"Oh, marvelous!" said Liseth. She hugged Lachlan's arm again. "Did you hear that?"
"Of course I heard it!" said Lachlan, but more indulgently than the words indicated. "So, everything ends well for the Castle de Mer and all of us in it. There's no reason why you and I, Liseth, can't start out for Scotland tomorrow ourselves."
"There certainly is!" said Liseth, pulling her arm out of his. "I'm going to have a proper wedding here first. And that means at least a couple of months' work to get my gown made and all the preparations set up and all the right people invited in and—"
"You are marrying Lachlan?" said Jim, bewildered.
"Oh, yes," said Liseth. She took hold of Lachlan's arm again and hugged it, looking up at him. "Just as soon as we can, dear heart."
The last words were addressed to Lachlan, rather than Jim.
"But I thought—" Jim fumbled. "Up in the corridor outside Brian's bedroom I thought it was him—
"What's this about Sir Brian?" said Lachlan, his brows suddenly joining in a dark frown and his tone changing entirely to one which rang dangerously.
"Well, I—" began Jim, but Liseth cut him off.
"It was my fault, Lachlan," said Liseth. "I told him how much I loved you, but I forgot to call you by name; and since he and I had just a moment before left Sir Brian sleeping, Sir James must have jumped to the conclusion that it was Brian I loved."
She turned her attention to Jim.
"There has never been anyone for me but Lachlan," she said, "ever since I was a little girl. We have been pledged for years. That's why he came visiting this time—as well as to bring us the news from Scotland, and concern about me if the Scottish army came this way."
"Uh—" said Jim. "I see."
Lachlan's frown had lifted somewhat, but not completely. He spoke to Liseth. "You're sure it was just a misunderstanding on Sir James's part?"
"Oh, it was," broke in Jim quickly. "I see it now. How could I have been so foolish?"
He struck his brow dramatically with the back of his right fist to emphasize the error. You couldn't overact with these people.
"Well, in that case—" Lachlan's frown cleared completely and he went back to a smile. "All's well—"
He frowned again, if nowhere so deeply.
"Except this business of waiting two months to get married, Liseth," he said. "Things are not done this way in Scotland—"
"I don't care how they're done up in that wild country of yours!" said Liseth. "This is Northumbria and the Castle de Mer and my home and I'm going to have a wedding the way I want it and it'll take two months!"
She all but glared up at Lachlan, who melted almost immediately.
"Weel," said Lachlan, "after all the time I've waited already, I suppose two months more isn't going to make that much difference. Still—"
"Never mind that!" said Carolinus, suddenly interrupting. He had been tapping the toe of one slipper impatiently.
Lachlan gaped at him.
"What's that?" he said. "Never mind my wedding?"
"Tut! Be silent," said Carolinus; and, although Lachlan's mouth immediately moved again, no sound came forth. "I meant only that's enough of whatever you were talking about. I have more important business here, and I wanted all of you present while it was conducted. Now listen while I hold a conversation with somebody entirely different."
"—Talk again?" Lachlan burst out suddenly, with what was evidently the end of the sentence he had begun in his voiceless state, as a result of Carolinus's magic command.
"If you like, if you like," said Carolinus with a wave of his hand, "but just not now, if you please. Don't interrupt, any of you, whatever you do. You are here as witnesses. Also, as exhibits."
"What's an 'exhibit'?" demanded Herrac.
"Never mind, Herrac, never mind!" said Carolinus, in irritation. "It'll take us all day if you people keep interrupting me. As it happens, I'm about to have a short talk with a party that's been trying to talk to me for some time. The Accounting Office."
He looked away from Herrac at empty space. A fly was buzzing around in it; but when Carolinus's eye came upon it, it took off in a straight line without hesitation.
"Did you hear that?" demanded Carolinus of the empty space. "Accounting Office!"
"Mage!" boomed the bass voice with which Jim had become familiar, speaking invisibly some four feet above the straw and dirt of the courtyard floor. "We've been trying to get in touch with you—"
"I know," said Carolinus. "Well, you'll have your answers now. Besides, I've a small matter to take up with you."
The others did not hear whatever the voice answered to this; but Carolinus shook his head.
"I don't care if you like it or not," he said. "I'll speak my mind, and you'll listen! Do you understand?"
There seemed to be a slight turbulence in the air before Carolinus, but still no sound.
"Well, you'd better!" said Carolinus ominously. "I've said a word or two to you on this subject, before. But evidently it's gone in one nonexistent ear and out the other. Well, we'll discuss it now, if you please! Whether you please or not, come to think of it. Now, have I or have I not spoken to you on the subject of James Eckert, my Apprentice, before this?"
