The Complete Lyonesse Part 40

Dhrun said to Glyneth: "Amazing! The bees dart and swoop. Like him"-he jerked his thumb forward-"they have no taste for music." He raised the pipes to his lips, but Glyneth stopped him. "Dhrun, no! He will do us harm!"

All night the horses ran, knowing no fatigue but nevertheless furious at the demon who drove them so mercilessly. An hour after dawn Carfilhiot allowed another ten-minute halt. Neither Dhrun nor Glyneth chose to eat; Carfilhiot found bread and dried fish in the larder at the back of the wagon; he ate a few mouthfuls and once more urged the horses into motion.

All day the wagon rumbled across the pleasant landscapes of south Dahaut: a flat country of endless expanses with a great windy sky overhead.

Late in the day, the wagon crossed the Tam River by a stone bridge of seven arches and so entered Pomperol, without challenge either by the single Daut border official or his corpulent Pomperan counterpart, both preoccupied by their chess game, on a table placed precisely over the boundary at the center of the bridge.

The land altered; forests and isolated m.u.f.fin-shaped hills, each crowned with a castle, reduced the vast perspectives of Dahaut to ordinary human scale.

At sunset the horses at last began to flag; Carfilhiot knew that he could not drive another long night through. He turned off into the forest and halted beside a brook. While he gingerly unharnessed the horses and tied them where they could drink and graze, Glyneth built a fire, hung the iron pot from its tripod .and cooked a makes.h.i.+ft soup from materials at hand. She released her cats from their basket and let them run here and there about a strictly circ.u.mscribed area. Sitting over their meager supper, Dhrun and Glyneth spoke together in subdued undertones. Carfilhiot, across the fire, watched them through half-closed eyelids, but said nothing.

Glyneth became increasingly disturbed by the quality of Carfilhiot's attention. At last, as twilight darkened the sky, she called her cats and put them into their baskets. Carfilhiot, seemingly lazy and pa.s.sive, sat in contemplation of her slight yet unexpectedly rich contours, the easy graces and elegant little flourishes which made Glyneth her unique and endearing self.

Glyneth rinsed the iron pot, stowed it in the locker with the tripod. Carfilhiot rose to his feet, stretched. Glyneth eyed him askance as he went to the back of the wagon, reached within and brought out a pallet which he spread beside the fire.

Glyneth whispered into Dhrun's ear; together they went to the wagon, Carfilhiot stood behind them. "Where are you going?"

"To bed," said Glyneth. "Where else?"

Carfilhiot seized Dhrun and lofted him into the wagon, then closed and barred the door. "Tonight," he told Glyneth, "you and I will bed by the fire, and tomorrow you will have much to think about."

Glyneth tried to run behind the wagon, but Carfilhiot seized her arm. "Save your energy," he told her. "You will find yourself becoming tired presently, but you won't want to stop."

Inside the wagon Dhrun s.n.a.t.c.hed up his pipes and began to play, in a pa.s.sion of fury and helpless grief for what was happening to Glyneth. The golden bees, about to relax for the night, with only an occasional warm buzzing to remind Dhrun of their presence, flew a set of resentful loops, but Dhrun played only the harder.

Carfilhiot jumped to his feet and strode to the wagon. "Put an end to the streedle! It grinds on my nerves!"

Dhrun played with an even greater fervor which almost lifted him from his seat. The golden bees flew in zig-zag courses, turned erratic somersaults and finally in despair flew from Dhrun's eyes altogether. Dhrun played all the louder.

Carfilhiot went to the door. "I will come inside; I will break your pipes and deal you such buffets as to silence you very still."

Dhrun played on and the piping excited the bees so that they flew back and forth across the wagon, careening from side to side.

Carfilhiot raised the bar from the door. Dhrun put down the pipes and spoke: "Da.s.senach, to hand!"

Carfilhiot threw open the door. The bees flew out and struck his face; he recoiled, and so saved his life, as the blade hissed past his neck. He uttered a startled curse, then, seizing the sword, wrested it from Dhrun's grip and threw it into the underbrush. Dhrun kicked at his face; Carfilhiot seized the foot and sent Dhrun reeling back into the wagon.

"No more noise!" panted Carfilhiot. "No more pounding or piping, or I will do you harm!"

