Next day we advanced in good order, reaching the river at midmorning. The Host of Osterland was massed along the north bank. I sent a messenger to report it, and he returned (as I expected) with a summons from Arnthor. The Royal Pavilion had been set up by the time I reached the rear; Beel and the three dukes were seated inside, with Stonebowl, Gaynor, Morcaine, and Smiler. Arnthor himself presided, wrapped in his purple cloak. I had not expected the women, although I tried not to show it when I knelt and was invited to rise and claim a chair. Beel cleared his throat. "We've been conferring in your absence. His Majesty and His Highness think it best to ask your opinion before you hear ours. As we see it, there are three questions. First, should we attack at once? Second, if we do not, should we await an attack or retreat? Third, if we attack, in what order and with what plan?" I was collecting my thoughts and did not speak. "There are many other questions, granted. For example, should we parley? Should we go up or down the river and attempt a crossing at some other point? But His Majesty and His Highnessall of us, in factconcur in thinking the three I have stated central. Do you agree?" I addressed Arnthor. "I don't, Your Majesty. Most of the day is before us. Will Your Majesty and His Highness wait for sunset? If you'll wait, the answer to My Lord's questions is that we should attack. But if you won't, we should retreat." A long silence followed this, and a whispered conference between Stonebowl and Smiler. When it was over, Arnthor nodded to Beel, a nod that seemed to me to give permission to say whatever he thought best. "It is only just that I make you privy to our opinions nowthat is to say, to the opinions we voiced before your arrival. His Majesty reserved his. His Highness and his minister insisted on your presence. Her Majesty thought we should retreat. Her Highness urged that we wait, and" Morcaine interrupted. "I said stay here." She laughed. "If they attack, let them try. I think we can beat them and I want to try sorcery, which takes time." "They will be trying it, too, Sister." Arnthor gestured to Beel. "Their Graces favored an immediate attack. So do I. It seems to us that our situation is more likely to deteriorate than improve. You disagree, and we would like to know why." Stonebowl said, "The Son of the Blood of the Skai Dragon is in agreement with your worthy self, Sirable. He wishes you to know that he will support your decision." I thanked Smiler in his own language. Beel muttered, "I'd like to know how you learned their tongue," and Morcaine laughed. "I have not learned it," I explained. "I understand it, but I've never learned it. It's not a matter of study." Gaynor leaned forward as if to touch me. "You can never forgive me for imprisoning you. But won't you forgive me for trying to avert a battle that may end my husband's life?" I said, "I bear no animus toward Your Majesty in that or any other matter." Arnthor spoke for himself. "Whatever the outcome of our council, I will have a word with you after it." I made him a seated bow. "I am yours to command." "Then tell me how you can promise victory." "In the same way Their Graces and Lord Beel fear defeat. They know the Caan will have called for more troops from the north. My Lord Beel didn't say so, but that was surely in the minds of all those who urged that Your Majesty attack." I thought there might be contradiction, but none came. "Your Majesty, it would be folly to attack 'til we know more about the state of the river. I have two brave young men, Squire Wistan and Squire Yond, investigating it nowI gave the order before I came. We must know how deep it is, and how swift the current is. If there are shallow reaches, we must find them. Waiting until twilight will give us time for it. We should also bring up our supply train and the women and wounded, and set a guard on them. Waiting for twilight will provide time for that too." I drew a deep breath, resolved to lie and made my lie come true. "Most signally," I said, "I can promise you a thousand archers at twilight." Bahart, the youngest of the dukes, said, "Spun out of air in this wilderness? You're a wizard indeed if you can do that, Sir Able." Marder murmured, "Wouldn't it be better to let them make camp and get some sleep? We can attack tomorrow at sunrise." Thoas added, "If they're archers, their bows will avail nothing after nightfall." I nodded. "I had thought their bows deadly by night, Your Grace. Doubtless you know more of Aelfrice than I." Arnthor's eyes widened. "A thousand Aelf, Sir Able?" "At least a thousand, Your Majesty. I hope