The Knight

“That night one of our sentries reported seeing a very large man in the moonlight, some distance away. He called him a giant—an Angrborn. You know how those fellows are.”

It seemed a bad time to say anything.

“When he told his sergeant, the sergeant went to the place and looked around. He said he found a footprint in mud. A very large foot, he said, bare, with long toes. He said there appeared to be claws on the ends of the toes. You can see why I’m curious.”

“I sure do, My Lord.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

I nodded. “All I’ll say willingly, My Lord.”

“Very well. Svon has my sympathy. Don’t stand up again, please, Sir Able. I see you making ready to do it, but we are only just come to the matter I most wished to discuss.”

The steeple vanished. Beel leaned forward, anxious and thoughtful. “My daughter and I were both in that accursed declivity when we were attacked. I remained with her every moment. There wasn’t much I could do, but I was determined to protect her if I could.”

“Naturally, My Lord.”

Beel’s voice sank to a whisper. “She shall wed a king before all is said and done. She shall wed a king, and our blood will be royal again.”

“I understand, My Lord.”

“She is precious to me, and so I kept her under my eye. At no time was she up on the cliffs where our enemies were.”

“Naturally not, My Lord.”

“And yet, Sir Able, she talks almost as though she were. Those cliffs, she has told me, are littered with dead, hairy men of monstrous stature slain by you and your dog. I find it difficult to credit a dog’s slaying even one such man, let alone dozens, but that is what she says. You have boasted of your honesty in the past.” Seeing how I looked, Beel changed it. “Boasted is too strong a word perhaps, but you’ve laid claim to truthfulness. You told me that you had not lied to me or to Master Crol. Do you deny it?”

“No, My Lord.”

“Can you make the same claim today?”

“I can, My Lord. I do.”

“Then I would appreciate straightforward answers to a few questions.” Beel fell silent, studying my face, then his own hands. He had eaten nothing and drunk nothing.

“I like you, Sir Able. I like you more than any man I have met since I met His

Majesty. I hope that you are aware of it.”

“I was not, My Lord, but I’m very flattered. May I say I know you’re a really good man, a loyal servant of the king, and the loving father of your daughter?” Beel nodded. “It’s my daughter who concerns me now.”

“I know it, My Lord. I haven’t hurt her, or tried to.”

“You see the curtain that divides our pavilion. She sleeps behind it, and I before it. I wash and dress here, she there.”

“I’ve got it.”

“Thus we cannot see one another. But we can hear one another perfectly.

The curtain is of silk, which has small weight and occupies but a little space. It blinds us, if you will permit the expression. But it offers no resistance to sound.” I nodded.

“Thus we often speak to each other when we lie abed. In the morning too, while her maid dresses her and Swert dresses me.”

“Okay.”

“This morning she spoke of the battle, and she spoke as one who had been on the cliff tops—of broken heads, and broken arms and legs, of men crushed and torn, too, as though by a lion’s jaws. She said that you had killed many of these men, Sir Able. Is that true?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“May I ask what weapons you employed?”

I got out my dagger and laid it on the table, and drew Sword Breaker and laid it beside the dagger. Beel picked up Sword Breaker to look at it, and I said,

“That’s not a sword, My Lord. I know it looks like one, but it’s a mace.” He felt the corners of Sword Breaker’s blade, tried to flex it, and laid Sword

Breaker down again. “You are of low birth, I realize. But you are a knight, not a peasant, and a knight is entitled to wear a sword.”

“When I’ve got the one I want, I will, My Lord.”

“What sword is that?”

“Eterne, My Lord.”

Softly he said, “The perfect blade is a legend, Sir Able. Nothing more.”

“I don’t think so, My Lord.”

“Wizard, witch, or warlock.” He sighed. “Which is it? I have some knowledge of the art myself, although I boast no great power.”

I did not say anything.

“I confess it in order that you may know I am not your foe. You may confide in me as a fellow adept.”

“All I can confide is that I don’t know a thing about magic, My Lord.”

“Wizards never tell. It was a saying of my nurse’s, but I didn’t know there was so much truth in it. You’ve been on those cliffs, Sir Able? It was you who slew our foes there?”

“Yes, My Lord. Some of them. Most of them were killed by my dog. The arrows of your archers killed some too.”

“Did you take my daughter up there? After the battle?”

“No, My Lord.”

“Did you see her there when you were there yourself?”

“No. If she’s been up there, I know nothing about it.”

“This is the deed to the manor of Swiftbrook, Sir Able.” Beel held up the parchment. “Did you speak to her without my knowledge, telling her of the battle?”

“No, My Lord.”

“Who was with you on the cliffs? Anyone?”

“My dog and my cat, My Lord. You’ve seen them.”