with much show of jolly friendliness, “’twas but a jest; and, I freely
acknowledge, an ill jest. I’m sorry for it, my lords.
“And now,” said he, “come we again to the matter. Krothering Castle
will I not forgo, since ’tis not my way to turn back for any man on
earth, no not for the Gods almighty, once I have ta’en my course. But
I will make a bargain with you, and this it is: that we to-morrow do
assault the hold a last time, using all our men and all our might. And
if, as I think is most unlikely and most shameful, we get it not, then
shall we fare away and do according to thy counsel, O Laxus.”
“’Tis now four days lost,” said Laxus. “Thou canst not retrieve them.
Howso, be it as thou wilt.”
So brake up their council. But the mind and heart of the Lord Gro was
nought peaceful within him, but tumultuous with manifold imaginings
of hopes and fears and old desires, that intertwined like serpents
twisting and contending. So that nought was clear to him save the
unclear trouble of his discontent; and it was as if the conscience of a
secret grant his inward mind made had suddenly cast a vail betwixt his
thoughts and him that he durst not pluck aside.
• • • • •
Betimes on the morrow Corinius let fare against Krothering with all his
host, Laxus from the south, Heming and Cargo from the east against the
main gates, and himself from the west where the walls and towers showed
strongest but the natural strength of the place weaker than elsewhere.
Now they within were few, because of Mevrian’s sending of those two
hundred horse to follow Zigg and those came not back after Switchwater;
and as the day wore, and still the battle went forward, and still were
wounds given and taken, the odds swung yet heavier against them of
Demonland, and more and more must the castle hold of its own strength
only, for there were not whole men left enow to man the walls. And now
had Corinius well nigh won the castle, faring up on the walls west of
the donjon tower where he and his fell to clearing the battlements,
rushing on like wolves. But Astar of Rettray stayed him there with so
great a sword-stroke on the helm that he overthrew him all astonied
down without the wall and into the ditch; but his men drew him forth
and saved him. So was the Lord Corinius put out of the fight; but
greatly still he egged on his men. And about the fifth hour after noon
the sons of Corund gat the main gate.
Lady Mevrian bare in that hour with her own hand a stoup of wine to
Astar in a lull of the battle. While he drank, she said, “Astar, the
hour demandeth that I pledge thee to obedience, even as I pledged mine
own folk and Ravnor that here commandeth my garrison in Krothering.”
“My Lady Mevrian,” answered he, “under your safety, I shall obey you.”
She said, “No conditions, sir. Harken and know. First I will thank thee
and these valiant men that so mightily warded us and golden Krothering
against our enemies. This was my mind, to ward it unto the last,
because it is my dear brother’s house, and I count it unworthy Corinius
should stable his horses in our chambers, and carousing amid his
drunkards do hurt to our fair banquet hall. But now, by hard necessity
of disastrous war, hath this thing come to pass, and all fallen into
his hand save only this keep alone.”
“Alas, madam,” said he, “to our shame I may not deny it.”
“O trample out any thought of shame,” said she. “A score of them
against every one of us: the glory of our defence shall be for ever.
But now ’tis for me mainly he still beareth against Krothering so great
and peisant strokes as thick as rain falleth from the sky. And now must
ye obey me and do my commandment; else must we perish, for even this
tower we are not enough to hold against him many days.”
“Divine Lady,” said Astar, “but once shall one pass the cruel pass of
death. I and your folk will defend you unto that end.”
“Sir,” said she, standing like a queen before him, “I shall now defend
myself and our precious things in Krothering more certainly than ye men
of war may do.” And she showed him shortly that this was her design,
to yield up the keep unto Corinius under promise of a safe conduct for
Astar and Ravnor and all her men.
“And submit thee to this Corinius?” said Astar. But she answered, “Thy
sword hath likely cut his claws for awhile. I fear him not.”
Of all this would Astar at first have nought to do, and the old steward
withal was well nigh mutinous. But so firm of purpose was she, and
withal showed them so plainly that this was the only hope to save
herself and Krothering, and the Witches must else sack the house of
Krothering and in a few days win the keep, “and then, snaky despair;
and the fault on’t not in fortune but in ourselves, that could not
frame ourselves to our fortune”; that at last with heavy hearts they
consented to do her bidding.
