now with barbarous additions. Heming Faz, good lack! lording it now in
Demonland.
“The prime huff-cap of all,” said she after a little, “holdeth aback
it seemeth. O here he comes. Sweet heaven, what furious horsemanship!
Troth, and he can sit a horse, Ravnor, and hath the great figure of
an athlete. Look where he gallopeth bare-headed down the line. I ween
he’ll need more than golden curls to keep his head whole ere he have
done with Gaslark, ay, and our own folk gathering from the north. I
see he beareth his helm at the saddle-bow. To ape us so!” she cried as
he drew nearer. “All silks and silver. Thou’dst have sworn none but a
Demon went to battle so costly apparelled. O, for a scissors to cut his
comb withal!”
So speaking she leaned forward all she might, to watch him. And he,
galloping by below, looked up; and marking her so watching, reined
mightily his great chestnut horse, throwing him with the check well
nigh on his haunches. And while the horse plunged and reared, Corinius
hailed her in a great voice, crying, “Mistress, good-morrow!” crying,
“Wish me victory, and swift to thine arms!”
So near below was he a-riding, she might scan the very lineaments of
his face and read it as he looked up and shouted to her that greeting.
He saluted with his sword, and spurred onward to overtake Gro and Laxus
in the van.
As if sickened on a sudden, or as if she had been ready to tread on a
deadly stinging adder, the Lady Mevrian leaned against the marble of
the battlements. Ravnor stepped towards her: “Is your ladyship ill?
Why, what’s the matter?”
“A silly qualm,” said Mevrian faintly. “If thou’dst medicine it, show
me the sheen of Spitfire’s spears to the northward. The blank land
dazzles me.”
• • • • •
So wore the afternoon. Twice and thrice Mevrian went upon the
walls, but could see nought save the sea and the firths and the
mountain-bosomed plain fair and peaceful in the spring-time: no sign
of men or of war’s alarums, save only the masts of Gaslark’s ships
seen over the land’s brow three miles or more to the south-west. Yet
she knew surely that near those ships beside Aurwath harbour must be
desperate fighting toward, Gaslark the king engaged at heavy odds
against Laxus and Corinius and the spears of Witchland. And the sun
wheeled low over the dark pines of Westmark, and still no sign from the
north.
“Thou didst send one forth for tidings?” she said to Ravnor, the third
time she went on the wall.
He answered, “Betimes this morning, your highness. But ’tis slow faring
until a be a mile or twain clear of the castle, for a must elude their
small bands that go up and down guarding the countryside.”
“Bring him to me o’ the instant of his return,” said she.
With a foot on the stair, she turned back. “Ravnor,” she said.
He came to her.
“Thou,” she said, “hast been years enow my brother’s steward in
Krothering, and our father’s before him, to know what mind and spirit
dwelleth in them of our line. Tell me, truly and sadly, what thou
makest of this. Lord Spitfire is too late: other else, Goblinland too
sudden-early (and that was his fault from of old). What seest thou in
it? Speak to me as thou shouldst to my Lord Brandoch Daha were it he
that asked thee.”
“Highness,” said the old man Ravnor, “I will answer you my very
thought: and it is, woe to Goblinland. Since my Lord Spitfire cometh
not yet from the north, only the deathless Gods descending out of
heaven can save the king. The Witches number at an humble reckoning
twice his strength; and man to man you were as well pit a hound against
a bear, as against Witches Goblins. For all that these be fierce and
full of fiery courage, the bear hath it at the last.”
Mevrian listened, looking on him with sorrowful steady eyes. “And he
so generous-noble flown to comfort Demonland in the blackness of her
days,” she said at last. “Can fate be so ungallant? O Ravnor, the shame
of it! First La Fireez, now Gaslark. How shall any love us any more?
The shame of it, Ravnor!”
“I would not have your highness,” said Ravnor, “too hasty to blame us.
If their plan and compact have gone amiss, ’tis likelier King Gaslark’s
misprision than Lord Spitfire’s. We know not for sure which day was set
for this landing.”
While he so spake, he was looking past her seaward, a little south of
the reddest part of the sunset. His eyes widened. He touched her arm
and pointed. Sails were hoisted among the masts at Aurwath. Smoke, as
of burning, reeked up against the sky. As they watched, the most part
of the ships moved out to sea. From those that remained, some five or
six, fire leaped and black clouds of smoke. The rest as they came out
of the lee of the land, made southward for the open sea under oar and
sail.
Neither spake; and the Lady Mevrian leaning her elbows on the parapet
of the wall hid her face in her hands.
