The Worm Ouroboros, Eric Rücker Eddison [epub ebook reader txt] 📗

hold on the King; and greatly folk marvelled that he was able in

that plight to save himself from being thrown backward by the King. So

they gripped again until red wheals rose on their backs and shoulders

by reason of the grievous clasping of their arms. And the King on a

sudden twisted his body sideways, with his left side turned from

Goldry; and catching with his leg Goldry’s leg on the inside below the

great muscle of the calf, and hugging him yet closer, he lurched

mightily against him, striving to pull Goldry backward and so fall

upon him and crush him as they fell to earth. But Goldry leaned

violently forward, ever tightening his hold on the King, and so

violently bare he forward in his strength that the King was baulked of

his design; and clutched together they fell both to earth side by side

with a heavy crash, and lay bemused while one might count half a

score.

 

The Red Foliot proclaimed them even in this bout, and each returned to

his fellows to take breath and rest for a space.

 

Now while they rested, a flittermouse flew forth from the Witchland

booths and went widdershins round the wrastling ground and so returned

silently whence she came. Lord Gro saw her, and his heart waxed heavy

within him. He spake to Corund and said, “Needs must that I make trial

even at this late hour if there be not any means to turn the King from

further adventuring of himself, ere all be lost.”

 

Corund said, “Be it as thou wilt, but it will be in vain.”

 

So Gro stood by the King and said, “Lord, give over this wrastling.

Great of growth and mightier of limb than any that you did overcome

aforetime is this Demon, yet have you vanquished him. For you did

throw him, as we plainly saw, and wrongfully hath the Red Foliot

adjudged you evenly matched because in the throwing of him your

majesty’s self did fall to earth. Tempt not the fates by another bout.

Yours is the victory in this wrastling: and now we, your servants,

wait but your nod to make a sudden onslaught on these Demons and slay

them, as we may lightly overcome them taken at unawares. And for the

Foliots, they be peaceful and sheeplike folk, and will be held in awe

when we have smitten the Demons with the edge of the sword. So may you

depart, O King, with pleasure and great honour, and afterward fare to

Demonland and bring it into subjection.”

 

The King looked sourly upon Lord Gro, and said, “Thy counsel is

unacceptable and unseasonable. What lieth behind it?”

 

Gro answered, “There have been omens, O King.”

 

And the King said, “What omens?”

 

Gro answered and said, “I will not hide it from you, O my Lord the

King, that in my sleep about the darkest hour a dream of the night

came to my bed and beheld me with a glance so fell that the hairs of

my head stood up and pale terror gat hold upon me. And methought the

dream smote up the roof above my bed, and the roof yawned to the naked

air of the midnight, that laboured with fiery signs, and a bearded

star travelling in the houseless dark. And I beheld the roof and the

walls one gore of blood. And the dream screeched like the screech-owl,

crying, Witchland from thy hand, O King! And therewith the whole

world seemed lighted in one flame, and with a shout I awoke sweating

from the dream.”

 

But the King rolled his eyes in anger upon Lord Gro and said, “Well am

I served and faithfully by such false scheming foxes as thou. It ill

fits your turn that I should carry this deed to the end with mine own

hand only, and in the blindness of your impudent folly ye come to me

with tales made for scaring of babes, praying me gently to forgo my

glory that thou and thy fellows may make yourselves big in the world’s

eyes by deeds of arms.”

 

Gro said, “Lord, it is not so.”

 

But the King would not hear him, but said, “Methinks it is for loyal

subjects to seek greatness in the greatness of their King, nor desire

to shine of their own brightness. As for this Demon, when thou sayest

that I have overcome him thou speakest a gross and impudent lie. In

this bout I did but measure myself with him. But thereby know I of a

surety that when I put forth my might he will not be able to withstand

me; and all ye shall shortly behold how, as one shattereth a stalk of

angelica, I will break and shatter the limbs of this Goldry Bluszco.

As for thee, false friend, subtle fox, unfaithful servant, this long

time am I grown weary of thee slinking up and down my palace devising

darkly things I know not: thou, that art nought akin to Witchland, but

an outlander, a Goblin exile, a serpent warmed in my bosom to my hurt.

But these things shall have an end. When I have put down this Goldry

Bluszco, then shall I have leisure to put down thee also.”

 

And Gro bowed in sorrow of heart before the anger of the King, and

held his peace.