A moment of silence.
"Absolutely. And I was quite correct on all five occasions," said Carolinus. "But did you pay attention? No. That's all you think of, the rules and the bottom line. You think that's the way to get things done? Well I'll tell you it's not—"
He was apparently interrupted by the unheard voice of the Accounting Office.
"Never mind that mumbo-jumbo of yours," said Carolinus. "I can indeed prove it's not the way to get things done. Take a look at most occasions when things have got done. Did the person doing them consult the rule book first? Mostly not! No, usually they made their own rules to fit the situation—and those worked—and as a result became part of the rule book!"
There was another moment of silence.
"Don't take that tone with me, sir!" snapped Carolinus. "You seemed to have forgotten something. Did you create the magic you keep the accounts on? No. It was created by the magicians, themselves. People like myself—and my Apprentice, here. Your only job is to keep the accounts of it in proper order; and advise the magicians of whether they need to add to their account or not. As well as answering all useful questions to which you have an answer. In short, you work for us. We don't work for you. Now, back to the subject of James Eckert again."
There was a very brief moment of silence, possibly too brief for the Accounting Office to have answered Carolinus at all, before he launched into his next spate of words.
"Here he is, a D class Apprentice," said Carolinus, "in spite of having defeated an Ogre, evicted the creatures of the Dark Powers from the Loathly Tower, managed to bring the Second Battle of Poitiers to end in a draw; and just now put an end to all hopes of a successful invasion from Scotland! But in spite of all this"—Carolinus sneered—"you've kept him still a D!"
The Accounting Office clearly attempted to say something, but Carolinus's voice overrode it.
"I don't care what the regulations are!" he snapped. "They never were supposed to be anything but guidelines to steer you in the right direction. They're not cast in bronze, you know. If I've told you once, I've told you three—no, five—times that James Eckert is not the ordinary D class Apprentice. He's attracted the attention of the Dark Powers. Consequently, he finds himself locked in contest with them time after time—and will continue to find himself locked in contest with them. You know this; but still you expect him to miraculously win these contests with simply an Apprentice's D class account's worth of magic!"
There was a moment in which Jim and the others heard nothing.
"Yes, yes," said Carolinus irritably, "I'm well aware his knowledge of magic does not go beyond the D level, according to those regulations you talk so much about. But they make no allowance for an extraordinary case like this. Now, he's won a number of encounters with the Dark Powe
rs, once with the help of magic I had to lend him before you put a stop to that, but mostly using his specialized knowledge, imported from you-know-where. This is putting him under an outrageously unfair burden, d'you hear? He should have been free to use as much magic as he likes to get the kind of results he gotten!"
Carolinus evidently listened while the Accounting Office protested at length.
"No, no, no, NO!" snapped Carolinus. "As usual you're looking at the letter of things and not at their meaning. In essence, what he's drawn upon from within himself has been the raw material of which magic is made. He has, in other words, created new magic—for which you've given him no credit whatsoever. How many times must you have it dinned into you that magic is an art, and that its practitioners create? You, sir, do not create. You are incapable of creation. If you can't do it, at least recognize it when you see it—the creation of magic. Now, I am not asking you, I am commanding you. James Eckert is to be raised to at least a full C level magician immediately; and given unlimited credit, plus the right to borrow from me if he needs it!"
There was a very slight pause this time.
"Oh, you do, do you!" Carolinus seemed to swell with rage. "Well I'll tell you what I intend to do. I will contact the other two AAA+ magicians—the next of the three pillars of magicdom in this world—and see if I can't enlist them to follow my example. Whether they do or not, I will withdraw myself and my account completely from your supervision. That is my right, sir! Do not tell me it is not! I will withdraw it; and you'll see how the table that is this world's magic stands on two legs. Also, once I have withdrawn, I will begin lending my Apprentice any magic I want to lend him, in any amounts of any kind, with no regard to whatever rules you have. Now is that understood?"
The answer this time could not have been more than fragmentary.
"I certainly can and will. In fact," said Carolinus, "I will do it now. 'Hear, all ye in magicdom! I, Silvanus Carolinus, do now hereby withdraw my magic'—"
He broke off.
This time he stood listening for a long moment.
"Well, that's better. 'Magicdom, ignore what I just announced!' " he went on in a calmer voice. "I never doubted but what you'd wake up to the facts sooner or later. I take it then that he's now C level?"
A brief pause.
"Fine. And he has access to all the magic he needs in any situation in which he is in contest with the Dark Powers?"
Another brief pause.
"Excellent. That settles that, then," said Carolinus. "Now, give me no more cause on this subject; and you'll hear no more on it from me."