• • • • •
Now came Ravnor’s messenger at length back from his faring, and the
old man brought him in to Mevrian in her bower in the south part of
Krothering. The messenger said, “Highness, I bring no writing, since
that were too perilous had I fallen in my way among Witches. But I
had audience of my Lord Spitfire and my Lord Zigg in the gates of
Gashterndale. And thus their lordships commanded me deliver it unto
you, that your highness should be at ease and secure, seeing that they
do in such sort hold all the ways to Krothering, that the Witchland
army cannot escape out of this countryside that is betwixt Thunderfirth
and Stropardon Firth and the sea, but and if they will give battle unto
their lordships. But if they choose rather to abide here by Krothering,
then may our armies close on them and oppress them, since our forces do
exceed theirs by near a thousand spears. Which to-morrow will be done
whate’er betide, since that is the day appointed for Gaslark the king
to land with a force at Aurwath.”
Mevrian said, “They know nought then of this direful miscarriage, and
Gaslark here already before his time and thrown back into the sea?” And
she said, “We must apprise them on’t, and that hastily and to-night.”
When the man understood this, he answered, “Ten minutes for a bite and
a stirrup-cup, and I am at your ladyship’s service.”
And in a short while, that man went forth again secretly out of
Krothering in the dusk of night to bring word to Lord Spitfire of what
was befallen. And the watchmen watching in the night from Krothering
walls beheld northward under Erngate End the camp-fires of the Witches
like the stars.
• • • • •
Night passed and day dawned, and the camp of the Witches showed empty
as an empty shell.
Mevrian said, “They have moved in the night.”
“Then shall your highness hear great tidings ere long,” said Ravnor.
“’Tis like we may have guests in Krothering to-night,” said Mevrian.
And she gave order for all to be made ready against their coming, and
the choicest bed-chambers for Spitfire and Zigg to welcome them. So,
with busy preparations, the day went by. But as evening came, and still
no riding from the north, some shadows of impatience and anxious doubt
crept with night’s shades creeping across heaven across their eager
expectancy in Krothering. For Mevrian’s messenger returned not. Late to
rest went the Lady Mevrian; and with the first peeping light she was
abroad, muffled in her great mantle of velvet and swansdown against the
eager winds of morning. Up to the battlements she went, and with old
Ravnor searched the blank prospect. For pale morning rose on an empty
landscape; and so all day until the evening: watching, and waiting, and
questioning in their hearts.
So went they at length to supper on this third night after Aurwath
field. And ere supper was half done was a stir in the outer courts, and
the rattle of the bridge let down, and a clatter of horse-hooves on
the bridge and the jasper pavements. Mevrian sate erect and expectant.
She nodded to Ravnor who wanting no further sign went hastily out, and
returned in an instant hastily and with heavy brow. He spake in her
ear, “News, my Lady. It were well you bade him to private audience.
Drink this cup first,” pouring out some wine for her.
She rose up, saying to the steward, “Come thou, and bring him with
thee.”
As they went he whispered her, “Astar of Rettray, sent by the Lord Zigg
with matter of urgent import for your highness’s ear.”
The Lady Mevrian sat in her ivory chair cushioned with rich stuffed
silks of Beshtria, with little golden birds and strawberry leaves with
the flowers and rich red fruits all figured thereon in gorgeous colours
of needlework. She reached out her hand to Astar who stood before her
in his battle harness, muddy and bebloodied from head to foot. He bowed
and kissed her hand: then stood silent. He held his head high and
looked her in the face, but his eyes were bloodshed and his look was
ghastly like a messenger of ill.
“Sir,” said Mevrian, “stand not in doubt, but declare all. Thou knowest
it is not in our blood to quail under dangers and misfortune.”
Astar said, “Zigg, my brother-in-law, gave me this in charge, madam, to
tell thee all truly.”
“Proceed,” said she. “Thou knowest our last news. Hour by hour since
then, we watched on victory. I have no mean welcome feast prepared
against your coming.”
Astar groaned. “My Lady Mevrian,” said he, “you must now prepare a
sword, not a banquet. You did send a runner to Lord Spitfire.”
“Ay,” said she.
“He brought us advertisement that night,” said Astar, “of Gaslark’s
overthrow. Alas, that Goblinland was a day too soon, and so bare alone
the brunt. Yet was vengeance ready to our hand, as we supposed. For
every pass and way was guarded, and ours the greater force. So for
that night we waited, seeing Corinius’s fires alight in his camp on
Krothering Side, meaning to smite him at dawn of day. Now in the night
were mists abroad, and the moon early sunken. And true it is as ill it
is, that the whole Witchland army marched away past us in the dark.”
