"What sort of plunder?" asked Giles.
"I don't know," said Jim. "Probably there are some ordinary valuables there, in the shape of jewels and things like that—or even some money. But the real values would be in Carolinus's tools, such as his scrying glass and other things that could be resold to younger magicians who needed them. Altogether, they'd probably have found enough inside the cottage to make getting in well worthwhile. But if we can take Carolinus safely back to the castle, keep him warm and comfortable, and feed him on some wholesome food of the sort he needs, I think he may come out of it all right."
"Now, that is right good to hear!" said Giles. "I said I had never met him until we were in France; but like the rest of the world, I have heard of him. He is spoken of as one of the great magicians; not merely of our time, but of all time."
"I believe that," said Jim sincerely. "Now I've got to know him."
They went at a walk, to spare Carolinus as much jolting in his horseback-carried litter as possible. But even at that they were back at Malencontri Castle in a very short time. As they pulled their mounts to a stop in the courtyard, the column of their movement disintegrated into a close body; and stable hands came running.
"If you would be so kind, Sir James," said Chandos as they all dismounted, "would you send for the good Sir Brian Neville-Smythe, the bowman and the wolf who joined you in France last year? I would like them to join us as well."
"Theoluf!" said Jim, looking over at his squire. "Would you send immediately to Castle de Chaney—or wherever—and have Sir Brian made acquainted with the fact the most honorable knight, Sir John Chandos, is guesting with us here; and would like to speak with him right away?"
"Yes, m'Lord," answered Theoluf and turned to one of the men-at-arms who had been their escorts and began giving him directions.
"—And send a carrier pigeon to Dafydd, Sir John wants him, too. Now get these people who have no business down here out of the courtyard, will you?" added Jim. "We'll have the whole castle down here next."
Indeed, there was real danger of that. The people of the castle, all those who could contrive any excuse at all to get away from their work and come out, were gaping at Sir John Chandos. They did not recognize him, of course—he lived in a different world than theirs—but they were fascinated by the plate armor, of which they had all heard but which none of their rank, of course, had ever seen; it being restricted to Kings, high nobility and other both wealthy and noble personages at this time in history—a very rare thing to behold, indeed.
The castle blacksmith, in fact, had drawn so close to the fascinatingly shaped solid metal that he was almost in amongst them. Jim glared at him, and the man backed off with a mumbled, "Sorry, m'Lord." But he did not go back to his forge, where one of the plowmen was waiting impatiently to have a horseshoe finished.
"As for the wolf, Sir John." said Jim, turning back to the older knight, "I will do what I can, but he can be any place; and there is no telling whether he would come if asked or not. He is a very independent creature."
"So I understand." Sir John smiled. "It is a characteristic of wolves, they tell me. Still, will you do what you may? Meanwhile, I wonder if you would join me and Sir Giles in some privy place for a discussion of the matter that's occasioned this visit. I will just say a word or two now, until Sir Brian and, hopefully, the wolf arrive, then leave Sir Giles to fill you in on the rest, while perhaps—"
He glanced over to meet the gaze of Angie.
"—Lady Angela would be good enough to show me about your castle." He smiled winsomely at her. "We military captains are always interested in fortifications."
"I'm afraid showing you around will have to wait a little while, Sir John," said Angie crisply. "I—and I think m'Lord should come with me—must see to Carolinus first. It'll be necessary to make sure he's decently bedded down in a clean room; and provided with those who will care for him. After that, maybe you and I can do a tour of the castle."
"How could I object to such a sense of duty?" said Sir John. "I accept being overruled. By all means, I must confess the seriousness of the Mage's case had slipped my mind. Indeed, he must be taken care of first, and with all necessary effort and time. My business can wait."
"Thank you, Sir John," said Jim. "I'll go along with Angie, then. I'll join you as soon as Carolinus is settled."
By this time Theoluf had managed to chase most of the idlers out of the courtyard, except those who had at least a passable excuse for being there. Jim and Angie headed the procession in through the front door of the castle to its Great Hall. They headed toward the Hall's inner end; where, on a low dais, the high table sat cross-wise to the lower table which ran the length of the room.
