The Worm Ouroboros by Eric Rücker Eddison (english readers txt) 📕

a common horse-boy. Which indeed thou art.”

Corinius struck spurs into his horse so that it bounded aloft; then

cried out and said to Prezmyra, “Incomparable lady, I shall show thee

my new horse, what rounds, what bounds, what stop he makes i’ the full

course of the gallop galliard.” And therewith, trotting up to her,

made his horse fetch a close turn in a flying manner upon one foot,

and so away, rising to a racking pace, an amble, and thence after some

double turns returning at the gallop and coming to a full stop by

Prezmyra.

“‘Tis very pretty, my lord,” said she. “Yet I would not be thy horse.”

“So, madam?” he cried. “Thy reason?”

“Why,” said she, “were I the most temperate, strongest, and of the

gentlest nature i’ the world, of the heat of the ginger, most swift to

all high curvets and caprioles, I’d fear my crest should fall i’ the

end, tired with thy spur-galling.”

Whereat the Lady Sriva fell alaughing.

Now came Gorice the King among them with his austringers and falconers

and his huntsmen with setters and spaniels and great fierce boar-hounds

drawn in a string. He rode upon a black mare with eyes fire-red,

so tall a tall man’s head scarce topped her withers. He wore a

leather gauntlet on his right hand, on the wrist whereof an eagle sat,

hooded and motionless, gripping with her claws. He said, “It is met.

Corsus goeth not with us: I fly him at higher game. His sons attend

him, losing not an hour in preparation for this journey. The rest,

take pleasure in the chase.”

So they praised the King, and rode forth with him eastaway. The Lady

Sriva whispered Corinius in the ear, “Enchantery, my lord, ruleth in

Carcë, and this it must be bringeth it about that none may see nor

touch me ‘twixt midnight hour and cock-crow save he that must be King

in Demonland.”

But Corinius made as not to hear her, turning toward the Lady

Prezmyra, that turned thence toward Gro. Sriva laughed. Merry of heart

she seemed that day, eager as the small merlin sitting on her fist,

and willing at every turn to have speech with King Gorice. But the

King heeded her not at all, and gave her not a look nor a word.

So rode they awhile, jesting and discoursing, toward the Pixyland

border, rousing herons by the way whereat none made better sport than

Prezmyra’s falcons, flown from her fist at many hundred paces as the

quarry rose, and mounting with it to the clouds in corkscrew flights,

ring upon ring, up and up till the fowl was but a speck in the upper

sky, and her falcons two lesser specks beside it.

But when they were come to the higher ground and the scrub and

underwood, then the King whistled his eagle off his fist. She flew

from him as if she would never have turned head again, yet presently

upon his shout came in; then soaring aloft waited on above his head,

till the hounds started a wolf out of the brake. Thereon she swooped

sudden as a thunderbolt; and the King lighted down and helped her with

his hunting-knife; and so again, thrice and four times till four

wolves were slain. And that was the greatest sport.

The King made much of his eagle, giving her the last wolf’s lights and

liver to gorge herself withal. And he gave her over to his falconer,

and said, “Ride we now into the flats of Armany, for I will fly my

haggard: my haggard eagle caught this March in the hills of Largos.

Many a good night’s rest hath she cost me, to wake her and man her and

teach her to know my call and be obedient. I will fly her now at the

big black boar of Largos that afflicteth the farmers hereabout these

two years past and bringeth them death and loss. So shall we see good

sport, if she be not too coy and wild.”

So the King’s falconer brought the haggard and the King took her on

his fist. A black eagle she was, red-beaked and glorious to look on.

Her jesses were of red leather with little silver varvels whereon the

crab of Witchland was engraved in small. Her hood was of red leather

tasselled with silver. First she bated from the fist of the King,

screaming and flapping her wings, but soon was quiet. And the King

rode forth, sending his great brindled hounds before him to put up the

boar; and all his company followed after.

In no long time they roused the boar, that turned red-eyed and moody-mad

on the King’s hounds, and charged among them ripping up the

foremost so that her bowels gushed out. The King unhooded his eagle

and flew her off his fist. But she, wild and ungentle, fastened not

upon the boar but on a hound that held him by the ear. She fixed her

cruel claws in the hound’s neck and picked his eyes out ere a man

might speak two curses on her.

Gro, that was by the King, muttered, “O, I like not that. ‘Tis

ominous.”

By then was the King ridden up, and thrust the boar through with his

spear, piercing him above and a little behind the shoulder so that the

blade went through the heart of him and he sank down dying in his

blood. Then the King smote his eagle in his wrath with the butt of his

spearshaft, but smote her lightly and with a glancing blow, and away

she flew and was lost to sight. And the King was angry, for all that

the boar was slain, for the loss of his hound and his haggard, and for

her ill behaviour. So he bade his huntsmen skin the boar and bring

home his skin to be a trophy, and so turned homeward.