for more." Beel coughed. "We had archers from Aelfrice when we defeated Schildstarr of Jotunland at the pass, Your Majesty. I believe I told you of it. Two score, possibly." I nodded again. "Those were Fire Aelf, Salamanders. It's a weak clan, diminished by their slavery" Arnthor said, "To one who need not be named." "Your Majesty is wise. These will be Mossmen. Wood Aelf the ignorant name them, and the learned Skogsalfar." I turned to the three dukes. "Theirs is the strongest clan. We may get help from the Earth Aelf as well, the Bodachan. They are not warlike, but their aid is not to be despised." There was a silence, broken only by the whispering of Stonebowl and Smiler. When they had finished, I spoke to them, repeating what I had told the others. "You, Scatter of the Dragon's Blood, are my ultimate ancestor," Smiler said in response, "but let us have also the blessing of the Fox." I thanked him for the compliment and agreed. "I will endeavor to obtain it." I rose too when the others rose to go, but I remained in the pavilion with Arnthor. He sent his servants away, saying they were not to return until I sent them to him. "Your messenger said you wished to speak with us. Do you think us cowardly, Sir Able?" I shook my head. "Never, Your Majesty." "Yet we are. The blind man you told us of killed our brother. Who will kill us?" "I hope it will be Time, Your Majesty. I hope you will die, when you must die, full of years and wisdom." "We know better. Nor have we any wish to perish as you suggest. A thousand lovely virgins wait upon the Valfather." I did not speak. "We know who and what you are. Do not feign ignorance. We do not fear death. We fear that not one of the thousand will stoop for usthat we will be driven over the Bridge called Swords." "If I could promise a Valkyrie, I would," I told him. "I can't." "Nor did we think it." He studied me. Some instinct told me it might be dangerous to meet his eyes. I did not; yet they probed deep. "You did not lie with our queen." "Nor have I sought to, Your Majesty, knowing the effort would be fruitless." "Pah! You might go in to her tonight. She'd receive you with open arms. And legs. Will you?" "No, Your Majesty. That I will not." He was silent again, searching me. At length he said, "It is not enough to die with courage, Sir Able. One must die honorably. Since we're to die and know it, we have taken thought upon our honor. It is not unstained." "Nor mine, Your Majesty." Although my thoughts raced, I could not imagine what he was getting at. "We imprisoned you without cause, but we freed you and have raised you to honor. What more can we do?" I said, "I did not ask to speak with you privately to beg a favor, Your Majesty, but to make you a gift. I feared you'd refuse it, as I still do. Thus I hoped to give it when no one else was present." "The gift of death?" He threw back his cloak and spread his arms. "Strike!" "Never, Your Majesty." "You could not if you wished to, since we will not die by your hand. We wear no armor; you just observed it." I was more puzzled than ever. "We wear a sword belt. Perhaps you observed that, too. We did not lie when we told you we had lost your sword. It was with our baggage, which was captured." I cannot write down all the hope I felt at that moment, or my gratitude to the Valfather, who orders such things. "It was retaken in the Forest Fight and returned to us." A little shakily, Arnthor stood and unbuckled his sword belt. "You say you bring a gift. We've none to give here. But we return what is yours and reclaim our honor." Suddenly he smiled. "The scabbard is nicely decorated. And the hilt, though primitive, is beautiful. We could not judge the blade, because we were never able to draw it. Did you not wonder why no one described the spirits of men long dead fighting beside us?" I could not have spoken had I wished to. He handed me Eterne; and I felt that part of me, long lost, had returned. My hands acted of themselves. Thenoh, then! Ben, Ben, how I wish that you could hear what I heard: war cries no live man knows, and the hoofs of chargers dust a thousand years. The whole pavilion, big as it was, was thronged with fell men in armors of antique mold, knights with shining faces and eyes to make a lion cower. They knelt to Arnthor, and one said, "Do you learn in this hour, O King, why the span we cross is called the Bridge of Swords?" "We do." For an instant Arnthor, even Arnthor, seemed to hesitate. "You may not speak the secrets of Hel." They nodded. "We ask a question, even so. We hope its answer will not be among them. Though we could not draw it, we too bore the blade. Is it possible