The Knight

“No story. There was ogres all around here in the old time. Dragons, too. Monsters. These here giants that’s in the ice country now. Lots of them. A man that killed one, he was a knight, only after a while they was all killed off, so it had to be other things.”

“You still haven’t told me what the ghost is.”

“A ogre. Must have been one killed right here, ’cause it’s been haunting my farm.”

Pouk looked around as if he expected to see it.

“You don’t have to worry,” the farmwife told him. “He don’t come but at night.”

I said, “In that case we can’t help you. We’ve got to go to Forcetti.” I took another piece of her summer sausage, thinking she might pull it out of reach soon. “We can’t stay in Forcetti tonight, though. Or here, either. I promised Master Agr he’d get his horses back tonight.”

Her face fell.

“It will be late, I suppose, when we pass your house again. Dark, or just about. We could stop in for a moment, just to make sure everything was okay.”

“Me ‘n my sons would be pleased as pigeons, Sir Able. We’d give you a bite to eat then, ‘n your horses, too.”

I snapped my fingers. “That’s right, the horses haven’t been watered. See to them, please, Pouk.”

“Not good to give ’em too much, sir.”

“That’s when they’re warm from galloping. They can’t be hot now, they’ve been standing in the shade whisking flies while we ate. Give them all they want.”

“Aye aye, sir.” He hurried out.

The farmwife said, “Me ‘n my sons work this farm, Sir Able. They’re strong boys, both of them, but they won’t face the ghost. Duns did, ‘n it almost killed him. He was bad for more’n a year.”

I said I would not have thought just being scared could do that.

“Broke his arms, ‘n just about tore one off.”

As soon as I heard that, I wanted to talk to the son, but he was out seeing to something or other; it stuck in my mind, though.

Chapter 36. The Dollop And Scallop

In the tap of the Dollop and Scallop (it was a big, plain, dirty room where you smelled the spilled ale), the innkeeper gave me his bill with a flourish. “I can’t read,” I told him, “or not the way you write here. I wish I could—I’d like to learn, but you’ll have to explain this to me.” I spread the bill on the top of a table. “Now sit down and tell me about this. I see the marks on the paper, but I don’t know what they mean.”

He scowled. “Want to make a fool of me, don’t you?”

“Not a bit. I can’t read and neither can Pouk, but I’d like to know what I’m being billed for.”

He stood beside me and pointed. “This right here’s the only part that matters. Five scields up and down.”

“For three days? It seems like an awful lot.”

“Three days’ rent of the best room I got. That’s right here.” He pointed. “And food here, and drink.”

Pouk would not meet my eyes.

“And food for your dog. That’s here.”

I caught his arm. “Say that again. Tell me about it.”

“Food for your dog.” The innkeeper looked uneasy. “A big brown dog with a spike collar. Shark’s teeth, the spikes was. We give him bones from the kitchen, couple old loaves with drippin’s on ’em, and meat scraps and so forth, and I don’t charge you for none of that. Only he stole a roast, too, and that cost.”

“I didn’t have a dog when I checked in.” I tightened my grip because I had the feeling he was going to bolt if he got the chance. “But I used to have a dog.

Pouk knows him. You showed him to Pouk, didn’t you? And asked Pouk if he knew who he belonged to?”

Pouk shook his head violently. “He never showed me no dog, sir, I swear.

Nor never talked about none neither.”

“I was going to punish you,” I told him, “for drinking at my expense when you knew I didn’t have much money. But if you’re lying about Gylf, I’m not going to punish you at all. If you’ve lied about Gylf, you and I are finished right now, and you had better keep out of my way from here on.”

Pouk drew himself up. “I never seen no dog in this here inn, nor heard tell o’ ’un, sir. Not from him, an’ not from nobody here at all—not your dog Gylf what jumped over th’ railin’ that time we both remember, an’ not no other dog neither.”

The innkeeper was trying to pull away. I said, “Why didn’t you show the dog to Pouk?”

“I tried to, but he was asleep.”

“Last night, full of your ale. Did he tell you I had agreed to let him drink as much as he wanted?”

The innkeeper said nothing.

“You said the dog stole a roast. Why didn’t you show him to Pouk after that?

Wasn’t Pouk here until Modguda came to get him?”

“She sent a boy on a horse, sir,” Pouk explained. “Him and me rode back together, me sittin’ behind o’ him, like.”

I said, “It’s clear that Pouk was awake this morning, since Modguda’s boy found him and spoke to him.”

“We couldn’t catch that dog, Sir Able. He’s a bad one.”