The Worm Ouroboros by E. R. Eddison (nonfiction book recommendations TXT) 📕

With those words spoken was Zeldornius grown yellow as old parchment, and his white moustachios bristled like a lion’s. He sat silent awhile, then, resting upon Juss the cold and steady gaze of his blue eyes, “The world comes back to me,” he said, “and this memory therewith, that they of Demonland were truth-tellers whether to friend or foe, and ever held it shame to cog and lie.” All they bowed gravely and he said with a great lowe of anger in his eyes, “This Helteranius deviseth against me, it well appeareth, the selfsame treachery whereof he was falsely accused to Jalcanaius Fostus. There were no likelier place to crush him than here on Salapanta ridge. If I stand here to abide his onset, the lie of the ground befriendeth me, and Jalcanaius cometh at his heels to gather the broken meats after I have made my feast.”

Brandoch Daha said in Juss’s ear, “Our peacemaking taketh a pretty turn. Heels i’ the air: monstrous unladylike!”

But nought they could say would move Zeldornius. So in the end they offered him their backing in this adventure. “And when the day is won, then shalt thou lend us thy might in our enterprise, and aid us in our wars with Witchland that be for to come.”

But Zeldornius said, “O Juss and ye lords of Demonland, I yield you thanks; but ye shall not meddle in this battle. For we came three captains with our hosts unto this land, and beheld the land, and laid it under us. Ours it is, and if any meddle or make with us, were we never so set at enmity one with another, we must join together in his despite and bring him to bane. Be still then, and behold and see what birth fate shall bring forth on Salapanta Hills. But if I live, thereafter shall ye have my friendship and my help in all your enterprises whatsoever.”

For awhile he sat without speech, his stark veined hands clenched on the board before him; then rising, went without word to the door of his pavilion to study the night. Then turned he back to Lord Juss, and spake to him: “Know that when this moon now past was but three days old I began to be troubled with a catarrh or rheum which yet troubleth me; and well thou wottest that whoso falleth sick on the third day of the moon’s age, he will die. Tonight also is a new moon, and of a Saturday; and that betokeneth fighting and bloodshed. Also the wind bloweth from the south; and he that beginneth that game with a south wind shall have the victory. With such uncertain blackness and brightness openeth the door of Fate before me.”

Juss bowed his head, and said, “O Zeldornius, thy speech is sooth.”

“I was ever a fighter,” said Zeldornius.

Far into the night sat they in the tent of renowned Zeldornius, drinking and talking of life and destiny and old wars and the chances of war and great adventure; and an hour after midnight they parted, and Juss and Spitfire and Brandoch Daha betook them to their rest in the watchtower on the ridge of Salapanta.

On such wise passed three days by, Zeldornius waiting with his army on the hill, and the Demons supping with him nightly. And on the third day he drew out his army as for battle, expecting Helteranius. But neither that day nor the next nor the next day following brought sight nor tidings of Helteranius, and strange it seemed to them and hard to guess what turn of fortune had delayed his coming. The sixth night was overcast, and mirk darkness covered the earth. When supper was done, as the Demons betook themselves to their sleeping place, they heard a scuffle and the voice of Brandoch Daha, who went foremost of them, crying, “Here have I caught a heath-dog’s whelp. Give me a light. What shall I do with him?”

Men were roused and lights brought, and Brandoch Daha surveyed that which he held pinioned by the arms, caught by the entrance to the fortalice: one with scared wild-beast eyes in a swart face, golden earrings in his ears, and a thick close-cropped beard interlaced with gold wire twisted among its curls; bare-armed, with a tunic of otter-skin and wide hairy trousers cross-stitched with silver thread, a circlet of gold on his head, and frizzed dark hair plaited in two thick tails that hung forward over his shoulders. His lips were drawn back, like a cross-grained dog’s snarling betwixt fear and fierceness, and his white pointed teeth and the whites of his eyes flashed in the torchlight.

So they had him with them into the tower, and set him before them, and Juss said, “Fear not, but tell forth unto us thy name and lineage, and what brings thee lurking in the night about our lodging. We mean thee no hurt, so thou practise not against us and our safety. Art thou a dweller in this Impland, or a wanderer, like as we be, from countries beyond the seas? hast thou companions, and if so, where be they, and what, and how many?”

And the stranger gnashed upon them with his teeth, and said, “O devils transmarine, mock not but slay.”

Juss entreated him kindly, giving him meat and drink, and in a while made question of him once more, “What is thy name?”

Whereto he replied, “O devil transmarine, pity of thine ignorance sith thou know’st not Mivarsh Faz.” And he fell into a great passion of weeping, crying aloud, “Woe worth the woe that is fallen upon all the land of Impland!”

“What’s the matter?” said Juss.

But Mivarsh ceased not to wail and to lament, saying, “Out harrow and alas for Fax Fay Faz and Illarosh Faz and Lurmesh Faz and Gandassa Faz and all the great ones in the land!” And when they would have questioned him he cried again, “Curse ye bitterly Philpritz Faz, which betrayed