He slammed the door and threw the bar. He turned to Glyneth, only to find her scrambling up into the branches of a ma.s.sive old oak tree. He ran across the clearing but already she was out of his reach. He climbed after her, but she climbed higher and out to the end of a branch which sagged beneath her weight, and Carfilhiot dared not follow.

He spoke, first cajoling, then pleading, then threatening, but she made no response, and sat quietly among the leaves. Carfilhiot spoke in a final threat, which made her blood run cold; then he descended the tree. Had he an axe he would have chopped away the branch which supported her, or the tree itself, and let her die.

All the night long Glyneth huddled in the tree, cramped and miserable. Carfilhiot, on the pallet beside the fire, seemed to sleep, although from time to time he stirred to throw wood on the fire, and Glyneth was afraid to descend.

Inside the wagon Dhrun lay on his own couch, exultant in his regained sight, but sick with horror at imagined events outside by the fire.

Dawn slowly illuminated the cart. Carfilhiot arose from the pallet, and looked up into the tree. "Come down; it is time to be going."

"I don't care to come down."

"Suit yourself. I am leaving, nonetheless."

Carfilhiot harnessed the horses and led them into the traces, where they stood trembling and pawing the ground in detestation for their new master.

With growing concern, Glyneth saw the preparations. Carfilhiot watched her from the corner of his eye. At last he called up: "Come down and get into the wagon. Else I will bring Dhrun out and strangle him before your eyes. Then I will climb the tree and throw a rope over the branch, and I will pull down on the rope so that the branch breaks. I will catch you, or perhaps I won't and you will be sorely hurt. In either case I will have you, to do as I like."

"If I come down you will do the same." Carfilhiot said: "In truth, I am no longer in the mood for your sour little body, so come down."

"Let Dhrun from the wagon first."

"Why?"

"I am afraid of you."

"How can he help?"

"He'd find some way. You don't know Dhrun."

Carfilhiot threw open the door. "Come out, you little lizard."

Dhrun had overheard the conversation with great joy; it seemed that Glyneth had evaded Carfilhiot. Feigning blindness, he groped for the door and descended to the ground, though he found it hard to control his exultation. How beautiful the world looked! How green the trees, how n.o.ble the horses! He had never before seen Dr. Fidelius' wagon: gaudy, tall and eccentric of proportion. And here was Glyneth, as dear and pretty as ever, though now she was pale and strained, and her blonde curls were tangled around dry twigs and oak leaves.

Dhrun stood by the wagon, peering into nothingness. Carfilhiot threw the pallet into the wagon. Dhrun watched him furtively. So this was the enemy! Dhrun had imagined him older, with ropy features and a mottled nose, but Carfilhiot was clear-eyed and splendidly handsome.

"Into the wagon," said Carfilhiot. "Quick, the both of you."

"Fiirst my cats must have a run!" cried Glyneth. "And something to eat! I'll give them some cheese."

"If there is cheese, bring it here," said Carfilhiot. "The cats can eat gra.s.s, and tonight all of us may eat cat."

Glyneth made no response, and gave Carfilhiot the cheese without comment. The cats took their exercise, and would have prolonged the occasion. Glyneth was compelled to speak sternly before they would return to their baskets. And once again the wagon drove south.

Inside the wagon Dhrun exclaim to Glyneth: "I can see! Last night the bees flew from my eyes! They are as good as ever! My eyes, not the bees."

"s.h.!.+" said Glyneth. "That is wonderful news! But we must not let Carfilhiot know! He is as crafty as he is terrible."

"I will never be sad again," said Dhrun. "No matter what happens. I will think back to the time when the world was dark."

"I would feel happier if we were riding with someone else," said Glyneth wistfully. "I spent all last night in a tree."

"If he dares touch you, I will cut him in pieces," declared Dhrun. "Don't forget! I can see now."

"Perhaps it won't come to that. Tonight he may be thinking of other things... I wonder if s.h.i.+mrod is trying to find us?"

"He can't be too far behind."

The wagon rolled south, and an hour after noon arrived at the market-town Honriot, where Carfilhiot bought bread, cheese, apples and a jug of wine.