 

Now was the horn blown for the second bout, and they stepped into the

wrastling ground. At the clashing of the cymbals the King sprang at

Goldry as the panther springeth, and with the rush bare him backward

and well nigh forth of the wrastling ground. But when they were

carried almost among the Demons where they stood to behold the

contest, Goldry swung to the left and strove as before to get the King

lifted off his feet; but the King foiled him and bent his ponderous

weight upon him, so that Goldry’s spine was like to have been crushed

beneath the murthering violence of the King’s arms. Then did the Lord

Goldry Bluszco show forth his great power as a wrastler, for, even

under the murthering clasp of the King, he by the might that was in

the muscles of his brawny chest shook the King first to the right and

then to the left; and the King’s hold was loosened, and all his skill

and mastery but narrowly saved him from a grievous fall. Nor did

Goldry delay nor ponder how next to make trial of the King, but sudden

as the lightning he slackened his hold and turned, and with his back

under the King’s belly gave a mighty lift; and they that witnessed it

stood amazed in expectancy to see the King thrown over Goldry’s head.

Yet for all his striving might not Goldry get the King lifted clean

off the ground. Twice and three times he strove, and at each trial he

seemed further from his aim, and the King bettered his hold. And at

the fourth essay that Goldry made to lift the King over his back and

fling him headlong, the King thrust him forward and tripped him from

behind, so that Goldry was crawled on his hands and knees. And the

King clung to him from behind and passed his arms round his body

beneath the armpits and so back over the shoulders, being minded to

clasp his two hands at the back of Goldry’s neck.

 

Then said Corund, “The Demon is sped already. By this hold hath the

King brought to their bane more than three score famous champions. He

delayeth only till his fingers be knit together behind the neck of the

accursed Demon to draw the head of him forward until the bones of the

neck or the breastbone be bursten asunder.”

 

“He delayeth over long for my peace,” said Gro.

 

The King’s breath came out of him in great puffs and grunts as he

strained to bring his fingers to meet behind Goldry’s neck. Nor was it

aught else than the hugeness of his neck and burly chest that saved

the Lord Goldry Bluszco in that hour from utter destruction. Crawled

on his hands and knees he could nowise escape from the hold of the

King, neither lay hold on him in turn; howbeit because of the bigness

of Goldry’s neck and chest it was impossible for the King to fasten

that hold upon him, for all his striving.

 

When the King perceived that this was so, and that he but wasted his

strength, he said, “I will loose my hold on thee and let thee up, and

we will stand again face to face. For I deem it unworthy to grapple on

the ground like dogs.”

 

So they stood up, and wrastled another while in silence. Soon the King

made trial once again of the fall whereby he had sought to throw him

in the first bout, twisting suddenly his right side against Goldry,

and catching with his leg Goldry’s leg, and therewith leaning against

him with main force. And when, as before, Goldry bare forward with

great violence, tightening his grip, the King lurched mightily against

him, and, being still ill content to have missed his hold that never

heretofore had failed him, he thrust his fingers up Goldry’s nose in

his cruel anger, scratching and clawing at the delicate inner parts of

the nostrils in such wise that Goldry was fain to draw back his head.

Therewith the King, lurching against him yet more heavily, gat him

thrown a grievous fall on his back, and himself fell atop of him,

crushing him and stunning him on the earth.

 

And the Red Foliot proclaimed Gorice the King victorious in this bout.

 

Therewithal the King turned him back to his Witches, that loudly

acclaimed his mastery over Goldry. He said unto Lord Gro, “It is as I

have spoken: the testing first, next the bruising, and in the last

bout the breaking and killing.” And the King looked evilly on Gro. Gro

answered him not a word, for his soul was grieved to see blood on the

nails and fingers of the King’s left hand, and he thought he knew that

the King must have been sore bested in this bout, seeing that he must

do this beastly deed or ever he might overcome the might of his

adversary.

 

But the Lord Goldry Bluszco when he was come to his senses and had

gotten him up from that great fall, spake to the Red Foliot in mickle

wrath, saying, “This devil hath overcome me by craft, doing that which

it is a shame to do, in that he clawed me with his fingers up my

nose.”

 

The sons of Corund raised an uproar at the words of Goldry, loudly

crying that he was the greatest liar and dastard; and all they of

Witchland shouted and cursed in like manner. But Goldry shouted in a

voice like a brazen trumpet that was plain to hear above the clamour

of the Witches, “O Red Foliot, judge now fairly betwixt me and King

Gorice, as thou art sworn to do. Let him show his finger nails, if

there be not blood on them. This fall is void, and I claim that we

wrastle it anew.” And the lords of Demonland in like manner shouted

that this fall should be wrastled anew.

 

Now the Red Foliot had seen somewhat of what was done, and well was he

minded to call the bout void. Yet had he forborne to do this out of

fear of King Gorice that had looked upon him with a basilisk’s eye,

threatening him. And now, while the Red Foliot was troubled in his

mind, uncertain between the angry shouts of the Witches and the Demons

whether safety lay rather with his honour or