The Worm Ouroboros, E. R. Eddison [best e reader for academics txt] 📗

kissed his cow. Day’s near dawning; I must be up betimes, and a sleepless night’s a poor breeder of invention.”

But she stood over him, saying, “It shall be seen if thou be a true king. And be not deceived: if thou fail me here I’ll have no more of thee. This night we must away. Thou shalt raise Pixyland, which is now mine by right: raise power in thine own vast kingdom of Impland. Fling Witchland to the winds. What care I if she sink or swim? This only is the matter: to punish these vile perjured Demons, enemies of ours and enemies of all the world.”

“We need ride o’ no journey for that,” said Corund, still putting off his boots. “Thou shalt shortly see Juss and his brethren before Carcë with three score hundred fighting men at’s back. Then cometh the metal to the anvil. Come, come, thou must not weep.”

“I do not weep,” said she. “Nor I shall not weep. But I’ll not be ta’en in Carcë like a mouse in a trap.”

“I’m glad thou’lt not weep, madam. It is as great pity to see a woman weep as a goose to go barefoot. Come, be not foolish. We must not part forces now. We must bide this storm in Carcë.”

But she cried, “There is a curse on Carcë. Gro is lost to us and his good counsel. Dear my lord, I see something wicked that like a thick dark shadow shadoweth all the sky above us. What place is there not subject to the power and regiment of Gorice the King? but he is too proud: we be all too insolent overweeners of our own works. Carcë hath grown too great, and the Gods be offended at us. The insolent vileness of Corinius, the old dotard Corsus that must still be at his boosing-can, these and our own private quarrels in Carcë must be our bane. Repugn not therefore against the will of the Gods, but take the helm in thine own hand ere it be too late.”

“Tush, madam,” said he, “these be but fray-bugs. Daylight shall make thee laugh at ’em.”

But Prezmyra, queening it no longer, caught her arms about his neck. “The odd man to perform all perfectly is thou. Wilt thou see us rushing on this whirlpool and not swim for it ere it be too late?” And she said in a choked voice, “My heart is near broke already. Do not break it utterly. Only thou art left now.”

The chill dawn, the silent room, the guttering candles, and that high-hearted lady of his, daunted for an instant from her noble and equal courage, cowering like a bird in his embrace: these things were like an icy breath that passed by and quailed him for a moment. He took her by her two hands and held her off from him. She held her head high again, albeit her cheek was blanched; he felt the brave comrade-grip of her hands in his.

“Dear lass,” he said, “I cast me not to be odd with none of these spawn of Demonland. Here is my hand, and the hand of my sons, heavy while breath remaineth us against Demonland for thee and for the King. But sith our lord the King hath made me a king, come wind, come weet, we must weather it in Carcë. True is that saw, ‘For fame one maketh a king, not for long living.’ ”

Prezmyra thought in her heart that these were fey words. But having now put behind her hope and fear, she was resolved to kick against the wind no more, but stand firm and see what Destiny would do.

XXXI The Demons Before Carcë

How Gorice the King, albeit so strong a sorcerer, elected that by the sword, and chiefly by the Lord Corund his captain general, should be determined as for this time the event of these high matters; and how those twain, the King and the Lord Juss, spake face to face at last; and of the bloody battle before Carcë, and what fruit was garnered there and what made ripe against harvest.

Gorice the King sate in his chamber the thirteenth morning after these tidings brought to Carcë. On the table under his hand were papers of account and schedules of his armies and their equipment. Corund sate at the King’s right hand, and over against him Corinius.

Corund’s great hairy hands were clasped before him on the table. He spoke without book, resting his gaze on the steady clouds that sailed across the square of sky seen through the high window that faced him. “Of Witchland and the home provinces, O King, nought but good. All the companies of soldiers which were appointed to repair to this part by the tenth of the month are now come hither, save some bands of spearmen from the south, and some from Estreganzia. These last I expect today; Viglus writeth they come with him with the heavy troops from Baltary I sent him to assemble. So is the muster full as for these parts: Thramnë, Zorn, Permio, the land of Ar, Trace, Buteny, and Estremerine. Of the subject allies, there’s less good there. The kings of Mynia and Gilta: Olis of Tecapan: County Escobrine of Tzeusha: the king of Ellien: all be here with their contingents. But there’s mightier names we miss. Duke Maxtlin of Azumel hath flung off’s allegiance and cut off your envoy’s ears, O King; ’tis thought for some supposed light part of the sons of Corsus done to his sister. That docketh us thirty score stout fighters. The lord of Eushtlan sendeth no answer, and now are we advertised by Mynia and Gilta of his open malice and treason, who did stubbornly let them the way hither through his country while they hastened to do your majesty’s commands. Then there’s the Ojedian levies, should be nigh a thousand spears, ten days overdue. Heming, that raiseth Pixyland in Prezmyra’s name, will bring them