we may join you?" Phantom voices whispered, "It may beit may be." "Sheath it," Arnthor told me. I did and the knights faded, their deep voices still whispering, "It may be . . ." when nothing else remained. "You owe us no boon," Arnthor told me, "and we owe you many. We ask a boon nonetheless, for that is the privilege of kings. Centuries ago, an ancestor of ours wished to honor a certain knight above all others. He had already given him nobility, broad lands, and richesso much that he refused more. They exchanged swords, the king wearing the sword that had been that knight's forever afterward, and that knight wearing the sword that had been his king's. We have not given you our sword. It was your sword, the sword we took from you, the sword you won from a dragon if the tales are true. Yet it's the one we've worn since the Forest Fight returned it, and you have it. Will you give the sword you wear now?" I saw then how Parka shapes our fates, and took off my sword belt, and the sword Baki had found for me. "This is the gift I intended to give Your Majesty. I give it gladly. Wear it tonight, and I'll be honored above all others." He took it from me and put it on. "May we draw it?" "You may." He did, and the brand gleamed in his hand as it never had for me, filling the pavilion with gray light. "It thirsts." His voice had fallen to a whisper. "We have heard of such things. We never thought them true." "Most often they are not, Your Majesty." "Yet it does," he said. (I doubt that he had heard me.) "It walks in the desert and dreams of a lake of blood.
CHAPTER FORTY THE RIVER BATTLE
Wistan and Yond had found two points at which the river could be forded, although only with difficulty. The west crossing was the better of the two; I gave it to Arnthor, as well as the best fightersthe nobles and nearly all the knights, and Smiler and his Dragon Soldiers. I planned to take the east crossing, charging on Cloud (who would scarcely wet her belly). Toug and Rober were to ride behind me. After them, such wounded men-at-arms as could draw sword, the peasants, the Free Companies, and such Aelf as might be. We would attack first and draw the Caan's strength. It was a sound plan. Arnthor had agreed to wait until our attack had begun before he began his, and his men would be in the rear out of sight, giving us about fifteen minutes more. I told him that under no circumstances would we fight before sunset. In point of fact I meant to attack sooner, feeling that the more pressure I put on myself the more likely I was to succeed. It is always good to have a plan before battle, so I have found; but once battle is joined, the plan is liable to vanish like morning mist. So it was in the River Battle. Although Arnthor's force was to assemble out of sight of the river, I thought it prudent to station sentries along the bank, particularly at the fords, in case the enemy tried to cross; Sir Marc had charge of these. He was inspecting his men when a captain of the Osterlings shouted some insult. Rather than letting it pass in silence, Marc returned one of his own. The captain waded into the river, challenging Marc to meet him. Marc did, the captain's men attacked him when their captain fell, Marc's sentries ran to support him, and the fighting spread. All that I learned later. At the time, I heard shouts and the clash of weapons; Etela ran to tell me the Osterlings had reached the south bank, where Arnthor and his knights had met them. "We'll cross the river," I told her, "to take them from behind. Get to safety." She did not, although it was some time before I knew it. I asked Cloud to crouch so I could mount. She looked Skaiward instead, pricking her ears to catch the voice that rolled upon Mythgarthr. I heard it too, and when she sprang into the air, cantering up a faint breeze, no thought of mine came to trouble her. I could have tried to turn her back; I knew it was impossible and did not try. I should have taken a horse. I did not, but waded out alone. Arrows struck my hauberk. More whistled past my ear. I had been holding Eterne out of the water; I drew her. They came from all directions, or so it seemed to me, faint to the eye but loud to the ear. Their blades could not yet killwe were in full sun, although the sun was low. But it was no small thing to feel the bite of those swords, no phantom touch or tickle. I heard the screams, and saw men drop their spears to clutch wounds that did not bleed. More substantial help followed: Toug and Rober mounted, with the wounded men-at-arms behind them also mounted. After them, the outlaws and peasants, running and shouting, all on foot. I had been