Gene Wolfe - The Wizard

Svon nodded.

“First, we need to test the waters. If we sent Sir Garvaon and his men-at-arms with you, the Angrborn would feel threatened. I have no doubt they would attack you.”

“I agree,” Thiazi declared.

“But one knight and one squire—don’t take your lance, by the way. I want you to leave that here.”

“I will, Your Lordship.”

“Are clearly no threat. They’ve had ample time to grow used to the idea that there are humans in Utgard, friends of their king who are neither slaves nor foes. If I’m right, they should let you alone. I think you’ll find I am.”

Thiazi favored Svon with a cruel smile. “If Lord Beel’s misjudged, you’ll find yourself in a fight that will make you famous even if you lose. As you will. Will you still go?”

“Certainly, My Lord.”

Beel spoke to Thiazi. “I told you.”

“I know you did. I didn’t believe you.” He shrugged.

Svon rose, sliding from the seat of his chair to the floor. “Is that all, Your Lordship?”

“You’re anxious to be away.”

“Yes, Your Lordship. I am.”

“There is one more item.” Beel looked from Svon to Toug and back again. “Lord Thiazi tells me that under the laws of Jotunland the king can commandeer the slaves of his subjects if he has need of them. The slaves of this smith—Logi?”

Toug said, “Yes, Your Lordship.”

“Assisted him in making the tools Toug saw. You are to sequester them, if you can, in the king’s name, and bring them here.”

Thiazi added, “Or kill them if you cannot.”

Toug started to speak, then closed his mouth and waited for Svon; but all Svon said was “I will, My Lord.”

Toug cleared his throat. “I ask a boon, My Lord.”

Thiazi smiled as before. “To which you think yourself entitled, I’m sure.”

“Yes. Yes, I do. You just gave me one, I know. You gave me my sister. That was really very nice of you, and I haven’t forgotten.”

“Yet you believe that you’re owed another.”

Beel said, “I will grant it myself, Squire, if I can.”

“You can’t, Your Lordship. Or anyhow I don’t think so.”

Thiazi leaned forward, both huge hands on the polished black wood of the huge table. “This is becoming interesting. Tell me why you deserve this boon, and I may grant it.”

Toug filled his lungs. “When you gave me my sister, My Lord—and I’ll never forget it—it was for going outside alone at night and finding Logi’s forge, and killing him. Now I’m going out again, only in daylight. We’ll probably be killed. Everybody here knows that.”

Svon nodded and said, “I must speak to you privately.”

“So I’d like the reward first, and because it may make it easier for me to do what you want us to do. I mean, get Logi’s slaves, and bring them here.”

“Go on,” Thiazi told him.

“What I want is for you to promise that if we do, you’ll set them free. All of them who come here and help the king. If you promise, we can tell them that you did and they’ll do everything they can to help, and that may do it.”

“Bravo,” Beel muttered; and then, more loudly, “Bravo!”

“It’s not a bad thought, Squire.” Thiazi relaxed, with an amused smile at Beel. “I’d be disposed to grant it, if I could. Unfortunately, our law forbids the freeing of slaves for any reason.”

“You tried,” Svon whispered to Toug.

“However, I can offer another. One you may like as well or better. The slaves you bring here will be divided between Sir Svon and yourself. Sir Svon will have first choice, you second, Sir Svon third, and so on. Thus you shall each receive the same if the total is even, and Sir Svon one more if the total is odd.”

“That won’t make them help us,” Toug muttered. “They don’t want to belong to us.”

“Oh, but it will. In time you and Sir Svon will return to Celidon, and they’ll be free.” Thiazi paused, and the cruel smile returned, “Unless, of course, you choose to sell them before you go. But you need not tell them that.”

I sat up; and seeing Uns crouched by the fire to spread my shirt to the warmth of the flames, I said, “I’ve had the strangest dream.”

“I got sumpin’ I gotta tell ya, sar.”

“In a moment, Uns. I want to tell somebody about this before I forget. We never dreamed in Skai. Did I tell you?”

Uns shook his head.

“We never did,and it never seemed odd to us that we didn’t. At least, it never seemed odd to me.” I found Parka’s bowstring among my blankets and showed it to Uns. “I was listening to this before I slept. That might have had something to do with it.”

“Wid not dreamin’ in Skai, sar?”

“With my dream. I don’t know why I didn’t dream there. Perhaps the others did, though I never heard anybody mention it. The Valkyrie’s kiss brings forgetfulness so deep that I never thought of Disiri. It seems impossible, but I didn’t.”

“Yessar.”

“I was conscious of something wrong, you understand.” I fell silent, lost in thought. “Exactly as I was conscious of something wrong in my dream. Years passed before I could put a name to it—before I remembered her face. That was when I went to the Valfather.”

“Jist like me comin’ ter ya, sar.”

“My Valkyrie was Alvit, Uns. She’d been a princess and died a virgin, facing death with dauntless courage. I should have held her dearer than Disiri. I wanted to but couldn’t.”

“Yessar. Like ter see ‘un someday, sar.”

“Maybe you will. It isn’t at all likely, but it’s not impossible. What was I talking about?”

“‘Bout ya bowstring, sar, ‘n ya dream.”

“You’re right.” I lay down again and laid the bowstring on my chest. “My bowstring is spun of severed lives, Uns.”

“Fer real, sar?”

“Yes. Of lives that are ended, and I think lives cut short. It may be only because most lives are.”

“Guess so, sar.”

“So do I, Uns. It’s all either of us can do. Of lives cut short, whether for that reason or another. Maybe only because a woman cut them with her teeth for me. She may have ended the lives by that act. I can’t remember her name.”

“Don’t matter, sar.”

“She will remind me of it eventually, I feel sure. What I was going to say, Uns, was that whenever I let an arrow fly from this string, I hear them in its singing—hear their voices as they spoke in life. When I draw Eterne, all the knights who have held her unworthily appear.”

“Yessar. I seen ’em, sar.”

“Whether to affright my foes or encourage me, I can’t say. Sometimes they fight at my side. Sometimes—judging, I suppose, that I have no need of their aid—they don’t. Disiri saw to it that I gained Eterne. That I would have a chance to gain her, at least.”

“Yessar.” Uns had returned to his laundry, turning my drawers where they hung upon a bush, and feeding sticks and winter grass to the fire that dried them.

“She wanted me to win Eterne because she loves me.”

“Yessar.”

I sat up again, running my fingers along Parka’s string. “Have you heard this, Uns? Have you, Gylf?”

Both nodded, Gylf more circumspectly.

“You have?”

Uns nodded again. “Kin I tell my news now, sar? Won’t take mor’n a minute.”

“And you’ll bust unless you do. I understand. Okay, I’ll listen. But you must answer a question afterward, or try to. Is the king dead? King Gilling?”

“Nosar. Gettin’ better’s wot he sez.”

“King Gilling said that he was getting better?”

“Nosar. I mean, most like he done, sar, on’y ‘twarn’t him I heered. ‘Twar that cat, sar. Ya cat, on’y if’n he’s yorn, why ain’t he here ter tell ya hisself ?”