Scabbard's Song (22 page)

the rote method the best for arithmetic, especially when accompanied by liberal use of the leather strap. There will be no beating, Ofao. Ofao gestured wildly. But Your Majesty, it is a necessary part of getting knowledge into a child. There will be no beating. That is my final word. In the meantime Musket was looking horrified. Mother, I shall burst with all that learning. If you do, youll be able to sew yourself together again, wont you, once Ofao has shown you how to use the needle. He is very deft with a needle, is our Ofao. Now off you all go. Dont forget to feed and water the prince. He must be hungry. My husband and I will eat in the great hall, where apparently I have no authority as queen and cannot tell him to eat his greens. Drissila and Ofao left with the boy, quite used to the frivolity the queen adopted at times when she was full of joy. Soldier and Layana now spent time over a meal, discussing quite trivial matters, getting to know one another again. Now, said Soldier, over a glass of wine, to more serious matters. I have the objects required by the goddess Theg, to put right your memory. With your consent I shall perform the ceremony tomorrow, at the temple. How do you feel? You have gone through great dangers and troubles to bring this cure to me, husband. I would be ungrateful now if I were to reject it. However, I am concerned. What if, when my memory returns, so does my erstwhile madness? I am assured by the priests that will not happen. In that case, we shall go ahead. They toasted the morning together. Now for my news, husband. I have to tell you that Captain Kaff has left the city with his supporters. Good riddance! But he has gone to join with Humbold and a renegade army. Soldier digested this, frowning. But I met Humbold in the Unknown Region. We were forced to weather a storm of drots together. He seemed to be heading northwards. Did he then return to the known world, while Musket and I were seeking the three objects? The queen nodded. Not only did he return, he brought with him the armies of two cities, I am told. Cities called Ut and Ged, who have never ventured this way before because of the dangerous nature of the marshes. From what I have been told, the marshes are moderately dangerous going into the Unknown Region, but are infinitely perilous coming out. Soldier was mystified. Why should this be? Cristobel, Thegs priest, informed me a while ago that those marshes were fashioned as a honey-jar trap. They were placed there by a King Magus called VoommooV long ago. In ancient years the Unknown Region was empty and no one wanted to live there because of mosquitoes, drots and other pests. VoommooV placed the marshes between the known world and the Unknown Region to attract people inside. A rumour began that there was treasure to be had beyond some marshes, which in themselves presented an irresistible challenge to adventurous men and women. The marsh, with its mile-high sheer cliffs either side and its ever-narrowing passage, allows a wide, expansive entrance. But the path back is impossible to find. Just as we make honey-jar traps for wasps where the entrance is a funnel. It not difficult for the wasp to enter the jar by means of the wide end of the funnel, but once inside, the winged creature cannot seem to find and negotiate the small end to escape. So it is with the marshes of the Unknown Region, which have an illusional funnel. This is why I have been worrying so much these past few days. I knew you had to return that way and thought you would perish attempting to find the exit. Damn that priest! He said nothing to me about this, cried Soldier, annoyed. It is well Musket and I had a magic carpet flight over these deadly swamps. He paused before asking, But how did thousands from Ut and Ged finally traverse the barrier which has, until now, kept them contained? OmmullummO removed the funnel. Soldier was confounded by such deviousness. The wizard moves in crafty ways. The cities of Ut and Ged have standing armies, are martial by nature, and have put aside their own differences in order to assist Humbold. Humbold has pledged himself to OmmullummO in the wizard wars between him and his son, IxonnoxI. We, of course, will be the opposing force and hope to defeat Humbold in his bid. Soldiers face was grim. Ut and Ged! Why, I met with the leaders of those armies, or some of them. There was a young prince amongst them I quite liked, by the name of Fabulet. It seems the two cities have been at war for years and their fighters are well-trained, experienced warriors. Humbold! He doubled back on his own tracks. What a fool I was to leave him alive. And now hes managed to persuade Ut and Ged to join him. I wonder what he has promised them. The wealth of Zamerkand? Without a doubt. Soldiers questioning eyes looked into the middle distance. His wife knew that look and asked what he was thinking. Thinking? he said. I was thinking of my oldest enemy, Drummond. I have no doubt he will be with