The Knight

“You say you want to be my follower. I’ll be loyal to you as long as you’re loyal to me, but no longer.”

He nodded. “I got it.”

We left after that, I motioning for him to come with us.

Chapter 13. Caesura

Side by side we went down the village street, through fields, and into the forest; and Gylf trotted ahead of us, exploring every thicket and clump of brush before we reached it. Soon the path narrowed, and I went before old man Toug with an arrow at the nock; but even then, Gylf ranged ahead of me. Near Glennidam the trees were small and mean, the better ones having been cut for lumber and firewood. Farther on, they were bigger and older, though there were still stumps where men had felled them for timber. Beyond those lay the true forest, the mighty wood that stretches for hundreds of miles between the Mountains of the Sun and the sea, and between the Mountains of the North and the southern plowlands—trees that had been old when no man had walked among them, trees thicker through than the biggest house in Irringsmouth, trees that push their pleasant green heads into Skai and nod politely to the Overcyns.

Springs well from their roots, for in their quest for water those roots crack rocks deeper than the deepest well. Wildflowers, small ones so delicate you cannot see them without loving them, grow around the springs. The north sides of the trunks are covered with shining green moss thicker than bear fur. Every time I saw it I thought of Disiri and wished she was with us, but my wishing did not bring her, not there or anyplace else, ever.

To tell the truth, I was afraid I was going to choke up, so I said, “Now I see how it is that the air in Aelfrice seems full of light. This air looks full of light too.”

“Ah,” said old man Toug, “this what Aelfrice’s like?”

“No,” I said. “Aelfrice is much more wonderful. The trees are bigger and of incredible kinds, strange, dangerous, or welcoming. The air doesn’t just seem to shine, it really does.”

“My boy can tell me ‘bout it, maybe, if I get him back.”

I asked whether he had given his son his name because he wanted his son to be like him, or because he wanted to be a boy again; and now I cannot help wondering what he thought of the young knight who came back to him wounded, and what each said to the other.

Not long after that, a white stag, already in antler, darted across the path; Gylf did not bay on its track, nor did I loose an arrow. We both felt, I would say, that it was not a stag to be hunted.

“Cloud buck,” said old man Toug.

“What do you mean by that?”

“What they call ’em,” said old man Toug, and nothing more.

The land rose and fell, gently at first as it does in the downs, then more abruptly, making hills like those among which I found Disiri. The trees sank their roots in such stone as a dog, a boy, and a man might walk upon.

At last we climbed a hill higher than any we had seen before, and its crest was bald except for wisps of grass; from its top I could make out, to the north, peaks white with snow. “Not far now,” old man Toug told me.

Gylf whined, and looked back at me. I knew he wanted to talk, but would not talk as long as old man Toug was with me; so I told old man Toug to go forward until he could no longer see us, then wait until we caught up with him. Naturally he wanted to know why, but I told him to do it or return to his wife and daughter, and he did it.

“They know,” Gylf cautioned me.

“The outlaws?”

He nodded.

“How do you know that?” I asked him.

“Smell it.”

Thinking about what he said, I remembered your telling me dogs could smell fear. I asked Gylf if they were afraid, and he nodded again. “How did they find out we were coming?”

He did not answer; as I got to know him better, I came to understand that it was the way he generally reacted when he did not know the answer to a question (or thought the question foolish). Probably they had lookouts. I would have, if I had been their captain.

“Thought you wouldn’t catch up,” old man Toug said when we overtook him.

I told him we had wanted to see whether he would tell the outlaws about us.

“You and the dog did?”

I nodded.

“Kill it straight off, they will.”

“I suppose you’re right, if he finds them before we do.”

“I seen a knight once that had one of them shirts of iron rings for his dog, even.”

“I’ll try to get one for Gylf, if he wants one,” I said, “but from here on I want you to stay back with him, and make him stay back with you. I’ll go first.”

“You only got eight arrows. I counted ’em.”

I asked how many he had and ordered him to stay well in back of me. After that, I told Gylf to keep back and to keep old man Toug with him.

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