Gene Wolfe - The Knight

“Of course not. I know you won’t take my information seriously, but no, he isn’t.”

I just stared at him.

“You want to know how I know,” Mani continued. “Well, I know the same way you ought to yourself. I know because I know your dog. Better than you do, obviously. You sent him to find this Pouk?”

“Yes. You were there.”

“So was Sir Garvaon, so you two didn’t talk. But if you sent that dog to hunt Pouk, he’ll hunt Pouk ’til you tell him not to. Or until he loses the trail completely and has to slink back and report his failure.”

Uns caught up with us soon after that; and I took the saddle from him, put it on the lame stallion, and mounted. Mani had jumped onto the saddlebow while I was tightening the cinch.

“You need a rest,” I told Uns. “I’m going to join Lord Beel and his daughter, and Sir Garvaon, in the pass. After that, we’ll come back down. I want you to wait for us right here.”

Uns shook his head stubbornly. “My place’s wid you, Sar Able. Be long quick’s I kin.”

“As you like,” I told him, and touched my heels to the stallion’s sides.

He made off at a limping trot; and when Uns was no longer in sight, I said, “I suppose you think I’m mean.”

“Well, he is crippled,” Mani conceded, “but I have a firm policy. Never feel sorry for birds, mice, or squirrels. Or for men, women, or children save for a few close friends.”

“It’s because he’s crippled that I treat him as harshly as I do,” I explained. “He could have gone on living with his mother, and done little or no work, and his brother would have continued to take care of him when she was gone. That was why he left.”

“I know the feeling,” Mani said. “Every so often you want to get outside and hunt for yourself.”

“Exactly.” We were nearly at the pass, and I slowed the stallion to a walk. “He wants to be useful—to do real work, and sweat and strain and share his master’s fortunes.”

Mani remained silent.

“I’ve made myself a knight. That’s high up for a poor kid that lost his folks early. Uns is scared he may never have a spot at all. I’m trying to show him that he’s got one—that somebody wants him around for what he can do, and not just because they feel sorry for him.”

“Over here, Sir Able!” It was Beel’s servingman. “His Lordship is waiting for you.”

I neck-reined the limping white stallion, who picked his way reluctandy among the rocks.

“Were you speaking to me before I hailed you, Sir Able? If so, I couldn’t hear you. I apologize for it most humbly, Sir Able.”

“No. I was talking to my cat. You have nothing to apologize for as far as I know.”

“Thank you, Sir Able. That is most gracious of you. They’re over there, Sir Able, by the rill. Perhaps you see the horses.”

I nodded. “His Lordship didn’t want to camp where Pouk had, I take it.”

“Pouk is the gentleman—?”

“He’s my servant.” I had to touch the white stallion with my spurs. “He camped here to wait for me.”

“Ah. I see, Sir Able. His Lordship felt it might not be wise for us to cook and sleep and—and to live, so to speak, Sir Able, in the area in which he had his vision.”

Very softly and politely the servingman cleared his throat. “I myself was not privileged to witness it, Sir Able. From what His Lordship and Her Ladyship have said in my hearing, it was most impressive.”

“It was,” I agreed.

The servingman’s voice fell. “His Lordship is eager to consult you concerning it, Sir Able. You may wish to prepare your mind.”

Beel was seated on a stone, as I could see by then. He seemed to be deep in some discussion with Idnn, seated upon another, and with Garvaon, who stood behind her holding the reins of his horse.

A moment later Beel looked up, waved to me, and rose. “The horse I gave you was hurt in the fight last night. Sir Garvaon has told us. I wish I could give you another.”

I dismounted. “I wish you could, too, My Lord. There are few horses and mules left, though, and a lot of those that are left are in worse condition than mine. He has a bruise and it’s tender and sore, but I don’t think the bone’s broken.”

“You beat them, though.” Beel smiled.

“We didn’t, My Lord. We fought them. That’s the most that can be said. Our men—I mean Sir Garvaon’s, and yours—are proud of that.” I paused to let him talk, but he did not.

“It doesn’t hurt them,” I continued, “and may do good. But as for me, I don’t think it’s enough to have fought. I’d rather win.”

Idnn said, “You killed four. That’s what Sir Garvaon just told us.”

Beel added, “An amazing feat.”

“Two knights and twenty archers and men-at-arms—”

“Twenty-two,” Garvaon put in.

“Thanks.” I nodded. “So six of us for each we killed. We should have done much better than that.”

“That’s not fair!” Idnn exclaimed.

“Of course not, My Lady. This was a battle. Nothing was said about fair.”

“I mean you’re not being fair to Sir Garvaon and his men!” She looked angry.

Garvaon started to lay a hand on her shoulder, but did not. “Sir Able slew one single-handed.”

“Then he’s not even being fair to himself!”

Beel said, “Did you, Sir Able? If you did, you deserve much more than that stallion I gave you.”

“It was dark, My Lord. I couldn’t see how many of us were fighting him.”

“Did you see any others?”

“That isn’t the point. My Lord.”

“Answer my question, Sir Able. Were you aware of anyone besides yourself engaging the Angrborn you slew?”

“No, My Lord.”

“There isn’t a knight in Thortower who wouldn’t preen himself on such an exploit, Sir Able.” Beel looked toward Idnn and Garvaon for confirmation, and got it. “Yes, by Holy Skai! And paint one of the Angrborn on his shield, too, with frost on his beard and a club in his hand.”

“Then I’m glad I’m not a knight of Thortower, My Lord. As for my shield, Pouk has it. It’s plain green, and it will stay like that ’til I do something better than I’ve done so far.”

Idnn rose, her hands on her hips. “Listen to me.”

“I have before now,” I said, “and I’ll hear you gladly again.”

“Fine! You were both away when they came. The men-at-arms and archers had to fight without you, but they didn’t run like the servants did, they fought as well as they could. How long did it take you to get down there from here? An hour, I swear!”

“Less than that, My Lady.”

“An hour, and riding fit to break your necks, both of you. But you plunged in, horse and man, and you did all two men could do, fighting in the dark against giants as tall as that rock.”

“Not quite.” I sighed. “My Lady, I don’t want to argue with you.”

Beel chuckled. “But you will, Sir Able, just the same. Before you do, I have one question for you. I have asked it of Sir Garvaon already, and he has answered. Will you answer too, fully and fairly, this time without a bribe?”

“I didn’t ask for a bribe, My Lord.”

“Without setting conditions. Will you?”

“Yes, My Lord. If I can.”

“Did you fight horsed, or on foot? Horsed, I’d think, since your horse was injured.”

“On foot, mostly, Your Lordship. Mostly with my bow. May I ask why you want to know?”

Beel’s smile faded. “The day may come, Sir Able, when I have to lead a hundred knights against the Angrborn. I hope it doesn’t, and in fact I’m resolved to do everything in my power to ensure that it doesn’t. And yet, it may. I’ll try to lead them bravely, but it would be well to lead them wisely, too—if I can.”

Idnn said, “You knights care little whether you live or die. We have to care more than you yourselves do. I said we, but I mean men like my father and my brother.”