"Ha ha! So there is how the wind blows! And what does he offer me for this merciful service?"
"The benefits are very real. The noble Shimrod has made requests.
If you oblige him, he undertakes not to take your life. Comply with his proposals! By syllogism, we offer you life itself: the most valuable and concrete advantage possible to offer."
Carfilhiot flung himself down in his chair. After a moment he chuckled. "Sir Glide, you have a deft tongue. One less tolerant than myself might even consider you insolent; even I am taken aback. You come here naked of protection but for a safe-conduct which teeters upon discretion and propriety. Next, you seek to extort large concessions through taunts and threats, which rankle harshly on the ear. In my aviary you would quickly learn to warble more pleasing songs."
"Sir, my intent is not to exasperate but to persuade. I had hoped to address your reason rather than your emotions."
Carfilhiot jumped again to his feet. "Sir, I am losing patience with your glibness."
"Very well, sir, I will say no more. What specific response shall I take to King Aillas?"
"You may tell him that Faude Carfilhiot, Duke of Vale Evander, reacts negatively to his proposals. In his forthcoming war with King Casmir I consider myself neutral."
"I will relay to him these exact words."
Shimrod spoke. "And my requests?"
Carfilhiot's eyes seemed to show a yellow light. "Like Sir Glide you offer me nothing and expect all. I cannot oblige you."
Sir Glide performed the minimal bow required by chivalric protocol. "Our thanks, at least, for your attention."
"If you hoped to arouse my deep antipathy, you have succeeded," said Carfilhiot. "Otherwise, the occasion has been time wasted.
This way, if you please." He ushered the two past the aviary, where Mad King Deuel hopped forward with an urgent new complaint, and into the lower hall, where Carfilhiot summoned his chamberlain. "Conduct these gentlemen to their horses." He turned to face the two. "I bid you farewell. My parole guards you while you pass down the valley. Should you return I will consider you hostile interlopers."
Shimrod said: "A final word with you."
"As you wish."
"Let us step outside; what I have to say to you sounds sickly and muffled inside your hall."
Carfilhiot ushered Shimrod out upon the terrace. "Speak then."
They stood in the full light of afternoon.
"I am a magician of the eleventh level," said Shimrod. "When you robbed me at Trilda you diverted me from my studies. Now they will resume. How will you protect yourself against me?"
"Would you dare pit yourself against Tamurello?"
"He will not protect you against me. He stands in fear of Murgen."
"I am secure."
"Not so. At Trilda you committed the provocation; I am allowed my revenge. That is the law."
Carfilhiot's mouth drooped. "It does not apply."
"No? Who protected Rughalt when his body burned from inside out?
Who will protect you? Tamurello? Ask him. He will give you assurances, but their falsity will be easy to detect. One last time: give me my possessions and my two children."
"I submit to no man's orders."
Shimrod turned away. He crossed the terrace and mounted his horse.
The two emissaries rode down the zig-zag way, past the gantry and the four taut men from Femus Castle, and so down the road toward Ys.
A band of fifteen ragged mendicants straggled south along the Ulf Passway. Some walked hunched; others hopped on crippled legs; others wore bandages stained by festering sores. Approaching the fortress at Kaul Bocach, they noted the soldiers on guard and shambled forward at best speed, groaning p-teously and demanding alms. The soldiers drew back in distaste and passed the group through quickly.
Once beyond the fort the mendicants recovered their health. They straightened, discarded bandages and hobbled no more. In a forest a mile from the fortress they brought axes from under their garments, cut poles and built four long ladders.
The afternoon passed. At dusk another group approached Kaul Bocach: this time a troupe of vagabond entertainers. They made camp in front of the fort, broached a keg of wine, set meat to cooking on spits and presently began to play music while six comely maidens danced jigs in the firelight.
The soldiers of the fort went to watch the merriment and to call out compliments to the maidens. Meanwhile the first group returned in stealth. They raised their ladders, climbed unseen and unheard to the parapets.
Quickly and quietly they knifed a pair of luckless guards whose attention had been fixed on the dancing, then descended to the wardroom, where they killed several more soldiers at rest on their pallets, then leapt upon the backs of those who watched the entertainment. The performance came to an instant halt. The entertainers joined the fight and in three minutes the forces of South Ulfland once more controlled the fortress at Kaul Bocach.
The commander and four survivors were sent south with a message: CASMIR, KING OF LYONESSE: TAKE NOTE!
The fortress Kaul Bocach is once more ours, and the interlopers from Lyonesse have been killed and expelled. Neither trickery nor all the valor of Lyonesse will again take Kaul Bocach from us.
Enter South Ulfland at your peril! Do you wish to test your armies against our Ulfish might? Come by way of Poelitetz; you will find it safer and easier.
I sign myself Goles of Cleadstone Castle, Captain of the Ulf armies At Kaul Bocach.
The night was dark and moonless; around Tintzin Fyral the mountains bulked black against the stars. In his high tower Carfilhiot sat brooding. His attitude suggested impatience, as if he were waiting for some signal or occurrence which had failed to show itself. At last he jumped to his feet and went to his workroom. On the wall hung a circular frame something less than a foot in diameter, surrounding a gray membrane. Carfilhiot plucked at the center of the membrane, to draw out a button of substance which grew rapidly under his hand to become a nose of first vulgar, then extremely large size: a great red hooked member with flaring hairy nostrils.
Carfilhiot gave a hiss of exasperation; tonight the sandestin was restless and frolicsome. He seized the great red nose, twisted and kneaded it to the form of a crude and lumpy ear, which squirmed under his fingers to become a lank green foot. Carfilhiot used both hands to cope with the object and again produced an ear, into which he uttered a sharp command: "Hear! Listen and hear! Speak my words to Tamurello at Faroli. Tamurello, do you hear? Tamurello, make response!"
The ear altered to become an ear of ordinary configuration. To the side a nubbin twisted and curled to form a mouth, shaped precisely like Tamurello's own mouth. The organ spoke, in Tamurello's voice:
"Faude, I am here. Sandestin, show a face."
The membrane coiled and twisted, to become Tamurello's face, save for the nose, where the sandestin, from carelessness, or perhaps caprice, placed the ear it had already created.
Carfilhiot spoke earnestly: "Events are fast in progress! Troice armies have landed at Ys and the Troice king now calls himself King of South Ulfland. The barons have not stayed him, and I am isolated."
Tamurello made a reflective sound. "Interesting."
"More than interesting!" cried Carfilhiot. "Today two emissaries came to me. The first ordered that I surrender myself to the new king. He uttered no compliments and no guarantees, which I regard as a sinister sign. Naturally I refused to do this."
"Unwise! You should have declared yourself a loyal vassal, but far too ill either to receive visitors or come down from your castle, thereby offering neither challenge nor pretext."
"I obey no man's bidding," said Carfilhiot fretfully.