To Jim's surprise, the high table was not empty, although with both himself and Angie absent, he knew of no one in the castle with the rank enough to be seated there. But as they got closer he recognized the stout, half-armored figure seated at the high table with a pitcher—undoubtedly of wine—and a cup before him.
This figure bounced to his feet as Jim approached the dais with the rest of the company.
"Two cows! Two fine, young milk cows!" shouted the figure. It was, Jim saw, Sir Hubert Whitby, another neighbor of his. By the time Whitby had finished shouting, Jim was close enough for him to speak in a normal voice; but the other knight did not, Sir Hubert never let pass an opportunity for shouting. It was simply a habit of his.
He continued, at close to the top of his voice.
"It's your dragons who've done it!" he roared. "Nothing left but horns and a scrap of bone or so, not even the hides, and a lot of torn-up, bloody dirt. It's your dragons, I say! You've got to make them stop it—and pay me back for those two cows!"
"They're not my dragons," said Jim in the most reasonable voice he could manage. He had found that nothing lowered Sir Hubert's voice down as effectively as being spoken to softly. The other was not the tallest knight thereabout, and even standing below the dais Jim was almost eye to eye with him. Jim went on. "Besides, there isn't one of them that'd do anything I ordered him or her to. They're as independent as we humans. What makes you think—"
He was about to go on and ask Sir Hubert why the other thought that he, Jim, should bear any responsibility at all even if the dragons were doing it, when he heard something like the faint husk of a breath from Carolinus in the litter, and looking down saw the old man had his eyes open.
Once Jim's eyes were on him Carolinus's head moved slightly from left to right and back again in an undeniable shake of the head.
"All right," said Jim in his most conciliatory manner, "I'll see what can be done. Meanwhile, let me introduce you to our honorable guests."
He turned to the plate armored figure just behind him.
"Sir John," he said to it, "this is the good knight Sir Hubert Whitby, a close neighbor of mine." He turned back to Sir Hubert. "Sir Hubert, may I introduce the most noble and famous Sir John Chandos, who has come to pay us a short visit here at Malencontri."
Sir Hubert's jaw dropped. He had plump, reddish cheeks, gray-to-white eyebrows that were very bushy, some more white hairs sprouting out of his nose. There was also at least a day's white stubble of beard on his face. The hair on his head covered all the scalp there, but was also turning from gray to white. Altogether he would have made a potentially good Santa Claus; if he had only looked genial instead of outraged, as he did most of the time—his favorite occupation being to find something to get angry about, corner someone and bellow about it.
"Sir—Sir John?" he stammered now. "Sir John Chandos? I—er—forgive me, sir, for seeming somewhat annoyed—"
His voice had dropped—not exactly to a cooing level, but as close as a voice entirely unused to simpering politeness could come—
"Perhaps we could talk further—" he was continuing. He was looking at Jim. But Jim had had enough of Whitbyness. He'd be damned if he gave Sir Hubert the dinner invitation for which the other was obviously angling.
"If you'll forgive us
, Hubert," he said, "we have to look after Carolinus, now. After that, Sir John, Sir Giles and myself were looking forward to a private chat—just the three of us. I'll get in touch with you about your cows in a few days."
"But—but—" Sir Hubert was stammering. He could hardly go into an explosion over Jim's lack of neighborly hospitality with Sir John Chandos there. In any case, Jim, with Angie and the men carrying the litter, had begun to move toward the tower entrance and the rooms above, one of which could be made over into a place for Carolinus.
As the little cavalcade carrying Carolinus left the others behind, they passed the end of the high table and Jim reached out to snatch up the kettle. He was careful to grasp it by the wooden handle, because the rest of it was as hot as ever, keeping the water within it on the boil.
"Now what do you want that for?" asked Angie, as they left the Great Hall for the serving room, where dishes from the outside kitchen were brought to be served at the proper time, and began to start up the circular staircase to the floors above where the private rooms were.