“What?” cried Mevrian, “and slept ye all to let them by?”
“In the middle night,” answered he, “we had sure tidings he was afoot,
and the fires yet burning in his camp a show to mock us withal. By all
sure signs, we might know he was broke forth north-westward, where he
must take the upper road into Mealand over Brocksty Hause. Zigg with
seven hundred horse galloped to Heathby to head him off, whiles our
main force fared their swiftest up Little Ravendale. Thou seest, madam,
Corinius must march along the bow and we along the bowstring.”
“Yes,” said Mevrian. “Ye had but to check him with the horse at
Heathby, and he must fight or fall back toward Justdale where he was
like to lose half his folk in Memmery Moss. Outlanders shall scarce
find a firm way there in a dark night.”
“Certain it is we should have had him,” said Astar. “Yet certain it is
he doubled like a hare and fooled us all to the top of our bent: turned
in his tracks, as later we concluded, somewhere by Goosesand, and with
all his army slipped back eastward under our rear. And that was the
wonderfullest feat heard tell of in all chronicles of war.”
“Tush, noble Astar,” said Mevrian. “Labour not Witchland’s praises, nor
imagine not I’ll deem less of Spitfire’s nor Zigg’s generalship because
Corinius, by art or fortune’s favour, dodged ’em in the dark.”
“Dear Lady,” said he, “even look for the worst and prepare yourself for
the same.”
Her gray eyes steadily beheld him. “Certain intelligence,” said he,
“was brought us of their faring with all speed they might eastaway past
Switchwater; and ere the sun looked well over Gemsar Edge we were hot
on the track of them, knowing our force the stronger and our only hope
to bring them to battle ere they reached the Stile, where they have
made a fortress of great strength we might scarce hope to howster them
out from if they should win thither.”
He paused. “Well,” said she.
“Madam,” he said, “that we of Demonland are great and invincible in
war, ’tis most certain. But in these days fight we as a man that
fighteth hobbled, or with half his gear laid by, or as a man half
roused from sleep. For we be reft of our greatest. Bereft of these,
such sorrows befall us and such doom as at Thremnir’s Heugh last autumn
shattered our strength in pieces, and now this very day yet more
terribly hath put us down on Switchwater Way.”
Mevrian’s cheek turned white, but she said no word, waiting.
“We were eager in the chase,” said Astar. “I have told thee why,
madam. Thou knowest how near to the mountains runneth the road past
Switchwater, and the shores of the lake hem in the way for miles
against the mountain spurs, and woods clothe the lower slopes, and
dells and gorges run up betwixt the spurs into the mountain side. The
day was misty, and the mists hung by the shores of Switchwater. When
we had marched so far that our van was about over against the stead of
Highbank that stands on the farther shore, the battle began: greatly to
their advantage, since Corinius had placed strong forces in the hills
on our right flank, and so ambushed us and took us at unawares. Not to
grieve thee with a woful tale, madam, we were most bloodily overthrown,
and our army merely brought to not-being. And in the mid rout, Zigg
stole an instant to charge me by my love for him ride to Krothering as
if my life lay on it and the weal of all of us, and bid you fly hence
to Westmark or the isles or whither you will, ere the Witches come
again and here entrap you. Since save for these walls and these few
brave soldiers you have to ward them, no help standeth any more ’twixt
you and these devilish Witches.”
Still she was silent. He said, “Let me not be too hateful to you, most
gracious Lady, for this rude tale of disaster. The suddenness of the
times bar any pleasant glozing. And indeed I thought I should satisfy
you more with plainness, than should opinion of I know not what false
courtliness bind me to show you comfort where comfort is not.”
The Lady Mevrian stood up and took him by both hands. Surely the light
of that lady’s eyes was like the new light of morning glancing through
mists on the gray still surface of a mountain tarn, and the accent of
her voice sweet as the voices of the morning as she said, “O Astar,
think me not so unhandsome, nor yet so foolish. Thanks, gentle Astar.
But thou hast not supped, and sure in a great soldier battle and swift
far riding should breed hunger, how ill soever the news he beareth. Thy
welcome shall not be the colder because we looked for more than thee,
alas, and for far other tidings. A chamber is prepared for thee. Eat
and drink; and when night is done is time enough to speak more of these
things.”
“Madam,” he said, “you must come now or ’tis too late.”
But she answered him, “No, noble Astar. This is my brother’s house.
So long as I may keep it for him against his coming home I will not
creep out of Krothering like a rat, but stand to my watch. And this is
certain, I shall not open Krothering gates to Witches whiles I and my
folk yet live to bar them against them.”
