The Worm Ouroboros, Eric Rücker Eddison [epub ebook reader txt] 📗
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so that a score of her crew must be still a-baling to keep her afloat.
Of her fifty oars, half were broken or gone adrift, and many of the
ship’s company lay wounded and some slain under her thwarts.
And now was King Gaslark ware as he drew near that here was the Lord
Juss on her ruined poop a-steering, and by him Spitfire and Brandoch
Daha. Their jewelled arms and gear and rich attire were black with
most stinking soot, and it was as though admiration and grief and
anger were so locked and twined within them that none of these
passions might win forth to outward showing on their frozen
countenances.
When they were within hailing distance, Gaslark hailed them. They
answered him not, only beholding him with alien eyes. But they stopped
the ship, and Gaslark lay aboard of her and came on board and went up
on the poop and greeted them. And he said, “Well met in an ill hour.
What’s the matter?”
The Lord Juss made as if to speak, but no word came. Only he took
Gaslark by both hands and sat down with a great groan on the poop,
averting his face. Gaslark said, “O Juss, for so many a time as thou
hast borne part in my evils and succoured me, surely right requireth I
have part of thine?”
But Juss answered in a thick, strange voice all unlike himself, “Mine,
sayest thou, O Gaslark? What in the stablished world is mine, that am
thus in a moment reived of him that was mine own heartstring, my
brother, the might of mine arm, the chiefest citadel of my dominion?”
And he burst into a great passion of weeping.
King Gaslark’s rings were driven into the flesh of his fingers by the
grip of Juss’s strong hands on his. But he scarce wist of the pain,
such agony of mind was in him for the loss of his friend, and for the
bitterness and wonder that it was to behold these three great lords of
Demonland weep like frightened women, and all their ship’s company of
tried men of war weeping and wailing besides. And Gaslark saw well
that their lordly souls were unseated for a season because of some
dreadful fact, the havoc whereof his eyes most woefully beheld, while
its particulars were yet dark to him, yet with a terror in darkness
that might well make his heart to quail.
By much questioning he was at last well advertised of what had
befallen: how they the day before, in broad noon, on such a summer
sea, had heard a noise like the flapping of wings outstretched from
one edge of the sky to another, and in a moment the calm sea was
lifted up and fell again and the whole sea clashed together and
roared, yet was the ship not sunken. And there was a tumult about them
of thunder and raging waters and black night and wildfire in the
night; which presently passing away and the darkness lifting, the sea
lay solitary as far as eye might reach. “And nothing is more certain,”
said Juss, “than that this is a sending of King Gorice XII. spoken of
by the prophets as a great clerk of necromancy beyond all other this
world hath seen. And this is his vengeance for the woes we wrought for
Witchland in the Foliot Isles. Against such a peril I had provided
certain amulets made of the stone alectorian, which groweth in the
gizzard of a cock hatched on a moonless night when Saturn burneth in a
human sign and the lord of the third house is in the ascendant. These
saved us, albeit sorely buffeted, from destruction: all save Goldry
alone. He, by some cursed chance, whether he neglected to wear the
charm I gave him, or the chain of it was broken in the plunging of the
ship, or by some other means ‘twas lost: when daylight came again, we
stood but three on this poop where four had stood. More I know not.”
“O Gaslark,” said Spitfire, “our brother that is stolen from us, with
us it surely lieth to find him and set him free.”
But Juss groaned and said, “In which star of the unclimbed sky wilt
thou begin our search? Or in which of the secret streams of ocean
where the last green rays are quenched in oozy darkness?”
Gaslark was silent for a while. Then he said, “I think nought likelier
than this, that Gorice hath caught away Goldry Bluszco into Carcë,
where he holdeth him in duress. And thither must we straightway to
deliver him.”
Juss answered no word. But Gaslark seized his hand, saying, “Our
ancient love and your oft succouring of Goblinland in days gone by
make this my quarrel. Hear now my rede. As I fared from the east
through the Straits of Rinath I beheld a mighty company of forty sail,
bound eastward to the Beshtrian sea. Well it was they marked us not as
we lay under the isles of Ellien in the dusk of evening. For touching
later at Norvasp in Pixyland we learned that there sailed Laxus with
the whole Witchland fleet, being minded to work evil deeds among the
peaceful cities of the Beshtrian seaboard. And as well met were an
antelope with a devouring lion, as I and my seven ships with those
ill-doers in such strength on the high seas. But now, behold how wide
standeth the door to our wishes. Laxus and that great armament are
safe harrying eastward-ho. I make question whether at this moment more
than nine score or ten score fighting men be left in Carcë. I have
here of mine own nigh on five hundred. Never was fairer chance to take
Witchland with his claws beneath the table, and royally may we scratch
his face ere he get them forth again.” And Gaslark laughed for joy of
battle, and cried, “O Juss, smiles it not to thee, this rede of mine?”
