The Knight

Disiri was watching us then. I know that because of something that she gave me when we got here, not a drawing (although I thought it was a drawing at first) but a cutout of black paper glued to blue paper: a knight swaggering along with his hand on the hilt of a short sword; a monstrous thing behind him taller than he is, shambling on bowed legs with one scaly hand upon the knight’s shoulder; and a big dog that looks small because it is following the monster. I have put it where I see it every day. It has not made me wish to go back to Mythgarthr, but I know it will someday.

The kitchen windows looked bright and cheerful when we caught sight of Nukara, Duns, and Pouk at last. I did not really feel like I was coming home, but it was like that. I would be able to eat—I had not eaten much before the fight—and to warm myself in front of the fire. Right then it seemed like everything that anybody could ever want.

All that counted, but it was not just that. I had been talking to Gylf and Uri and Baki, and even to Org, which was okay. But the voices I heard through the greased skin in the kitchen windows were human, all of them. Sometimes that can make a big difference.

Pouk opened the door when I knocked. “There you are, sir. Missed you, I did. Knew you wasn’t ...”

He had seen the ogre behind me. I said, “This is Org, Pouk. You’re not to harm him. If he misbehaves, tell me.”

Pouk stood there frozen, with his mouth open. I do not believe he had heard a word I said.

“Org, this man is Pouk, another servant. He will see to it that you’re fed and otherwise cared for. You must do what he says, exactly like you would do what I said.”

Org grunted and looked at Pouk, and Pouk took a couple of steps backward. Maybe I ought to say here that Org did not snarl or anything, ever. He did not smile, and he did not frown. His eyes were like two black beads. They looked small in a big face that was mostly mouth. It was not a human face or anything close to that. A dog’s face or a horse’s face is a lot more human-looking than Org’s.

I went on into the house, and Org came in behind me. Gylf went around us to He in front of the fire. Duns and Nukara had been sitting at the table with Pouk, or that was how it seemed. They had stood up, probably, when Pouk went to the door. Now they looked every bit as out of it as he did. “Here’s your ghost,” I told them. “A solid one. Hear the floorboards creak? If you’d like to touch him, go right ahead.”

Duns tried to talk three times before he could say “You fought him?”

“I did, and I didn’t like it, either. He beat me, and then he surrendered to me. It’s kind of a long story, and I’d rather not get into the whole thing just now.”

“Where’s Uns?” Nukara asked. “Where is my son?”

“I don’t know. He went with me and helped me, and I was thinking of taking him on to work with Pouk for a while if he wanted. But when Org and I fought, he disappeared.”

“Run off?” Pouk had recovered himself somewhat.

“I didn’t see him go, so I don’t know. If he did, I can’t blame him. I felt like running too.”

Gylf growled at Org, who seemed not to hear him.

“I’ll have a word wit him,” Duns was saying, “when he gits hum.”

“You don’t have to chew him out,” I said. “He doesn’t have it coming.”

Pouk had drawn his knife. “We goin’ to kill that now, sir?”

“Kill him after he gave up?” I shook my head. “If you’d been paying attention, you’d know what we’re going to do. We’re going to take him back to Sheerwall with us, and you’re going to take care of him.”

Pouk nodded. “We’ll do for him there, sir, and have a hundred to help us.”

“They’ll do for him, you mean, if we don’t stop them, and he’ll kill ten or twenty of them first. We’ve got to find a way to keep that from happening.”

Nukara gave me bread and cheese, and more soup. She found the carcass of a sheep for Org, and had me give it to him. He ate it bones and all, and seemed to be satisfied.

After that, we left. I kept thinking about my fight with Org and what I was going to do with him; Pouk probably asked questions, but I doubt that I answered them. Then we topped a hill and saw Sheerwall with the full moon behind it—the high, square towers crowned with battlements. Later I saw Utgard, which was a whole lot bigger (so big it scared you). And Thortower, which was taller and prettier. But Sheerwall was Sheerwall, and there was nothing else like it. Not for me.

I think it was a little after midnight by the time we got there. Master Agr had told me the password, even though I told him we should get back before sundown. Now I saw that he had been right. I yelled for the sentries and when they challenged me I gave it to them and they loosed the pawl. I had never seen the drawbridge let down before, and wished I could have seen more of it. As it was, about all I saw was the big chain moving and the stone counterweights going up. Sheerwall had a good wide moat and a narrow bridge without railings. I was a little scared and cantered across just to look like I was not.