Gene Wolfe - The Wizard

I nodded, and she caressed Cloud’s muzzle very gently, as all who know horses do.

Uns brought my saddlebags; I told him I would leave them with him, since we would be returning in an hour or two. They cannot have weighed as much as Idnn, but they must have come near it, and I left my lance with Uns as well.

“If Your Majesty will do me the honor...” I knelt with linked hands to help her. She did, but sprang up so lightly that I doubt she required the least assistance.

Having mounted first, she sat before me. I would guess she had planned it, wishing me to ride as I did, with the perfume of her hair in my nostrils, embracing her when Cloud mounted that steep of air none but she could see.

Might I have had her? Few men know less of human women than I do, and it may be she only wished for me to want to. She did not speak until the steep ended and we galloped at a level, with Gylf running ahead and wood and plain unrolling beneath us. Then she said, “Oh, this is grand!” and breathed again, as my sword arm told me.

Of all the times I rode above Mythgarthr, I recall that one best: the unnatural warmth of the wind, and the glooming towers of the snow clouds to the west. Lesser clouds with the moon behind them, filling Skai with silvery light. A queen before me, and the Valfather’s castle floating among the stars. Idnn’s black velvet gown, her diamond diadem and perfumed hair. The soft pliancy of her waist, which made me desire her so much I took my arm away.

“Why do you ride to Utgard, Sir Able?”

“I won’t, Your Majesty, unless it happens so. We’re retracing the War Way in search of our pursuers.”

“Shouldn’t we have seen them by now?” She pointed. “On the horizon—those are the battlements of Utgard, surely.”

I agreed, and urged Cloud forward.

Soon the wind grew chill. Idnn drew her cloak about her, and Gylf stopped panting. Twice we circled Utgard; a few lonely lights still shone, but we rode so high that no one there could have seen us. A little snow fell, and Idnn shivered and begged me to hold her again. I did, and drew my cloak around us both.

“We thought our velvet too warm all day, and too warm even by night, but wore it for its mourning color. Now—Why is your dog leaving us?”

Gylf’s deep-throated bay had reached us, borne on the still air. “He’s scented something,” I explained, and sent Cloud after him.

“From way up here?” Idnn sounded incredulous. “He can’t possibly sniff the ground!”

“I don’t know what is possible to him, Your Majesty. But you’ve hunted deer and the like. Haven’t you ever seen your hounds course with their heads high?”

“On a hot trail? Yes. Yes, often.”

“That’s because the scent is in the air. It’s not a man’s feet that leave the scent. If they did, the best dog in Mythgarthr couldn’t track a man in new boots. It comes from the groin and under the arms, mostly. Some settles, and some hangs in the air and blows away or drifts, which is why even the best hounds put nose to the ground on a cold trail.”

“He’s lower than we are, but not much.”

“Because he has to go no lower to catch the scent. I doubt that he’s following one man, or even two or three.”

“They didn’t go by the War Way.”

“No,” I said, and it was my turn to point. “See that lighter streak? That was the road they followed, I think.”

“Then they can have nothing to do with us.”

I shrugged; she could not have seen it, but perhaps she felt it. “We’re not camped by the War Way, Your Majesty.”

“No. In the place Hela told us about.” Idnn was silent a moment. “We see what you mean.”

“I meant no more than I said.”

“There they are! Look under the trees.”

Far ahead Gylf had halted, and it seemed to me that he was looking at me. I shook my head, hoping he could see it.

“Are we going back now?”

“As soon as I get a closer look.”

“You’d like to fight, wouldn’t you? You’d surprise them while they slept, if we weren’t here.”

It was true, but I denied it.

“But we—we’re glad we are. They’re not our subjects, really. They won’t obey us. But they were his, and we...”

“You’re their queen, whether they’ll obey you or not.”

“Yes.” She sounded grateful.

“We can wake up a few and tell them so, Your Majesty. It’ll be dangerous, but I’ll do it if you want me to.”

She sighed. “They will only say that they serve King Schildstarr. No.”

“I think you’re wise. The time may come, but this isn’t it.” I whistled for Gylf, and we rode away.

“Did you count them?”

Reminded of Sir Ravd, I shook my head.

“We did, more than two score. There were probably more among the trees we didn’t see.”

I said, “We won’t fight them unless we have to.”

“You and Sir Svon and Sir Garvaon.”

“Yes. Your father, too, and His Grace. Sir Woddet and Sir Leort, with the archers and men-at-arms. Also Heimir and Hela, and the servants.”

“Against four score Angrborn?”

“Against whatever number we face. Gylf too. Gylf’s worth a hundred good men, Your Majesty.”

“We want you to promise us something, Sir Able. We want you to promise you’ll let us talk to them first. Will you?”

“I will, Your Majesty.” I felt my heart sink, although I knew that she was right.

“As you’ve helped us, we will help you. You’re not the only one to give a pledge to the Wanderer. Remember what we told you about Hela?”

“That she’d bring your subjects to do homage? Yes, Your Majesty. I haven’t forgotten that.”

“That the women are still my subjects. What you told me of the giants in Skai did nothing to allay my fears.”

I knew I could have said more and frightened her worse.

“Would Hela do it if she thought they might harm me?”

I laughed to think she expected me to fathom a woman’s heart. “I can’t say. I’ll stand by if you want.”

She shook her head. “If they are ours, we are theirs, and we must trust them.”

Then I wished we were not in the saddle, so that I could kneel to her.

The unnatural warmth had left us, and the air lay so thick with freezing fog that I could not see my outstretched hand. Vil came, found wood for us, and rekindled the fire. Pouk asked whether he should saddle Cloud; I told him no, to wait until the fog lifted.

Marder and Beel came. I offered the same advice, and they agreed; Beel said he thought the fog more than natural, to which I said nothing.

Marder said, “You don’t think so, Sir Able? Tell us.”

“I consider the fog wholly natural.”

Beel shook his head. “You know more of wizardry—”

“No, My Lord.”

“Than I, but I can’t agree. Thiazi’s magic has created it. I’ve tried to counter it. I admit I’ve had no success.”

Marder tugged his beard. “I don’t know you as well as I want to, but I know you well enough to feel sure you have a reason for saying what you do. What is it?”

“I rode back to Utgard late last night, Your Grace.”

He nodded. “Her Majesty told us.”

“There was no fog, but there were a few lights high in the keep, and one a bit lower. We liked the warm weather.” Recalling Hela and Heimir, I added, “Or most of us did. But the warmth we liked too much to question was Thiazi’s work, I would say. After Her Majesty and I returned, he ceased his effort and winter closed its jaws on us again.”

Marder nodded. “Chilling the air. That would do it.”

Beel nodded too, I think mostly to himself. “No wonder I couldn’t counter him. He wasn’t doing anything.”

“Can you raise a wind?” Marder asked.