The Knight

Because we finally did put to sea. When it happened we had been waiting so long it did not seem possible.

Most people here have never been on a ship, and some of them have never seen the sea. (Disira had not.) People in America are the same way, and it does not bother them. So there are some things I ought to explain, and one is about bread and cooking and so on. There is a stove in the galley, and the cook bakes bread for the crew when he can. But he never lights his stove in bad weather because some coals could spill out and burn the whole ship. In bad weather you get ship’s bread and cold meat. Everybody does, even the captain. In good weather the cook boils your meat in seawater to get some salt out. But any cooking he does costs firewood, and there is only so much of that. In cold weather there is no heat except for the galley stove. None. It got colder and colder as we went north up the coast. Winter was about over, but it was still cold north of Kingsdoom. I had been gone about three years with Garsecg in Aelfrice, and one year exactly with Thunrolf in Muspel. Time always runs slower in the worlds underneath Mythgarthr, but you can never be sure how much. Sometimes it is just a little slower, but sometimes it is a lot.

When I think back on those days, all the days and weeks and months after we got out of the Mountain of Fire there are two things I remember more than any of the rest. One is how bad Pouk looked after we got him out. When he was lying on the rock waiting for the leech, and later in his bed in the Round Tower. He was not what anyone would call handsome, besides being pretty small. He had a big hook nose and a big lantern jaw. His blind eye looked terrible, and his good eye was little and squinty. But he looked so pitiful when he was hurt so bad, and he was so brave about it. When Thunrolf told him he would never do anything like that to him again, he just said, “Thankee, sir. Thankee.” And shut his eyes. I never knew how much I liked him until I saw him suffering like that, hurt so bad and trying to smile. He drank too much sometimes, but I could never get mad about it like I should have.

He was with me, on and off, until Disiri and I went away. After we had gone I saw what he had meant about my being his big chance. He was important (and Ulfa was, too) just because he had been with me so much. He was Master Pouk then, and worked for the king.

The other thing that I will never forget is seeing the Isle of Glas. The sun was almost down, and I was up on the sterncastle deck talking to Kerl. I thought I saw something and borrowed his big brass telescope.

And there it was. The tall, proud trees and the waves lapping a beach of blood-colored sand. I looked and looked, and pretty soon I started to cry If I could tell you why, I would, but I ca

So those are the things. But I ought to say right here that I did not know Uri and Baki were looking for me. I had no idea, and of course my going to Muspel had made it really hard for them. They had searched the Western Trader three or four times, and had given up on it a long time before Pouk and I boarded it again.

Chapter 32. The Marshal’s Tower

“Keep your hand from your sword,” the man-at-arms behind me whispered, “and none of your cheek.” More loudly he said, “This here is Able, Master Agr.” I said, “Sir Able, sir.”

“He says he’s a knight, Master. He wanted His Grace, so I thought I’d better let you see him.”

That was what I got for not buying a proper warhorse in Forcetti. I had pla

The thin man behind the big table nodded and stroked his little mustache. He looked smart. He also looked like he did not like what he was seeing very much, meaning me. It always seemed to me that people ought to see right away that I was not really a man, just a boy that Disiri had made look like one. Only they could not. Pouk had not been able to, and neither had Kerl. Neither had Thunrolf. Now it seemed to me like I had stumbled into somebody that would.

“I am the duke’s marshal,” he said. He did not give a damn what I thought about him, and the way he talked showed it. He was telling me the facts. “I keep order among his horses, among his knights, among his servants, and among any others who happen to be here in Sheerwall.”

It did not seem like a good time to talk, so I just nodded.

“If it is needful that you speak to the duke, I will see that you gain audience. If it is not, you may speak with me. Or I will direct you to the correct person. Have you a wrong to lay before the duke’s court?”

I said, “I seek service with Duke Marder.”

“As a knight.”

“Yes. That’s what I am.”

“Really.” He smiled, and it was not a very nice smile. “From whom did you receive the accolade?”

“From the Queen of the Moss Aelf. From Queen Disiri.”

“Make your japes over wine, Able.”

“Sir Able, sir, and I’m not joking.”

“You’re a knight. We can leave the Aelfqueen out of it for the time being.”

“That’s right.”

“You have the build for it, at least. As a knight, you are an expert rider? It’s the management of the charger that distinguishes a knight from other men. I’m sure you know that.”

“It’s his honor that distinguishes a knight,” I said.

Agr sighed. “But the management of the charger is the fundamental skill of knighthood. Have you a charger?”

I started to explain, but he cut me off. “Have you funds to buy one?”

“Not enough for one I’d want.”

“I see.” He smoothed his mustache again. He probably did not know he was doing it. “Have you a manor from which you draw support? Where is it?”

I said I did not have one.

“I thought not.” Agr stood up and went over to his window to look out. “His Grace has need of fighting men. Sir Able. On what terms would you serve him?”

I had not even thought about that, or how to explain how I felt about it. After about a minute I said, “I want to be his knight, or one of them, anyway. I didn’t come to ask him for money.”

I could hear steel hitting steel outside, and Agr leaned out his window so he could see what was happening. When he turned around again he said, “No monthly stipend? Merely to cover your expenses?”

I shook my head. “I’ve got a servant, Master Agr. Pouk is his name.” When I had told Thunrolf about Pouk I called him my friend and got us in trouble. I was not going to do that again.

“I don’t pay Pouk and sometimes I can’t even feed him or get him a place to sleep. He looks out for himself then.” I thought about when I had been hurt so bad, and lying in the cable locker, how little bits of light came in through cracks and how the rats came smelling my blood. “Sometimes Pouk looks out for me too, when I can’t look out for myself,” I said. “If I were one of Duke Marder’s knights, I would be ashamed to treat him worse than Pouk treats me. If he wanted to give me something, I’d take it and say thank you. If he didn’t, I’d try to serve him better.”

That was the first time Agr looked at me like I was a real human being. He said, “That was well spoken, Sir Able. There’s a baron with the king who prattles of the Aelf in his cups. I think he’s as mad as a hare in spring, and I think you are too. But I ca

I said, “Yes, sir. I can.”

“There’s another master out there in the practice yard. His name is Master Thope. He’s master of arms, and if you address him as ‘sir,’ as you have been addressing me, he’ll break yours. Do you know what a master of arms is?”