afraid both groups would hang back, and had done all I could to support leaders who seemed eager for war; both fought far better than I expected. Wistan and I were at their head, by no means shamed by our men. Men and women, I ought to have said, for although the women who had come with their men were not many, they fought bravely I shall come to that later, Ben, or try to. The last of our mounted men had passed before I climbed out of the river, soaked to the waist with my boots full of water. I had meant to lead them in a wide semicircle, and to take the enemy in the rear, as I had told Etela. Now they had Toug and Rober to lead them. Both were brave, and even Toug, young as he was, had some knowledge of tactics. They might do as I had planned; but if they did not, there was nothing I could do about it. As for me, I had this ragtag band on foot, and had to do the best I couldget Celidon a victory as cheaply as might be. For us no semicircle was possible. I decided to move left along the bank, roiling up any Osterlings we met and hitting the flank of those fording the river. We had crossed without much opposition, in a mass that was on the way to becoming a mob. I halted it, and got them to form ranks as they had been trained to. The archers had of course held their bows above water and kept their strings dry. I put them in a line on our flank, where they could keep off slingers and bowmen. The charge of a dozen horsemen would have scattered them like starlings, but no such charge came. The horsemen had work enough already. I put those with the best shields in front, with pikes behind them to thrust between the shields. The rest were massed behind the pikes, with Wistan to keep order and see that someone picked up the pike or shield when a buddy fell. I stayed six paces ahead, marching boldly and turning every few steps to shout orders or encouragement. We needed flags. We needed trumpets and drums. We had none, but someone (I could guess who) got the women in back singing and shouting and clapping, and maybe that was better than trumpets and drums. "Step out!" I told them. "Step out lively there!" And step out we did. "Disiri! Disiri! Disiri!" Some Osterlings had come to know that shout; and whether they knew it or not, we were many. If we were half trained and worse armed, it cannot have been apparent to those who fled us. We had gone a surprising way west along the river when we met a hundred or so determined to make a stand. Their captain had one of those pole maces they favor. Eterne hewed the iron chaps behind the head and left him with a stick. He flung it at me and tried to draw sword, but I took off his arm at the elbow before I split his helm. A score of his men were at me like terriers. I remember cutting through two spears and putting my blade in the belly of one tall fellow who looked as if he had eaten nothing but grass for the past month. I recall wondering whether Wistan had sense enough to see to it that the weapons of the men I was killing went to those who needed them. Other than that, almost nothing. It is well to strike hard; but it is bettermuch betterto strike quickly. Garvaon had taught me, and I struck as quickly as I could, not thinking of Garvaon or much of anything: cut, cut, cut, thrust. Get the shield in front of the eyes. Fast! Fast, before another comes to help. Thrust under it. Thrust hard and deep and very fast, before he gets it down. His leg's outkick the knee, fast and hard. Slash before he recovers. I caught one Osterling in his dirty fangs with bottom of my shield, and saw a pike-head in his chest before I could follow up. They were running, and the riverbank much too far to my left, and ahead a great cloud of boiling dust in which a flag and a few plumes were visible, a cloud so thunderous that the trumpeting of an elephant sounded small and lonely, like the crying of a child. We would take the cloudthe cloud that was an armyin the flank. We would damage and delay it, and that might be enough; but whether it was enough or not, it would turn and crush us. I ordered my brave, desperate, untrained, badly armed troops forward, and ran ahead of them shouting, "Disiri!" Our arrows raked the cloud. It might do some good. Better to die than not fight and know that Rober and Lamwell would have fought like the heroes they were. And then the dragon roared above us belching flame, and wheeled in air (I had stopped to look up) and came at us so low its wind stirred the parched dust, and straight for me. Its flame washed over me, and its jaws closed on me, burning; but the sun's last rays were sapping its reality still. It could not lift me or