• • • • •
So she made him go to supper; but herself sat late that night alone in
the Chamber of the Moon, that was in the donjon keep above the inner
court in Krothering. This was Lord Brandoch Daha’s banquet chamber,
devised and furnished by him in years gone by; and here he and she
commonly sat at meat, using not the banquet hall across the court save
when great company was present. Round was that chamber, following the
round walls of the tower that held it. All the pillars and the walls
and the vaulted roof were of a strange stone, white and smooth, and
yielding such a glistering show of pallid gold in it as was like the
golden sheen of the full moon of a warm night in midsummer. Lamps that
were milky opals self-effulgent filled all the chamber with a soft
radiance, in which the bas-reliefs of the high dado, delicately carved,
portraying those immortal blooms of amaranth and nepenthe and moly and
Elysian asphodel, were seen in all their delicate beauty, and the fair
painted pictures of the Lord of Krothering and his lady sister, and
of Lord Juss above the great open fireplace with Goldry and Spitfire
on his left and right. A few other pictures there were, smaller than
these: the Princess Armelline of Goblinland, Zigg and his lady wife,
and others; wondrous beautiful.
Here a long while sat the Lady Mevrian. She had a little lute
wrought of sweet sandalwood and ivory inlaid with gems. While she sat
a-thinking, her fingers strayed idly on the strings, and she sang in a
low sweet voice:
There were three ravens sat on a tree,
They were as black as they might be.
_With a downe, derrie down._
The one of them said to his make,
Where shall we our breakefast take?
Downe in yonder greene field,
There lies a knight slain under his shield.
His hounds they lie downe at his feete,
So well they can their master keepe.
His haukes they flie so eagerly,
There’s no fowle dare him come nie.
Downe there comes a fallow doe
As great with yong as she might goe.
She lift up his bloudy hed,
And kist his wounds that were so red.
She gat him up upon her backe,
And carried him to earthen lake.
She buried him before the prime;
She was dead herselfe ere even-song time.
God send every gentleman
Such haukes, such hounds, and such a leman.
_With a downe, derrie down._
With the last sighing sweetness trembling from the strings, she laid
aside the lute, saying, “The discord of my thoughts, my lute, doth ill
agree with the harmonies of thy strings. Put it by.”
She fell to gazing on her brother’s picture, the Lord Brandoch Daha,
standing in his jewelled hauberk laced about with gold, his hand upon
his sword. And that lazy laughter-loving yet imperious look of the
eyes which in life he had was there, wondrous lively caught by the
painter’s art, and the lovely lines of his brow and lip and jaw, where
power and masterful determination slumbered, as brazen Ares might
slumber in the arms of the Queen of Love.
A long while Mevrian looked on that picture, musing. Then, burying her
face in the cushions of the long low seat she sat on, she burst into a
great passion of tears.
XXIII: THE WEIRD BEGUN OF ISHNAIN NEMARTRA
OF THE COUNSEL TAKEN BY THE WITCHES TOUCHING THE CONDUCT OF THE
WAR: WHEREAFTER IN THE FIFTH ASSAULT THE CASTLE OF LORD
BRANDOCH DAHA WAS MADE A PREY UNTO CORINIUS.
Now was little time for debate or conjecture, but with the morrow’s
morn came the Witchland army once more before Krothering, and a herald
sent by Corinius to bid Mevrian yield up the castle and her own proper
person lest a worse thing befall them. Which she stoutly refusing,
Corinius let straight assault the castle, but won it not. And in the
next three days following he thrice assaulted Krothering, and, failing
with some loss of men to win an entry, closely invested it.
And now summoned he those other lords of Witchland to talk with him.
“How say ye? Or what rede shall we take? They be few only within to man
the walls; and great shame it is to us and to all Witchland if we get
not this hold taken, so many as we be here gone up against it, and so
great captains.”
Laxus said, “Thou art king in Demonland. Thine it is to take order what
shall be done. But if thou desire my rede, then shall I give it thee.”
“I desire each one of you,” said Corinius, “to show forth to me frankly
and freely his rede. And well ye know I strive for nought else but for
Witchland’s glory and to make firm our conquest here.”
“Well,” said Laxus, “I told thee once already my counsel, and thou wast
angry with me. Thou madest a mighty victory on Switchwater Way; which
had we followed up, pushing home the sword of our advantage till the
hilts came clap against the breastplate of our adversary, we might now
have exterminated from the land the whole nest of them, Spitfire, Zigg,
and Volle. But now are they gotten away the devil knows whither, for
the preparing of fresh thorns to prick our sides withal.”