“Gaslark,” said Lord Juss, “nobly and with that open hand and heart
that I have loved in thee from of old hast thou made this offer. Yet
not so is Witchland to be overcome, but after long days of labour
only, and laying of schemes and building of ships and gathering of
hosts answerable to the strength we bare of late against the Ghouls
when we destroyed them.”
Nor for all his urging might Gaslark move him any whit.
But Spitfire sat by his brother and spake privately to him: “Kinsman,
what ails thee? Is all high heart and swiftness to action crushed out
of Demonland, and doth but the unserviceable juiceless skin remain to
us? Thou art clean unlike that thou hast ever been, and could
Witchland behold us now well might hejudge that base fear had ta’en
hold upon us, seeing that with the odds of strength so fortunately of
our side we shrink from striking at him.”
Juss said in Spitfire’s ear, “This it is, that I do misdoubt me of the
steadfastness of the Goblins. Too like to fire among dead leaves is
the sudden flame of their valour, a poor thing to rely on if once they
be checked. So do I count it folly trusting in them for our main
strength to go up against Carcë. Also it is but a wild fancy that
Goldry hath been transported into Carcë.”
But Spitfire leaped up a-cursing, and cried out, “O Gaslark, thou wert
best fare home to Goblinland. But we will sail openly to Carcë and
crave audience of the great King, entreating him suffer us to kiss his
toe, and acknowledging him to be our King and us his ill-conditioned,
disobedient children. So may he haply restore unto us our brother,
when he hath chastised us, and haply of his mercy send us home to
Demonland, there to fawn upon Corsus or vile Corinius, or whomsoever
he shall set up in Galing for his Viceroy. For with Goldry hath all
manliness departed out of Demonland, and we be milksops that remain,
and objects of scorn and spitting.”
Now while Spitfire spake thus in wrath and sorrow of heart, the Lord
Brandoch Daha fared fore and aft on the gangway about and about, as a
caged panther fareth when feeding time is long overdue. And at whiles
he clapped hand to the hilt of his long and glittering sword and
rattled it in the scabbard. At length, standing over against Gaslark,
and eyeing him with a mocking glance, “O Gaslark,” he said, “this that
hath befallen breedeth in me a cruel perturbation which carries my
spirits outwards, stirring up a tempest in my mind and preparing my
body to melancholy, and madness itself. The cure of this is only
fighting. Wherefore if thou love me, Gaslark, out with thy sword and
ward thyself. Fight I must, or this passion will kill me quite out.
‘Tis pity to draw upon my friend, but sith we be banned from fighting
with our enemies, what choice remaineth?”
Gaslark laughed and seized him playfully by the arms, saying, “I will
not fight with thee, how prettily soe’er thou ask it, Brandoch Daha,
that savedst Goblinland from the Witches”; but straight grew grave
again and said to Juss, “O Juss, be ruled. Thou seest what temper thy
friends are in. All we be as hounds tugging against the leash to be
loosed against Carcë in this happy hour, that likely cometh not
again.”
Now when Lord Juss perceived them all against him, and hot-mouthed for
that attempt, he smiled scornfully and said, “O my brother and my
friends, what echoes and quailpipes are you become who seem to catch
wisdom by imitating her voice? But ye be mad like March hares, every
man of you, and myself too. Break ice in one place, ‘twill crack in
more. And truly I care not greatly for my life now that Goldry is gone
from me. Cast we lots, then, which of us three shall fare home to
Demonland with this our ship, that is but a lame duck since this
sending. And he on whom the lot shall fall must fare home to concert
the raising of a mighty fleet and armament to carry on our war against
the Witches.”
So spake Lord Juss, and all they who had but a short hour ago felt
themselves in such point that there was in them no hope of
convalescence nor of life, had now their spirits raised in a seeming
drunkenness, and thought only on the gladness of battle.
The lords of Demonland marked each his lot and cast it in the helm of
Gaslark, and Gaslark shook the helm, and there leapt forth the lot of
the Lord Spitfire. Right wrathful was he. So the lords of Demonland
did off their armour and their costly apparel that was black with
soot, and let cleanse it. Sixty of their fighting men that were
unscathed by the sending went aboard one of Gaslark’s ships, and the
crew of that ship manned the ship of Demonland, and Spitfire took the
steering paddle, and the Demons that were hurt lay in the hold of the
hollow ship. They brought forth a spare sail and hoisted it in place
of that that was destroyed; so in sore discontent, yet with a cheerful
countenance, the Lord Spitfire set sail for the west. And Gaslark the
king sat by the steering paddle of his fair dragon of war, and by him
the Lord Juss and the Lord Brandoch Daha, who was like a warhorse
impatient for battle. Her prow swung north and so round eastaway, and
her sail broidered with flower-de-luces smote the mast and filled to
the northwest wind, and those
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