"Ah," said the voice of Dafydd, "that explains something."
Jim looked down the table at him.
"What's that, Dafydd?" he asked.
"Why, the behavior of the arrow once it had pierced the steel of the breastplate of the one I struck, and from whom we recovered arrow, armor and clothing," answered Dafydd. "The arrow did not behave as if it had to penetrate flesh, muscle, or even bone beneath the armor, but as if it had gone through merely into an empty space."
He became thoughtful.
"There is a chance, there…" he said. "I must think on it…"
"But if there was nothing there—and in that case how could there be anything there to hurt?" asked Brian. "How was it we found his armor and clothing on the ground, as if he had been slain?"
"He had been slain—but only for forty-eight hours," answered Herrac. "At the end of that time, any one of them who has been killed comes back to life. Though, in this case, he will have to find himself new clothes and armor before he can be other than air. And he cannot begin even to search for such clothes and armor until forty-eight hours after he was struck down by your arrow, Master bowman."
He paused to look directly at Dafydd, who nodded.
"That is the great curse of these Hollow Men," Herrac went on to the table at large. "We can slay them occasionally, we can drive them off, often, but their numbers are not depleted and they keep coming back. Moreover, over the years they have acquired a good store of armor and weapons, so that I doubt not but what the one you killed forty-eight hours from now, after he has found his way back to life, will shortly be able to turn himself once more into a dangerous opponent."
A silence fell on the table.
Jim was thinking deeply. There was a strong feeling in him that Herrac was holding something back—something worse about the Hollow Men than he had yet told them. An ugly thought came like a cold wind out of nowhere to Jim.
When Carolinus, friend and tutor in magic though he was, had first held a dream-conversation with Jim, when Jim had been in France the previous year, he had admitted that—without consulting Jim first—he had pushed Jim into a position of going into a contest with Malvinne, who was a AAA magician and infinitely Jim's superior, since Jim was only a D class magician. But Malvinne had sometime since fallen under the influence of the Dark Powers. Could something about these Hollow Men mean Carolinus had acted so, again?
Jim remembered now how opportunely Carolinus, appearing at Jim's castle apparently by chance, at the time when Angie had been strongly objecting to Jim making this trip, had taken Jim's side with arguments that had considerably weakened Angie's position.
At that time, Carolinus had pointed out that Jim's duties in this world could not be avoided, if he was to maintain his present reputation.
Jim had a sudden uneasy feeling that for his own reasons Carolinus might have pushed him into this particular situation deliberately. Though this was hard to believe. For one thing it had been determined, even before the dead body of Giles slid into the gray waters of the English Channel, that he, Brian and Dafydd should search out his family as soon as possible and tell them of Giles's end, as well as of the heroism it had involved.
On the other hand, there was that question of whether the Dark Powers actually had decided to concentrate on him, again.
It was beginning to stretch coincidence that he should first find himself in a contest with them in the matter of the Loathly Tower, upon first coming to this world with Angie. Then he should discover he was opposing them over Malvinne. Now he had landed in a place where there were unnatural beings who clearly were not on the side of good; and obviously were ripe to be used as pawns by the Dark Powers—even if they were not already so being used.
"Can you tell me some of the things they've done?" Jim asked Herrac.
"As many as you like," answered Herrac.
So, for the next hour, that is what he and Giles did, telling Jim of incident after incident while the levels of the wine in the pitchers sank and the pitchers were refilled again and again.
The attacks—or forays of the Hollow Men, since when they attacked in a force of fifty or more it could hardly be called simply an attack—apparently had two aims. Though their ranks included the souls of men going back through history, their primary aim seemed to be to get modern armor for all of them, and the best of the modern armor they could find. Secondarily, when alive, they apparently wanted food and wine, or the money with which to buy it; for there were those who would sell, even to them.
They always attacked against a lesser number, counting on their own numbers to overwhelm opposition.
In the beginning, perhaps this may have been partially because only a few of them were well armed and armored. But in the last couple of hundred years, it seemed to be because they did not fight well as a group; tending to be disorderly at all times and to lack any kind of unified command.
In fact, most of their attacks were with less than fifteen or twenty of their numbers, and aimed only at killing living people to get their weapons, armor, and whatever food, wine or wealth the victims were carrying.
Lately, however, their attacks had seemed better organized than the usual raids; and to have as an aim establishing control of a general area south of, and up into, the Cheviot Hills.
Also, eventually, when the wine had begun to show its effect visibly on the sons—though not on the father—the fact came out that, though no one could discover the source of it, the de Mers, like many of their neighbors, had recently been accused of acts that actually had been committed by the Hollow Men.
Enough of their neighbors had been so falsely accused that Herrac was beginning to think of seeing if he could not get a force together, after all, to attack the Hollow Men on their home ground. But at the present time, the number of such neighbors willing to join in was too small to penetrate deeply into that area of the Cheviot Hills held by the Hollow Men, where they might be encountered in numbers of hundreds, or even more.
At this point, Herrac abruptly introduced another subject.