Humbolds new army too, having pursued me here from my old world. Here we have it, all our foes ancient and contemporary - all in one basket. It is time for a reckoning. However, I must first try to make my peace with Drummond. This much I have sworn. I do not know what will happen, if I fail, for I have done him many wrongs and right is not on my side. His wrongs have been as many, and his righteousness in question also, but one of us must attempt to end this terrible feud. I would fight against our enemies for the general good, rather than in order to settle personal scores. Revenge is not a good motive for a battle: the welfare of the commonweal is a better one. As they lay in bed that night, Layana said to her husband, So now we have a son? We might have others, of our own, later. It has not happened yet and we are past our prime. Soldier hit his pillow with some force. We have been cursed, no doubt. Layana shrugged and placed a tender hand on her husbands cheek, to stroke it. Why, then, the curse has not worked, has it? For we have a son of our very own. I like him, Soldier. I will grow to love him. Certainly he is no oil painting. What? You would have me look for a boy with silken hair and perfect complexion? Shame on you, husband. It is what is inside that counts. He is very fond of you. Pah! Soldier tried to brush off the pleasure that remark gave him. He is a troublesome brat. He is nothing of the sort. He tries to please. I have seen more mischief in a dainty little golden girl with dimples in her cheeks. Give him time and love and he will make us proud. There is kingship in him. What? Soldier came up on his elbows, astounded by this observation. Kingship? King of the rodents, I would say. Fie, husband! I will not tell you again. He is our son and we will love him and cherish him. Even if it kills us, muttered Soldier, determined to have the last word. The next day Soldier went to the Temple of Theg and asked for the ancient and crusty Gristobel. Alas, sir, he is dead, remarked a noviciate. We burned his body yesterday and scattered the ashes in the temple gardens. Dead? cried Soldier. What of? The young novice blushed and moved his mouth closer to Soldiers ear. Why, sir, someone gave the old priest a purse of gold, which he spent on on painted ladies. He was very, very old to be sure to be doing that sort of thing. His ancient wrinkled heart burst in his chest while he was halfway through his pleasure. The young maid well, to be sure she was neither young nor a maid, sir she said he was killed in action, just as if he were on the battlefield and she the enemy. I I never heard the like before, sir, and doubtless will not again. His was an unhealthy lust for an elderly priest always a lewd man with every sin of lechery known to the world. He always said his blood was overheated and that he had only one way to cool it. The old devil! said Soldier, marvelling at the tale. But what am I to do without my priest? Is there another who will perform the rites for the return of the queens memory? I have artefacts in my possession which are said to guarantee the cure. Who will stand in his stead? Why, the young man said, I will do it, sir. But but you are young and without experience. If anything should go wrong . . . if my wife were to be harmed in any way . . . I would have to cut off your head. It is a simply ceremony, sir, and can be performed by anyone who has been ordained. I am not afraid. No, but I am. Have no concern. It is the objects which are important, not the priest who performs the rites. Are you a priest yet? Almost. Soldier was not convinced, but on asking further of the other priests in the temple, they told him that the novice had studied under Cristobel and was best placed to carry out the ceremony. In the end Soldier decided to trust the youth and placed the precious items in his possession. He was told he need not be a witness to the rites: in fact it were better he was not. As a layman he would not understand what mystical things were going on and might interrupt with questions at a vital time. Better he walked home, through the city, and by the time he reached the Palace of Wildflowers, his wife would be whole again. I hope so. There is no question, sir, said the novice. I shall restore her to her former self, with memories of her past. Of course, she will not remember everything she has ever done, seen or experienced, for no one does. Nor will all her memories be accurate. We choose to remember some things and forget others. We sometimes alter the truth in our minds, believing that we have the details right when we have not The queen will recall things as she used to do. Those memories she had before she was ill will come back again, no more, no less. And they will come back in their former clothes, in the way she used to remember them, whether that memory was true to the original event or not. Is that satisfactory? It sounds as if it will be as it should be. Yes, sir, said the earnest young noviciate, I think so.