Without more ado, was a parley called, Mevrian speaking for herself
from a high window opening on the court and Gro for Corinius. In which
parley it was articled that she should render up the tower; and that
the fighting men which were within should have peace and safe passage
whither they would; and that there should be no scathe nor outrage done
to Krothering neither to the lands thereof; and that all this should
be writ down and sealed under the hands of Corinius, Gro, and Laxus,
and the gates opened to the Witches and all keys delivered up within an
half hour of the giving of the sealed writing into Mevrian’s hand.
Now was all this performed accordingly, and Krothering keep rendered
to the Lord Corinius. Astar and Ravnor and their men would have abided
as prisoners for Mevrian’s sake, but Corinius would not suffer it,
vowing with bloody imprecations that he would let slay out of hand any
man of them he should take after an hour’s space within three miles of
Krothering. So, under Mevrian’s strait commands, they departed.
XXIV: A KING IN KROTHERING
HOW THE LORD CORINIUS WOULD TAKE UNTO HIMSELF A QUEEN IN DEMONLAND,
AND MADE HIM A BRIDAL FEAST THERETO: WHEREIN IS A NOTABLE
INSTANCE HOW UNTO THEM WHICH THE GODS DO LOVE HELPERS ARE
RAISED UP AND COMFORTERS EVEN IN THE MIDST OF THEIR ENEMIES.
That same evening Corinius let dight a banquet in the Chamber of the
Moon for some two score of his chiefest men, a very pompous and kingly
entertainment; and conceiving that he might now very well avail to
accomplish his pleasure touching the Lady Mevrian, he sent her word by
one of his gentlemen that she should attend him there. And she sending
answer to tell him gently all else in the castle was at his service,
but for herself she was quite fordone and greatly desired rest and
sleep that night, he fell a-laughing immoderately and saying, “A most
unseasonable desire, and one that smacketh besides of mockery, since
well she knoweth what this night I do intend. Wish her to repair to us,
and that right swiftly, lest I fetch her.”
To that message sent her came she in a short while herself to answer,
dressed all in funereal black, her gown and close-fitting bodice of
black sendal slashed with black sarcenett, and about her throat a chain
of sapphires darkly lustrous. Very nobly she carried her head. Framed
with the piled and braided masses of her night-dark hair, her face
showed pale indeed, but unruffled and undismayed.
All at her coming in stood up to greet her; and Corinius said, “Lady,
thou didst change thy mind quickly since thou didst first affirm thou
never wouldst yield up Krothering unto me.”
“As quickly as I might, my lord,” said she, “for I saw I was wrong.”
He abode silent a minute, his eyes like amorous surfeiters over-running
her fair form. Then said he, “Thou didst wish to purchase safety for
thy friends?”
She answered, “Yes.”
“For thine own self,” said Corinius, “it had made no jot of difference.
Be witness unto me the omnisciency of the Gods, whereunto is nothing
concealable, I mean thee only good.”
“My lord,” said she, “I embrace the comfort of that word. And know that
good to me is mine own freedom: not conditions of any man’s choosing.”
Whereto he, being well tippled with wine, framing the most lovely
countenance he might, made answer, “I doubt not but to-night, madam,
thou shalt be well advised to choose that highest condition, and till
to-day unknown, which I shall proffer thee: to be Queen of Demonland.”
She thanked him in her best manner, but said she was minded to forgo
that supposedly pleasing eminence.
“How?” said he. “Is it too little a thing for thee? Or is it as I
think, that thou laughest?”
She said, “My lord, it should little beseem me that am of the seed
of men of war since long generations to trap my mind with the false
shows of a greatness that is gone. Yet I pray you forget not this: the
dominion of the Demons hath used to soar a pitch above common royalty,
and like the eye of day regarded kings from above. And for this style
of Queen thou offerest me, I say unto thee it is an addition I desire
not, who am sister unto him that writ that writing above the gate that
all ye had tasted the truth thereof had he been here to meet with you.”
Corinius said, “True it is, some have out-bragged the world, yet I ere
this have used them like knaves. My jack-boot hath known things in
Carcë, madam, I’ll not gall thy heart to tell thee of.” But perceiving
a great lowe of disdainful anger blaze in Mevrian’s eye, “Cry you
mercy,” said he, “incomparable lady; this was beside the mark. I would
not sully our new friendship with memories of—— Ho there! a chair
beside me for the Queen.”
But Mevrian made them set it on the far side of the board, and there
sat her down, saying, “I pray thee, my Lord Corinius, unsay that word.
Thou knowest it dislikes me.”
