Gene Wolfe - The Wizard

The knee before him was higher than his waist. He swung Sword Breaker with all the force that remained, and when the giant did not fall held her with both hands and swung again, though the pain left him half blind and he felt the grating of his broken bones.

“The castle!” It was Svon, and Svon was gripping his arm; the pain was excruciating. “Come on!”

Toug shouted, “Etela,” but Svon was not listening and nothing Toug said afterward made sense even to him.

An arrow flashed, followed by another and another. A clear voice rang over the shouting and the clash of steel. “We are your queen! Hear us, all of you! Stop this! We command it! We, Queen Idnn!”

“Hot slut!”

The insult brought another arrow, and the arrow a scream that might have been the very stones of Utgard crying out.

Silence fell, or something near to silence. Looking up, Toug saw a gray mount above the Great Gate of Utgard, a gray that pawed air, its reins held by a knight who held a bow as well. A woman in a riding skirt sat behind him; and although we were silhouetted against the noon sky Toug recognized her.

“By the authority of King Gilling, we command you stop! Is that my husband’s trusty servant Schildstarr below?”

“Aye!” roared Schildstarr.

“Restore order, Schildstarr! Hear us, you sons of Angr! He who strikes Schildstarr strikes us, and he who strikes us strikes the king!”

When Toug and Svon, with Etela between them, hurried through the Great Gate, the gross body of a Frost Giant stretched on the filthy mud of the bailey. Toug did not pause to look at it, although he was vaguely and weakly surprised. Crownless, clothed in bloodstained bandages, stripped of honor, it made little impression until he heard Svon’s awed whisper: “That was King Gilling!”

You’re young and healthy.” I paused to study the wounded face turned toward the floor, the jaw set hard. “This will heal. The bone will knit. In a year or three it will be a lot easier to forget than that puckering scar on your cheek.”

Mani sat motionless save for his tail, which switched and curled and straightened again. I sensed that Mani, too, was waiting for Toug to speak; but Toug did not speak.

“The broken ends didn’t go through the skin,” I said. “Sometimes they do, and that can be bad. Fatal, too often. When they don’t, the break nearly always heals.” I wound another strip of rag around Toug’s shoulder—pulling it tight, and knotting it more tightly still.

Etela said, “He can’t die. Don’t die, Toug.”

“Do you hear us?”

Slowly, Toug nodded.

“Good. You have to understand the point of all this bandaging. Why am I doing it when you’re not bleeding?”

“He is!” Etela exclaimed.

I nodded. A child at the edge of womanhood, I decided, and wondered whether Toug knew it, or knew what it portended.

Mani said, “The bleeding’s not severe or serious. Just skin lacerations and a little from the old wound because the bandage was torn away.”

“Cats can’t talk!” That was Etela.

“This is actually the knight speaking,” Mani declared smoothly. “The knight can throw his voice.”

“I don’t believe you!” Etela jumped to her feet.

“But you must,” Mani told her. “Cats can’t talk.”

I watched Toug’s lips, hoping for a smile. “Mani’s right,” I said. “The salve would be enough if the bleeding bruise were the only problem. Perhaps a pad to hold the blood. All these bandages, with the stick, are to keep the ends of the break from moving. If they move they won’t heal, or won’t heal right. Let them stay where they are, and don’t assume they’ve healed because the pain is not as bad as it was. What’s the moon, Mani?”

“Almost gone.”

I nodded. “Let it go, Toug. Let it come back and go again. Then we’ll see.” There was moonlight in the eyes of the strange woman Etela called Mama; I wondered what those eyes would be like when the moon was full, and found myself hoping I would never see them by moonlight.

Etela said, “He can’t fight, can he? They’re going to come in here after us, but Toug can’t fight them.”

“He can fight,” I said carefully. “He simply can’t fight with his left arm. He can’t hold a shield, or fight with a big sword like the one he used today. He’s a knight, save for being knighted, and knights often fight in spite of their wounds. Toug could do that.”

Almost imperceptibly, Toug shook his head.

“If you and your Mama were threatened. He may think he wouldn’t. When the swords were out, it would be different.” To my surprise, Gylf licked Toug’s hand.

“They know the king’s dead,” Etela continued hopelessly, “‘n they’ll come, too many to fight. Too many for anybody. ‘N we’ll scream ‘n run ‘n hide. Only they’ll find us, one ‘n then ‘nother one, ‘n kill us.”

Toug raised his head. “Too many for Sir Svon and Sir Garvaon and me, Etela. Maybe too many for Schildstarr, too. But not too many for Sir Able. You’ll see.”

“Well said!” Mani declared.

“But I wish Baki was here.” Toug’s voice had dropped. “There’s something I’ve got to tell her.”

I stepped back. “It’s a good thing she’s not. You may want to think your declaration over before you make it.”

“No, I know what I’m going to say. I just want to say it. I want to say you’ve got to stay here, stay with us. Baki wants you to go off someplace and fight somebody.”

“Aelfrice.” I supplied the words. “Garsecg.”

“But you’re here, and we need you. If you’re not here we’ll all die.”

“You’re both wrong.” I seated myself on the rung of a chair. “You take too dark a view, and so does this girl.”

“Etela, sir.”

I nodded and smiled at her. “Etela. I don’t blame either of you, but you’re wrong just the same.”

Speaking for the first time, the strange woman said, “I will not run or hide.”

“Correct.” I nodded. “You were slaves here before. Why shouldn’t you be slaves again? The Angrborn would kill Sir Garvaon, Sir Svon, and me—if they could. They might kill our men-at-arms and archers, too, or most of them. They might even kill Toug, Sir Garvaon’s squire, Lord Thiazi and Lord Beel. But why kill slaves? Slaves are loot, not foes.”

“Nor am I a foe,” Mani remarked, “or at least they won’t think so. Do you think they’ll kill Queen Idnn?”

I shook my head.

“Neither do I.” Mani considered, his sleek head to one side. “I’ll do what I can for her, and I feel sure she’ll do what she can for me. We’ll come through all right. She’ll want to save her father, too, and perhaps we can.”

I grinned at him, then at Etela. “So you see, Toug, Gylf, and I are the only ones present who’re in real danger, and only Gylf and I are in much.”

Gylf’s growl was loud and very deep.

“He says they are in danger from him,” I interpreted, “and no doubt he’s right.”

“Is it all right if I pet him?” Etela asked.

“Unless he moves his head away.”

Gylf did not.

“Let’s get to the other things you and Toug said. Toug wants to notify Baki that he’ll no longer honor his promise to persuade me to go to Aelfrice. He feels I’m needed here to protect you and your Mama.”

“And me,” Toug said.

I ignored it. “He’s wrong, because there’s no reason for him to sully his honor. I won’t go to Aelfrice or anyplace else as long as you need me. You have my word.”

Etela smiled and thanked me, but neither her mother nor Toug gave any indication of having heard.

“I want to go to Aelfrice, I’m—”