Chapter Eight

It was with some trepidation that Soldier made his way home after the rites had been performed. The history of their marriage had not always been smooth the history of any marriage is never smooth unless the two people involved are brain dead and the bad memories would of course return alongside the good memories. Then, as the noviciate priest had said, there would be incomplete memories, altered memories and false memories as well. On the positive side, Layana always had the ability to surprise him. Look at the way she had received the news that she was now the mother of an adopted boy! Soldier had not expected her to take that rationally. Why should she have done? Yet her reaction had been calm and considered. She had had questions she wanted answered, naturally, but once that had been done, all had been well. As he hurried along through the streets, pondering on what might be his reception, Soldier ran into the last person he wanted to see while he was in an agitated frame of mind: Spagg. The new Keeper of the Royal Purse was dressed in his finery and accompanied by a retinue. As a very-important-person he was of course entitled to a number of staff, but why they should follow him through the streets was another matter. Many of them would be accountants and scribes: they should be in some room somewhere scribbling away at figures and letters. Soldier, cried Spagg, throwing open his arms, how good to see you, my old friend. Is it? said Soldier, avoiding the embrace with a dancing side-step. You will excuse me, I am in a desperate hurry to get to the Palace of Wildflowers. Why, cried Spagg, deftly managing to link arms with him, that is my direction exactly. I have an audience with the queen at noon. We can walk along together and talk about old times. Spaggs voice was vulgarly loud. He was trying to impress his retinue. Soldier was famed throughout Guthrum and he had many admirers. Someone who called himself Soldiers friend was also to be revered. Yet many of the weary-looking group who trudged after the Keeper of the Royal Purse had had quite enough of their new master. Soldier had been quite right: the new Brass Boss (a witty nickname invented by the royal clerks) had dragged them away from their happy scribbling. They should have been tucked away in a quiet room, sitting at a high desk, scratching quill on parchment. It was not a profession many citizens would have chosen, being considered dull and boring. But these people liked the job. It suited their personalities. They were a retiring, introverted set of men and women. To sit in a peaceful back room where the loudest noise was the plop of a split gooses feather plunging into an inkwell was for them a preferred way to pass their working day. Instead, here they were, hurrying through crowded streets, carrying armfuls of rolled parchments. They were forced to suffer the noise of rumbling ox-carts, donkeys baying, dogs barking, fishwives shrieking in their ears. There was the heavy smell of animal dung hanging in the air; the constant pestering of the professional beggars, tugging at their gowns; the rats dashing across their feet; the children playing kickball and chase-the-cockroach between their legs. It was all too much for these gentle, meek creatures with their mild manners and sensitive ears. Horrid was the word that sprang to their lips. They wanted to be out of it, but their new master had been insistent. He wished them to accompany him to the palace of the queen, and he was not a Brass Boss who liked the word no. Soldier unhooked his arm, saying to Spagg, I do not think the queen will wish to see you this morning. I am hurrying home because I believe her to be unwell. Oh? cried Spagg, looking thoroughly put out. But surely the queen would have sent out messengers, earlier in the day? She always does that before cancelling appointments. She wouldnt let us waste our valuable time going to the palace for nothing. The queen is very particular about wasting time. You must be mistaken, Soldier. Soldier grabbed Spagg by the sleeve and spun him round. Spagg, I am the queens husband. I ought to know whether she is feeling well or not. When I left her this morning . . . At what time? At cock crow. Well, there you are! sang Spagg. Shes probably got better by now. She felt queasy, probably, on waking but has since taken some salts and has corrected herself. A simple case of morning sicknessl Spagg grinned broadly, chuckled and dug Soldier in the ribs with his elbow. Eh? Eh? You old dog, you. Will we be hearing happy tidings soon? Spagg, you are the most vulgar, crude man I know. Lots of nods from the retinue. If you do not watch what you say in the street, or anywhere for that matter, you will kiss goodbye to this new post of yours and find a new one as Keeper of the Dungeon Keys. Yes, yes, murmured the retinue. Please. You jest with me, Soldier I am deadly serious. Spagg said nothing more. His face became quite grim. But he did not falter in