Authors: Kim Hunter
Chapter Twenty-One
Soldier told his host and hostess that they were on a quest to find a wizard who would cure his wife and the queen of their madness. Cresside said it was commendable that he should take on such a quest, when there were such dangers to travellers in these dark times of a dying King Magus. Caezor added his praise to hers, saying he hoped he would do the same for his wife, should she ever come under a similar spell. But eat, eat, Caezor encouraged them. And you, Spagg, what is it you do . . .? Try as they could the two guests could not get food into their mouths. Each time they raised the fork to their lips they were asked yet another question, which they felt bound by politeness and etiquette to answer. Yet it seemed that their hosts were feeding themselves very well. The meat and vegetables were disappearing from the plates on the table at a very fast rate. Finally, Spagg could stand it no longer and he ignored Caezors latest question in order to fill his mouth full of meat, potatoes and bread. He crammed as much in as his cheeks would hold, much to the consternation of his disapproving hosts, who stared at him in revulsion. Sir! cried the lady. Soldier was glad of the interruption. He too managed to chew and swallow a few bites, while the lord and his lady were engaged with being offended by Spaggs manners. The meal progressed but it was hard work feeding himself while trying to answer an endless stream of questions, and at the end of it all Soldier did not feel satisfied. Spagg too confessed under his breath to be inadequately fed. However, they could hardly complain, even though the wine jugs had passed them by two or three times while their cups remained empty, going between husband and wife, but failing to halt or even pause in front of the guests. The hosts seemed oblivious of this poor behaviour and the guests were too embarrassed to be outraged. Come and see my gold room, cried Caezor, as the pair tried to wipe their trenchers with some bread to get the last few drops of dripping fat. Come come dont stand on ceremony. Follow me. They were urged to their feet by a hostess who practically pulled the chairs out from under them. Hurried along passageways and past other rooms, they were finally pushed into a chamber full of glass bottles, brass instruments and measuring sticks of all kinds. Their host gave them a passing acquaintance with the art of alchemy, but said that of course he could not tell them how to turn base metals into gold, because the secret had to remain with the few. Whats this in ere? said Spagg, picking up a dark green bottle and staring at the contents. Hemlock. Spagg put it down and picked up another more viscous, rolling fluid. And this one? Quicksilver. And what about this? Spagg held up a medium-sized bottle. Clearly Caezor was becoming impatient with Spagg. The alchemist was wanting to impress his visitors, but he wanted to ask the questions as well as answer them. He waved an irritated hand in front of Spaggs face. Pure alcohol, he snapped. Nothing exotic. Now this is very rare, he said, picking up a bottle made of lapis lazuli and showing it to Soldier. Its musk oil. What do you do with it? asked Soldier. Why, I use it as a perfume, replied Caezor, uncorking the bottle and sprinkling a few drops in his beard. It helps attract the deer during the hunt. Spagg had been quietly sniffing and examining the bottle of alcohol behind his hosts back. Soldier saw him in a bronze mirror in the act of replacing the stopper. Soldier could not help noticing that when Spagg put back the bottle on its shelf there was less in it than when he had picked it up. Considerably less. Look, Im done in, said Spagg, staggering down the passageway afterwards. So tired I cant walk straight. Caezor frowned, clearly suspecting something, but not being able to guess what had occurred. Perhaps youd both better get some sleep in a proper bed with sheets and blankets, he told them. Ill ask my wife to show you to your rooms. Although the house had looked like a one-storey building from the outside, it was indeed two. Spagg was given a room on the first landing, where everyone tramped by on their way to the wooden garderobe at the head of the timber staircase. Soldier was shown to a fine chamber in the middle of the house while Spagg was left to his rest. The lady smoothed down Soldiers sheets for him, then stared at him with doe eyes as he shuffled his feet and wondered when she was going to go. My lady, he said, after a long while, I would like to rest my head, if you would be so kind. Yes, she replied, simply, still standing there. But but I cannot if you remain in the room. She raised her eyebrows. Why not? It would be improper. I cant think why, she replied, brusquely. However, if it upsets you to look upon me ... No, no, your form is divine. I have seen no lovelier lady since I left my wife behind in Zamerkand. Its just that well, I dont think she would approve. Nor, I imagine, would