Jim felt stubborn.
"I just think it'll be happier in the same room with Carolinus, that's all," he said, staring straight ahead at the stairs as they mounted them.
"Oh, for heaven's sake!" said Angie. "You're treating that thing as if it was alive. You can't seriously think that a kettle has feelings, even a magic kettle!"
"Well, I do," said Jim, still staring straight ahead. "I can't tell you why—maybe it's because I've been dealing with magic myself—but I just feel it's going to be happier in the same room next to Carolinus, keeping itself ready, as it always has, in case he calls for it to provide boiling water for a cup of tea."
Angie sighed, and fell silent.
They laid Carolinus down gently at last on the bed in the one small room Angie always insisted be kept furnished and ready, dusted and cleaned for a chance late-night traveler. Once the old magician was laid down there, Angie ruthlessly stripped off his night gown, and they saw that he had acquired several bad bed sores, which was not surprising considering the care he had been getting.
"May Heather," said Angie, decisively; for the youngest member of the kitchen staff had been picked up as they went through the serving room to act as a general messenger for whatever they should need once they had Carolinus settled, "fetch me Margot, Edwina, and Mary. Tell them to start some cloths to boiling for bandages and bring me some fresh lard that hasn't been touched, as well as a couple of the clean kitchen buckets full of the boiling water that should be ready there at all times. If it isn't, I'm going to have somebody's hide!"
She turned on the men-at-arms.
"One of you stay here," she commanded. "The others can take off."
They went.
She looked at Jim.
"You might as well take off too, Jim. Get back down to your guests. I just wanted to tell you—be polite, but keep them away from this room. Carolinus needs rest, most of all. I've got a lot to do here, and you can't help. Carolinus is going to have to be washed and those bed sores paid some attention to. Now, everybody, off you go!"
Off they went—including Jim.
As he went back down the stairs by himself, he found himself puzzling a little over his feeling of empathy toward the kettle. Perhaps Angie was right and it was simply foolish of him. On the other hand, possibly there was something to what he had said without really thinking—that his exposure and involvement in magic had caused him to see magicked things in a new light. He would ask Carolinus, as soon as the other was well enough for questions.
He shied away from the possibility that Carolinus might never be available for those questions. That thought came to him belatedly, and left him with a cold feeling. Life here in this alternate, magical world, without Carolinus, brusque and irritable as the old Mage was most of the time, would be unthinkable.
Jim put the thought from him; and found his mind occupied with another question. It must have taken a great effort on Carolinus's part a short while ago when they were down in the Great Hall to open his eyes and signal Jim, even as slightly as he had done it, not to get into a discussion with Sir Hubert about Sir Hubert's cows and the dragons.
Why Carolinus should not want him to do this was another question. Something serious was going on. Carolinus saw, heard and knew a great many things about what was going on in the world; even though he seemed almost never to leave his cottage. If Carolinus was concerned, there was probably good reason for Jim to be concerned also.
The cold feeling in Jim's stomach, which had gone away with his stern dismissal of the idea that Carolinus might not recover, returned to him and stayed until he got back to the high table in the Hall; at which he found both Giles and Sir John Chandos seated with cups and jugs of wine, chatting. They were seated close together, Chandos at the very end of the table and Sir Giles on the back side, half facing him.
"Hah, Sir James," said Chandos, breaking off his words to Giles as Jim sat down next to the other knight. "It's good to have you back this quickly. I was afraid our friend the magician might occupy you for some time. Perhaps now we could find a place where we can discuss matters of import."
"How private do you need it, Sir John?" asked Jim, running his mind over the available places in the castle. Establishments like his in the fourteenth century were not over-supplied with rooms available for private talks; unless one was kept specifically for that purpose.
The servants were used to walking into any room, except Jim and Angie's, without warning; and few doors had bolts. What few private rooms there were, were either in use or thoroughly dirty, and crammed to the ceiling with everything from weapons to broken furniture. One of these now would already, at Angie's orders, be in process of clearing, cleaning and furnishing as a bedroom for Sir John and Giles.
