The Worm Ouroboros by Eric Rücker Eddison (e book reader online .TXT) 📖

of her little martlet that first found

it for us. The tarn was frozen and ‘twas tricky work diving and most

villanous cold. It is small marvel thou’rt a lucky man in thine

undertakings, O Juss, when thou hast such an art to draw thy friends

to second thee.”

 

“I thought thou’dst not leave me,” said Juss.

 

“Thought?” cried Brandoch Daha. “Didst ever dream I’d suffer thee to

do thy foolishness alone? Nay, I’ll come first to the enchanted lake

with thee, and let be Carcë i’ the meantime. Howbeit I’ll do it

‘gainst the stream of my resolution quite.”

 

Now was but six days more of preparation, and on the second day of

April was all ready in Lookinghaven for the sailing of that mighty

armament: fifty and nine ships of war and five ships of burthen and

thrice two thousand fighting men.

 

Lady Mevrian sat on her milk-white mare overlooking the harbour where

the ships all orderly rode at anchor, shadowy gray against the

sun-bright shimmer of the sea, with here and there a splash of colour,

crimson or blue or grass-green, from their painted hulls or a beam of

the sun glancing from their golden masts or figureheads. Gro stood at

her bridle-rein. The Galing road, winding down from Havershaw Tongue,

ran close below them and so along the sea-shore to the quays at

Lookinghaven. Along that road the hard earth rang with the tramp of

armed men and the tramp of horses, and the light west wind wafted to Gro

and Mevrian on their grassy hill snatches of deep-voiced battle-chants

or the galloping notes of trumpet and pipe and the drum that sets men’s

hearts a-throb.

 

In the van rode the Lord Zigg, four trumpeters walking before him in

gold and purple. His armour from chin to toe shone with silver,

andjewels blazed on his gorget and baidrick and the hilt of his long

straight sword. He rode a black stallion savage-eyed with ears laid

back and a tail that swept the earth. A great company of horse

followed him, and half as many tall spearmen, in russet leatherjerkins

plated with brass and silver. “These,” said Mevrian, “be of Kelialand

and the shore-steads of Arrowfirth, and his own vassalage from

Rammerick and Amadardale. That is Hesper Golthring rideth a little

behind him on his right hand; he loveth two things in this world, a

good horse and a swift ship. He on the left, he o’ the helm of dull

silver set with raven’s wings, so long of the leg thou’dst say if he

rode a little horse he might straddle and walk it: Styrkmir of

Blackwood. He is of our kin; not yet twenty years old, yet since

Krothering Side accounted one of our ablest.”

 

So she showed him all as they rode by, Peridor of Sule, captain of the

Mealanders, and his nephew Stypmar. Fendor of Shalgreth with Emeron

Galt his young brother that was newly healed from the great wound

Corinius gave him at Krothering Side; these leading the shepherds and

herdsmen from the great heaths north of Switchwater, who will hold by

the stirrup and so with their light bucklers and little brown swords

go into battle with the horsemen full gallop against the enemy.

Bremery in his ram’s-horn helm of gold and broidered surcoat of

scarlet velvet, leading the dalesmen from Onwardlithe and

Tivarandardale. Trentmar of Scorradale with the northeastern levies

from Byland and the Strands and Breakingdale. Astar of Rettray, lean

and lithe bony-faced, gallant-eyed, white of skin, with bright red

hair and beard, riding his lovely roan at the head of two companies of

spearmen with huge iron-studded shields: men from about Drepaby and

the southeastern dales, landed men and home-men of Lord Goldry

Bluszco. Then the island dwellers from the west, with old Quazz of

Dalney riding in the place of honour, noble to look on with his snowy

beard and shining armour, but younger men their true leaders in war:

Melchar of Strufey, great-chested, fierce-eyed, with thick brown

curling hair, horsed on a plunging chestnut, his byrny bright with

gold, a rich mantle of creamy silk brocade flung about his ample

shoulders, and Tharmrod on his little black mare with silver byrny and

bats-winged helm, he that held Kenarvey in fee for Lord Brandoch Daha,

keen and ready like an arrow drawn to the barbs. And after them the

Westmark men, with Arnund of By their captain. And after them, four

hundred horse, not to be surpassed for beauty or ordered array by any

in that great army, and young Kamerar riding at their head, burly as a

giant, straight as a lance, apparelled like a king, bearing on his

mighty spear the pennon of the Lord of Krothering.

 

“Look well on these,” said Mevrian as they passed by. “Our own men of

the Side and Thunderfirth and Stropardon. Thou may’st search the wide

world and not find their like for speed and fire and all warlike

goodliness and readiness to the word of command. Thou look’st sad, my

lord.”

 

“Madam,” said Lord Gro, “to the ear of one that useth, as I use, to

consider the vanity of all high earthly pomps, the music of these

powers and glories hath a deep underdrone of sadness. Kings and

governors that do exult in strength and beauty and lustihood and rich

apparel, showing themselves for awhile upon the stage of the world and

open dominion of high heaven, what are they but the gilded summer fly

that decayeth with the dying day?”

