Chapter Six
THE ASSASSIN
A vertical yellow line of light, bright as a newly-lit candle in a dark room, appeared on the eastern horizon. The light spread laterally till the whole edge of sea against sky glowed gold, and vertically till the wave crests were tinged with brightness and the clouds edged with shining silver. Then the sun itself rose, as intolerably bright as molten metal poured from an ironmaster's crucible. It seemed as if the very radiance of the new day were subduing the sea for, as the light increased, so did the height of the waves dwindle till they became little more than wrinkles on its broad face.
Their diminishing was welcome. Before even the shores of England were fading from view behind us, the Mentonese vessel had begun to encounter heavy seas. By the first night we had run into a squall, with driving winds. The ship had pitched with the concentrated ferocity of a bucking horse at a fair, trying to dislodge its rider before two minutes were up and a prize obtained.
I would surely have gone overboard had not one of the sailors rolled me under the lea of one of the overturned dories and, bundled in blankets as I already was, roped me to the ship's rails. Indeed, so miserable was I by then that I resisted his attention, feeling it preferable to be tipped into the sea than to endure this appalling physical discomfort. Again and again Ben Emery's words came to mind; fully did I understand, now, why he preferred to be a longshoreman than a sailor! And yet, not only did these Mentonese endure the motion but they seemed almost to revel in it. To see them hurrying up aloft on those swaying, pitching masts and spars was a dizzifying spectacle, especially to one feeling so ill as I. Those four days had been, beyond question, the most utterly wretched in my entire life.
Had been....Why yes indeed, I was beginning to feel better! I had woken, still feeling miserably unwell, when it was still dark and the ship still rolling abominably; yet I had not been sick. While watching the sunrise, I had not even been conscious of my own inward feelings; it was the first time in four days that anything had distracted me from my sufferings. (Mal-de-mer,the French called it; what a mild term for such an appalling experience!) And now--yes, I was definitely better. Not to the point of welcoming food--I recoiled from the very thought--yet it did begin to seem possible that soon I might unhitch myself, stretch and rise!
Suddenly I remembered Avran. He had been in little better condition than I and, throughout those four days, we had scarcely exchanged either word or look. Despite the weather, he had refused to be moved under the lee of the dory. Instead he had remained on the open deck, swathed in his orange cloak and covered by a tarpaulin provided by one of the sailors. I could see him now, lying as inert and enwrapped as a chrysalis by the rail only fifteen feet or so from me. From his stillness he must surely be asleep, reasonably enough at such an hour and after such afflictions.
As the light of the rising sun showed me more of the deck, I realized that Avran was the only person in sight. The sailors, no doubt exhausted after so long a fight with the storm, must be below and sleeping; the helmsman was not within my view. Overhead the mainsail was dark against a sky that was paling now to grey. A random sunbeam highlighted Avran's red head and an edge of the orange cloak wrapped about him. I smiled when I saw him hunch and shift away from its light; it was my first smile since I had set foot on the ship.
Yet, what was that? Surely I had seen a movement, in the shadow under the main mast. Yes, there was someone, someone emerging from the recess in the deck that contained the Mentonese shrine. It was not one of the seamen, for all of them, even the ship's officers, wore blue tunics and all were fair. No, this was a dark-haired man, dark-cloaked also.
Ah, now, I had it! This was that fourth passenger, the one whom Avran had called a Baroddan, the one who had turned away from our greeting. I remembered Avran saying that many Baroddans hated the men of his own nationŽ--what was it called? Oh yes, Sandastre. At that memory, I felt a sudden disquiet which jolted me into full attention.
I tried to sit up but, with the blankets and rope so tight about me, could only manage a half crouch. The man had not seen me, concealed as I was under the boat. He had moved forward a little, still keeping within the shadow of the sail. I saw him glance hurriedly up and down the deck; it was still empty. Evidently reassured, he stepped out from the shadow, not boldly even now, but watchfully--like a rat that, although seeing some helpless prey before it, is yet conscious that cats might be about. Indeed, lean and dark-coloured as he was, he looked curiously ratlike. Nor could there be any question that his prey was to be Avran.
