Лайон Спрэг Де Камп Array - The Incomplete Enchanter

«My very gracious lord,» he said, «I crave your pardon. But a most strange malady has befallen the wine, and it’s turned sour. All the wine in Castle Caultrock. The good Fray Montelus has pronounced an exorcism over it, but to no purpose. There must be a powerful enchantment on it.»

«What?» shouted Sir Erivan. «By the seven thousand demons of Gehenna, do you expect us to drink water ? And then, shrugging his shoulders, he turned towards Chalmers.»

«You see how it is reverend sir. Daily we knights of Faerie are compassed closer about by these evil spells till we know not what to do. I misdoubt me they will make trouble at the tournament.»

«What tournament?» asked Shea.

«The tournament of Satyrane, the woodland knight, at his forest castle, three days hence. It will be a most proud and joyous occasion. There’s to be jousting, ending with a mélée, for the prize among knights and also a tourney of beauty for the ladies after. I’ve heard that the prize of beauty is to be that famous girdle of the Lady Florimel, which none but the most chaste may bind on.»

«Oh, how you frighten me!» said Amoret. «I was kidnapped from a tournament, you know. Now I shall hardly dare attend this one, if there will be enchanters present. Just think, one might win the prize of valour and I be awarded to him of right!»

« I shall be in the lists for you,» said Britomart, a trifle haughtily.

Shea asked: «Does the winner of the men’s prize get the winner of the prize of beauty?»

Sir Erivan looked at him in some astonishment. «You are pleased to jest — No. I see you are really a foreigner and don’t know. Well, then, such is the custom of Faerie. But I misdoubt me these enchanters and their spells.» He shook his head gloomily.

Shea said: «Say, my friend Chalmers and I might be able to help you out a little.»

«In what manner?»

Chalmers was making frantic efforts to signal him to silence, but Shea ignored them. «We know a little magic of our own. Pure white magic, like that Lady Cambina you spoke of. For instance — Doc, think you could do something about the wine situation?»

«Why. ahem. that is. I suppose I might, Harold. But don’t you think —»

Shea did not wait for the objection. «If you’ll be patient,» he said, «my friend the palmer will work some of his magic. What’ll you need, Doc?»

Chalmers’ brow furrowed. «A gallon of so of water, yes. Perhaps a few drops of good wine. Some grapes and bay leaves —»

Somebody interrupted: «As well ask for the moon in a basket as grapes at Caultrock. Last week came a swarm of birds and stripped the vines bare. Enchanter’s work, by hap; they do not love us here.»

«Dear me! Would there be a cask?»

«Aye, marry, a mort o’ ’em. Rudiger, an empty cask!»

The cask was rolled down the centre of the tables. The guests buzzed as they saw the preparations. Other articles were asked and refused till there was produced a stock of cubes of crystallized honey, crude and unstandardized in shape «— but they’ll do as sugar cubes, lacking anything better,» Chalmers told Shea.

A piece of charcoal served Chalmers for a pencil. On each of the lumps of crystallized honey he marked a letter, O, C, or H. A little fire was got going on the stone floor in the centre of the tables. Chalmers dissolved some of the honey in some of the water, put the water in the cask and some of straw in the water. The remaining lumps of honey he stirred about the table top with his fingers, as though playing some private game of anagrams, reciting meanwhile:

«So oft as I with state of present time

The image of our. uh. happiness compare,

So oft I find how less we are than prime,

How less our joy than that we once did share:

Thus do I ask those things that once we had

To make an evening run its wonted course,

And banish from this company the sad

Thoughts that in utter abstinence have their source:

Change then! For, being water, you cannot be worse!»

As he spoke, he withdrew a few of the lumps, arranging them thus:

H H

H C O O H

H H

«By the splendour of Heaven!» cried a knight with a short beard, who had risen and was peering into the cask. «The palmer’s done it!»

Chalmers reached over and pulled the straw from the top of the cask, dipped some of the liquid into his goblet and sipped. «God bless my soul!» he murmured.

«What is it, Doc?» asked Shea.

«Try it,» said Chalmers, passing him the goblet. Shea tried it and for the second time that evening almost upset the table.

The liquid was the best Scotch whisky he had ever tasted.

The thirsty Sir Erivan spoke up: «Is aught amiss with your spell-wrought wine?»

«Nothing,» said Chalmers, «except that it’s rather. uh. potent.»

«May one sample it, Sir Palmer?»

«Go easy on it.» said Shea, passing down the goblet. Sir Erivan went easy, but nevertheless exploded into a series of coughs. « Whee! A beverage for the gods on Olympus! None but they would have gullets of the proper temper. Yet methinks I should like more.»

Shea diluted the next slug of whisky with water before giving it to the serving man to pass down the table. The knight with the short beard made a face at the flavour. «This tastes like no wine I wot of,» said he.

«Most true,» said Erivan, «but ’tis proper nectar, and makes one feel wonnnnnnderful! More, I pray you!»

«May I have some, please?» asked Amoret, timidly. Chalmers looked unhappy. Britomart intervened: «Before you sample strange waters I myself will try.» She picked up the goblet she was sharing with Shea, took a long, quick drink.

Her eyes goggled and watered, but she held it well. «Too strong for my little charge,» said she when she got her breath hack

«But, Lady Britomart —»

«Nay. It would not — Nay, I say.»

* * *

The servitors were busy handing out the Scotch which left a trail of louder talk and funnier jokes in its wake. Down the table some of the people were dancing; the kind of dance wherein you spend your time holding up your partner’s hand and bowing. Shea had just enough whisky in him to uncork his natural recklessness. He bowed half-mockingly to Britomart. «Would my lady care to dance?»

«No,» she said solemnly. «I do it not. So many responsibilities have I had that I’ve never learned. Another drink, please.»

«Oh, come on! I don’t, either, the way they do here. But we can try.»

«No,» she said. «Poor Britomart never indulges in the lighter pleasures. Always busy, righting wrongs and setting a good example of chastity. Not that anyone heeds it.»

Shea saw Chalmers slip Amoret a shot of whisky. The perfect beauty coughed it down. Then she began talking very fast about the sacrifices she had made to keep herself pure for her husband. Chalmers began looking around for help. Serves the Doc right, thought Shea. Britomart was pulling his sleeve.

«It’s a shame,» she sighed. «They all say Britomart needs no man’s sympathy. She’s the girl who can take care of herself.»

«Is it as bad as all that?»

«Mush worst. I mean much worse. They all say Britomart has no sense of humour. That’s because I do my duty. Conscientious. That’s the trouble. You think I have a sense of humour, don’t you, Master Harold de Shea?» She looked at him accusingly.

Shea privately thought that «they all» were right. But he answered: «Of course I do.»

«That’s splendid. It gladdens my heart to find someone who understands. I Like you, Master Harold. You’re tall, not like these little pigs of men around here. Tell me, you don’t think I’m too tall, do you? You wouldn’t say I was just a big blond horse?»

«Perish the thought!»