your husband. We are bare acquaintances, my lady, and not even close friends. Please, I would prefer to wash myself in that bowl over there without being scrutinized. She shrugged, either mystified or put out. If you insist. Then she left the room. There lingered in the air the tantalising scent of musk. He remembered that he had first met this lady as a hind. Soldier sighed. He went to the basin on the bench and poured some water from a jug. This he splashed on his face with his hands. Then, after carefully locking the door, he undressed and climbed into the bed. Soon he was warm and snug and fell fast asleep. He awoke some time later to the singing of his scabbard and sat bolt upright in bed, wondering where he had put his sword. The lord of the manor was entering the room. There was also someone lying asleep beside Soldier. He turned, alarmed to see the lords wife, Cresside, curled up with her head on the pillow next to his. He quickly threw the blankets over her sleeping form and sat up to hide that side of the bed from view. Time you were up, cried the alchemist from the doorway. I shall take you hunting stag tonight! Ill see you in the hall in one hour. Soldier sat there, stupefied, as Caezor marched off again, along the passageway. Soldier pulled back the covers again. Brown locks cascaded over the pillows at the top of the bed, framing a pretty countenance. A slim, pale arm, at the shoulder of which was a bandage, lay across Soldiers lap. A soft, white breast was half-exposed above the sheets, while its twin companion rose and fell beside it to the rhythm of Gressides soft breathing. Something silky with a leg inside it pressed against Soldiers thigh. He was mortified. Had his host had seen him in bed with his wife? Thank the gods he had not done anything. What are you thinking of? He looked down at where the words came from. She was awake. Her large moist eyes regarded him with some puzzlement. My wife. How sweet of you. She sat up and yawned coquettishly, allowing her silk nightdress to fall forward and expose her upper body. Soldier groaned and looked away. Did we? he began. That is how did you get into my bed without my scabbard warning me? Oh, your singing scabbard? I heard its song. You must have been so fast asleep it could not wake you. So fast asleep, he said, thankfully, therefore we merely lay side by side, without - without engaging? Without engaging what? Each other - each others affections, that is. She pouted. I was displeased about that. Theres no need to sound so proud. You did me a disservice. I could not wake you. Your manners are wanting, sir. She waved an admonishing finger playfully in his face. Im sorry, he said, jumping out of bed, happier to learn that his fidelity was intact. I did not mean to seem ungrateful for your hospitality. Spagg appeared in the doorway, watched Soldier trying to put on his hose, took in the fact that the bed was occupied by a female in a state of undress, and shook his head sadly. Trust you, he said. Cant resist a pretty face, can you? You must be mad. Its not what it seems, explained Soldier. So you say. I mean it. The lady came to my bed after I fell asleep. I had no part in it. I should be so fortunate. Perhaps one day, you will be, Spagg. Until then youve got to learn to trust me. Nothing happened between this lady and me. We were merely - merely bed companions. By the way, he said, coming closer to Spaggs ear, her husband knows nothing of this and I think he should continue in his ignorance. Im going back to my room, said Spagg, loftily. Goodnight. Soldier went down to the great hall and found his host pacing up and down. Ah, here you are. cried the big, bearded man, impatiently. Gome, come, let us go. The moon is full. I have two mounts ready for the hunt. By the by, have you seen my wife? The lady Cresside? I only have one wife. Soldier coughed. Yes, yes, of course. Now when did I last lay eyes on her ... He stalled, as if trying to recall the incident, until Caezors impatience overtook him. Well, well, never mind. Tonight we shall find ourselves a magnificent stag, what say you? Put on these furs I have for you there, you must keep warm in these midwinter conditions. With that the lord of the house strode towards the doors at the end of the hall and flung them open. Outside, under a clear sky showing a heaven rich with stars, stood a dwarf groom holding two black horses. Another dwarf stood nearby, with two crossbows in his hands. Soldier mounted one of the horses and was handed a crossbow. Caezor was already riding out, across the snow, towards a distant woodland. Soldier followed him, under the moonlight, his breath coming out as steam. It was indeed a glorious night. Foxes barked deep and hollow across the winter wastes. The ermine and his kin were out hunting voles and mice. White hares were blanks against the snowy background, only their eyes glinting in the moonlight. The air was fresh and clean. Beneath surface ice brooks bubbled and tumbled