I strove again to sit upright, but could not. Only my right arm was free, and there was nothing within reach which I could use, one-handed, to pull myself loose from the swathing blankets. Moreover, as I realized with increased anxiety, the rope was too tight about my shoulders for me to reach any of my throwing-knives. Nor would a shout avail much. Avran's sword was not to hand, for it was tucked away somewhere inside his tarpaulin; and, in any event, he was too deeply asleep to respond quickly. The Baroddan, if such he indeed was, was edging forward. His mouth must be drawn up into some sort of smile, for there was a gleam of white teeth. Appalledly I perceived that something else was gleaming--a long dagger, held in semi-concealment against his chest but ready for use, for murder.
Still there were no sailors in sight or even, I presumed, readily within hail. Only I might save my friend; but I was almost as swathed and helpless as a fly cobweb-enwrapped by a spider. Yet not quite, for I did have one free arm. What might I do? Was there any stone to hand, any lump of metal--anything I could throw, to startle the would-be assassin and save Avran?
The ratlike man was advancing more quickly now, his attention wholly concentrated upon my sleeping friend. Close by though I was, he had not perceived me. And supposing he did, I thought dismally, it would mean a second murder....
Yes, after all there was something to hand--a coarse, heavy earthenware bowl. It had been placed to receive my vomit but, though all too frequently utilised, presently was empty. An awkward missile indeed this would be, especially for a one-handed throw, but it was all I had! I grasped the bowl by its rim and swung it out from my body. Then, as the dark-haired man ran forward with dagger drawn back, I hurled the bowl at him with all my might.
It was not a good throw, yet it served. I had aimed for the assassin's shoulders, but the bowl was too heavy to be thrown so high; it hit him in the legs instead. Yet the shock proved enough. He staggered, stumbled and, as the ship dipped into the trough of a wave, fell forward. A gap had been left in the rails so that the dory might be drawn aboard or lowered. Into that gap he plunged and, with a despairing wail, fell from my sight into the sea.
Feverishly I freed myself from the rope and struggled out of the blankets, to run to Avran. The assassin's cry had aroused him; he turned and sat up, looking about him disturbedly.
"Varatie--Simon, what happened? Why so hasty? What awakened me?"
"The dark man--your Baroddan....He had a dagger--he tried to kill you...." I was breathless and shuddering with reaction, the words tumbling forth.
"But where....? Calm yourself, friend, and tell me what happened." Avran was fully awake now.
My legs seemed wobbly--as, indeed, they were, after so many days of unpleasant semi-inertia. I sat down beside him, swallowed hard, and then told him what had transpired, shuddering as I realized how close he had been to death.
Avran listened intently, then sighed, smiled at me and said: "How very valuable it is, Simon, that so often you observe, yet are not observed. And how truly excellently you throw! Twice now you have saved my life. Already I was deeply in your debt. What now can I say, save that I shall strive to repay that debt somehow, in some fashion? And that you are forever my friend. You said that, in England, you are of 'nowhere in particular'. Be sure that you will always have a place in Sandastre!"
Those words caused me to blush with pleasure. Moreover, they were uttered in so regal a tone--not a tone of condescension, but rather one of pride and assurance--that, for the first time, I realized Avran must be of high rank in his own country. That there had been two assassination attempts on him in so short a time also showed him, as I realized now, to be a person of consequence.
Avran had been looking serious, as well he might after so close a brush with death. However, while I was hesitating as to how I should respond, he laughed suddenly. "How very humiliating for our late acquaintance, to die, not from sword or lance, but from the blow of an earthenware pot. It is surely unprecedented in the annals of errantry! And see, there is the pot, unbroken, ready for re-use if the occasion warrants!"
I turned and looked. Yes indeed, there was the bowl; it had rolled into the scuppers and become wedged. A little hesitantly at first, then more wholeheartedly, I began to laugh also. As I laughed, I knew suddenly that I had left my seasickness completely behind me. Moreover, the sun was rising higher and the day was surely going to be a glorious one.
I strove to be serious. "Thank you for your kind words, Avran. Yet I must ask you to please tell me--and please forgive the ignorance that makes me ask this--where and what is Sandastre? And--if you'll again forgive the question-just who are you? I mean, what is your own rank?"
"You ask large questions, friend! To tell all about Sandastre, why that would take many days! Let me say merely that it is a land--a beautiful land, to my eyes--in the south of our island of Rockall. As for me, I am of the gard, its ruling house--its present ruling house. My father is eslef--ruling prince, in your language. As one of his sons--the third--I am indreslef, a sort of secondary prince I suppose. Helburnet, my eldest brother, will be eslef some day--if he lives; for already they have murdered my second brother and it is clear that they are trying hard to murder me also. If we both die, the Estantesecs will cease to be gard; and then, then there will be trouble!"