In the center of Honriot, Icnield Way crossed the East-West Road; Carfilhiot drove to the west urging the horses to ever greater speed, as if he too antic.i.p.ated the coming of s.h.i.+mrod. Snorting, shaking their manes, heads low to the ground or sometimes raised on high, the great black horses plunged west, their soft tiger feet thrusting back the ground. Behind trundled the wagon, wheels bounding, the body swaying on its long laminated easy-ways. Occasionally Carfilhiot used his whip, cracking it upon the glistening black haunches, and the horses tossed their heads in rage.

"Take care, take care!" they cried back. "We obey the instruction of your reins, because that is the way it must be; but do not presume, or we might turn and rear over you and flail down our great black feet, and drag you to the dirt and stamp you into the ground! Hear, and have a care!"

Carfilhiot could not understand their speech and used the whip as suited his pleasure; and the horses tossed their heads in ever-mounting fury.

Late in the afternoon the wagon pa.s.sed King Deuel's summer palace. For the day's entertainment King Deuel had ordained a pageant ent.i.tled: "Birds of Fantasy." With great artistry his courtiers had bedecked themselves in black and white feathers, to simulate imaginary sea-birds. Their ladies had been allowed more lat.i.tude and they promenaded along the greensward in total avian extravagance, using the plumes of ostrich, egret, lyrebirds, peac.o.c.ks and vesprils. Some wore confections of pale green, others cerise or mauve or golden-ochre: a prospect of the most gorgeous complexity, and one enjoyed to its fullest by Mad King Deuel, who sat on a tall throne, costumed as a cardinal, the only red bird of the pageant. He was enthusiastic in his praises and called out compliments, pointing with tip of his red wing.

Carfilhiot, recalling his previous encounter with King Deuel, pulled the wagon up short. He considered a moment, then descended and called Glyneth down to the road.

He instructed her in terms which admitted of neither argument nor flexibility. She lowered the side panel to make a platform, brought out her basket, and with Dhrun playing the pipes, set her cats to dancing.

The ladies and gentlemen in their remarkable finery came to watch; they laughed and clapped their hands, and some of them went to call King Deuel's attention to the novel exercises.

King Deuel presently stepped down from his throne and sauntered across the sward to watch the display. He smiled and nodded, but he was not altogether uncritical. "I see here an ingenious effort, to be sure, and the antics are amusing enough. Ha! Excellent saltation there! That black cat is agile! Still it must be remembered that the feline is a lesser order, when all is said. Dare I ask why we have no dancing birds?"

Carfilhiot spoke up. "Your Majesty, I sequester the dancing birds within the wagon! We deem them too exquisite for the common view!"

Mad King Deuel spoke haughtily: "Do you then characterize my august vision as vulgar and common, or anything other than sublime?"

"Indeed not, your Majesty! You are welcome, and you alone, to inspect the extraordinary spectacle inside the wagon."

King Deuel, mollified, marched to the back of the wagon. "A moment, your Majesty!" Carfilhiot closed the side panel, cats and all, and went to the rear. "Glyneth, inside! Dhrun, inside! Prepare the birds for his Majesty. Now, sir, up these steps, and in with you!"

He closed and barred the door, and climbing to the front seat, drove away at a mad gallop. The befeathered ladies looked after in puzzlement; some of the men ran a few steps along the road but were impeded by their black and white plumage, and so, with wings trailing, they returned to the sward before the summer palace, where they tried to fit some pattern of logic upon the occurrence.

Within the wagon King Deuel shouted out orders: "Halt this vehicle at once! I see no birds whatever! This is a most insipid prank!"

Carfilhiot called down through the window: "In due course, your Majesty, I will halt the wagon. Then we shall discuss the plumes and quills that you decreed for my backside!"

King Deuel became silent and for the rest of the day made only fretful clucking sounds.

The day drew toward a close. In the south appeared a line of low gray hills; an outlying arm of Forest Tantrevalles lay dark across the north. Peasant huts became rare and the land tended toward the wild and melancholy.

At sunset Carfilhiot drove the wagon across a meadow to a copse of elms and beeches.

As before Carfilhiot unharnessed the horses and put them to graze on a long tether, while Glyneth cooked the supper. King Deuel refused to leave the wagon, and Dhrun, still feigning blindness, sat on a fallen log.