A slight pause.
"I believe you," said Carolinus. "Well, I'm off for home. Thousands of things to do."
He disappeared.
Chapter Thirty-Six
A right good sword,
A constant mind,
A trusty spear and true…
Sir Brian paused for a second, seeming to fumble slightly for his next line—
The Powers of Dark shall ever find
He burst out triumphantly—
What Neville-Smythe can do—
—So sang Sir Brian Neville-Smythe lustily, as he, Jim and Dafydd rode homeward, away from the Castle de Mer.
"You're in good spirits, Brian," said Jim, smiling. He was riding, as usual, in the middle; with Brian on his left and Dafydd on his right.
"And why not, James? And why not?" said Brian cheerfully. "A beautiful spring morning; and we are headed homeward at last. Giles has promised to come down to join us for the Christmas Twelvedays at the Duke's. I have promised not only to explain the fine points of jousting to him as we watch the other knights encounter; but to ride against him myself. He is most eager to improve himself. It would do you no harm, James, to join us."
"Er—no, thanks," said Jim. "My new magic responsibilities, you know."
"Well, as a matter of fact, I don't," confessed Brian.
An understandable response, thought Jim sourly, since he had pulled the excuse out of thin air on the spur of the moment.
But he could imagine Angie's reaction if he told her he was planning to joust at a tourney. Fighting when necessary was barely excusable. But to risk life and limb for sport—
"—However, it doesn't matter, though I know you'll be sad to miss out," said Brian, going back to being his usual sunny self. "In any case, we're headed homeward and I can hardly wait to see Geronde. While no doubt you, James, can likewise hardly wait to see the Lady Angela, once more; and Dafydd to see his Mistress Danielle."
Jim stared at him.
"You're looking forward to seeing the Lady de Chancy?"
"Why, of course!" said Brian. "Are we not deep in love, and pledged to wed? As soon as that father of hers, that old—but I must say no ill of my future father-in-law, who is a knight of renown and a debonair gentleman—returns from the Crusade that's kept him away so long."
"But—" Jim fumbled for the proper words. "I thought you'd had a change of heart and given your love—"
"—To the sweet Lady Liseth de Mer?" said Brian. "A passing fancy only, James, alas. When I learned she loved that mad Scotsman, Lachlan, I sorrowfully recognized that if it was possible for her to love such a man, she was no love for me."
"But I thought you liked Lachlan?" said Jim. "What about all those evenings you sat up drinking with him!"
"As a cup-companion and a weapon-companion I like him right well," said Brian earnestly. "He is a good fighter—'bonny,' as they say in these parts. Yet anyone who strips himself naked to go against a foe… how can one think of him as a gentleman?"
"But, Brian," said Jim, uncomfortably finding himself in the position of an advocate for Lachlan MacGreggor, "it's only a matter of customs. It's just the way some of the Highland Scots like to fight."
"Perhaps," said Brian solemnly, "but I cannot find it in me to agree with it."
"But if he's there when you need him? You have to give him credit for everything but choosing to do his fighting naked."
"Oh, of course," said Brian. "But you, yourself seem to be overlooking the one thing that condemns him utterly. He is no Englishman."
Brian's face was very serious as he looked at Jim.
Jim found himself speechless. It was the one argument he could never win with those on this world. Each of them, in their own minds, lived at or near the top of a social pyramid. They were the best where they were; and, by definition, the place where they were was better than any other place in the world. He could no more change this opinion of Brian's than he could have got Snorrl to accept the idea that any wolf from outside the original borders of Northumbria was really a complete and fully qualified wolf. No doubt Lachlan would point out that the one incurable flaw in Brian was that he was not a Scot.
"—You must face the fact," Brian was saying earnestly.
Jim sighed internally. "Yes, Brian," he said, "you're right. He isn't an Englishman."
"There, you see!" said Brian. "The answer to everything is always quite plain, when you look at the simple truth of it. I've always done so—and found most decisions obvious, as a result. Have you not found this to be true also, Dafydd?"
"Indeed," answered Dafydd. "Indeed I have, look you."
"You see, James?" said Brian. He reached over to lay a hand comfortingly on Jim's left hand, which held the reins of Gorp. "Life becomes so much more simple when you look at its few really important facts and ignore all those unworthy of account."
But Jim's mind was already off on another track.
"Hmm," he said thoughtfully. "You're probably right. Tell me, Brian, do you know of some place just before I reach my castle where I might pick a large bouquet of spring flowers? I'd rather like to push a bunch of them into Angie's arms as we meet—before she has a chance to say a word."
Gordon R. Dickson, The Dragon on The Border
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