crush me, and our arrows flew through its scales and into its vitals. It rose with a wild cry that swiftly became a cry of triumph. The sun was setting, and the blazing breath that had been weak as a candle in sunlight strengthened every second. It circled, skimming the Osterling army it had made its own. The shadows that had been sharp when we crossed the river were vanishing, melting into a general darkness. And the dragon, Ben, was as real as I, as real as Setr had been in Aelfrice, a monster of jade and jet. I had failed to think of Garvaon earlier, and I failed to think of him thenand of Svon, who had fought Setr and lived. There was no time. No time for anything but to shout nonsense at the men who followed me, wave my sword above my head, and dash to meet the dragon. Knights in antique armor galloped past me. The dragon roared to shake the earth, but they shook it in cold fact. I felt it tremble under the blows of a hundred iron-shod hooves. Lances shattered on the dragon's scales; two struck home in the fiery mouth. That was when I did the thing I had hoped to do when I spoke with Arnthor, the thing Michael had done beside the pool. All that I had told Toug became true for me; and the Aelf, even Disiri, were less than dreamsonly thoughts to be created and dismissed at will. I called for them as a god, and my call compelled them. The Osterlings before me and the men behind me halted, and in the sudden silence I heard a humming overhead, as if a million bees had taken flight. I looked up, and the sky was full of arrows. Disiri had come, and two thousand with her: Mossmen and Mossmaidens, Salamanders, Ice Aelf, and the little Bodachan who have in them no delight in war but fight (when they do) because they must, asking no quarter and giving none. There are songs and tales of that battle, Ben. I know you cannot hear them and I cannot equal them; I will outline it here, but nothing more. Toug and Rober took the Osterlings in the rear, as I had hoped. We struck the flankthe Knights of the Sword, the Aelf, and those who followed me. The Osterlings held longer than their Caan had any right to expect, fighting the bravest knights the world has seen in a sleet of arrows. Arnthor spoke, their dragons turned on them, and they broke and fled; those south of the river, seeing the battie had been lost behind them, fled too. Great execution was made among them. Greater still when they halted to hold the north bank. They were the best that Osterland had to show, the Spahis and the Caan's own war band, and few lived. Beyond that, I can only give some incidents. When we were attacking the flank and everything had been thrown into confusion, I saw as if in a fever two blind men wielding staves, directed by a half-grown child and a woman with a sword. You will have guessed the identity of these four. You will not have guessed that Bold Berthold took a spear in the belly before the moon was high. Once I fell, and the chief who had stunned me stood over me to strike again. He knew who I was, I think, and hoped that I would beg for my life so that he might boast of it afterward. The scarecrow who saved me had been shaped of moss and mud, of twigs and bark and fresh green leaves. I knew, and taking off the old helm I embraced lovely Disiri there on the battlefield. Arnthor met the Black Caan at water's edge. The Black Caan fell, and though the weight of his mail sunk his body, the current bore it away and it was never found. Arnthor lived long enough to learn that we had triumphed, but not longer. Marder and Bahat covered his body and let no one see it; it was burned that night on a pyre of broken lances and arrows, and shattered shields. If I had seen it, I might explain why Gaynor so adamantly refused him. I did not, and offer no guess. He lacked his brother's magnetism and vaulting ambition, and it was well he did. He was inclined to brutality and avarice, but kept both in check better than most such men. He was courageous, and just without mercyor at least with little. His line had provided Celidon with wiser kings and better commanders, but none more cunning. He never unbent, and if he had many willing servants, he had no friends. There was another incident later. I will tell you that in a later place. When the battle was over and I had sheathed Eterne, I assembled those I had led. It was only then I learned of Bold Berthold's wound and realized that he would surely die. Otherwise I might not have chosen as I did. Toug and Rober were there, and old Gerda, who had helped with the wounded until she could scarcely stand. So were Lynnet, Etela, and Vil. Wistan had a bandage over half