 

“My brother and the rest must not stay for us,” said the lady. “They

meant to go aboard as soon as the army should be come down to the

harbour, for their ships be to sail out first down the firth. Is it

determined indeed that thou goest with them on this journey?”

 

“I had so determined, madam,” answered he. She was beginning to move

down towards the road and the harbour, but Gro put a hand on the rein

and stopped her. “Dear lady,” he said, “these three nights together I

have dreamed a dream: a strange dream, and all the particulars thereof

betokening heavy anxiety, increase of peril, and savage mischief;

promising some terrible issue. Methinks if I go on this journey thou

shalt see my face no more.”

 

“O fie, my lord,” cried she, reaching him her hand, “give never a

thought to such fond imaginings. ‘Twas the moon but glancing in thine

eye. Or if not, stay with us here and cheat Fate.”

 

Gro kissed her hand, and kept it in his. “My Lady Mevrian,” he said,

“Fate will not be cheated, cog we never so wisely. I do think there be

not many extant that in a noble way fear the face of death less than

myself. I’ll go o’ this journey. There is but one thing should turn me

back.”

 

“And ‘tis?” said she, for he fell silent on a sudden.

 

He paused, looking down at her gloved hand resting in his. “A man

becometh hoarse and dumb,” said he, “if a wolf hath the advantage

first to eye him. Didst thou procure thee a wolf to dumb me when I

would tell thee? But I did once; enough to let thee know. O Mevrian,

dost thou remember Neverdale?”

 

He looked up at her. But Mevrian sat with head erect, like her

Patroness divine, with sweet cool lips set firm and steady eyes fixed

on the haven and the riding ships. Gently she drew her hand from

Gro’s, and he strove not to retain it. She eased forward the reins.

Gro mounted and followed her. They rode quietly down to the road and

so southward side by side to the harbour. Ere they came within earshot

of the quay, Mevrian spake and said, “Thou’lt not think me graceless

nor forgetful, my lord. All that is mine, O ask it, and I’ll give it

thee with both hands. But ask me not that I have not to give, or if I

gave should give but false gold. For that’s a thing not good for thee

nor me, nor I would not do it to an enemy, far less to thee my

friend.”

 

Now was the army all gotten ashipboard, and farewells said to Volle

and those who should abide at home with him. The ships rowed out into

the firth all orderly, their silken sails unfurled, and that great

armament sailed southward into the open seas under a clear sky. All

the way the wind favoured them, and they made a swift passage, so that

on the thirtieth morning from their sailing out of Lookinghaven they

sighted the long gray cliff-line of Impland the More dim in the low

blown spray of the sea, and sailed through the Straits of Melikaphkhaz

in column ahead, for scarce might two ships pass abreast through that

narrow way. Black precipices shut in the straits on either hand, and

the sea-birds in their thousands whitened every little ledge of those

cliffs like snow. Great flights of them rose and circled overhead as

the ships sped by, and the air was full of their plaints. And right

and left, as of young whales blowing, columns of white spray shot up

continually from the surface of the sea. For these were the stately-winged gannets fishing that sea-strait. By threes and fours they flew,

each following other in ordered line, many mast-heights high; and ever

and anon one checked in her flight as if a bolt had smitten her, and

swooped head-foremost with wings half-spread, like a broadbarbed dart

of dazzling whiteness, till at a few feet above the surface she

clapped close her wings and cleft the water with a noise as of a great

stone cast into the sea. Then in a moment up she bobbed, white and

spruce with her prey in her gullet; rode the waves a minute to rest

and consider; then with great sweeping wing-strokes up again to resume

her flight.

 

After a mile or two the narrows opened and the cliffs grew lower, and

the fleet sped past the red reefs of Uaimnaz and the lofty stacks of

Pashnemarthra white with sea-gulls on to the blue solitude of the

Didornian Sea. All day they sailed southeast with a failing wind. The

coastline of Melikaphkhaz fell away astern, paled in the mists of

distance, and was lost to sight, until only the square cloven outline

of the Pashnemarthran islands broke the level horizon of the sea. Then

these too sank out of sight, and the ships rowed on south-eastward in

a dead calm. The sun stooped to the western waves, entering his bath

of blood-red fire. He sank, and all the ways were darkened. All night

they rowed gently on under the strange southern stars, and the broken

waters of that sea at every oar-stroke were like fire burning. Then

out of the sea to eastward came the day-star, ushering the dawn,

brighter than all night’s stars, tracing a little path of gold along

the waters. Then dawn, filling the low eastern skies with a fleet of

tiny cockle-shells of bright gold fire; then the great face of the sun

ablaze. And with the going up of the sun a light wind sprang up,

bellying their sails on the starboard tack; so that ere day declined

the sea-cliffs of Muelva hung white above the spray-mist on their

larboard bow. They beached the ships on a white shell-strand behind a

headland that sheltered it from the east and north. Here the barrier

of cliffs stood back a little from the shore, giving place for a

fertile dell of green pasture, and woods clustering at the foot of the

cliffs, and a little spring of water in the midst.

 

So for that night they slept on board, and next day made their camp,

discharging the ships