Gene Wolfe - The Wizard

“Yes. Of course.”

“That should clear it off.” Marder stood up. “We’ll wait here until it’s gone, but we should be ready to leave as soon as we can see.”

Together they disappeared into the blank gray around us.

“I’ll be here forever if they mean it,” Vil whispered.

I asked about Toug.

“Better’n he was. You think them ladies Hela’s fetchin’ might help, Master? They knows herbs men don’t, sometimes.”

“I agree, and maybe they can. But how is it you know about Hela’s errand, Vil? Did she tell you?”

“No, sir.” His empty sockets stared into an obscurity no adept could lift. “I wasn’t, listenin’ in, I swear.”

“You would never do such a thing, I hope.”

“Well, I might. Only I didn’t. I was busy settin’ up for Master Toug. He’s mendin’ like I said, only he’s shamed, Master, to talk to you. He want’s to come ‘round, only he’s that shamed. He won’t hardly talk to Sir Svon, even.”

Pouk cleared his throat and spat. “I been tooken aback meself, Vil. Who ain’t? We might rag him now an’ then, I mean Uns an’ me might if we knew what ‘twas, which I don’t. Only we wouldn’t mean no harm. Would we, Uns?”

“I woun’t. Nosar! Him’s Squire Toug, Pouk.”

“If he won’t come to us,” I said, “we’ve got to go to him. But I doubt that it’s kidding he’s afraid of. Have you stolen while you were here with us, Truthful Vil?”

“No, sir!” Vil held up his hands. “Not nothin’, sir. I wouldn’t steal from you, Master. Ever. You can search me, or have your men here do it. Whatever way you choose.”

I smiled. “Much good that would do. If you’ve stolen and your conscience pains you, you’ve only to bring it back. You won’t be punished.”

“I wouldn’t never steal from you, Sir Able. You’ve my word on that.”

“Then go,” I said.

When Vil had gone, Uns asked what he had taken.

“I don’t know, but I could see Gylf didn’t trust him, and he knew about Hela’s errand.”

“Wot’s dat, Master?”

Pouk answered. “Gone to fetch ladies is what he said.”

I told them that I wanted my mail cleaned, and all the horse gear well washed with saddle soap, which put an end to their gossiping. When they were busy, I took Gylf aside and asked what Vil had taken; but he only said, “Don’t know,” and “Don’t see”—this last meaning, I think, that his world was the world of smells and sounds. He did not say, “Ears up,” as he often did, yet it seemed implied.

Svon came asking to speak to me privately. “There’s no privacy here,” I said, “less even than there is at night. We can’t tell when others may be listening.”

“Then promise you won’t repeat what I say.”

I refused.

“You are...” He seemed to find his words difficult. “The—greatest knight of us all.”

“I doubt it, but what of it?”

“It’s what everyone says. Sir Garvaon and Lord Beel, Sir Woddet and His Grace the Duke. Even Queen Idnn.”

“I thank the gracious Overcyns for Sir Leort.”

“Him too. I forgot him. I was your squire. Not for long, I know.”

“Long enough for a journey that seemed long to us.”

“I remember.” For a moment it appeared he would say no more than that. “I didn’t like you, and you didn’t like me.”

I agreed.

“You said once that you were the boy who threw my sword in the bushes. You can’t have been, but you said you were.”

“I am.”

“But you’re the greatest knight. In a month my leg will heal. Will you fight when it does? I mean to challenge you. I’d rather you fought gladly—that we engaged as friends.”

“I will,” I promised, “but not here in Jotunland.”

Svon rarely smiled, but he smiled then. “It’s settled. Good! Will you give me your hand?”

We clasped hands as friends should.

“Why wouldn’t you promise to keep my confidence?”

“Because I had no idea what you might say. Suppose you said you intended to betray us.”

“Or that I’d betrayed Sir Ravd, which is what everyone else says.” The smile vanished.

“That would trouble me less. But if I’d given my word that I’d keep your secret, I’d keep it. If it were that you meant to betray us to the Angrborn, I’d fight you now and kill you if I could. But I’d never reveal what you told me.”

Svon nodded slowly. “I understand. You really thought it might be something like that.”

“I feared it. I didn’t mean that your confidences, or anyone’s, will be served at dinner like venison. But you don’t have my word I won’t reveal them, nor will you get it.”

He seemed about to choke. “I love Idnn. Her Majesty.”

“Is that another confidence? I knew it already, and there can’t be many who don’t.”

“I think she—she...”

“She does, I’m sure.”

“But she’s a queen, and I—my father was a baron...”

“But you’re not, or at least not at present. This is why you want to fight me, isn’t it?”

“It’s part of it. Yes.”

“Would you like me to lose? To yield to you? After a considerable struggle, of course.”

“Certainly not!”

“What if I win?”

Svon held himself very straight. “I’ll live or die, like other vanquished knights. If I die—in a way I hope I will—it will be with Her Majesty’s favor on my helm.”

I congratulated him.

“Though I engage the greatest knight in Mythgarthr, I won’t be worthy of her. But I’ll be more nearly worthy. Sir Woddet fought you. So did Sir Leort, and His Grace.”

“You have given me part of your reason,” I said, “will you give me the rest?”

“Because you took my sword. It unmanned me and you thought me a coward, if that was really you.”

“It was.”

His hard, handsome face (made human by its broken nose) was entirely serious as he said, “Then I must prove myself.”

“You already have,” I told him.

He shook his head, and as if eager to talk of something else said, “This fog—isn’t it ever going to lift?”

I mentioned my concern for Toug, and Svon shrugged. I said, “If you could contrive some little errand and send him to me, I’d appreciate it.”

“Certainly. As soon as I get back. He despairs.”

Svon seemed to expect a comment, so I said, “I know.”

“Etela helps him more than I’ve been able to.”

“That’s natural.”

“Her mother, too. Lynnet. And Vil does what he can, showing him his tricks and getting him to describe what he saw, then showing him—sometimes—how the trick was done. He’ll get over it. Boys always do.”

I nodded, although I was not sure I agreed.

Svon turned to go. “I’ve been thinking...” He turned back. “I should tell you. All my life men have told me they were helped by this one or that one. No one ever helped me.”

“Sir Ravd tried.”

“Yes. But now someone has. You gave me the accolade—elevated me to knighthood. Were you really authorized to do it? By a ruler?”

“I was and I am.”

“By the queen you say knighted you? The queen of the Moss Aelf?”

I shook my head.

“I won’t ask any more. His Grace was surprised to find me a knight. At first he thought Lord Beel had done it. I told him it was you and expected all sorts of objections, but I was wrong. He just congratulated me. Then he asked if I’d given allegiance to you. I said I hadn’t, that I had given it to Lord Beel. You were there.”

I nodded again.

“It was very informal. I suppose we’ll do it over when we get back, if we do.”

I said we would, but that the ceremony would not take place. “Not because His Lordship will refuse, but because you’ll ask to be released. Yours will be another liege.”