He looked on her in silence for a minute, leaned forward across the
board, his lips parted a little and between them his breath coming
and going thick and swift. “Well,” he said, “sit there, and it like
thee, madam, and manage my delights by stages. Last year the wide
world betwixt us: this year the mountains: yestereve Krothering walls:
to-night a table’s breadth: and ere night be done, not so much as——”
Gro saw the wild-deer look in Lady Mevrian’s eyes. She said, “This is
talk I have not learned to understand, my lord.”
“I shall learn it thee,” said Corinius, his face aflame. “Lovers live
by love as larks by leeks. By Satan, I do love thee as thou wert the
heart out of my body.”
“My Lord Corinius,” said she, “we ladies of the north have little
stomach for these fashions, howe’er they commend them in waterish
Witchland. If thou’lt have my friendship, bring me service therefor,
and that in season. This is no fit table-talk.”
“Why there,” said he, “we’re in fast agreement. I’ll blithely show thee
all this, and a quainter thing beside, in thine own chamber. But ’twas
beyond my hopes thou’dst grant me that so suddenly. Are we so happy?”
In great shame and anger the Lady Mevrian stood up from the table.
Corinius, something unsteadily, leaped to his feet. For all his
bigness, so tall she was she looked him level in the eye. And he, as
when in the face of a night-ranging beast suddenly a man brandishes
a bright light, stood stupid under that gaze, the springs of action
strangely frozen in him on a sudden, and said sullenly, “Madam, I am a
soldier. Truly mine affection standeth not upon compliment. That I am
impatient, put the wite on thy beauty not on me. Pray you, be seated.”
But Mevrian answered, “Thy language, my lord, is too bold and vicious.
Come to me to-morrow if thou wilt; but I’ll have thee know, patience
only and courtesy shall get good of me.”
She turned to the door. He, as if with the turning away of that lady’s
eyes the spell was broke, cried loudly upon his folk to stay her. But
there was none stirred. Therewith he, as one that cannot command his
own indecent appetites, o’ersetting bench and board in eager haste to
lay hands on her, it so betided that he tripped up with one of these
and fell a-sprawling. And ere he was gotten again on his feet, the Lady
Mevrian was gone from the hall.
He rose up painfully, proffering from his lips a mud-spring of
barbarous and filthy imprecations; so that Laxus who helped raise him
up was fain to chide him, saying, “My lord, unman not thyself by such
a bestial transformation. Are not we yet with harness on our backs in
a kingdom newly gained, the old lords thereof discomfited indeed but
not yet ta’en nor slain, studying belike to raise new powers against
us? And above such and so many affairs wilt thou make place for the
allurements of love?”
“Ay!” answered he. “Nor shall such a sapless ninny as thou avail to
cross me therein. Ask thy little gamesome Sriva, when thou comest home
to wed her, if I be not better able than thou to please a woman. She’ll
tell thee! I’ the mean season meddle not in matters that be too high
for such as thou.”
Both Gro and the sons of Corund were by and heard those words. The Lord
Laxus schooled himself to laugh. He turned toward Gro, saying, “The
general is far gone in wine.”
Gro, marking Laxus’s face flushed red to the ears for all his studied
carelessness, answered him softly, “’Tis so, my lord. And in wine is
truth.”
Now Corinius, bethinking him that it was yet early and the feast barely
well begun, let set a guard on all the passages which led to Mevrian’s
lodgings, to the end that she might not issue therefrom but there wait
on his pleasure. That done, he bade renew their feasting.
No stint of luscious meats and wines was there, and the lords of
Witchland sat them down again right eagerly to the good banquet. Laxus
spoke secretly to Gro: “I wot well thou takest in very ill part these
doings. Let it stand firm in thy mind that if thou shouldst deem it
fitting to play him a trick and steal the lady from him, I’ll not stand
i’ the way on’t.”
“In a bunch of cards,” said Gro, “knaves wait upon the kings. It were
not so ill done and we made it so here. I heard a bird sing lately thou
hadst a quarrel to him.”
“Thou must not think so,” answered Laxus. “I’ll give thee still a
Roland for thine Oliver, and tell thee ’tis most apparent thyself dost
love this lady.”
Gro said, “Thou chargest me with a sweet folly is foreign to my nature,
being a grave scholar that if ever I did frequent such toys have long
eschewed them. Only meseems ’tis an ill thing if she must be given
over unto him against her will. Thou knowest him of a rough and mere
soldierly mind, besides his dissolute company with other women.”
“Tush,” said Laxus, “he may go his gate for me, and be as close as a
butterfly with the lady. But out of policy, ’twere best rid her hence.