"But who is trying to murder you--who are 'they'?"
"I cannot be sure, but I think the Grassads are behind it. Always they prefer to make others wield weapons in their cause, so as to further, but yet to mask, their own purpose--their long purpose, to turn Grassavard into Grassagard!"
I was becoming confused by now and Avran realized it. "I apologize; I must explain more lucidly. It is early in the day to speak of history and of politics, yet I must strive to do so. Where, then, shall I begin?"
"At the very beginning, please. I know nothing of Rockall. If, as it seems, I am to live there, I shall need to know much."
"The beginning....Well, I shall try. Long ago, Rockall was but the northern part, the mountainous part, of a great empire. A great and rich empire that was, rich in gold and copper and a lost red metal which we call evragar; I have been told that it was called 'orichalcum', in the ancient writings of Greece. The peoples of that empire built great cities, fine roads to speed their armies, and temples with stepped sides, dedicated to the sun they worshipped. My own people lived in the mountains north of their realm. We were conquered by them, but never wholly subdued; we paid tribute reluctantly and supplied victims unwillingly to their temples. For they were very evil, those people of that empire. Their many slaves groaned under their rule and the stink of their sacrifices rose to offend the Heavens."
Avran paused, his brow shadowed by the envisioning of his ancestors' sufferings, but then continued: "In the end there came retribution. Great earthquakes threw down their temples. The waters of the oceans rose and overwhelmed their land, drowning fields, mines and cities. Only our high land of Rockall remained and a few lesser hills to the southward, left now as islands."
"When was this?"
"Oh, long ago. Two thousand years ago, perhaps."
Well, that was clear enough. I understood now that Avran must be talking of the great Flood to which the Bible refers, though I was surprised Noah had not encountered these islanders during his voyage."Please go on."
"Our tribes rose and overpowered the rulers, the governors, that had been imposed upon us. Many of them were killed, but some were not. Those survivors might well have been enslaved, men, women and children alike, as my ancestors had been; it would have seemed just. However, there was a great leader of my people, Selvar Dragat Indren. He said:'God has extirpated our oppressors, because they were evil. We have been spared, but we must not imitate their wrongdoing. We must neither murder nor enslave those over whom we now have dominion. There are islands off our new shore; let them go to those islands and live as they wish!' And so that remnant of the people of the empire was permitted to make boats and to sail away to those islands. No further blood was shed and, in our realm and those about it, slavery has been forever forbidden."
"What happened to those people?"
"Oh, they live yet on the islands; on the five islands off the south coast of Rockall and on Vragansarat and its lesser islands--a whole string of islands. We have no contact or trade with them and they have never troubled us; no, not in all these long years. Sometimes we glimpse their ships at a distance; that is all. With our oppressors gone, we peoples of Rockall resumed our old lives in freedom. New realms arose--Barodda and Fachane to the west of us, Arcturus and Salastre to the east, and a tangle of little kingdoms to the north, some eventually giving birth to the greater kingdom of Temecula. When we are in Sandarro I will chart them for you."
"Yes, I'd welcome that," I responded. "My tutor showed me maps of High and Low Germany and of the Holy Land, so I have some skill in reading them."
"Yes indeed," Avran responded seriously. "You must learn how our lands relate to each other, but you must learn also about how my own land came to attain its particular governance. For indeed, even in Rockall, Sandastre is unique."
"Please do," I responded bravely; though, as Avran said, it was early in the day for such concentrated instruction.
"Now, in Sandastre when the empire collapsed," Avran resumed, "there were forty-five vardai, forty-five great families of persons sharing a common kinship and name. The question was, which should rule? Well, Selvar Dragat Indren was certainly our greatest leader. He might have established a kingdom for Indravard in perpetuity, but he would not. Instead, he would take only the title of eslef, of prince; and he ordered that the title should pass through his sons and their descendents only while the direct male line lasted."
"But what happened when that line did end? Were there not great arguments?"
"Not at all. Selvar Dragat had set up a Ruling Council, made up of the leaders of the forty-five vardai. Its tasks were to advise him and, when his line failed, to choose which vard should become the next gard--the next Royal house. When the line of Selvar Dragat ended, the Orexins were chosen, Orexavard becoming Orexagard; when Orexagard failed, the Lednarens were voted the throne--Lednagard. And so the rule has passed from family to family, with no vard permitted to hold the throne twice until that distant time shall come when all forty-five families have, in their turn, ruled."
