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

Gaslark the king spake and said, “None can gainsay it, O Juss, that

this fight ye won last harvest tide was the greatest seen on land

these many years, and of greatest consequence. But I have heard a bird

sing there shall be yet greater deeds done ere many moons be past.

Therefore it is we came hither to thee, I and La Fireez that be your

friends from of old, to pray thee let us go with thee on thy quest

across the world after thy brother, for sorrow of whose loss the whole

world languisheth; and thereafter let us go with you on your going up

to Carcë.”

“O Juss,” said the Prince, “we would not in after-days that men should

say, On such a time fared the Demons into perilous lands enchanted and

by their strength and valorousness set free the Lord Goldry Bluszco

(or haply, there ended their life’s days in that glorious quest); but

Gaslark and La Fireez were not in it, they bade their friends

farewell, hung up their swords, and lived a quiet and merry life in

Zajë Zaculo. So let their memory be forgot.”

Lord Juss sat silent a minute, as one much moved. “O Gaslark,” he said

at length, “I’ll take thine offer without another word. But unto thee,

dear Prince, I must bare mine heart somewhat. For thou here art come

not strest in our quarrel to spend thy blood, only to put us yet

deeper in thy debt. And yet small blame it were to thee shouldst thou

in dishonourable sort revile me, as many shall cry out against me, for

a false friend unto thee and a friend forsworn.”

But the Prince La Fireez brake in upon him, saying, “I prithee have

done, or thou’lt shame me quite. Whate’er I did in Carcë, ‘twas but

equal payment for your saving of my life in Lida Nanguna. So was all

evened up betwixt us. Think then no more on’t, but deny me not to go

with you to Impland. But up to Carcë I’ll not go with you: for albeit

I am clean broke with Witchland, against Corund and his kin I will not

draw sword nor against my lady sister. A black curse on the day I gave

her white hand to Corund! She holdeth too much of our stock, methinks:

her heraldry is hearts not hands. And giving her hand she gave her

heart. ‘Tis a strange world.”

“La Fireez,” said Juss, “we weigh not so lightly our obligation unto

thee. Yet must I hold my course; having sworn a strong oath that I

would turn aside neither to the right nor to the left until I had

delivered my dear brother Goldry out of bondage. So sware I or ever I

went that ill journey to Carcë and was closed in prison fast and by

thee delivered. Nor shall blame of friends nor wrongful misprison nor

any power that is shake me in this determination. But when that is

done, no rest remaineth unto us till we win back for thee thy rightful

realm of Pixyland, and many good things besides to be a token of our

love.”

Said the Prince, “Thou doest right. If thou didst other thou’dst have

my blame.”

“And mine thereto,” said Gaslark. “Do not I grieve, think’st thou, to

see the Princess Armelline, my sweet young cousin, grow every day more

wan o’ the cheek and pale? And all for sorrow and teen for her own

true love, the Lord Goldry Bluszco. And she so carefully brought up by

her mother as nothing was too dear or hard to be brought to pass for

her desire, thinking that a creature so noble and perfect could not be

trained up too delicately. I deem to-day better than tomorrow, and

tomorrow better than his morrow, to set sail for wide-fronted

Impland.”

All this while the Lord Brandoch Daha said never a word. He sat back

in his chair of ivory and chrysoprase, now toying with his golden

finger-rings, now twisting and untwisting the yellow curls of his

moustachios and beard. In a while he yawned, rose from his seat and

fell to pacing lazily up and down. He had hitched up his sword across

his back under his two elbows, so that the shoe of the scabbard stood

out under one arm and the jewelled hilt under the other. His fingers

strummed little tunes on the front of the rich rose velvet doublet

that cased his chest. The spring sunlight as he paced from shine to

shade and to shine again, passing the tall windows, seemed to caress

his face and form. It was as if spring laughed for joy beholding in

him one that was her own child, clothed to outward view with so much

loveliness and grace, but full besides to the eyes and finger-tips

with fire and vital sap, like her own buds bursting in the Brankdale

coppices.

In a while he ceased his walking, and stood by the Lord Gro who sat a

little apart from the rest. “How thinkest thou, Gro, of our counsels?

Art thou for the straight road or the crooked? For Carcë or Zora

Rach?”

“Of the roads,” answered Gro, “a wise man will choose ever that one

which is indirect. For but consider the matter, thou that art a great

cragsman: think our life’s course a lofty cliff. I am to climb it,

sometime up, sometime down. I pray, whither leadeth the straight road

on such a cliff? Why, nowhither. For if I will go up by the straight

way, ‘tis not possible; I am left gaping whiles thou by crooked

courses hast gained the top. Or if down, why ‘tis easy and swift; but

then, no more climbing ever more for me. And thou, clambering down by

the crooked way, shalt find me a dead and unsightly corpse at the

bottom.”

“Grammercy for thy me’s and thee’s,” said Lord Brandoch Daha. “Well,

‘tis a most weighty principle, backed with a most just and lively

exposition. How dost thou interpret thy maxim in our present

question?”

