Gene Wolfe - The Wizard

An owl hooted and I heard Cloud stamp, ready to gallop.

“Something gnawed me. I woke up crying and couldn’t remember the dreams. Here I don’t sleep. Not like you do.”

“Something was said about that earlier.”

“Then I probably lied, but I promised the truth now. A wise friend saw I wasn’t really happy, though I didn’t know it. He returned to my mind a thousand things I’d forgotten.”

“Were you on the Isle of Glas?”

Surprised, I looked up. “I have been. Why do you ask?”

“An old woman who used to tell me stories said that men there forgot their lives and were only happy and foolish.”

“I know nothing about that,” I said slowly, “but I’ve been there and I’d like to go back someday. When my memories returned, you see, I knew that what I’d thought was happiness was just oblivion. I could never be happy without Disiri.”

“You’re fortunate, Sir Able, exactly as I said.”

“I’m glad you think so. Here I returned bound. I don’t intend to talk about the restriction put on me by my friend. It’s another restriction that concerns you. I gave my word to Duke Marder, swearing I’d go to these mountains, take my stand, and hold the pass against every other knight ‘til ice floated in the harbor at Forcetti.”

“Or your arms were forfeit.”

“Right. With helm, mail, and shield gone, I couldn’t hold the pass. I’d promised to fight, but not to fight well. You unhorsed me—”

“She’s here.” The Knight of the Leopards pointed. “I never knew a horse could walk as silently as a doe.”

Cloud came to me, lowering her head for me to stroke.

“Does she understand what we say?”

“More than a child, but less than a woman. But she understands us better than a woman would, and beyond that I can’t say. I’d planned to give her to you. My sword too. The sword is the ancient brand Eterne.”

The Knight of the Leopards paled.

“It was too late when I saw I couldn’t—that it was a coward’s path I followed with a thief’s conscience. How long ‘til ice fills Forcetti’s harbor?”

He shook his head. “No man alive knows less of ice and snow than I, Sir Able.”

“That’s the dead of winter. Six weeks. Two months, maybe. ‘Til then no knight gets past me. Then I’ll be free, and find Queen Disiri...”

“As you hoped to do today.”

“Right. I need a lance—a better one than the one I got from you, though I beg your pardon for saying it.”

“My pardon will be gladly given, if you will tell me what ails mine.”

“They’re ash or worse, and too long. Is it by breaking his lances that a knight gets glory?”

“In part, it seems.”

“In other words, they’re lances made to break. I don’t want glory. I want victory, and spiny orange.”

The Knight of the Leopards fetched Cloud’s blanket, and I my war saddle. While I was tightening the cinch, he got her bridle, but I waved it away.

I swung into the saddle, and we galloped up a hill of air. When we reached its summit, we stopped. I whistled, and Gylf ran up it to trot at Cloud’s heels.

“A naked girl.” Ulfa looked Toug up and down. Toug nodded.

“Did I say you hadn’t grown since the last time I saw you? I know I did. Ymir! Was I wrong!”

“I didn’t expect it either,” Toug assured her, “and we don’t have to have clothes. She’s hiding, and she can keep on hiding. But if she could get clothes she could talk to people—it’s pretty dark already because of the snow, and it’ll be night before too much longer.”

Ulfa nodded wearily. “Winter days are short up here.”

“So we don’t have to, but it’d help. Boots for me would help, too. And I’ve got to find that cat.”

“King Gilling’s cat.”

“Lady Idnn’s. Only maybe he’s really Sir Able’s. Cats don’t like to tell you about this stuff.”

“He’s not—” Ulfa searched for a word. “Outgoing? Not as chatty as you might like him to be, this cat.”

“Oh, he talks a lot.”

“A talking cat.”

Toug nodded. “That’s why the king wants him, or part of it. We’re supposed to be in our room and Thiazi’s watching, so he must know we’re gone. Have you got any clothes besides what you’re wearing?”

“Upstairs.” Ulfa gestured, and Toug trotted after her.

“You’ve got nice clothes yourself,” she said when they had started climbing a stone stair whose steps were far too high. “What happened to your nice warm cloak?”

“Baki’s got it now,” Toug explained. “Lady Idnn gave it to me. She said if I fought well when we fought the giants, she’d give me a shield with the white griffin on it. And she did, only it’s back with Sir Svon. When she gave it to me, she gave me this too. She said somebody who was going to be a knight shouldn’t shiver.”

“It’s always cold here. I suppose you’ve noticed I’m dressed in rags?”

“They aren’t that bad,” Toug declared stoutly.

“They’re the best I’ve got. Why don’t you get your friend Lady Idnn to give this—this naked girl—”

“Baki.”

“This Baki some clothes?”

“She might,” Toug said thoughtfully. “Only all the rest of us are outside the walls. When Mani—Mani’s the cat.”

“The talking cat.” Ulfa looked back at him.

“Yes. When Mani talks to the king, he’s got to get him to let them in. Or that’s what I think.” He looked up the steps into darkness. “Aren’t there any torches?”

“Just cressets. It’s a basket of iron straps you can burn things in. If this castle weren’t stone, we couldn’t use them. And there aren’t many of those, because the giants can see in the dark and they don’t care if we fall off.”

“I see,” Toug said.

“Which means you don’t. All our men are blind, so they don’t care that there’s no cressets either. Are we going to have to go back down to give my clothes to your girl?”

“She’ll come up with us, I think.”

Ulfa stopped to look behind her, and he bumped into her in the darkness. “Sorry!”

“I don’t see her,” Ulfa declared.

Baki’s hand slipped into Toug’s. “You might not,” Toug said. “Or Mani either, if Mani didn’t want us to see him.”

The three of them went down a dismal hallway that would have been as dark as the stair if some of the doors along it had not been open; at the end Ulfa opened the door of a room larger than Toug had expected. In it, two narrow beds had been pushed together to make a wide one. Ulfa tossed fresh wood on the embers in the little fireplace.

“This isn’t so bad,” Toug said.

“Most aren’t this nice. Pouk can fight.”

Nodding, Toug went to the window and put his head out. The turret in which he and Mani had been confined was visible far below and to the right, with an umber flag standing out straight from, a pole on the roof.

“You’ll catch cold.” It sounded like home.

He turned back to Ulfa. “I will anyhow, I guess.”

“Here.” In quick succession she handed him a woman’s linen shift, stained but serviceable, a gray wool gown with holes under the arms, and a short cloak that might once have been bearskin, although most of the fur was gone.

“I don’t have shoes,” Ulfa told him, “and I don’t have stockings I can spare. Pouk might be able to give you a pair of boots.” She considered. “But I don’t know and I’m not about to give away his things, not even to my brother. Or he might be able to get you some.”

“I really appreciate this,” Toug said. He held up the gown. “I’m afraid this will be too long.”

“Then she’ll have to hem it. This girl—I thought you said you and the cat were the only ones they let come in.”