Gene Wolfe - The Wizard

For the third there remained eight knights counting me. I was sore under my arm and had a dented helm; those raised the storm, and I went for my man to kill him if I could, and had him down before he struck a blow. He was of noble blood like Svon, and a kinsman of his.

Four remained. I fought my man as I had the third and downed him quicker, for I broke his haft with my first blow. He was Rober of Greenglory, a good, brave knight who was to fight alongside me in the River Battle.

That left two of us. A hanap was brought with good wine in it in which we pledged each other. He was as big a knight as I have ever faced; Woddet was no bigger. Gerrune was his name. He had no hall, but traveled from place to place and fought for pay, a free lance is what such knights are called. I thought it was his size that made him dangerous, because his halbert was half again the length of mine and the haft was thicker. I quickly found out that it was his cunning I had to watch out for; there was not a knight in Skai who knew more slights of arms. The blade of his halbert shone, and he caught sunlight on the flat to dazzle me. His blows began one way and ended another, coming thick and fast; it seemed that he would never tire, because he had no need to use his full strength.

He broke my halbert; I fought on like the man whose quarterstaff I had broken, and used the butt to parry, and struck with the head as if it were an ax, and stabbed with the pike-point, hit him on the knee and crippled him, and grappling him lifted him from his feet and threw him down.

I stood aside, and he doffed helm and loudly said he hoped we never fought again, and I was cheered.

But when the cheers had died away the trumpet sounded, and he—Sir Gerrune—was named victor.

“He bribed them!” Wistan declared; I shook my head, because I had seen his look of surprise.

That night Pouk knocked on our door. Wistan let him in, and he knuckled his forehead and said, “There’s two below what wants to see ya, sir. I don’t fancy their rig, only they give me this,” he displayed a small gold coin, “if I’d tell ya. Can I keep it?”

“Certainly. Did they give their names?”

“Jus’ the one, sir. Belos, he were.”

“Warlike,” Wistan translated (though I am not at all sure he was correct). “They could be assassins, Sir Able.”

I said I supposed they could be, or merchants wanting to sell us feathers, or any other thing; but I knew of nobody who wanted me dead, and two seemed pretty thin for a knight and his squire, to say nothing of Gylf, Org, Uns, and Pouk himself.

They were slender men in hooded robes that carried the smell of the sea, and they seemed young. Neither pushed back his hood and neither would meet my eyes. “We serve a great lady of Thortower,” said the first. “Her identity we will gladly reveal if you will send these servants of yours away.”

Wistan bristled, and I had to explain that although he served a knight, a squire was not a servant.

“She wishes to speak with you, and it is to your own benefit. We will bring you to her, but you must go alone.”

“You’ll take me to her,” I said, “but I won’t go alone. There are thieves—I’d have no one but you to defend me.”

They conferred while Wistan and Pouk grinned.

At last they separated. “We will protect you and take safe streets, and the distance is not great. Come, and we will see you back safe before sunrise.”

“I must sleep before sunrise,” I told them. “I’m weary, and tomorrow begins the jousting.”

They promised I would be back before moonrise.

I pointed to Gylf. “May I take my dog? He’ll be some protection for me.” One said yes, the other no. After wrangling, the second asked, “If you may take him, will you go?”

I nodded. “With Gylf, and with Wistan and Pouk. All of us now in this room.”

The first said, “In that case we must return to her who sent us and report that you will not come.”

I shook my head. “You must say I would’ve come, but you wouldn’t agree to my conditions. And you’ve got to tell Her Highness I knew you were Aelf as soon as I saw you. Remind her that I was a friend of her brother’s and refused to join my friends when they fought him.”

They were backing away as I spoke. I added, “For your safety I warn you that I’ll tell her all this myself when I see her, and that I told you to confess it.” They had vanished before I finished.

“They’ll be back tonight,” I told Pouk. “If they wake you up wanting you to take them to me again, say no.”

Pouk touched his forehead, and I waved him out. Wistan asked whether the dragon Vil had killed was really Princess Morcaine’s brother; I told him he was too clever by half and his ears would get him into trouble.

“But I need to know these things! You’re going to take me with you.”

“Because it’s my duty to teach you. I’ve done precious little teaching so far.”

“Have I complained?”

I yawned and said I felt sure he had.

“I haven’t! Probably I was thinking and frowned or something.”

“All right. The princess is the dragon’s sister. She’s human, as her father was, though not wholly human, since her mother was a dragon from Muspel. Dragons take human shape better than the Aelf. Do I have to explain that?”

“Please! Please, Sir Able!”

“Okay. There are seven worlds—if you know anything, you know that. This is the fourth, the one in the middle. This middle world is the most stable. There are some here who can change more than you and I can, but only a few and even they can’t change very much. As you go farther, there’s less stability. The Aelf look pretty human, and can look more human. They can take the shapes of animals and people but they can’t go much past that or get bigger or smaller. Their eyes give them away. They fade in the sun and run away from sunlight.”

“I remember from when they fought for us.”

“Those were Uri’s people. You saw her.”

He nodded.

“They’re Fire Aelf and were enslaved by Setr. Setr was the dragon. There’s another brother—no doubt you realize that. We’re not going to talk about him.”

The jousting differed from our practice at Sheerwall largely in the splendor of armor and bardings, and the dress of the spectators. Our lances were supplied by the pursuivant, in order that there might be no difference in their quality, and to ensure that each would be topped by a steel crown of the same design. Heavy practice armor was not worn, but many used shields stouter than they would have carried to war.

Lists separated the jousters so that their mounts would not collide. One might strike the helm or the chest, if one could, but our lances were aimed at our opponent’s shields, for the most part. Each pair engaged until one was knocked from the saddle or cast away his lance in surrender. I had but a single match that first day, against Kei, the champion of the year before. There was no nonsense about breaking lances with us. Each sought to unhorse the other from the beginning, yet we shattered six before Kei’s mount went down.

Wistan and I would have been admitted to the sunlit stand near the throne when my match was done; I told him we would join Pouk and Uns among the commoners, I having more foresight in this instance than in most.

They came in less than an hour, not best pleased to have been sent by day. The lady of whom they spoke had relented. She would overlook my earlier refusal and consent to see me. I thanked them for their kindness in bearing her message, and told Wistan to follow me and bring Pouk and Uns. Gylf had been exploring Thortower, for jousting held little interest for him. He joined us before we had gone far, and the Sea Aelf offered no objection.