Lord Gro looked up at him. “My lord, you have used me well, and to

deserve your love and advance your fortunes I have pondered much how

you of Demonland might best obtain revenge upon your enemies. And I

daily thinking hereupon, and conceiving in my head divers

imaginations, can devise no means but one that in my fancy seemeth

best, which is this.”

“Let me hear it,” said Lord Brandoch Daha.

Said Gro, “‘Twas ever a fault in you Demons that you would not

perceive how ‘tis ofttimes good to draw the snake from her hole by

another man’s hand. Consider now your matter. You have a great force

both for land and sea. Trust not too much in that. Oft hath he of the

little force o’ercome most powerful enemies, going about to entrap

them by sleight and policy. But consider yet again. You have a thing

is mightier far than all your horses and spearmen and dragons of war,

mightier than thine own sword, my lord, and thou accounted the best

swordsman in all the world.”

“What thing is that?” asked he.

Gro answered, “Reputation, my Lord Brandoch Daha. This reputation of

you Demons for open dealings even to your worst enemies.”

“Tush,” said he.“‘Tis but our way I’ the world. Moreover, ‘tis, I

think, a thing natural in great persons, of whatsoever country they be

born. Treachery and double dealing proceed commonly from fear, and

that is a thing which I think no man in this land comprehendeth.

Myself, I do think that when the high Gods made a person of my quality

they traced tween his two eyes something, I know not what, which the

common sort durst not look upon without trembling.”

“Give me but leave,” said Lord Gro, “and I’ll pluck you a braver

triumph in a little hour than your swords should win you in two years.

Speak smooth words to Witchland, offer him composition, bring him to a

council and all his great men along with him. I’ll so devise it, they

shall all be suddenly taken off in a night, haply by setting upon them

in their beds, or as we may find most convenient. All save Corund and

his sons; them we may wisely spare, and conclude peace with them. It

shall not by ten days delay your sailing to Impland, whither you might

then proceed with light hearts and minds at ease.”

“Very prettily conceived, upon my soul,” said Brandoch Daha. “Might I

advise thee, thou’dst best not talk to Juss i’ this manner. Not now, I

mean, while his mind’s so bent on matters of weight and moment. Nor I

should not say it to my sister Mevrian. Women will ofttimes take in

sad earnest such a conceit, though it be but talk and discourse. With

me ‘tis otherwise. I am something of a philosopher myself, and thy

jest ambleth with my humour very pleasantly.”

“Thou art pleased to be merry,” said Lord Gro. “Many ere now, as the

event hath proved, rejected my wholesome counsels to their own great

hurt.”

But Brandoch Daha said lightly, “Fear not, my Lord Gro, we’ll reject

no honest redes of so wise a counsellor as thou. But,” and here was a

light in the eye of him made Gro startle, “did any man with serious

intent dare bid me do a dastard deed, he should have my sword through

the dearest part of’s body.”

Lord Brandoch Daha now turned him to the rest of them. “Juss,” said

he, “friend of my heart, meseemeth y’are all of one mind, and none of

my mind. I’ll e’en bid you farewell. Farewell, Gaslark; farewell, La

Fireez.”

“But whither away?” said Juss, standing up from his chair. “Thou must

not leave us.”

“Whither but to mine own place?” said he, and was gone from the

chamber.

Gaslark said, “He’s much incensed. What hast thou done to anger him?”

Mevrian said to Juss, “I’ll follow and cool him.” She went, but soon

returned saying, “No avail, my lords. He is ridden forth from Galing

and away as fast as his horse might carry him.”

Now were they all in a great stew, some conjecturing one thing and

some another. Only the Lord Juss kept silence and a calm countenance,

and the Lady Mevrian. And Juss said at length to Gaslark, “This it is,

that he chafeth at every day’s delay that letteth him from having at

Corinius. Certes, I’ll not blame him, knowing the vile injuries the

fellow did him and his insolence toward thee, madam. Be not troubled.

His own self shall bring him back to me when time is, as no other

power should do ‘gainst his good will; he whose great heart Heaven

cannot force with force.”

And even so, the next night after, when folk were abed and asleep,

Juss, in his high bedchamber sitting late at his book, heard a bridle

ring. So he called his boys to go with him with torches to the gate.

And there in the dancing torchlight came the Lord Brandoch Daha

a-riding into Galing Castle, and somewhat of the bigness of a great

pumpkin tied in a silken cloth hung at his saddlebow. Juss met him in

the gate alone. “Let me down from my horse,” he said, “and receive

from me thy bedfellow that thou must sleep with by the Lake of

Ravary.”

“Thou hast gotten it?” said Juss. “The hippogriff’s egg, out of Dule

Tarn, by thyself alone?” and he took the bundle right tenderly in his

two hands.

“Ay,” answered he. “‘Twas where thou and I made sure of it last

summer, according to the word