The Knight

Id

“Gone, from what Sir Garvaon has told me, and the mules that carried them as well. We have failed.”

Garvaon said, “It wasn’t your fault, Your Lordship. You did as much as any man could.”

“I wasn’t even there. I never drew my sword, and I must tell His Majesty so.”

“I know I am to blame for your absence.” I stood as straight as I had before Master Agr. “You don’t have to say it. But if you want to, you can.”

“May,” Garvaon muttered.

“Make it as long as you like. So may your daughter. Or Sir Garvaon. Nothing any of you say will be worse than the things I’ve said to myself.”

Beel raised his shoulders and let them fall. “Id

She shook her head.

“Go on. Tell him his mismanagement has resulted in our disaster.”

“No, Father.”

“I thought not. I would invite Sir Garvaon to abuse a fellow knight who fought shoulder-to-shoulder with him, if I didn’t know him too well to imagine that he would accept my invitation. Swert? Come over here.”

The mousy-looking servingman hurried over. “Yes, Your Lordship?”

“You’re a servant, Swert. My servant.”

“Yes, Your Lordship.”

“I wish to consult you because Sir Able here also has a servant. Another servant, in addition to the beggar.”

“Yes, Your Lordship. Pouk, Your Lordship. Sir Able told me, Your Lordship.”

“This Pouk has been captured and enslaved by the Angrborn.”

“Yes, Your Lordship.”

“Sir Able sought to rescue him, and sought my help in his attempt. I gave it, and thus I have been ruined, and the errand I undertook for His Majesty has ended in failure. Sir Able is to be reviled on that account, and I feel you’re the person to do it. Coming from you, the abuse should be doubly painful. You need not fear that Sir Able will strike or stab you. Sir Garvaon and I are here to protect you, though I feel sure nothing of the kind will be needed. Proceed.”

“To—to ..,.?” The servingman looked helplessly from Beel to me and back again.

“To revile him,” Beel explained patiently. “I have no doubt you command a hundredweight of filthy names. Employ them.”

“Father ...” Id

“To—to Sir Able, Your Lordship?”

“Exactly.” Beel was adamant. “Begin, Swert.”

“Sir Able, you—you ...”

“Go on.”

The servingman gulped. “I’m sorry, Sir Able, for what’s happened, whatever it was. And—and ...”

Id

“And if you’re to blame, Sir Able, you’re a very bad man. But ... But so am I. Whatever anyone calls you, they can call me that too.”

“There,” Beel said. “Your disgrace is complete, Sir Able. You have been abused by my valet. Now cease this juvenile posturing and listen to me.”

“I will, Your Lordship.”

“I am His Majesty’s ambassador to Jotunland. Had my embassy succeeded, the credit would have been mine and mine alone. It has failed, and the blame is mine. I accept it, and I am ready to stand before King Arnthor, to report that I have lost his gifts, and to welcome whatever punishment he may decree.”

I glanced at Id

At last I said, “You’re going back, Your Lordship?”

“Yes. I had thought of remaining here with Id

“Set out for the south?”

“Yes. I’ve told you so.”

From his place in Id

I said, “You don’t expect me to come with you, I hope, Your Lordship?”

The mousy-looking servingman smiled. That smile was suppressed almost at once, but not before I had seen it.

“I really hadn’t thought about that,” Beel said, “but you’re not one of my retainers. You may do as you choose, though you would be very welcome if you chose to come with us. The horse I gave you is yours, of course. As is that helmet. What will you do?”

Uns arrived, panting and sweating. After glancing at him, I said, “I’ll try to find a mount for my servant there, My Lord.”

“We’ve none to spare now, Sir Able. So Sir Garvaon informs me. We will not have horses and mules enough, even, for our own needs.”

Garvaon nodded.

“I know that as well as he does,” I told Beel, “but the Angrborn will have plenty. I’ll get one of those for Uns, if I can.”

“You’re going after them alone?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

Uns, bowed already by his deformity bowed lower still. “Not ‘zacly aw ‘lone, Ya Lordship, sar. I’ll be holdin’ Sar Abie’s stirrup, sar.”

“Alone except for this—this hunchback?”

Mani sprang to my shoulder, an astonishing leap.

“I’ll have my cat too, I think, My Lord, and the charger you gave me. My dog’s still looking for Pouk, but he might come back. I hope so, and the Angrborn will find him harder to handle next time. The friends I described to you last night will be with me too, at least some of the time.”

Id

Beel drew a deep breath. “If my daughter’s arms weren’t around you, Sir Able, my own would be. No doubt you prefer hers, but do you really believe we stand a chance?”

“We,’ My Lord?”

“I am a baron of the realm, entitled to a seat at the king’s high table. They may say in Thortower that I failed, but they shall not say that I was bested in courage by a cripple.”

“Then I do, My Lord. I listened to you. Will you listen to me, if I stop the juvenile posturing?”

Beel nodded.

“We talk about the Angrborn as if they were as big as a tower, or as tall as a ship’s mainmast. I was told once by a good friend that I’d be shocked anytime I saw one.”

I had decided to lie, and not to lie by halves, either. “All right, I was. But I was shocked at how small they were. They’re no bigger, compared to Sir Garvaon and me, than we would be to boys. We call them giants and Frost Giants, and we say they’re the Sons of Angr. But they’re just big, ugly men.”

“Brave words.”

“When it’s brave deeds we need. I understand.” I took Mani off my shoulder, petted him, and set him down. “I need a number for them, so I’m taking thirteen. It may be off, but I won’t argue now. We were taken by surprise last night by thirteen big men. Even so, we fought, and we killed about a third.”

Beel nodded again.

“Sir Garvaon and I weren’t there for the first part of that fight, and I’d like to think it would have made a big difference if we had been.”

Garvaon said, “I’m as eager for this as you are, but let’s not forget we’ve lost some men ourselves.”

“I know it. I’ll get to that in a minute. First I want to ask what would happen if things were turned around. What if we were to catch those nine big men off guard?”

No one spoke.

“I’m asking you, My Lord, but everybody else, too. I’m asking Lady Id

At last Uns said, “I fit Org, sar. Wid me bare hands I done it.”

“And alone. I know. I know what happened to you, too. Would you fight again?”

“If ya do, Sar Able, sar.”

“That’s all I can ask.” I stopped to think things over. “When I came, Lady Id

“My maids? Certainly not.”