. It wouldn’t be just in any event when you hope for an audience with the king.”

I said, “I do, My Lord. Very much. I must get one.”

“I understand. Some things, anyway. You’ve no friends at court? None? Ah. Your face says otherwise. Who is he?”

“She, My Lord. Princess Morcaine. Anyway I hope she’s my friend, but I don’t want to bother her unless I have to.”

The Earl Marshal wiped his face with his hand, then wiped his hand on his coat. “That, I ought to have guessed long ago. This isn’t one of my brilliant days. As to her friendship, who knows? It’s the wind. I myself—well, I hope you don’t find her friendship worse than her enmity”

It seemed a good time to say nothing, so I did.

“I ask you again. Who sends your message to the king? We’ll send the boy away if it suits you.”

“I think it better not to talk about that, My Lord.”

“As you wish.” The Earl Marshal gave Cloud a final pat, and turned away. “I like you, Sir Able. I’ll do what I can for you, but there are risks I cannot take.”

“He’s no common knight, My Lord, as I told you.” Wistan sounded older than his years. “You’re wise to go carefully. You’d be wiser still to make a friend of him, if you can.”

The Earl Marshal nodded as though to himself. “I will soon try. First, Sir Able, I can’t ask an audience with the king at which you’ll deliver a message of which I’m ignorant. You will not so much as confide the name of the sender. Will you? This is your final opportunity.”

“I won’t, My Lord.” It was not as cold as it had been in Jotunland, but the stable was unheated and open in scores of places; I drew my cloak about me. “As for confiding the message itself, I can’t. It is not in my power to do it.”

“You are bound by an oath, eh?”

“No, My Lord. I don’t know what it is.”

“Yet you could deliver it to the king?”

“Yes, My Lord. I’ll know it, My Lord, when we meet.”

Wistan said, “There’s but one way to discover it, My Lord, and if the words are ungracious you can’t be blamed.”

“You know little of the world.” The Earl Marshal turned to me. “I can’t run the risk of begging an audience for you, not with the best of wills. I hope you understand.”

“I’m grateful for your good wishes, My Lord.”

“I proffer two suggestions. The first depends on me, the second on you. Here’s the first, if you wish it. When the time seems ripe, I will inform the king that a strange knight has come with news from the north, that he reports King Gilling fallen, and a new king in Utgard—with many marvels. It isn’t improbable the king will ask that you be brought before him. Shall I do it? The choice is yours.”

“I beg you to. I’ll be indebted forever, My Lord.”

“The second. You are a stout knight and overthrew all who challenged you in the north. There will be a tourney in three days, as always at Yeartide. You could enter those events at which you may excel. Those who greatly distinguish themselves will be entertained by the king and queen.”

I vowed that I would strive to be among them, and he dismissed me.

After taking my leave, I sought out the pursuivant of the Nykr King of Arms, as King Arnthor’s herald was styled, he being charged with enrolling those who would enter the lists. He was away in the town; I waited until the short day was ended and rode back to our inn. That I was out of sorts I will not deny. I was curt with Pouk and Uns, although less so when I considered that I had gone far toward making a friend of the Earl Marshal, a most influential official of the court, that he was to speak to the king about me, and that I might hope to win an audience in the tournament.

I was making ready for bed when Wistan came. He bowed, apologized for his conduct, and declared I might beat him if I wished. I said, of course, that since he was no longer my squire I had no business beating him—that squires were beaten so they would be better knights by and by, and I was no longer concerned to make a knight of him.

“I pray you will reconsider, Sir Able. I behaved badly. I acknowledge it. Sir Svon told me he behaved badly when he was your squire. You never dismissed him, and before you left us, you knighted him.”

“Sir Svon fought the dragon, Wistan.” I made my tone as dry as I could.

Only his eyes reminded me that I had not.

“Reason and honor forbade it. You know I bear a dragon on my shield, perhaps you know also why it is there.”

He nodded. “Toug told me. Is it really true?”

“Since I don’t know what he told you, I can’t say.” I yawned. “You came so I could beat you? I won’t. Now go.”

He shook his head. “I came so you could take me back.”

“I won’t do that, either.”

“You involve me in great difficulties, Sir Able.” He looked frightened. “Would you see me hung up and flogged?”

I shrugged.

“It’ll kill my mother. She’s proud of all of us—I’ve got two sisters—but proudest of me. They’ll say the king did it. It won’t be true, but they’ll say it and it’ll kill her.”

I said I doubted that anyone would do it. “Are you afraid, Wistan, that I’ll tell the Earl Marshal you ought to be flogged? I won’t. You have my word.”

“He’ll take me into his service, Sir Able. He said so.”

“I congratulate you.”

“I—I’d have nice clothes like Payn’s. I’d live very comfortably. Good food and money. A warm bed.”

“Then take it.”

“I want to be a knight. Like Sir Garvaon. Like you.”

It hung in the air between us until I hugged him. When I released him, he gasped like Baki. “I—Does this mean I’m your squire again?”

“If you wish it. Yes.”

“I do.”

I called Org, and he came forward to stand at my side.

“Is this to frighten me? I’ve seen him before, in the wood with Sir Svon.”

“I know,” I said. “You were frightened just the same.”

Wistan nodded. “I still am.”

“Then you see that you may be afraid without dashing out of the room.” He nodded.

“A knight’s actions are governed by his honor,” I said, “not by his fear.”

“You said something like that before.”

“I’ll say it again, over and over, in as many ways as I can. Knowing it isn’t enough. It has to become part of you. Why were you afraid they’d flog you?”

“They won’t now. I’ll tell you, but I need to tell you something else first. I told the Earl Marshal about going to Jotunland. How we set out and how you joined us. How you and Sir Garvaon rode down from the pass to fight when the giants attacked, and Utgard. Everything I knew.”

“Did you tell him who killed King Gilling?”

Wistan shook his head. “No. I don’t know. I said I thought it was Schildstarr or one of the giants with him, because I do. But I can’t be sure. The important thing is that I told him about you. I told him Toug saw you die, but you came back to help us anyway. I told him everything I knew, and he made me swear to certain things. That was one, and Queen Idnn’s bringing a hundred giant women was another. I pointed my sword to Skai and swore like he wanted, and he said the women would be the test—that when the women came he’d know I was telling the truth and take me. So he knows all that. Everything I know about Jotunland.”