"There is lately, also," he said, "strong new rumors of a Scottish invasion of this Northumberland; and possibly beyond, down into England's midlands."
"Say you so?" demanded Brian, interestedly leaning forward over the table.
"I do," answered Herrac. "Further, there is talk that the Hollow Men might use this opportunity of an invasion to rob and kill far and wide across the Border. Faced with the Scottish invaders, plus the Hollow Men—like ravens—ready to feed on a battlefield of corpses; such as our Castle de Mer, would stand little chance of not being overrun and all of us slain. For such as myself and Giles, this is the ordinary chance of life. But for my other sons, not yet knighted, and my only daughter—" He glanced expressively at the sons seated beyond Giles.
"But England and Scotland are at peace right now, I thought," said Sir Brian.
Like Sir Herrac, he did not seem to be visibly affected by the large amount of wine he had drunk. About the only thing that showed in these two older knights was that they were speaking more openly about things than they had earlier.
"Yes," Herrac answered, "but all it takes is for one of the lairds who has a fair number of clansmen to set in motion what seems to be a cattle raid. They will end up picking up men on the far side of the border to swell their ranks before they come down upon us."
"Is it so?" said Dafydd.
"Indeed, Master Welshman," answered Herrac, "this tower has been our refuge too many times for me to count over its years; when attacked by a force great enough to burn and destroy our outbuildings, but not enough to reach us in the tower itself; and without the patience for a siege that might make us surrender—though they little know that in the worst case we need not surrender. The outer wall looks directly over the sea; and once in the sea—"
He stopped speaking abruptly. It had been accepted by this time that the three guests knew that the family had selkie blood; but it was one thing to have it known, and something else agai
n to speak openly about it with those who were only recent friends.
In fact, with that sudden interruption of what he had been about to say, Herrac seemed to realize that he had said more than he had intended. Abruptly, he stood up from his bench at the table.
"If you will excuse me, gentles and Master bowman," he said, "these are things local; and need not concern you further. I must to bed; and—
He looked down the table to his sons.
"—And these should be abed too. Come, Alan, Hector, William, Christopher, time is that you were asleep. Giles, because you are now a belted knight, and these are friends of yours, I leave you to stay with them as long as you wish."
But Giles rose to his feet also, stretching.
"If they will forgive me, Father," he said, "I think it were time I slept also. James, Brian, Dafydd, would you pardon me, if I should leave you now?"
"I've a better idea," said Jim, getting up in his turn. "I've no exact plans for tomorrow, but I've heard a lot tonight I'd like to sleep on."
Brian had gotten to his feet almost as quickly as Jim. Dafydd, however, still sat where he was. He looked at Sir Herrac.
"Would it be possible now," he asked, "for you to supply me with a candle to work by? There is a small thing that I would like to try making with one or more of my arrows."
For a fleeting moment, Sir Herrac looked uncomfortable.
"I am most deeply sorry, Master bowman," he answered, "but candles are one thing that Castle de Mer does not have. However, there is a cresset torch in your room, if your friends can sleep with it burning."
"For myself," said Brian, "I could sleep with the sun itself in my eyes, I believe now. I had not realized how welcome sleep would be, until I began to consider it. James?"
"I won't mind," said Jim.
But Dafydd looked at him shrewdly.
"It is in my mind," he said to Jim, "that you are being more polite than truthful, m'Lord. If our host will permit, I will stay here and work at this table, where the torches of the hall itself will give me light."
"Whatever you prefer," said Sir Herrac, quickly.
"Well—" Jim hesitated; but he too had drunk enough wine to be a little more outspoken than ordinarily, "yes, to tell you the truth, Dafydd, I'd rather not have anything but a low light in our sleeping room, if any. In fact, I was thinking of taking a torch there that would burn for perhaps no more than fifteen minutes, before leaving us to sleep in darkness."
"Let it be so then," said Sir Herrac. "To your sleeping quarters, my sons."
They all, except Dafydd, left the hall together, each of them stopping to pick up one of the already bound bundles of twigs that lay ready against the wall and light it from the nearest cresset. Giles took two, and led Jim and Brian to the room in which they had already deposited their goods. Once there, he handed the torch to Brian and hesitated for a moment in the doorway—
"I cannot tell you how much it means to me to see you again," he said.
Then, as if embarrassed by his own words, he ducked out of the door with his torch and disappeared down the hall. Brian put the torch he carried into the cresset on the wall. This moment, however, Dafydd suddenly appeared in the doorway.
"Forgive me, m'Lord—Brian," he said formally. "I had forgot that my shafts and tools were up here. I will be gone in a moment."
He crossed the room to the bags that had ridden behind his saddle; and carried all he had brought with him beyond what he had worn or carried. He picked up both his quiver and one small bag.
"I will return lightly and silently, I promise you," he said.
"No need to worry, Dafydd," said Brian, with a tremendous yawn. "I vow I could sleep through a taking of this castle, itself."
"No, indeed," said Jim, "you won't disturb us when you come in, Dafydd."
"I thank you both," said Dafydd, and vanished.