his face, put there by Ulfa, and Uns attended him in a way that showed he thought Wistan might faint or die. I made them sit nearer the fire, and sent Pouk for Gylf, whom we had double-chained in the rear to save his life. I did not say much or do anything before they joined us. "Friends," I said, and I tried to look past the nearest to the exhausted faces farther from the fire. "I owe you a great deal. I can't reward you as you deserve, and it may be you will never be rewarded for having saved your country. What I can do is tell you the truth, and let you see what I'm going to dowhat I'm going to keep doing 'til I'm stopped. Which will be soon." They stirred, but no one spoke. "First, the truth. I had thought to lead you on Cloud. I had lost her. You will recall that I did not have her on our march south, not 'til we met the Dragon Soldiers. In his goodness, Lothur restored her to me. He may have thought I'd break an oath I gave his father in payment. That would've been the end of me, as it will be very soon. I didn't, but at the worst possible moment his father took her back. It did us great harm, and the fault is mine. I confess it to you now." Several muttered objections. I silenced them. "That was the truth, and you have it. Here is more. In Skai, the Valfather, the greatest and kindest of all kings under the Most High God, gave me power. Years later I begged to return here. He consented on the condition that I not use my power here, and I swore I wouldn't. "I'm an oath-breaker, since I broke that one when the Osterlings were besieging Redhall. Some of you were there, and will not forget the storm I raised. Tonight I'm going to break it again, openly and for as long as I can." Exhausted though they were, that stirred them. I called to Bold Berthold. He could not stand, but Pouk and Uns helped him. I tore away his bandage and healed him. "Kneel," I told him, "and Gerda beside you." He was exploring the spot where his wound had been, but he knelt; Ulfa brought Gerda and had her kneel too. I put a hand on each head and felt my power flow out. It took a lot to restore the thing he had left in a pond so long ago. When I opened them again, they were kneeling still. I wondered at the silence, because I expected a lot of noise, but the others were watching by firelight and could see only their bent backs. Bold Berthold's hair was black once more. Gerda's was the color of ripe corn. Yet my hands were still on their heads, and even the closest could not be sure. I told Bold Berthold and Gerda to rise. They did, and Bold Berthold exclaimed, "I can see! I can see!" Gerda embraced him and they
weptthis though she was fair and young again, with laughing eyes. Etela tugged my sleeve, weeping too. I knew what she wanted, and had Ulfa bring Lynnet to me. "You are not my son," Lynnet said, "and yet you are. Will you make me go?" "Never," I told her. "But I cannot make you live again. That is beyond me. Kneel. I don't have much time." She knelt. The derangement of Lynnet's mind was deep and hard, so that I felt I was picking a knot with my nails and my teeth; I loosed it at last, and I had her stand. She smiled, and I at her, and we embraced. "Mag is still with me," she whispered. "She came on that sea isle. You won't make her go home?" "No," I said. Gylf next, and swiftly and easily. And then I knew, for I saw him, standing behind those farthest from the fire. I thought he would speak when I called for Uns. He did not. As for me, I found I could hardly whisper. I laid my hand on Uns' hump, something I had never done before. "Stand straight." How slowly he rose! He thought it a dreamI saw that in his face. He thought he was dreaming, and feared at every finger's width gained that he might wake. Toug came to stand by him. Toug was crying, and so was I. Wistan was almost the last. Before I healed him, I thought of how he had fought with Toug in Utgard; that was long over and he had served me faithfully. "You were there in the beginning," I told Pouk. "It is not right you should be last now. I hope I have time." "I got a eye, sir. Take Vil." I had forgotten him, and had Pouk bring him forward. For a moment or two, I felt I lacked the strength. He took my hand when it was over, and put something in it, a thing that buzzed and sang with many voices. "I want to pay, Sir Able. Ain't enough, but it's what I got. When I got more, you'll get that too." "My bowstring." "Yes, sir. Yours again." I was exhausted and very happy at that moment, Ben. I made Pouk come to me and blew into his blind eye. He said, "Thankee, sir! Thankee!," and I hugged him and he me, and I knew that he too had been