Lyonesse

Half an hour later four horsemen arrived at Faroli. They dismounted from their horses, to stand swaying, limp with fatigue and frustration, for already, through Never-Tail, they knew that Shimrod's wagon had gone.

A chamberlain came from the manse. "Your wishes, noble sirs?"

"A

"Your names, sir?"

"He expects us."

The chamberlain withdrew.

At one of the windows Shimrod glimpsed a moving shadow. "He watches us and listens," Shimrod told the others. "He decides which guise he will show us."

"The life of a wizard is a strange one," said Cargus.

Yane asked in wonder: "Is he ashamed of his own face?"

"Few have seen it. He has heard enough; now he comes."

Slowly, step by step, a tall man approached from the shadows. He wore a suit of silver chain, the mesh so fine as to be near-invisible, a jupon of sea-green silk, a helmet surmounted by three tall prongs, like the spines of a fish. From the brow hung a row of silver chains concealing the face below. At a distance of ten feet he halted and folded his arms. "I am Tamurello."

"You know why we are here. Call back Carfilhiot, with the two children he has kidnapped."

"Carfilhiot has come and gone."

"Then you are his accomplice and share his guilt."

From behind the chains came a low laugh. "I am Tamurello. For my deeds I accept neither praise nor blame. In any case, your quarrel is with Carhfilhiot, not with me."

"Tamurello, I have no patience for empty words. You know what I require of you. Bring Carfilhiot back, with my wagon and the two children he holds captive."

Tamurello's response came in a deeper, more resonant voice. "Only the strong should threaten."

"Empty words again. Once more: Order Carfilhiot to return."

"Impossible."

"You have expedited his escape from me; you thereby take responsibility for Glyneth and Dhrun."

Tamurello stood silent, arms folded. The four men felt his slow inspection from behind the silver chains. Finally he said. "You have delivered your message. You need not delay your going."

The four men mounted their horses and departed. At the edge of the glade they paused to look back. Tamurello had returned into the manse.

In a hollow voice Shimrod said: "So there we have it. Now we must deal with Carfilhiot at Tintzin Fyral. Temporarily at least, Glyneth and Dhrun are safe from physical harm."

Aillas asked, "What of Murgen? Will he intercede?"

"It is not so easy as you might think. Murgen constrains magicians to their own affairs, and so himself is constrained."

"I can wait no longer," said Aillas. "I am obliged to return to Troicinet. Already I may be too late, if King Ospero is dead."

Chapter 28

FROM FAROLI BACK TO ICNIELD WAY rode the four men, then south through Pomperol, and across the breadth of Lyonesse to Slute Skeme on the Lir.

At the harbor the fishermen were chary of so much as discussing passage to Troicinet. The master of the Sweet Lupus told them, "A Troice warship patrols sometimes close along the shore, sometimes out by the horizon, and sinks any hull it can catch. It is a fast ship. To make the cheese more binding, Casmir keeps spies by the dozens. Were I to make the passage, news would reach Casmir and I'd be taken as a Troice agent, and who knows what might happen? What with the old king dying, we can expect change: for the better, or so I hope."

"Then he's not dead yet?"

"The news is a week old; who can say? Meanwhile I must sail with one eye for the weather, one eye for the Troice and one eye for the fish, but never more than a mile offshore. I'd need a fortune of money to tempt me to Troicinet."

Shimrod's ear had picked up a hint that the fisherman's resolve was flexible. "How long is the crossing?"

"Oh, if one left by night, to avoid spies and patrols, he'd arrive the next night. It's a good reaching wind and the currents are mild."

"And what is your price?"

"Ten gold crowns might tempt me."

"Nine gold crowns and our four horses."

"Done. When will you leave?"

"Now."

"Too risky. And I must prepare the boat. Come back at sunset. Leave your horses at the stable yonder."

Without noteworthy incident the Sweet Lupus made a brisk crossing of the Lir and put into Shircliff, halfway along the Troice coast, two hours before midnight, with lights still showing in the dockside taverns.

The master of the Sweet Lupus tied up to the pier with a notable lack of apprehension. Cargus asked: "What of the Troice authorities? Won't they seize your boat?"

"Aha! That is a tempest in a teapot. Why should we inconvenience each other over foolishness? We stay on good terms and do favors for each other and affairs proceed as always."

"Well then, good luck to you!"

The four applied to the ostlery for horses and woke the ostler from his bed on the straw. At first he was inclined to peevishness. "Why not wait for morning like sensible men? Why this bustling about at all hours and denying honest men their sleep?" Cargus growled even more peevishly: "Hold your complaints, and provide us four sound horses!" "If I must I must. Whither go you?"

"To Domreis, at best speed."

"For the coronation? You are starting late for a ceremony which begins at noon!"

"King Ospero is dead?"

The ostler made a reverent sign. "To our sorrow, for he was a good king, free of cruelty or vain display."

"And the new king?"

"He is to be King Trewan. I wish him prosperity and a long life, since only a churl would do otherwise."

"Hurry with the horses."

"You are already too late. You will founder the horses if you hope to arrive for the coronation."

"Hurry!" cried Aillas in a passion. "Bestir yourself!"

The ostler, muttering to himself, saddled the horses and led them to the street. "And now, my money!"

Shimrod paid over his price and the ostler retired. Aillas told his fellows, "At this moment I am King of Troicinet. If we arrive at Domreis before noon I will be king tomorrow."

"And if we are late?"

"Then the crown has been set on Trewan's head and he is king. Let us be off."

The four rode west beside the coast, past quiet fishing villages and long beaches. At dawn, with the horses stumbling from fatigue, they arrived at Slaloc where they changed horses and rode through the morning toward Domreis.

The sun rose toward the zenith, and ahead the road curved down a slope, across a park to the Temple of Gaea, where a thousand notables attended the coronation.

At the edge of the temple grounds, the four were halted by a guard of eight cadets from the College of Dukes, wearing blue and silver ceremonial armor, with tall scarlet plumes at the side of their helmets. They dropped halberds to bar the way of the four travelers. "You may not enter!"

From within came the peal of clarions, a processional fanfare signaling the appearance of the king-designate. Aillas spurred his horse into motion and broke past the crossed halberds, followed by his three companions. Before them stood the Temple of Gaea. A heavy entabulature rested on columns in the classical style. The interior was open to the winds. On a central altar burned the dynastic fire. From the vantage of horseback Aillas saw Prince Trewan mount steps, walk with ritual solemnity across the terrace and kneel on a cushioned bench. Between Aillas and the altar stood the quality of Troicinet in formal caparison. Those at the back turned in outrage as the four rode up behind them. Aillas called out: "Make way, make way!" He sought to ride through the ranked nobility, but angry hands seized his bridle and jerked his horse to a halt. Aillas jumped to the ground and thrust forward, pushing the rapt and reverent onlookers roughly from his way, to their shock and disapproval.