The Knight

“I don’t have to, because I know the answer. So do you. Why don’t you say it?” I tried to sound like I had not just thought of it.

Uri did not speak. Her fire died, so that for a moment it seemed Bold Berthold held empty darkness.

“Okay, let’s go on to another question, one you won’t be able to say I’ve asked already. Since you Aelf can fight any time in Aelfrice, and there are thousands and thousands of you there—”

“We cannot fight like you, Lord.”

“Why does Garsecg want me to fight Kulili for him? A whole host of you Aelf couldn’t kill her. Yet Garsecg, who’s afraid to come here and talk to me, wanted me to fight her for him. Doesn’t that seem peculiar?”

“May I speak freely, Lord?”

“Sure,” I said.

“These are high matters. It is not well to speak of them before persons of no distinction.”

“Before Gerda and her friend, you mean.”

“Yes, Lord.”

“I don’t agree that they’re without distinction, Uri. But to spare your feelings, I’ll just say one thing, then we can talk about something else. The one thing is that Garsecg did come here to Mythgarthr. He came when I was wounded, and we talked a little on the Western Trader. He came again when we were on the Tower of Glas. Did I promise I’d say one more thing? Only one?”

“Yes, Lord.”

“’Twasn’t no promise,” Gerda put in.

“If it was a promise, I’m going to break it,” I told her, “because I want to tell Uri that Garsecg looked unreal in both places. He looked like thin blue glass, even when I saw him by starlight. Is that enough, Uri?”

“More than enough, Lord.”

“Do you understand that I know the answers to all the questions I asked you?”

“Yes, Lord. I am your slave, Lord. Your most humble worshipper.”

“You’ll tell Garsecg when you return to Aelfrice. Don’t you and Baki meet with him there, to report on me?”

“Lord, I have no choice!”

I shrugged. “Where’s Baki?”

“Still scattering the mules, Lord.” Uri sounded very, very relieved. “There remain a few the Angrborn have not yet caught. She affrights them in various ways, as I did where they were more. We also took the forms of donkeys and other things to lead the Angrborn astray.”

“What will she do when the last is caught?”

“Come here, Lord, to tell us so.”

“Good. Bold Berthold, is that the house of your owner to the north?”

“Must be. No others ’round here.”

Gerda added, “Yes, sir. Bymir’s his name, a harder master no one never found.”

“Has this Bymir no cattle? I saw no barn.”

Bold Berthold chuckled. “Eyes don’t know ever’thing, sir knight. Cow shed and barn’s on the other side of the house. House’s big, but the cows ain’t.”

“I understand. Who milks them?”

“I do, sir.”

“That’s good. Gylf and I are tired and hungry. So is my horse. We’re going to sleep in that barn. Don’t tell your master.”

“No, sir.”

“We’ll go now, and take Uri with us. When you get home, I want you to find some food for us. Can you do it?”

“Yes, sir. An’ I will.”

“Thanks. We’ll leave in the morning, and we won’t take anything else or do any harm while we’re there.”

Gerda said, “What about us, sir?”

“I have to go to Utgard for Pouk and Ulfa. I told you about that. When I’ve got them, we’ll come back this way and take you south with us.”

“You’re a good man! I knew it soon as I saw the old lady with you, sir.”

“Can’t pay,” Bold Berthold muttered. “Wish I could.”

“You’ll pay with the food from your master’s kitchen.” I had not understood Gerda and decided to ignore it. “Let go of Uri now.”

Bold Berthold did, and Uri skipped from the shadow of the pine into the moonlight. “Thank you, Lord!”

“You’re welcome. Go and have a look at that farm for us. Then come back and tell me about it.”

The lame stallion had strayed quite a way down the hillside while we talked, but Gylf caught it without much trouble. When we were some distance from the hilltop (and about half a mile from Bymir’s hulking farmhouse) he said, “Which one’s really me?”

I asked what he was talking about.

“You said about Garsecg. He isn’t real here.”

“That wasn’t quite it.” I considered what I ought to say. “Do you remember the man with wings?”

“Sure!”

“You liked him.”

“A lot!”

“Then maybe you noticed that the log he sat on didn’t seem as real as he did. Neither did the pool, or the woods. It wasn’t that they weren’t real, and it wasn’t that they had changed, either. Mythgarthr hadn’t changed, but he was more real than Mythgarthr, or anything in it. When Uri and Baki come here from Aelfrice, they seem like they’re as real as we are. But they’re not, and when the sun hits them, you see it. When Garsecg came here, you could see it even at night.”

Gylf trotted on in silence for a minute or two; then he asked, “Is it the way I am now? Or is it the way I am when we fight?”

“I don’t know. I understand a lot more of this than I used to, but I don’t understand it all. Maybe I never will.”

“Do I seem realer like this? Or the other way?”