All this sounded admirable indeed, but I could not see how it had been made to work. "But Avran, what would happen if a ruler decided that he wanted to change the system? If he had royal power, how would you stop him?"
"Simon, you must understand that an eslef is not a king. He governs only with the consent of the Ruling Council. That Council makes the laws; the eslef must govern within the laws. Your king has a parliament, but he may call it or dismiss it at his will; his power is absolute. And so it is in Fachane and Temecula, for they have a dakheslef, a king with great powers. So it was in Barodda. Yet never has it been so in Sandastre. In our land, the authority of the ruler is strictly circumscribed. If he should turn to evil, his reign, and the rule of his gard, would be ended. When the Marrecs turned to evil ways, Marexagar was deposed. Thus it should always be."
"It seems an excellent system," I said seriously, remembering the wars of succession that had torn England asunder, family against family and brother against brother, for so long.
"So I think; yet there are those that wish to subvert it. The Ranverems, for example. They are the most powerful vard, with many relatives inside and outside Sandastre. Ranverems hold the throne of Temecula and there are many of that vard in Barodda. Yet it chanced that, when Ranverevard became gard, they held power for two years only. Breldnett Ranverem and his sons rashly took ship together--we Sandastrians distrust the sea, and how wisely!--and, when their ship was wrecked on a rock, all were drowned. So now the Ranverems urge that the laws be altered, so their vard might again rule. Yet I do not think the Ranverems would conspire with the Baroddans."
Avran paused again; but by then I was deeply interested. "Please go on," I urged him. "Are the Ranverems not the only threat to your family's rule?"
"Not so. The Ranverems are a numerous clan, but the Grassads are yet more numerous in Sandastre--indeed, they are the largest of the vardai. Yet Grassavard has never ruled, for it is distrusted. Properly so, in my view, for its leaders desire to be, not eslevei, but dakheslevei; not princes with limited powers, but kings with absolute powers. They argue: 'We are many, while some vardai--Lednavard, Argravard--are few. It is not right that great Grassavard should hold only one position in the Ruling Council, when even tiny Lednavard holds as many!' And their claim is persuasive; many believe it just. They do not perceive the wisdom of Selvar Dragat's design, that the power and greed of large vardai should be counterweighted by the votes of the smaller ones."
"And where does Barodda fit in?"
"Well, that story is long also, so I shall tell it only in part. If one is successful, it is often one's nearest neighbours who are most envious and most likely to be one's enemies. So it is with Sandastre. Our realm has been strong; never has it been conquered since the empire fell. Throughout that long time, our most constant enemies have been the Arctorrans, to the east, and the Baroddans to the west. Our wars with each have been many and, with both together, several. Yet, though again and again we have been victorious in those wars, we did not try to seize either land or even to exact indemnity or tribute from them in defeat."
"Why not?" I asked surprisedly. "Surely, to the victor go the spoils!"
"Ah, but we have remembered always the wisdom of Selvar Dragat. If it is wrong to enslave a man, then it is quite as wrong to conquer or pillage a realm."
"So that, even when unjustly attacked, your people have never felt need for vengeance? That is remarkable."
Avran sighed. "Never did we do so till just a century ago: and the wrong done to us then was beyond even our forgiveness. The King of Barodda, Saiondar III of cursed memory, invited Prince Laidnar IV Vesprassad and his fine sons to a feast and, although their host, murdered them. He thought he might conquer Sandastre by this infamy and by invading without declaration of war; but he did not. Swiftly the Ruling Council chose my own vard, the Estantesecs, as gard. My great-grandfather Vindicon I Estantesec, helped by the King of Fachane who was properly appalled by such treacherous slaying of guests, defeated him and led their armies into Barodda. The northern Baroddan faraslevatai or, as you would style them, earldoms of Aldagard and Darrinnett were annexed to Fachane. South Barodda, which we call Breveg, became a new faraslevat and was entrusted to Vindicon's eldest son, my grandfather. Thereafter each eldest son has been Earl of Breveg before succeeding as Prince of Sandastre; my eldest brother is now its ruler. In the same fashion, I understand, the son of your King of England is made Prince of Wales. Be sure that Breveg is quite as difficult to rule as Wales!"
