Gene Wolfe - The Wizard

“He was with you, when you carried the king inside?”

“Of course. Our husband was talking then. He’d only been moaning before. He asked our father and Thiazi who had struck him. Our father said he didn’t know, and Thiazi that he’d been stabbed by some rebel. We carried him upstairs after that—the slaves did, but we went with them. He was coughing blood, and each time he coughed I thought he was going to die. It was horrible. We were walking behind his litter then, and there’d be great clots of blood. They...”

Abruptly, Idnn sat again, and Marder, Woddet, the Knight of the Leopards, Blind Berthold and Gerda, Hela and Heimir, Uns and I resumed our places as well, permitted by her nod.

“We were going to tell you they seemed alive,” Idnn said weakly, “but that wasn’t really how it was. They were dying. Like—like jellyfish. Did we tell you we’d bandaged him? We had, and there wasn’t much blood from his wound, but he kept coughing and coughing.”

Marder said, “A sucking wound,” and I nodded.

“We got him into bed, all the slaves and Thiazi and our father and we. He said to bar the doors of the castle, you understand. He was afraid the person who’d stabbed him would come in and... Finish. That was what he said. Finish.

“Thiazi went to see they were barred; the knights had followed our father in. Sir S-Svon and Sir Garvaon. They’d killed Skeol before the king was struck, and after that had just been trying to save their lives. They’d come up with him, with Master—with Master Papounce and others of our father’s folk. Some were hurt, and we bandaged them.”

I drank the last of my wine, poured out the lees, and put aside my flagon. “You wish us to return to Utgard with you. I will if I can, but maybe it’d be good for you to tell us about it. What can we do?”

Idnn raised her head. “Our father talked to our husband while Thiazi was gone. We were there and heard it, but took no part. He began by asking our husband whom he could trust, and when our husband said he could trust only Thiazi, our father assured him that he could trust us, saying we had been sent in friendship by our king and would never betray him.

“Our husband was grateful. He was weak, you understand. Very weak, but he thanked our father over and over. Then our father reminded him that Thiazi’s magic had said the throne would stand secure if he took you into his service.”

She looked at Marder, Woddet, and the Knight of the Leopards. “We don’t think you know about that, but it did. Thiazi recited spells and looked into his crystal, and a spirit there said the king must get Sir Able to fight for him or lose his throne. He and Thiazi had told our father, and our father reminded him of it.”

Marder asked whether the king had agreed.

“Oh, yes.” Idnn drew her black velvet cloak about her more tightly; the sun had vanished behind the mountains of the west, and the wind promised snow. “He wanted our father to send for you, and our father promised he would.”

“No one has come,” Woddet said.

“We have come. We wed His Majesty next day. It seemed to us—we mean to our husband, our father, and we—that it would be best if the ceremony were witnessed by Thiazi, Thrym, and other Angrborn. We sacrificed to our Overcyns and the Giants of Skai. Only small sacrifices, three fowls and two rabbits, but they were all we had. Our husband...”

Marder said, “Yes?”

“He wanted to sacrifice twenty slaves. We were able to dissuade him, telling him that King Arnthor would never come to our aid if he knew we’d offered human beings.”

“You hoped for help from Thortower?” Marder asked.

“Yes. Yes, of course we did. We do. We hope that when King Arnthor learns that we, a noblewoman of his realm, have become Queen of Jotunland, he’ll send help.”

“At last I understand,” said the Knight of the Leopards.

“Understand also that silence is best,” Marder told him.

I said, “Your father promised King Gilling he would send someone for help. He cannot have intended to send you.”

“He’ll be half mad with worry,” Idnn conceded, “but he will soon persuade Thiazi to view us in his crystal, or view us himself in a basin—you may tell the rest about that if you wish. Then he’ll see us here speaking to you, and that we’re safe. Sir Garvaon and Sir Svon offered to go, but they were badly hurt. I was terribly afraid my father would let Sir Svon go. He isn’t wounded as badly as Sir Garvaon and is younger. He has recovered remarkably. Their squires offered to go in their places, either or both together, but one’s been wounded and they’re only boys. So we went.”

“And came through safely,” I remarked.

“By the Lady’s grace. We prayed—prayed ever so hard—that she’d let us live ‘til our marriage was consummated, and she’s given us reason to hope she’s granted our prayer. You’ve been patient, all of you. May we try your patience a bit more? Sir Able, you hold His Grace’s parole?”

“I suppose I do, but I’ll free him of it whenever he wishes. I ask no ransom.”

“Then free him, and we’ll beg him to go to King Arnthor and tell him how badly we need his help in Utgard.” Idnn turned to Marder and took his hand. “You’ll go, won’t you, Your Grace? Peace—a peace with Jotunland that will last—is almost within our grasp, and we’ll bless you to the end of our days.”

“You are a most excellent queen, Your Majesty.” Marder shook himself as Gylf would when he left a river. “So good, so beautiful and brave, that it’s a great temptation to give you whatever you ask, no matter how unwise. Ten years ago, I probably would have.”

He rummaged in a pocket of his jerkin. “Let us arrange lesser matters first. Sir Able, I have money in earnest of my ransom. You have given me fealty have you not? You must obey my instructions. Take this and do not argue. We must ride tomorrow, and we should ride early.”

The purse I had refused earlier landed in my lap.

“For the remainder of my ransom, you will have my favor as long as I live, and a seat in my council.” He cleared his throat. “Now you’re to answer yes. Are those things, with the foreign coins, sufficient?”

“Your Grace—” I began.

“I thank you for your most gracious acceptance,” Marder told me firmly. “In return, I free you from your oath. You have held the pass indeed, but you have held it long enough.”

Uns started to clap, but I silenced him.

“I ride north at first light in service to the Queen of Jotunland,” Marder continued. “I take it that you, my loyal vassal, will ride with me?”

“Joyfully, Your Grace.”

Woddet exclaimed, “And I with Sir Able, if he’ll have me.” To which the Knight of the Leopards added, “And I!”

Marder thanked them both. “As for your errand to King Arnthor, Your Majesty, my herald can-perform it better than I could. I’ll send him in the morning, south at the same time the rest of us go north. But I warn you, whatever help our king sends will probably arrive too late. Men will have to be collected and supplied. Your yourself rode from Thortower to this point on the border of Jotunland, did you not?”

Silently, Idnn nodded.

“How long did it take you, Your Majesty?”

“Two months.” Idnn’s answer was so softly voiced that Blind Berthold cupped his ear to hear her.

“Before winter set in?” She nodded.

“My herald must reach King Arnthor first. Preparations will not began until he does.” Marder tugged his beard. “I told Sir Able once that he was to hold this pass until there was ice in the bay. The bay will be clear before we can have any hope of help from King Arnthor. We will have to settle this ourselves, and we’ll need every sword for it.”