across otherwise silent moors. Ancient stones stood as snow-capped guardians of the landscape, some with symbols carved upon their faces, others virgin to mans art. Tangled trees were stark against the moon, their dark tracery like veins. Caezor rode out in front, blowing on his hunting horn. When they came up over a rise they saw a bonfire burning in the middle of a snow-covered meadow. Around this fire danced a hundred dwarfs, men and women, with children running hither and thither. The dancers wore leather caps with loose ear-flaps which slapped against the sides of their heads in a rhythmic accompaniment to their fife and log-drum musicians. Rough-looking woollen shirts covered their backs and their leggings were of the same leather as their caps. On their feet they wore enormous wooden clogs. A dwarf wedding, grunted Caezor. I hope they havent panicked the deer. The dwarfs had set up a long wooden table in the snow and this was spread with fare. Dwarfs in long aprons were hurrying to and fro with trays and platters of food and drink. At either end of the table sat a male and a female. She was dressed in a dress made of fir branches, with cones dangling from her hair, breasts and knees. He had on a stiff suit of armour which appeared to be fashioned from tree bark. Oaken branches, like antlers, protruded from the bridegrooms head. The pair had no eyes except for each other, like any bridal couple. Ho! cried Caezor, riding up. The dwarfs stopped in mid-note, in mid-dance, and looked ready to scatter. Their eyes revealed a suppressed panic. They had obviously been so busy having a good time they had not seen the riders approach. Stay, stay, Caezor ordered, dwarfs are not the quarry tonight. He let out a laugh which told Soldier that other nights were different. Tonight were after the stag. Have you seen any tracks, any spoor? Tell us and well be on our way and leave you to your cavorting and feasting. An elderly dwarf stepped forward. He had on a coat made of flour sacks with roughly-carved wooden toggles for buttons. His arm went up and he pointed with his finger. Yonder, Lord - in Mistlemus Wood. I observed with my own eyes the marks of a king stag just this very morn. I see you have one of my hares cooking on your fire amongst the platters of roasting chestnuts. The elderly dwarf glanced quickly in that direction and smiled nervously. Only a rabbit, my lord, not one of your graces hares. Ah, a rabbit! With such long ears? Well, never mind, a wedding is a wedding. Tonight you dance, tomorrow we shall hunt poachers and run them to ground. Enjoy your feast. Mistlemus Wood, my lord. I heard you. With that, Caezor rode on. Soldier stared about him at the dwarfs, who seemed to have had all the joy taken out of them. I shall do my best to persuade him it is a rabbit, he told the dwarfs. You may rest easy in your beds. They stared back at him as if he were mad. Who are you? asked the elderly dwarf. My name is Soldier. I am the lords guest. Be careful, Soldier. You know not the ways he keeps and turns and turns again. His moods are no less cryptic than his actions. He may find you for a friend now, but tomorrow may be different. Try not to give him an excuse. An excuse for what? To assuage any guilt he may feel in hunting you down. Soldier caught up with Caezor on the edge of a great dark woodland. This is Mistlemus Wood, murmured the lord. Come, let us find the tracks of the stag. The meat on the fire, said Soldier, I inspected it more closely. I do believe it to be a rabbit, not a hare. Perhaps the ears were stretched in the skinning? Caezor looked at Soldier with narrowed eyes, but said nothing on the subject. Soldier, having done his best, walked his horse along the edge of the wood and eventually found the marks. He called to the alchemist, who came at the trot. Together they followed the stags spoor, which led them up and behind the wood, past a dew-pond on the crest of a shallow hill, through a brake, and finally onto the edge of a moorland. Here they saw the mighty stag feeding on saxifrage. For a few moments both men sat in their saddles, admiring the creatures beauty. Soldier, as always, felt a pang. It seemed a great pity to kill such a fine animal. The world would be poorer, he knew, for its sudden loss. This one is mine, whispered Caezor. You may have tomorrows kill. HO! HO! yelled Caezor, galloping forward and startling the grazing deer. Up, up, up! Then the stag was off, over the moor. They gave chase in great delight. Despite not wishing to kill the beast, Soldier always got a thrill from the chase. He loved going at the gallop, with the wind rushing through his hair. There was great danger in night riding: at any moment the mount might step in a rabbit hole and throw the rider to his death. It was this danger mixed with the exhilaration of the chase that filled Soldier with excitement. Gradually they gained on the stag, until Caezor saw a chance to shoot it as it leapt high over a beck. He raised the