Corinius said, “Claim not wisdom after the event, my lord. ’Twas not so
thou didst advise. Thou didst bid me let go Krothering: a thing I will
not do, once I have set mine hand to it.”
Laxus answered him, “Not only did I so advise thee as I have said, but
Heming was by, and will bear me out, that I did offer that he or I
with a small force should keep this comfit-box shut for thee till thou
shouldst have done the main business.”
“’Tis so,” said Heming.
But Corinius said, “’Tis not so, Heming. And were it so, ’tis easily
seen why he or thou shouldst hanker for first suck at this luscious
fruit. Yet not so easy to see why I should yield it you.”
“That,” said Laxus, “is very ill said. I see thy memory needs jogging,
and thou art sliding into ingratitude. How many such like fruits hast
thou enjoyed since we came out hither, that we had all the pains and
plucking of?”
“O cry thee mercy, my lord,” said Corinius, “I should have remembered,
dreams of Sriva’s moist lips keep thee from straying. But enough of
this fooling: to the matter.”
Lord Laxus flushed. “By my faith,” said he, “this is very much to the
matter. ’Twere well, Corinius, if thy loose thoughts were kept from
straying. Spend men on a fortress? Better assay Galing, then: that were
a prize worth more to our safety and our lordship here.”
“Ay,” said Heming. “Seek out the enemy. ’Tis therefore we came hither:
not to find women for thee.”
Thereupon the Lord Corinius struck him across the table a great buffet
in the face. Heming, mad wroth, snatched out a dagger; but Gro and
Laxus catching him one by either hand restrained him. Gro said, “My
lords, my lords, you must not word it so dangerous ill. We have but one
heart and mind here, to magnify our Lord the King and his glory. Thou,
Heming, forget not the King hath put authority in the hand of Corinius,
so that thy dagger set against him setteth most treasonably against the
King’s majesty. And thou, my lord, I pray be temperate in thy power.
Sure, for want of open war it is that our hands be so ready for these
private brawls.”
When by fair words this stew was cooled again, Corinius bade Gro say
forth his mind, what he thought lay next to do. Gro answered, “My lord,
I am of Laxus’s opinion. Abiding here by Krothering, we fare as idle
cooks toying with sweetmeats while the roast spoils. We should seek out
power and destroy it where still it fareth free, lest it swell again
to a growth may danger us: wheresoever these lords be fled, think not
they’ll be slack to prepare a mischief for us.”
“I see,” said Corinius, “ye be all three of an accord against me. But
there is no one beam of these thoughts your discourse hath planted in
me, but is able to discern a greater cloud than you do go in.”
“It is very true,” said Laxus, “that we do think somewhat scornfully of
this war against women.”
“Ay, there’s the cover off the dish!” said Corinius, “and a pretty
mess within. Y’are woman-mad, every jack of you, and this blears your
eyes to think me sick o’ the same folly. Thou and thy little dark-eyed
baggage, that I dare swear hath months ago forgot thee for another.
Heming here and I know not what sweet maid his young heart doteth on.
Gro, ha! ha!” and he fell a-laughing. “Wherefore the King saddled me
with this Goblin, he only knoweth, and his secretary the Devil: not
I. By Satan, thou hast a starved look i’ the eyes giveth me to think
the errand I sent thee to Krothering gates did thee no good. My cat’s
leering look showeth me that my cat goeth a catterwawing. Dost now find
the raven’s wing a seemlier hue in a wench’s hair to set thy cold blood
a-leaping than tawny red? Or dost think this one hath a softer breast
than thy Queen’s to cushion thy perfumed locks?”
With that word spoken, all three of them leaped from their seats. Gro,
with a face ashen gray, said, “At me thou mayst spit what filth thou
wilt. I am schooled to bear with it for Witchland’s sake and until
thine own venom choke thee. But this shalt thou not do whiles I live,
thou or any other: to let thy bawdy tongue meddle with Queen Prezmyra’s
name.”
Corinius sat still in his chair in a posture of studied ease, but
his sword was ready. His great jowl was set, his insolent blue eyes
scornfully looked from one to another of those lords where they stood
menacing him. “Pshaw!” said he, at last. “Who brought her name into it
but thyself, my Lord Gro? not I.”
“Thou wert best not bring it in again, Corinius,” said Heming. “Have we
not well followed thee and upheld thee? And so shall we do henceforth.
But remember, I am King Corund’s son. And if thou speak this wicked lie
again, it shall cost thee thy life if I may.”