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

Prezmyra answered, “That did not I. And yet I’m angry with myself now that I did not so.”

“How? Thou sawest the King before the council?”

She bent her head for yes.

“And he nay-said thee?”

“With infinite patience,” said she, “but most irrevocably. My lord must hold by Impland till it be well broke to the saddle. And truly, when I think on’t, there’s reason in that.”

Gro said, “Thou takest it, madam, with that clear brow of nobleness and reason I had looked for in thee.”

She laughed. “I have the main of my desire, if Demonland shall be put down. Natheless, it maketh a great wonder the King picketh for this work so rude a bludgeon when so many goodly blades lie ready to his hand. Behold but his armoury.”

For, standing in the gateway at the head of the steep descent to the river, they beheld where the lords of Witchland were met beyond the bridge-gate to ride forth to the hawking. And Prezmyra said, “Is it not brave, my Lord Gro, to dwell in Carcë? Is it not passing brave to be in Carcë, that lordeth it over all the earth?”

Now came they down and by the bridge to the Way of Kings to meet with them on the open mead on the left bank of Druima. Prezmyra said to Laxus that rode on a black gelding full of silver hairs, “I see thou hast thy goshawks forth today, my lord.”

“Ay, madam,” said he. “There is not a stronger hawk than these. Withal they are very fierce and crabbed, and I must keep them private lest they slay all other sort.”

Sriva, that was by, put forth a hand to stroke them. “Truly,” she said, “I love them well, thy goshawks. They be stout and kingly.” And she laughed and said, “Truly today I look not lower than on a King.”

“Thou mayst look on me, then,” said Laxus, “albeit I bear not my crown i’ the field.”

“ ’Tis therefore I’ll mark thee not,” said she.

Laxus said to Prezmyra, “Wilt thou not praise my hawks, O Queen?”

“I praise them,” answered she, “circumspectly. For methinks they fit thy temper better than mine. These be good hawks, my lord, for flying at the bush. I am for the high mountee.”

Her stepson Heming, black-browed and sullen-eyed, laughed in his throat, knowing she mocked and thought on Demonland.

Meanwhile Corinius, mounted on a great white liard like silver with black ear-tips, mane, and tail, and all four feet black as coal, drew up to the Lady Sriva and spoke with her apart, saying secretly so that none but she might hear, “Next time thou shalt not carry it so, but I will have thee when and where I would. Thou mayst gull the Devil with thy perfidiousness, but not me a second time, thou lying cozening vixen.”

She answered softly, “Beastly man, I did perform the very article of mine oath, and left thee an open door last night. If thou didst look to find me within, that were beyond aught I promised. And know for that I’ll seek a greater than thou, and a nicer to my liking: one less ready to swap each kitchen slut on the lips. I know thy practice, my lord, and thy conditions.”

His face flamed red. “Were that my custom, I’d now amend it. Thou art so true a runt of their same litter, they shall all be loathly to me as thou art loathly.”

“Mew!” said she, “wittily spoke, i’ faith; and right in the manner of a common horse-boy. Which indeed thou art.”

Corinius struck spurs into his horse so that it bounded aloft; then cried out and said to Prezmyra, “Incomparable lady, I shall show thee my new horse, what rounds, what bounds, what stop he makes i’ the full course of the gallop galliard.” And therewith, trotting up to her, made his horse fetch a close turn in a flying manner upon one foot, and so away, rising to a racking pace, an amble, and thence after some double turns returning at the gallop and coming to a full stop by Prezmyra.

“ ’Tis very pretty, my lord,” said she. “Yet I would not be thy horse.”

“So, madam?” he cried. “Thy reason?”

“Why,” said she, “were I the most temperate, strongest, and of the gentlest nature i’ the world, of the heat of the ginger, most swift to all high curvets and caprioles, I’d fear my crest should fall i’ the end, tired with thy spur-galling.”

Whereat the Lady Sriva fell a-laughing.

Now came Gorice the King among them with his austringers and falconers and his huntsmen with setters and spaniels and great fierce boarhounds drawn in a string. He rode upon a black mare with eyes fire-red, so tall a tall man’s head scarce topped her withers. He wore a leather gauntlet on his right hand, on the wrist whereof an eagle sat, hooded and motionless, gripping with her claws. He said, “It is met. Corsus goeth not with us: I fly him at higher game. His sons attend him, losing not an hour in preparation for this journey. The rest, take pleasure in the chase.”

So they praised the King, and rode forth with him eastaway. The Lady Sriva whispered Corinius in the ear, “Enchantery, my lord, ruleth in Carcë, and this it must be bringeth it about that none may see nor touch me ’twixt midnight hour and cockcrow save he that must be King in Demonland.”

But Corinius made as not to hear her, turning toward the Lady Prezmyra, that turned thence toward Gro. Sriva laughed. Merry of heart she seemed that day, eager as the small merlin sitting on her fist, and willing at every turn to have speech with King Gorice. But the King heeded her not at all, and gave her not a look nor a word.

So rode they awhile, jesting and discoursing, toward the Pixyland border, rousing herons by the way whereat none made better sport than Prezmyra’s falcons, flown from her fist at many