"But I don't understand. If the Baroddans hate Sandastre so much, would they not try to kill you? Why need they be prompted by others? Why are you so sure the Grassads are involved--or the Ranverems, maybe, if they also want to see the rule of your family ended?"
"Well, of course their idea is that we should blame the Baroddans. But you see"--he grinned--"in Baroddan eyes, I'm not an important person. Not so important that they would send assassins after me, so expensively and so far, all the way across these dreadful seas to England. My father, now, as ruling prince--yes, the Baroddans might like to kill him, if they could; or my brother, who rules Breveg presently. Yes, brother Helburnet is a just ruler and kind, but he is not Baroddan; there are many who would like to see him die. Indeed, when my other brother was murdered, he was travelling in Barodda."
Avran stopped and sighed: quite evidently, the memory was still grievous to him. When he spoke again, however, it was with an attempt at lightness.
"But little me--why should I concern them so much that they pursue me so far? Neither do I have power, nor am I seeking it; and certainly I am no great or famous warrior. Were I in Barodda--yes, they might seek to slay me; and indeed, if my father and brother and I were all to die, then Estantegard would lose the throne. Yet there are plenty of other vardai to provide successors. To a Baroddan, one Sandastrian ruler is just as undesirable as another. Only the Grassads or the Ranverems would truly gain from a change in the ruling family, unless...."
He paused. "I had not thought of that. Why, of course....I was thinking that our two late friends were merely hired killers....But you are right; either the Grassads or the Ranverems --not both vardai, for they would not work in double harness--may have made some deal with the Baroddans. Freedom for Breveg, perhaps, in exchange for help in gaining the throne of Sandastre. If the Grassads gained power, or if the Ranverems seized power again, they would never relinquish it; no, not they! Sandastre would become just a kingdom, like Fachane or Temecula; all our freedoms would be lost...."
His voice dwindled away. His usually merry face had become solemn. Clearly he was thinking hard and anxiously.
I was too interested to let the conversation end thus. "Yet how were they able to arrange these attempts on your life? How did the assassins find you? And, if I might ask the question without embarrassment--don't answer if you'd rather not--why did you travel all the way across these stormy seas to England anyway? You do not seem to me altogether a joyful sailor--you've been quite as ill as I, these last few days!"
He grimaced, then replied wrily: "You are correct, friend Simon-painfully correct. No doubt others might find such voyaging delightful and healthful, but not I! Once I am again safe on the good, stable shores of Rockall, be sure I shall never more cross these dreadful seas that forever pitch, and toss, and heave!"
I laughed at this and Avran smiled in response. Then he continued: "As for my purpose, it need not be secret from you. Indeed, having seen my burden, you may have guessed it. You English have won many wars in the last hundred years, in part because of courage and good leaders, I doubt not, but also because of your particular weapon--the long-bow--and the skill of those who wield it. We of Rockall have bows and arrows, yes, but only smaller ones. Our arrows are suitable for the shooting of birds and small animals for food, but they will not pierce the armour of a warrior. We did not know how to make long-bows, what wood to use, how best to string or how to wield so powerful a weapon.
"So, at my suggestion, the Ruling Council sent me to England. My particular task was to learn how long-bows are constructed and to bring back examples, fabricated from different woods, for examination. The decision was taken suddenly, while a vessel from Mentone was actually moored at our quays. It was not noised abroad, but since Draklin Grassad and Seld Ranverem are both members of the Council, their vardai would be informed immediately of my voyage. Indeed, I recall now my father's surprise when Draklin Grassad spoke in favour of my idea; the Grassads usually oppose his schemes."
"So the Grassads are likeliest to have set those assassins on your trail," I interjected.
"Yes indeed, though I cannot be certain. Mayhap it is fortunate the ship was sailing so soon. My fellow travellers on that voyage were all from Fachane; there were none from Sandastre or from Barodda. If any enemies hadbeen voyaging with me, I might never have reached your city of Bristol, for I was very sick and as helpless as a child, with no obliging Englishman to watch over me! Yet, of course, there have been other ships from Rockall since, two at least from Mentone and one from some other land not known to me. It must have been on one of those ships that the Baroddans came to Bristol in pursuit of me."
"Yet, if they came on later ships, how did they contrive to find you in England?"
"Why, that was not difficult. Wherever I might go, I had to return to Sandastre on a Mentonese ship, and their ships sail only from Bristol. The man whose sword you keep had ample time to hire those three dock-rats and set them to watch for me. That second assassin, perhaps even now swimming back to England, must have been ready to act if the first should fail."