Glyneth brought soup to King Deuel and served him bread and cheese as well; then she went to sit by Dhrun. They spoke in low voices.

Dhrun said: "He pretends not to watch you, but everywhere you go his eyes follow."

"Dhrun, don't become reckless. He can kill us, but that is the worst he can do."

Dhrun said through clenched teeth: "I won't allow him to touch you. I will die first."

Glyneth whispered: "I've thought of something, so don't worry. Remember, you are still blind!"

Carfilhiot rose to his feet. "Dhrun, into the wagon with you."

Dhrun said sullenly: "I intend to stay with Glyneth."

Carfilhiot seized him, carried him kicking and fighting to the wagon and thrust him inside and barred the door. He turned toward Glyneth. "Tonight there are no trees to climb."

Glyneth backed away. Carfilhiot came after her. Glyneth sauntered to the horses. "Friends," she said, "here is the creature who drives you so hard, and whips your naked backsides."

"Yes, so I see."

"I see with both heads at once."

Carfilhiot c.o.c.ked his head to the side, and approached slowly. "Glyneth! Look at me!"

"I see you well enough," said Glyneth. "Go away, or the horses will trample you."

Carfilhiot halted and looked at the horses, their white eyes and stiff manes. Opening their mouths they showed long forked fangs. One of them suddenly rose on his hind legs and struck down at Carfilhiot with the talons of its front feet.

Carfilhiot retreated to where he could climb upon the wagon if necessary, and stood glowering. The horses lowered their manes, sheathed their talons, and once more began to graze.

Glyneth strolled back to the wagon. Carfilhiot jerked forward. Glyneth stopped still. The horses raised their heads and looked toward Carfilhiot. Their manes began to rise. Carfilhiot made an angry gesture and climbed to the seat of the wagon.

Glyneth opened the back door. She and Dhrun made a bed under the wagon and rested undisturbed.

On a morning dreary with spatters of rain, the wagon pa.s.sed from Pomperol into west Dahaut and entered the Forest of Tantrevalles. Carfilhiot, hunched on the front seat, drove at reckless speed, wielding his whip with abandon, and the black horses ran foaming through the forest. At noon Carfilhiot turned off the road to follow a dim lane which climbed the slopes of a rocky hill, to arrive at Faroli, the octagonal multi-leveled manse of Tamurello the Sorcerer.

By three sets of invisible hands Carfilhiot had been bathed and groomed, lathered head to toe with sweet sap of dimity. He had been sc.r.a.ped with a white boxwood paddle and rinsed in warm water scented with lavender, so that his fatigue had become no more than a delightful languor. He dressed in a s.h.i.+rt of black and crimson and a robe of dark gold. An invisible hand tendered him a goblet of pomegranate wine, which he drank, then stretched his beautiful easy limbs like a lazy animal. For a few moments he stood in reflection, wondering how best to have his way with Tamurello. Much depended upon Tamurello's mood, whether it were active or pa.s.sive. Carfilhiot must control these moods as a musician controls his music. Finally he left the chamber and joined Tamurello in the center saloon, where on all sides tall panes of gla.s.s overlooked the forest.

Tamurello seldom showed himself in his natural similitude, preferring always a guise from among the dozens at his command. Carfilhiot had seen him in a variety of phases, more or less beguiling, but all memorable. Tonight he was an elderkin of the falloys, in a sea-green robe and a crown of silver cusps. He used white hair and silver-pale skin, with green eyes. Carfilhiot had seen this semblance before and had no great love for its extremely subtle perceptions and the delicate precision of its demands. As always, when confronted with the falloy elderkin, Carfilhiot adopted a manner of taciturn strength.

The elderkin inquired as to his comfort. "You are refreshed, I hope?"

"I have known several days of hards.h.i.+p, but I am once more comfortable."

The elderkin turned a smiling glance out the window. "This misfortune of yours-how curious and unexpected!"

Carfilhiot replied in a neutral voice: "For the whole of my inconvenience I blame Melancthe."

The elderkin smiled once more. "And all without provocation?"

"Naturally not! When have I, or you, concerned ourselves with provocation?"

"Seldom. But what will be the consequences?"

"None, or so I hope."

"You are not definite in your own mind?"

"I must give the matter thought."

"True. In such cases one must be judicious."