Brian sat down on the edge of the bed, finished pulling off his boots, and without any further preparation tumbled over and stretched out on the bed.
"It is a shame your magician's training forbids your lying soft as I am now," said Brian. "Well, well. Heigh—ho! Good night!"
"Good night," answered Jim.
He lay down on the mattress he had earlier unrolled on the stone floor and rolled himself up in it. The mattress was not very successful in softening the hard surface underneath; but from long use with it, Jim found it comfortable enough. He lay thinking over the evening's talk, while the torch burned itself down in the cresset, and finally expired from flames to glowing ends of smoldering wood, to absolute darkness.
Brian and Dafydd, Jim already suspected, were expecting to stay on more than the week, after all. It was simply not done to leave a friend and the friend's family just when they might be expecting an attack by overwhelming odds—
—Of course! How could he have been so stupid not to realize it until now? Understanding suddenly lit up Jim's mind. That was the "bothering" Herrac had been subtly inquiring of Giles, just before dinner.
There must be indeed something at work up here concerning not only the Dark Powers and the Hollow Men, but possibly a Scottish invasion of England as well. The de Mer Castle and family probably did face serious danger; and Herrac had been afraid one of his sons would blurt out a question or an assumption that these three champions of song and story would stay and help them deal with it. If Brian suspected this, Jim was on the spot. Brian—and Dafydd as well, for all his apparent mildness—liked to fight almost as much as they liked to eat. Not only that, but Brian's code of honor would never let him abandon the de Mers in such a situation and he would never understand it if Jim did—close friends as they were.
On the other hand Jim could just imagine how Angie would react if he did not appear on time, after all. Particularly if she heard about the situation up here.
Curiously, it was only with the coming of complete darkness that he found his mind working to some purpose.
He had contacted Carolinus once from France by willing himself to dream of the magician. At that time Carolinus had warned him that Malvinne also dreamed; and that this was a risky way for the two of them to be in contact, since Malvinne would know anything they said to each other.
Also, at that time what his dream had shown him was essentially a replay of the scene in which Carolinus had talked Aargh into following Jim to France, by telling the wolf that Jim was going to be in contest with a magician who had all the advantages over him.
Now, however, Jim could think of no reason why it should be dangerous for him to talk to Carolinus. Supposedly any other magician of Carolinus's rank, or just a little below, could listen in; and probably the same thing went for the Dark Powers themselves. Nonetheless, contact was important. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep while willing himself to dream of Carolinus.
Slumber came much faster than he had expected. In his dream he was walking up the front walk to Carolinus's little cottage.
But it was not daylight, as it had been when he had contacted Carolinus before. It was night. It occurred to him belatedly that, in fact, it was probably the same time of night there that it was where he was up in the de Mer Castle. Carolinus's little cottage was dark and silent.
Jim hesitated at the door. Waking people was not exactly the sort of thing he felt comfortable doing. On the other hand finding an opportunity—or even the capability—to dream about Carolinus in the daytime would be difficult. In addition to that, the question he had to ask was not only a question of some urgency; but it was a question that Carolinus had brought upon himself by his admission of last year. It was still with some hesitation that Jim raised his hand and knocked lightly at the cottage door.
There was no response.
He waited. The grass, the flowers, the little fountain that together surrounded the cottage, all were as they were in the daylight, but without color, like a photographic negative under the moon that was now shining above the surrounding trees. After waiting what seemed a very long time indeed, Jim grew a little annoyed.
He knocked again. Knocked hard, this time.
Again, for a long moment there was nothing. Then he could hear the sound of someone stirring around inside the cottage. A moment later the door was snatched open, and Carolinus, with a nightcap on and a long white nightgown, was staring out at him.
"Of course!" snapped Carolinus. "Who else could it be? Anybody else would have the decency not to wake me in the middle of the night."
"I think," said Jim, casting his memory back over the evening and the fact that they had in fact eaten right after sunset up at the de Mer Castle, "it's probably only about ten o'clock or a little after."
"Middle of the night I said; and middle of the night I meant!" snarled Carolinus.
He stuffed a corner of his mustache into his mouth and chewed on it—always a sure sign that he was thoroughly irritated. Then he removed the corner of the mustache from his mouth, spat out a few stray hairs and stood back from the doorway.
"Well, as long as you're here," he said ungraciously, "you might as well come in."
Chapter Five
Jim followed the magician inside, shutting the door behind himself. They stood in the center of the single room that was Carolinus's all-purpose establishment under one roof.
"Well?" demanded Carolinus angrily.
Jim was feeling some annoyance, on his own behalf. To begin with, he had come here with what he thought was a legitimate problem or at least a legitimate problem about a possible grievance; and Carolinus's customary crustiness was rubbing him the wrong way.
"At least you're not in that dragon body of yours," muttered Carolinus, "thrashing around and breaking up all my furniture."
Since Jim had never so much as brushed, let alone broken, any of Carolinus's furniture when he had been inside the house in his dragon body, this was a little unfair. Jim decided to ignore it, however, and push on to the main point of his being there.