The Knight

“I ‘ud. Even if they say they’ll feed you right, sir, it’s good to have a bit over, ain’t it? An’ you can always eat it after if there’s any left.”

I saw the wisdom in that. “Maybe you could tell me what I ought to take.”

“Go with you an’ help you pick it out, sir. Carry for you, too, like I said. You a fightin’ man, sir? You look it.”

“I’m a knight,” I said; I always said that, because I knew I could never get people to believe me unless I believed it myself. “I’m Sir Able of the High Heart.”

He touched his cap. “Pouk Badeye, sir. At your service.”

We joined hands the way they do here, not shaking them but just squeezing. His hand was as hard as wood, but mine was bigger and stronger.

“A fightin’ man can get a better price, sir, ’cause o’ his helpin’ protect th’ vessel,” Pouk explained. “Only I’d get a sword first, sir, if it was me.”

Thinking of Disiri, I shook my head.

“Got ’un already back where you’re stayin’, sir?”

“No,” I said. “I’m not going to get one here, either. An ax, maybe.” You know what I thought of as soon as I had said that, so I said, “Or something like that.” I knew how dumb it sounded.

“There ain’t none but Mori that’s a good armorer in Irringsmouth these days, sir. I can show you.”

“Then let’s go. I’ll need food, too.”

“Dried stuff, sir, an’ smoked. Apples is good, an’ we should be able to get ’em this time o’ year. Small beer to drink. That don’t spile in th’ cask like water, sir.”

“Wine?”

“Crew’ll snaffle it, sir, ‘less you watch it day an’ night.” Putting his thumb to his mouth, Pouk pretended to drink.

I said, “You’d know all about that, I bet.”

“Do it myself you mean, sir? Not I.” (As well as I could judge, his denial was entirely serious.) “Can I ask why you’re bound for Forcetti, sir? Not that it’s on my watch, just friendly like, sir?”

“To take service with Duke Marder, if I can. He’ll need another knight, and if he doesn’t want me he may be able to suggest somebody who might.”

“Right there’s Mori’s, sir.” Pouk pointed to a long dark shed from whose several chimneys smoke issued. “You could get a good sword there—”

“No.”

“Or a ax, sir. Or whatever you fancy. Did you see somethin’, sir?”

I shook my head, not knowing whether I had or not.

“You jerked around, like.”

I pretended I had not heard that, and went into Mori’s front room. It was big and dim, full of tables upon which weapons and armor were displayed. More covered every wall—swords, daggers, and knives of every kind, war-axes and half-axes, war hammers, morning-stars, and studded flails. Helms that covered the entire head, and helmets that left the face bare. Hauberks, gauntlets, and other mail. Buff-coats of wild-ox leather, byrnies of brass-studded leather, gambesons of quilted canvas, and much more—far too much for me to name even if I knew all the names. Bundles of lances, pikes, spears, bills, and halberts stood in corners. Through a wide door at the other end of the room I could see two brawny men in leather aprons working at a forge, one holding a glowing brand with tongs while the other hammered it.

After a time, an old man who had been watching them noticed us. “A knight, I see. We are honored, Sir ... ?”

“Able of the High Heart. May I ask how you knew me for a knight, sir? By my clothes?”

The old man shook his head. “By your bearing, Sir Able. By the set of your shoulders, particularly. I confess there are some called knights these days I wouldn’t have known.” He sighed. “Knights used to guard the fords in my time. They’d help poor travelers, and fight any other knight who wanted to cross.”

I said, “I don’t believe I’ve heard of that.”

“It went out, oh, thirty years ago. But ’twas a fine custom while it lasted, for it weeded out the fakers. A good custom for me, because they’d bring me the swords and armor.”

Pouk chuckled. “Claimed th’ salvage did they, sir?”

“Indeed they did, sailor. As is still done, in knightly combat. The winner leaves the loser his clothes and a nag to ride home on. But he takes the arms and armor. The charger if it lives, as it generally does. He takes its tack, as well—its saddle, its bridle, and the rest. A ransom, too, in many cases. Now if you want to buy something, I’ll have my clerk take care of you.”

“I’m wit’ Sir Able. His servingman, like. Thing is, Master Mori, I want him to get a sword. He don’t have none an’ says he don’t want none, so I steered him to you.”

I explained that I was expecting a sword from another source, and needed another weapon I could use until I got it.

“It ain’t th’ same! Th’ skipper o’ the Western Trader won’t never believe you’re a knight without you got a sword, sir.”

Mori said, “Not all my swords are costly, Sir Able. I can show you a fine arming sword with a good plain grip—”

I raised my hand to cut him off. “Let’s say I’ve sworn not to carry a sword.” The next was hard to get out, but I managed it. “An ax might be more useful on a ship anyway. Isn’t that right?”

Mori looked thoughtful. “Does this oath preclude the use of a falchion? I’ve a very fine one just now.”