After a while the King called to him the Lord Gro to ride forward a

little with him and out of earshot of the rest. The King said to him,

“Thou hast a discontented look. Is it that I send not Corund into

Demonland to crown the work he began at Eshgrar Ogo? Thou babblest

besides of omens.”

Gro answered, “My Lord the King, pardon my fears. For omens, indeed

‘tis oft as the saw sayeth, ‘As the fool thinketh, so the bell

blinketh.’ I spake in haste. Who shall weep Fate from her determined

purpose? But since you did name Corund’s name–”

“I named him,” said the King, “because I am still ringing in the ears

with women’s talk. Whereto also I doubt not thou art privy.”

“Only so much,” answered he, “that this is my thought: he were our

best, O King.”

“Haply so,” said the King. “But wouldst have me therefore hold my

stroke in the air while occasion knocketh at the gate? I’ll tell thee,

I am potent in art magical, but scarce may I stay time’s wing the

while I fetch Corund out of Impland and pack him westaway.”

Gro held his peace. “Well,” said the King, “I will hear more from

thee.”

“Lord,” he answered, “I like not Corsus.”

The King gave him a frump to his face. Gro held his peace again

awhile, but seeing the King would have more, he said, “Since it likes

your majesty to demand my counsel, I will speak. You know, Lord, of

all your men in Carcë Corinius is least my friend, and if I back him

you will be little apt to think me moved by interest. In my clear

judgement, if Corund be barred from this journey (as reason is, I

freely embrace it, he must bide in Impland, both to harvest there his

victories and to deny the road to Juss and Brandoch Daha if haply they

return from the Moruna, and besides, time, as you most justly say, O

King, calleth for speedy action): if he be barred, you have no better

than Corinius. A complete soldier, a tried captain, young, fierce, and

resolute, and one that sitteth not down again when once he standeth up

till that his will be accomplished. Send him to Demonland.”

“No,” said the King. “I will not send Corinius. Hast thou not seen

hawks that be in their prime and full pride for beauty and goodness.

but must be tamed ere they be flown at the quarry? Such an one is he,

and I will tame him with harshness and duress till I be certain of

him. Also I have sworn and told him, last year when in his drunkenness

he betrayed my counsel and o’erset all our plans, broke me from

Pixyland and set my prisoners free, that Corund and Corsus and Laxus

should be preferred and advanced before him until by quiet service he

shall purchase my good will again.”

“Give then the glory to Corsus, but to Corinius the rude work on’t for

a tiring. Send him as Corsus’s secretary, and your work shall be

better performed, O King.”

But the King said, “No. Thou art a fool to think he would receive it,

that being in disgrace could not humble himself but look bigger than

before. And certainly I will not ask him, and so give him the glory to

refuse it.”

“My Lord the King,” said Gro, “when I said unto you, I like not

Corsus, you did scoff. Yet ‘tis no simple niceness made me say it, but

because I do fear he shall prove a false cloth: he will shrink in the

wetting and can abide no trial.”

“By the blight of Sathanas,” said the King, “what crazy talk is this?

Hast forgot the Ghouls twelve years ago? True, thou wast not here. And

yet, what skills it? When the fame hath gone back and forth through

all the world of their great spill when Witchland stood i’ the

greatest strait that ever she stood, and more than any other Corsus

was to praise for our delivering. And since then, five years later,

when he held Harquem against Goldry Bluszco, and made him at last to

give over the siege and go home most ingloriously, and else had all

the Sibrion coast been the Demons’ appanage not ours.”

Gro bowed his head, having nought to say. The King was silent awhile,

then bared his teeth. “When I would burn mine enemy’s house,” he said,

“I choose me a good brand, full of pitch and rosin, apt to sputter

well i’ the fire and fry them. Such an one is Corsus, since he fared

to Goblinland ten years ago, on that ill faring which, had I been

King, I never had agreed to; when Brandoch Daha took him prisoner on

Lormeron field and despitefully used him, stripped him stark naked,

shaved him all of one side smooth as a tennis ball and painted him

yellow and sent him home with mickle shame to Witchland. Hell devour

me, but I think his heart is in this enterprise. I think thou’lt see

brave doings in Demonland when he comes thither.”

Still Gro was silent, and the King said after awhile, “I have given

thee reasons enow, I think, why I send Corsus into Demonland. There is

yet this other, that by itself weigheth not one doit, yet with the

others beareth down the balance if more thou lookest for. Unto mine

other servants great tasks have I given, and great rewards: to Corund

Impland and a king’s crown therefor, to Laxus the like in Pixyland, to

thee by anticipation Goblinland, for so I do intend. But this old

hunting-dog of mine sitteth yet in’s kennel with ne’er a bone to busy

his teeth withal.