healed, and I could heal no more. I wanted to sit, but the tall man in the wide hat was coming and it was impossible. "You have done, Drakonritter." It was not a question. I bowed my head. "You are shamed." His eye gleamed in the dark. "You would end your life if I asked, and will end it in any case." "I will, Valfather." My hand had found my dagger. "I forbid it! But I expect no obedience from you. You will die when Winter and Old Night whelm us. So will I. So will my son Thunor, who does not believe it. Meanwhile, I thank you for mending my dog. Shall I return Cloud?" "No," I said. "I'll give you another, younger, of the same breed." "No," I said again. "You thought my son Lothur kind and generous. He is neither. What you saw as his generosity was only groundwork for betrayal. If you had known him as others do, you would have seen it at once." Something kindled in me, and I raised my head. "I never entreated your son for help, nor did any act of mine deserve his gratitude. He told Morcaine to summon me and offered his help. We were starving and too weak to face our foes. He brought us food and men. I will make no complaint of himnever again." "Others he has treated better have spoken worse." There was a smile in the Valfather's tone. "Are you coming back?" I said nothing. "Few have been askedSir Able. Even once." "I am not Able," I whispered. "You are. I'll summon Cloud, and you and I will mount. Together we will ride to Skai." I could not talk, Ben. I have sometimes when I found it so hard that I wondered afterward how I did it. This time I could not. Etela took my hand; her face was wet with tears, but she was not crying then. "He's afraid she won't come with him," Etela told the Valfather. "She would not, child." His voice had become remote and severe. "She cannot." He turned away. Disiri had been watching and listening. She stepped out of the shadows. The Valfather gestured to Wistan. "You've served your knight faithfully. You must do him one service more. Bring his helm and set it on his head." Wistan did. Lovely Disiri became a puppet of mud and leaves. That was horrible, but I had expected it. Two other things I had not expected and cannot explain. The Valfather was a bright shadow. Nothing more. And Bold Berthold, who had been sitting beside Gerda, vanished. She was the same lovely young woman, but Berthold was gone and you, Ben, sat in his place. As I say, I cannot explain these things. "You see what you are surrendering," the bright shadow told me, "and know to what it is you go. What will you do?" I drew my dagger, pushed up the sleeve of my hauberk, and cut my arm. "Drink," I told Disiri, and she bent and drank of my blood. Not a few drops, as Aelf often do, but great sobbing-gulps while I clenched and unclenched my fist so that human life flowed freely, never stopping until a small, green-eyed woman stood beside me. When I looked for the bright shadow again, it had gone. Soon Disiri and I went, too, I leaning on her, for I had lost much blood and was weak. Here is the third incident I promised. We went slowly, and twice I fell. By the time we reached the river, fresh sunlight had dyed the clouds a thousand colors, though the sun's face was still below the eastern mountain. I stopped at the edge of the water, not sure I could make the crossing. A beautiful young woman supported the knight I saw reflected there; but that knight was not a boy but a grim warrior whose eyes gleamed from the slits of his helm. I took it off and cast it into the river, and when the ripples had subsided, Disiri and I were just the same. We live in Aelfrice, and for whole days we are children again, as we were the first time I came. Children, we run and shout among the groves and grottoes of an endless wood more beautiful than any you will ever see. Children, we go to the sea I love, to splash in the shallows and play with kelpies. She has given me a new dog, a white puppy with red ears. I call him Farvan; and at night we speak to him of the play now past and the play to come and he tells us puppy things. But we are not always children, and sometimes we lie upon our backs in fine green grass to watch the world above where time runs swift. There we saw Marder knight Wistan and Bold Berthold slay Schildstarr. Soon time will ripen, and we will come again. Michael has found me at last, and that is why I have written this for you, Ben. He tells us of a great lord in need of a knight. I have told Michael that I will be this lord's champion if I may bring my lady. He says it will be permitted. We go soon. You will see this, Ben, for Michael has found a way. Do not worry about me. I am fine.