his step. He kept pace with Soldier all the way, his retinue scurrying after him. When they came close to the palace Soldier stopped. Spagg halted too, staring at him. One more step, Spagg, and I will cut off your head. Here, I say . . . Soldier drew his sword. But the queen is waiting for me, pleaded Spagg. She sent for me specially. I have an audience with her. The messenger came just a short while ago, just after the bell tolled for late-morning prayers. Urgent, he said. The queen wants you immediately. If I dont go shell be very angry, Soldier, and you know what shes like when shes angry. Ive often said I would not like to be in the queens boudoir when shes in a rage. Soldier ignored the crude remark about the queens bedroom and stared down at the stunted figure below him. Just after the bell? Yes. Soldier recalled that the ceremony for the return of the queens memory had finished just on the bell. She had summoned Spagg immediately afterwards? And now they were here he could see other officials, other courtiers, hurrying up the marble steps to the court. The queen was going to issue a proclamation, that much was obvious. Memories prior to her entering that city in the sands of Uan Muhuggiag had come flooding back, obviously, and a decision had been made. Now Soldier was really worried. Whatever the queen was about to say, she felt no desire to discuss it first with him. With heavy heart Soldier began to climb the steps to the throne room where the queen held court. Spagg, after a few moments hesitation, followed him. They trailed others through the entrance hall and into the court. Queen Layana was sitting on her throne, dressed in her robes of office, her face looking small and pale. Prince Musket sat on the steps at her feet, playing with a puppy and a piece of yarn with a rag tied to the end. The room was hushed and waiting. Soldier remained at the back of the room, in the shadows. The queen spoke. Now that you are all assembled, I shall tell you why you have been called. I have to tell you that we are officially at war. She dipped her head slightly, then raised it again with a determined expression on her face. When I came back from the deserts of Uan Muhuggiag with my husband I had no memory of my life before entering those deserts. When the former queens head fell at my feet I did not recognise her as a sister and those filial emotions which accompany a death in a family were absent from me. I was told who she was and what she had meant to me, but without my memory it meant nothing more than the death of a stranger. Now I have been cured - my beloved husband has risked his life to obtain that cure - and all those remembrances have returned to me. I remember how I loved my sister, your former queen, and before her my father and mother. All, including myself, were made mad by the wizard called OmmullummO who has usurped the throne of the King Magus. I can remember how I myself suffered under that lunacy and therefore I know what terrors and horrors the rest of my family went through. OmmullummO hated us because we curbed his excesses and refused to allow him to follow his desire to subject us all to his tyranny. He swore to destroy us. The culmination of the enmity which OmmullummO felt towards my family was the turning of Humbold, my sisters chancellor. Humbold murdered my sister, set himself up as despot of this city, and executed and tortured hundreds of innocent citizens. His punishment, while my mind was still vacant of old memories, was banishment. If he had remained in exile he would be outside the wrath of this nation, but he chose to return. Thus any assurances which were given him are now void. Humbold is now the instrument of the false wizard. Humbold has gathered an army which will soon march on Zamerkand, to annihilate us. I feel nothing but contempt for this creature, but I have to respect the fact that he has enough warriors to defeat us if things go badly. We have the Red Pavilions of course, who will as always fight to the death to defend Zamerkand. My husband will lead them and as you know he is a seasoned general. He has conquered and will conquer again. Until now we have relied almost totally on the Red Pavilions to protect our city. Guthrums population have been able to go about their civilian business without having to resort to arms, albeit we have kept a small internal force of Imperial Guard to keep order within the walls of Zamerkand and to prevent civil disobedience. However, now there is a need for all Zamerkand to join the Red Pavilions in their battle lines. General Golgath will be recruiting every citizen able to fight, training them in the art and science of war, and will form regiments which will stand alongside the mercenary army of Carthaga. We are fighting for our very existence here. If Humbold defeats us, OmmullummO will remain as King Magus and will raze our city to the ground. If that happens, before the century is out we shall be nothing but a faint memory in