I’d not be seen in’t. That provided, I’ll second thee all ways. If he
lie here the summer long in amorous dalliance, justly might the King
abraid us that midst o’ the day’s sport we gave his good hawk a gorge,
and so lost him the game.”
“I see,” said Gro, smiling in himself, “thou art a man of sober
government and understanding, and thinkest first of Witchland. And that
is both just and right.”
Now went the feast forward with great surfeiting and swigging of
wine. Mevrian’s women that were there, much against their own good
will, to serve the banquet, set ever fresh dishes before the feasters
and poured forth fresh wines, golden and tawny and ruby-red, in the
goblets of jade and crystal and hammered gold. The air in the fair
chamber was thick with the steam of bake-meats and the vinous breath
of the feasters, so that the lustre of the opal lamps burned coppery,
and about each lamp was a bush of coppery beams like the beams about
a torch that burns in a fog. Great was the clatter of cups, and great
the clinking of glass as in their drunkenness the Witches cast down
the priceless beakers on the floor, smashing them in shivers. And huge
din there was of laughter and song; and amidst of it, women’s voices
singing, albeit near drowned in the hurly burly. For they constrained
Mevrian’s damosels in Krothering to sing and dance before them,
howsoever woeful at heart. And to other entertainment than this of
dance and song was many a black-bearded reveller willing to constrain
them; and sought occasion thereto, but this by stealth only, and out
of eye-shot of their general. For heavily enow was his wrath fallen on
some who rashly flaunted in his face their light disports, presuming to
hunt in such fields while their lord went still a-fasting.
After a while Heming, who sat next to Gro, began to say to him in a
whisper, “This is an ill banquet.”
“Meseems rather ’tis a very good banquet,” said Gro.
“Would I saw some other issue thereof,” said Heming, “than that he
purposeth. Or how thinkest thou?”
“I scarce can blame him,” answered Gro. “’Tis a most lovesome lady.”
“Is not the man a most horrible open swine? And is it to be endured
that he should work his lewd purpose on so sweet a lady?”
“What have I to do with it?” said Gro.
“What less than I?” said Heming.
“It dislikes thee?” said Gro.
“Art thou a man?” said Heming. “And she that hateth him besides as
bloody Atropos!”
Gro looked him a swift searching look in the eye. Then he whispered,
his head bowed over some raisins he was a-picking: “If this is thy
mind, ’tis well.” And speaking softly, with here and there some snatch
of louder discourse or jest between whiles lest he should seem too
earnestly engaged in secret talk, he taught Heming orderly and clearly
what he had to do, discovering to him that Laxus also, being bit
with jealousy, was of their accord. “Thy brother Cargo is aptest for
this. He standeth about her height, and by reason of his youth is yet
beardless. Go find him out. Rehearse unto him word by word all this
talking that hath been between me and thee. Corinius holdeth me too
deep suspect to suffer me out of his eye to-night. Unto you sons of
Corund therefore is the task; and I biding at his elbow may avail to
hold him here i’ the hall till it be performed. Go; and wise counsel
and good speed wait on your attempts.”
• • • • •
The Lady Mevrian, being escaped to her own chamber in the south tower,
sat by an eastern window that looked across the gardens and the lake,
past the sea-lochs of Stropardon and the dark hills of Eastmark, to the
stately ranges afar which overhang in mid-air Mosedale and Murkdale
and Swartriverdale and the inland sea of Throwater. The last lights of
day still lingered on their loftier summits: on Ironbeak, on the gaunt
wall of Skarta, and on the distant twin towers of Dina seen beyond the
lower Mosedale range in the depression of Neverdale Hause. Behind them
rolled up the ascent of heaven the wheels of quiet Night: holy Night,
mother of the Gods, mother of sleep, tender nurse of all little birds
and beasts that dwell in the field and all tired hearts and weary:
mother besides of strange children, affrights, and rapes, and midnight
murders bold.
Mevrian sat there till all the earth was blurred in darkness and the
sky a-throb with starlight, for it was yet an hour until the rising of
the moon. And she prayed to Lady Artemis, calling her by her secret
names and saying, “Goddess and Maiden chaste and holy; triune Goddess,
Which in heaven art, and on the earth Huntress divine, and also hast in
the veiled sunless places below earth Thy dwelling, viewing the large
stations of the dead: save me and keep me that am Thy maiden still.”