So there was really only that one place available for what Sir John needed, Jim thought with an inaudible sigh—now that Carolinus had taken over the visitor's room.
"There's the solar," he went on, "which is the room Lady Angela and I keep for ourselves. Suppose we move up there?"
Chapter Six
"You must forgive me," said Sir John Chandos, some minutes later, "for coming on you thus unannounced and requiring the use of your personal chamber. But there are reasons."
"Not at all," said Jim. "You're welcome to anything I have."
It was the truth. He thought highly of Chandos. At the same time, as he sat with Sir John and Giles in the solar chamber that had been his and Angie's private territory alone—except for the intrusions of the servants occasionally to clean or even possibly bring them something to eat—he could not help feeling a mild sense of violation.
Into this room alone, they had allowed some touches of the comforts of the twentieth century to creep. The chairs he and Sir John sat in had not only backrests and armrests, but were padded in a fair imitation of twentieth-century furniture; and the stool that Sir Giles sat on, although it was like any other stool that might be found around a medieval castle, also had a padded seat and a backrest.
It was not a great space, but it had been solely Angie's and his; a place where, in a way, they could escape from this parallel, fourteenth-century world, which—as much as they liked it and however much they remained firm in the idea of spending the rest of their lives in it—was not what they had grown up with and come to take for granted. As long as it was his and Angie's, it had been that private place. Now it was no longer.
"—But I must explain," went on Sir John, unheeding, "that what I have to say to you deals with matters of the utmost secrecy."
Sir Giles could hardly echo this pledge, as he might have with someone else of lesser renown, but Jim saw—out of eyeshot of the elderly knight—his friend nod vigorously so that the ends of his heavy, but silky, mustache waved.
"I must say, though," went on Sir John, with a smile, "but you do seem to attract the troubles of this kingdom the way a steeple attracts lightning, Sir James. Beyond that I have no more on that subject to say. I w
ill tell you of our current troubles."
"Whatever you will, Sir John," said Jim.
"Thank you, m'Lord," said Chandos. "Well, to begin with, I learned by methods, knowledge of which must remain mine alone, of your visit to Sir Giles up at the Scottish border. I would naturally be interested in the two of you getting together; but even more than that was the fact that you, yourself would be on the Scottish border. It seemed to me inevitable that up there you must be drawn into the matter of the possible Scottish invasion of England, timed to coincide with one from France. And so it proved to be true; as I discovered after arriving at the Castle de Mer very shortly after you had left."
Jim nodded.
"I explained matters to Sir Giles," continued Sir John, "and Sir Giles set out with me immediately. We had hoped to overtake you. But since we did not know the exact route you would return home, we went somewhat astray and I only caught up with you finally in that moment in which you saw me, near the magician's cottage."
"And very glad I was to see you, Sir John," said Jim.
"Thank you, m'Lord," said Sir John, "but our aid was a trick—a paltry trick at that. Nonetheless, the circumstances required it; and it had its effect in allowing us all to come away easily and be together here now."
"But why search me out this way?" asked Jim. "I'd think you might have sent for me from London, from the King's palace for that matter—"
Sir John waved a dismissive hand.
"It is impossible to speak at court without fear of being overheard. For that matter," he said, "it would be impossible for us to speak anywhere in London or in any other place where I am well known, without the danger of others listening."
Jim nodded. This was only too understandable. His own castle had no safe place for keeping secrets either—except for a few rare exceptions like this solar and the privately occupied rooms—like the one that would be Carolinus's.
"At the Castle de Mer, or here in yours of Malencontri," Chandos continued, "I can feel more sure that our words will not be carried away to do us harm. Even if they were passed on merely in idle, innocent gossip, by a servant. To begin with, I must honor you for your good work with the Hollow Men and the frustration of the Scottish intent to invade. The word that reaches me is that the Scottish Crown has abandoned that idea for the moment, completely."