the minds of travellers passing through the ruins. Thus it is my proclamation that all able-bodied citizens between the ages of eighteen and fifty will take up arms. Henceforth every soldier now in the Imperial Guard will be promoted to sergeant-at-arms and will be sent out to gather in the recruits and assign them to battalions. Training will begin as soon as the raw regiments have been formed. That is all. The queen then rose and left the court, followed by the prince carrying the puppy in his arms. Soldier went to the high room in the Green Tower, where he knew his wife would be waiting for him. So, he said, you feel a great anger? Layana was pacing up and down a very precious rug, with Ofaos protective eyes watching intently for the wear. The queen stopped and stared at her husband. Soldier braced himself for any attack. Instead she ran to him and flung her arms around his neck. Oh, my husband, I have wronged you so often! What a terrible thing a memory is, when it recalls such treatment. You have suffered badly under my foul insanity and did I wound you once or twice? Thrice to be exact, he said. I have the scars from three separate daggers. But that is all in the past and you were ill. You cant be held responsible for your actions while your mind was in such turmoil. The wizard it was who bewitched and bewildered you. He put the violence in your head and turned you from a meek lamb into a savage tiger. She gave him a rueful smile while still hanging round his neck. I have never been a lamb, she said. No, no, I confess I am exaggerating there. But you are not the fierce beast that used to emerge at certain times during the month. That was the demon implanted in you by OmmullummO. He gently removed her locking arms and held her hands. I heard your speech. It was well done. You really do have a determination to destroy that false magus? I am set on it. Good, we are of like mind. He looked round. And where is the boy? Playing with a young dog that he found tied in a sack and thrown by the kitchen waste. It must have been left there by the Keeper of the Royal Hunting Hounds. A breeding bitch had too many puppies Ill warrant. Anyway, husband, I swear if I had known how an animal can entrance a child of that age, I would have asked for one myself as a little girl. Soldier was astonished. You never had a pet when you were young? A pet} The word means nothing. Why, an animal or bird which is there for the purpose of loving and being loved, and no other reason. His wife stared at him. Ofaos eyes opened wider and he too looked thoughtful. Even sweet Drissila was making a peculiar face. Soldier shook his head in puzzlement. What? he cried. None of you had pets? I think I see a great fracture between our cultures. Now that I come to think of it, I have seen no one with a pet in Guthrum, or anywhere else in this world. No birds in cages, unless it be the geese on the city walls, to warn of an attack. Dogs and cats in service, yes cats for ratting and mousing; dogs for hunting deer, for tracking, for rounding up sheep and goats; and horses for riding. Domestic animals which have a purpose other than just being what they are. How could it have escaped me? No wonder most of you are brittle and hard. Did you not know a pet can soften your life? Something occurred to Soldier. Of course! The beast-people. You have a type of creature we do not have in my old world: part-man, part-animal. You have the dog-heads, the snake-heads, the horse-heads, the wolf-heads. Is that why you do not have pets? I am not brittle and hard, argued Layana, hotly. I am as soft and sweet as any woman. Any woman in this world, yes, but where I come from the women are so soft they melt in the sun. He was teasing her now, but she took him seriously. Perhaps youd better go back there, she said, her little nose pointing haughtily in the air. Perhaps youd better find another wife. He took her hands again. This one will suit me fine. She pulled away. No, no, I am as a stick of candy. You had better find one like a satin pillow. Soldier laughed, said he was joking with her, and begged her to forgive him for being frivolous. Soon he had her smiling again. But then they had to turn to serious business. An army was to be raised within the walls of the city. Soldier would help with that, even though he was the commander-in-chief of the mercenaries. There was no reason why the Red Pavilions should not help with the training. The Carthagans could not enter the city but the recruits could certainly leave it. They could be as well trained outside the walls as inside. I will get some of my sergeants-at-arms in the way of it, tomorrow Thus the hard work began, of raising a citizens army. It had been done many times before, of course, and with great success in some cases. In Soldiers old world the Athenians had taken up arms at a moments notice and had repelled the Persian invader. The English, a nation of shopkeepers, had defeated foes. Kings often conscripted armies