The Knight

That got me a nice smile from the daughter that meant she would not have minded.

Beel coughed. “I will not, however, Sir Able. I ought to inform that as a matter of policy I almost never sit with my inferiors.”

“It’s your table,” I said.

“So it is. Sitting encourages familiarity, and I am forced to punish men whom I myself have corrupted.” Beel shook his head. “I have done that once or twice. I did not find it pleasant.”

I said, “I bet they didn’t, either.”

“True. But—”

The daughter interrupted us. “May I pet your cat?” As soon as she said that, Mani came out from under the table and jumped into her lap.

“I asked the man I questioned whether the noble knight of whom the beggar had spoken thought himself invincible.” I would have expected Beel to be angry then, but he was smiling while he waited for my answer.

“It seems like a funny question,” I said. “I doubt if there’s any such knight, anywhere.”

Here I have to stop to say that Beel’s pavilion was divided into halves by a curtain—more scarlet silk, but not as heavy as the outside stuff. I have to say it because Baki peeked around it and grinned at me.

“I agree,” Beel was saying. “But my question only seems odd. I asked it because of something one of the sons of my kinsman Lord Obr had told me the day before.”

I can be pretty stupid sometimes, but I got that one. “Squire Svon?”

“Yes. I think you know him.”

“He’s my squire, My Lord.”

Beel shook his head. “Not if he has deserted you. He said that he had not, but it seemed to me otherwise.”

“He didn’t.” I suppose that should have been hard to say, but it was not; I knew it was the truth and I wanted to get it out.

“I am delighted to hear it. You are going to the Northern Mountains to take your stand in a pass. For how long, Sir Able?”

“’Til there’s ice in the sea, My Lord. Ice in the Bay of Forcetti.”

“Midwinter, in other words.” Beel sighed. “I would not have been astonished if you had told me Svon deserted you.”

I shook my head. “He didn’t.”

Beel sighed again and turned to his daughter. “He is a connection of your grandmother’s, a younger son of Lord Obr’s. Obr is your great-aunt’s nephew.” She nodded.

“Young Svon told me certain things. It is unpleasant to question the veracity of those nobly born, but his—he ...”

I waved it away. “I get it.”

“So does Idnn, I’m sure,” Beel said, and turned back to her. “He was squire to a certain Sir Ravd, a knight of high repute. He is said to have deserted him on the field of battle. I am not saying he did so—I doubt that he did. But his character is such that the lie could be believed. You understand?”

The daughter (that was Idnn) said, “You must have known him better than my father, Sir Able. Do you believe it?”

I said, “No, My Lady. I don’t believe things like that unless I see proof, and nobody seems to have any.”

Beel’s thin smile was back. “I asked him what he was doing among these unpeopled hills, as anyone would. He told me a great deal, not all of which I credited. For one thing, he told me he had been made squire to a peasant now called a knight.”

He waited for me, but I stayed quiet.

“You are, of course, of gentle birth, Sir Able?”

“I’m not. I won’t go into my family—you wouldn’t believe me if I did. But basically, Svon’s right.”

Beel’s eyes got just a little bit wider.

“I want to say this, though. Please listen. I really am a knight, and I haven’t told you a single lie. I didn’t lie to your herald either. Or to the sergeant that brought me to him.”

Gylf pushed against my leg then to show that he was on my side.

“This puts things in a new light.” Beel clapped, and the mousy-looking servingman scampered in right away.

“We’ve kept Sir Able standing much too long, Swert. Fetch another chair.”

The servingman nodded and ran off to get one.

Beel said, “I want to make certain there is no mistake. Your father was a peasant.”

“My father sold hammers and nails. Things like that. He died while I was young, so I have to say I never really knew him. But I know what my brother said, and what other people have said. If we were back home, I could show you where his store was.”

“Good. Good! And how did you learn the secret arts? May I ask that? Who taught you?”

I said, “Nobody, My Lord. I don’t know anything about magic.”

Idnn giggled.

“I understand. One takes certain oaths, Idnn. Oaths one dares not break.” Beel smiled at me. “I am an adept myself, Sir Able. I will question you no more, if you do not question me. I might say, however, that young Svon himself had noticed certain—irregularities is too strong a word, perhaps. Certain phenomena, while in your company.”

The servingman came back with a folding chair, very pretty, with silver fittings. He opened it up and set it at the table where I would be across from Idnn. Beel nodded and I sat down, taking it easy because I was not sure the chair would hold me. Gylf lay down next to me.