"Well, both did fail," I commented comfortingly, for my friend was evidently disturbed at the recollection of how greatly he had been in peril. "What of your quest, though?"
"It went well enough. I spent more than a month in travelling around England and learning the art of the long-bow. Of course, most of your young men were off to fight for the king or for the rebel Henry Percy--and, against such a king, who would not rebel? Yet I found many bowyers and fletchers, willing to show me the woods that could be used and how the bows and arrows were constructed; and I encountered many old archers, happy to earn their ale by teaching me to shoot with the bows I had made."
He sighed."Yet, in an important way, I failed. I know how to make such bows now, and the arrows also, but I am not sufficiently skilled in the use of the long-bow to teach it. I had hoped to find some archer who would travel back to Sandarro with me; but I did not succeed. All the archers whom I approached were wedded and settled or, if single, fearing the ocean even more than I! Some sons of nobles proved more venturesome but alas! they were not archers."
I cocked my head and looked at Avran hesitantly. "Well, as for using a bow, I'm reasonably sound at that; and I believe I might train archers. However, you see, I'm on--well, a sort of a quest...." I hesitated again and stopped.
Avran looked at me alertly. "Ah, indeed!" he said. "I had thought you were merely in flight--a fugitive, perhaps, after the Percy's fall, or a victim of the anger of your King Henry."
"Well, yes; in a way I am--a fugitive from the king, I mean. Yet that is not the whole reason...." So long had I been keeping my purpose to myself that, even now, I was finding it hard to divulge them.
Avran reached out his right arm and clasped me about the shoulder. "Simon, I have said already that I am deeply in your debt and forever your friend. I shall be glad, indeed I am eager, to assist you in any way that is within my power. Please trust me. Please tell me what it is that you desire to do, what you aim to attain, in our land of Rockall."
At his warmth, my heart seemed to respond in a fashion that I had not experienced hitherto, save in the company of my father and brother. I had found pleasure in the affection with which, as I knew, John Stacey and old Walter had regarded me and had done my best to repay it; but I had never enjoyed a close friendship with anyone of my own age and class. Now I knew that I had at last found such a friend. That knowledge gave me great joy.
"I'm sorry--I've been keeping my own counsel for so long that it has become a habit. Well, matters transpired like this--" and forthwith I plunged into an account of my recent doings. Once I had begun, words tumbled out at such a pace that poor Avran must have had trouble in following my story. Yet he managed well, laughing aloud at the tale of my cousin's discomfiture and smiling sympathetically when I told of my relief at being rid of horse, helmet and gambeson. Nevertheless, at the end of my story, he appeared very much disquieted.
"Of course you must seek your father and brother," he said. "You have accepted your father's challenge and you must prove to him your quality--a quality of which I have no doubt. Yet--my friend, how shall you set about it? Rockall is large--much larger than Britain, I think. And it forms not one kingdom, as does England all the way to the Scottish border, but many smaller realms--and with wild lands between. This land that you seek--what was it? Ah yes, Lyonesse....Of it I have never heard, though perhaps my father or his advisers may be better informed. However, since I know nothing of it, Lyonesse cannot be at all close to Sandastre--or to Fachane, where this vessel will stop also. Perhaps it might be close to Angmering, the capital of these Mentonese, but they will not carry you to Angmering."
"Then what must I do?" I asked rather helplessly. "Where should I go?"
That Rockall might be a greater island than Britain, I had never even guessed. Hitherto I had thought my task would be easy, once I had crossed the ocean to Rockall; but Avran's words forced me to a recognition of the true magnitude of my quest.
"Well, I am quite sure that, from Sandarro, you must travel northward. North and west perhaps; north and east, maybe; but certainly northward. Beyond the southern hills of our land and beyond the plains where the Montariotan riders roam, there are said to be great forests. I have heard that, in their glades, many English and French knights have built castles and set up little realms. Perhaps, somewhere in those forests, you will find that land of Lyonesse--I do not know."
These further words cheered me considerably. "Then my task may not be so great, after all!"
"Yet it will assuredly prove hazardous. Even in crossing those mountains and those plains, you will face many perils; and there will be perils also amid the forests. How will you survive on such a journey if, as you say, you are not expert with the sword? With bow and knives, yes; but how will you withstand the sudden ambush, the onrush of attackers? Moreover, you do not know any of our languages. I can speak English, yes, but the only others able to do so, even in Sandastre, are my elder brother, my sister and four, perhaps five others. Between Sandarro and the forests you will meet none that speak it, unless you are very fortunate. How will you ask your way? How will you obtain food and drink, even?"