She turned the ring upon her finger and scanned in the gathering
gloom the bezel thereof, which was of that chrysoprase that is hid
in light and seen in darkness, being as a flame by night but in the
day-time yellow or wan. And behold, it palpitated with splendour from
withinward, and was as if a thousand golden sparks danced and swirled
within the stone.
While she pondered what interpretation lay likeliest on this sudden
flowering of unaccustomed splendour within the chrysoprase, behold one
of her women of the bed-chamber who brought lights, and said, standing
before her, “Twain of those lords of Witchland would speak with your
ladyship in private.”
“Two?” said Mevrian. “There’s safety yet in numbers. Which be they?”
“Highness, they be tall and slim of body. They be black-avised. They
bear them discreet as dormice, and most commendably sober.”
Mevrian asked, “Is it the Lord Gro? Hath he a great black beard, much
curled and perfumed?”
“Highness, I marked not that either weareth a beard,” said the woman,
“nor their names I know not.”
“Well,” said Mevrian, “admit them. And do thou and thy fellows attend
me whiles I give them audience.”
So it was done according to her bidding. And there entered in those two
sons of Corund.
They greeted her with respectful salutations, and Heming said, “Our
errand, most worshipful lady, was for thine own ear only if it please
thee.”
Mevrian said to her women, “Make fast the doors, and attend me in the
ante-chamber. And now, my lords,” said she, and waited for them to
begin.
She was seated sideways in the window, betwixt the light and the dark.
The crystal lamps shining from within the room showed deeper darknesses
in her hair than night’s darkness without. The curve of her white arms
resting in her lap was like the young moon cradled above the sunset. A
falling breeze out of the south came laden with the murmur of the sea,
far away beyond fields and vineyards, restlessly surging even in that
calm weather amid the sea-caves of Stropardon. It was as if the sea
and the night enfolding Demonland gasped in indignation at such things
as Corinius, holding himself already an undoubted possessor of his
desires, devised for that night in Krothering.
Those brethren stood abashed in the presence of such rare beauty.
Heming with a deep breath spake and said, “Madam, what slender opinion
soever thou hast held of us of Witchland, I pray thee be satisfied that
I and my kinsman have sought to thee now with a clean heart to do thee
service.”
“Princes,” said she, “scarce might ye blame me did I misdoubt you.
Yet, seeing that my life’s days have been not among ambidexters and
coney-catchers but lovers of clean hands and open dealing, not even
after that which I this night endured will mine heart believe that all
civility is worn away in Witchland. Did I not freely receive Corinius’s
self when I did open my gates to him, firmly believing him to be a king
and not a ravening wolf?”
Then said Heming, “Canst thou wear armour, madam? Thou art something
of an height with my brother. To bring thee past the guard, if thou go
armed, as I shall conduct thee, the wine they have drunken shall be thy
minister. I have provided an horse. In the likeness of my young brother
mayst thou ride forth to-night out of this castle, and win clean away.
But in thine own shape thou mayst never pass from these thy lodgings,
for he hath set a guard thereon; being resolved, come thereof what may,
to visit thee here this night: in thine own chamber, madam.”
The sounds of furious revelry floated up from the banquet chamber.
Mevrian heard by snatches the voice of Corinius singing an unseemly
song. As in the presence of some dark influence that threatened an ill
she might not comprehend, yet felt her blood quail and her heart grow
sick because of it, she looked on those brethren.
She said at last, “Was this your plan?”
Heming answered, “It was the Lord Gro did most ingenuously conceive it.
But Corinius, as he hath ever held him in distrust, and most of all
when he hath drunken overmuch, keepeth him most firmly at his elbow.”
Cargo now did off his armour, and Mevrian calling in her women to take
this and other gear fared straightway to an inner chamber to change her
fashion.
Heming said to his brother, “Thou shalt need to go about it with
great circumspection, to come off when we are gone so as thou be not
aspied. Were I thou, I should be tempted for the rareness of the jest
to await his coming, and assay whether thou couldst not make as good a
counterfeit Mevrian as she a counterfeit Cargo.”
“Thou,” said Cargo, “mayst well laugh and be gay, thou that must
conduct her. And art resolved, I dare lay my head to a turnip, to do
thy utmost endeavour to despoil Corinius of that felicity he hath
to-night decreed him, and bless thyself therewith.”
“Thou hast fallen,” answered Heming, “into a most barbarous thought.
Shall my tongue be so false a traitor to mine heart as to say I love
not this lady? Compare but her beauty and my youth together, how should
it other be? But with such a height of fervour I do love her that I’d
as lief offer violence to a star of heaven, as require of her aught but
honest.”