These further observations were depressing indeed and, unfortunately, I had to recognize them as entirely apposite. My face must have again fallen, for Avran gave me another brief hug, this time of encouragement.
"I think you will need a companion on your adventure," he said, "and me, I shall be blithe to go with you. I have not seen enough of our island. It will gratify me greatly to have good cause for travelling northward and seeing the grasslands and the great forests. Merely, to hang around the castle of Sandarro, awaiting a Grassad dagger between my shoulders and without the defence of your well-aimed missiles, would be tiresome and tedious....Yes, if you will accept me as your companion, I shall go with you!"
I was overwhelmed. "Oh Avran, I would be truly delighted to have your company. Yet your father the Prince, your family; will they permit you to venture into such danger?"
He grinned. "They do not usually prevent me from doing what I wish-though sometimes they try! Yet I think that, by your leave, we should not propose the matter to them immediately. It would be well if you learned something, at least, of our language. Sandastrian is not the only Rockalese tongue, by any means, but it is widely spoken. Moreover, you should learn our ways a little. Our food and drink, our customs and our courtesies, they are very different from those of England. You must learn also to ride the sevdru and fight with the sasayin. So many things will be new for you! The hospitality of the Estantesecs is yours; assuredly you must be our guest while you prepare properly for your quest. When you are ready to set forth, then I shall discuss the matter with my father and family!"
I could perceive how very sensible were these proposals. Moreover, they would afford me a welcome respite. Now that I had learned so much from my new friend, I was beginning to understand how ill-equipped I was for the venture upon which I had embarked. Indeed, the thought of that vast, unknown island was forbidding. Even though it might take time, it was essential that I be better prepared. A knight who enters a tourney, knowing neither its rules nor even how to wield his weapons properly, may be valiant but certainly he is very foolish.
"Very well, Avran. I am sure that you're right. I shall accept your hospitality with pleasure, though I fear you'll need to be very patient with me. Thank you; and, for my part, mayhap I shall be able to lend aid with your bowmanship."
"Excellent! We will prove fine partners, I am sure. Ah! now I see we have some sailors on deck at last! After so many days of enforced fasting, I am very hungry. You also, friend? Good--then we'll seek some breakfast!"
We ate well and amply. Small honey-coloured cakes, slices of a dried and spiced meat that Avran called varas, rather wizened English apples--the last apples I was to taste in many months--and beakers of a sweetened milk-like drink were set before us and dealt with swiftly. After that, pleasantly replete and bathed in the warmth of a bright sun, we both drowsed away the morning.
Our departed assailant was not missed for several hours. Both he and the Fleming had, it seemed, been almost as seasick as Avran and me during those days of the storm; and, indeed, the Fleming did not emerge from his cabin even on that bright morning. It was only toward noon that a flurry of excitement among the sailors, and the arrival of the captain from the foredeck to investigate, indicated that the vanishing of the Baroddan had at last been noticed.
Through Avran, we were both asked if we knew the missing man's whereabouts. If we had been asked whether we had seen him, we would have been made to choose between telling the truth or a falsehood. With the question phrased thus, no such choice was forced upon us. Avran, solemn and straight-faced, assured the captain that we did not know where he might be--which, by then, was true enough!
After that, the two of us walked about the decks awhile. For the first time, I began dimly to understand how a sailing ship operated; how the ropes controlled the sails, how the rudder was worked, how the ship was steered. The captain had withdrawn again from our view, but the other Mentonese sailors seemed friendly enough. The problem was that their native language was very different from Avran's and their Sandastrian vocabulary was not extensive--a few basic words only. As for Avran, he seemed unwilling to talk more about Rockall, preferring instead to cross-question me about my Hallamshire home, my father and brother and the sad debacle of Hotspur's rebellion.
Toward the afternoon's end, the breeze stiffened and the waves became choppier. The Fleming, who had briefly emerged pale-faced from his cabin, precipitately fled back again. However, the rougher seas did not trouble Avran and me. We ate a second, larger meal with enthusiastic appetite, watched the sun go down and, rolled up again in our blankets, slept well. Neither during that night nor thereafter was the earthenware pot again used, for either of its purposes!
foreword chapters 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 (more chapters will appear in the future)
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