Was he imagining this, he wondered, or was it simply because he knew Brian so well that he could read the way he sat his horse, and other body language, unconsciously; even as Sir Harimore had said he could read the way Jim wore his sword and sat his horse as signals that Jim was by no means a practiced fighter at Sir Harimore's level. Still wondering if long acquaintance might not even develop something close to telepathy—certainly, he and Angie could exchange information with a look, for example—Jim dozed off again.
He surfaced to semiconsciousness several times after that, roused by an unusual roar from the crowd, but evidently it was not Brian riding again, or Angie would have woken him. If Angie had received the message she had set to be delivered earlier and left, then Geronde undoubtedly would have woken him. But neither had. He was vaguely aware that most of the morning had gone by—then he was shaken rudely awake and looked up to see Brian's face under an ordinary steel cap, rather than his jousting helm, glaring down at him. Angie's seat beside him was now vacant.
"James!" hissed Brian in his face, "time to go!"
His mind startled to a feverish alertness, but his body still half asleep, he stumbled down the stands after Brian, mumbling apologies that were only rough approximations of those he had strewn right and left as he had climbed up. Happily, Brian's leading the way to a certain extent cleared a path for him, so most of the apologies were unneeded.
Once on the ground he fell in beside Brian and they walked back along the stands to the end of it and off a little farther, before circling out and around toward the tents at the nearer end of the lists. Brian led him past the large tent, around to one of the smaller ones behind it and inside.
Within were not only Brian's squire, John Chester, but Theoluf, his own, plus four of Brian's men-at-arms. Brian pushed Jim past them into a chair at a table on which stood a leather jug of wine and another that presumably held water, but looked remarkably untouched.
Jim collapsed in the chair. Brian uncorked the wine jug and filled one of the large metal cups on the table with wine. He pushed it into Jim's hand.
"Drink!" he said.
"Oh, for God's sakes, no!" said Jim. "No more wine, Brian. I want to wake up!"
"And I want you to wake up. Swallow it all down—that'll wake you!" said Brian. "You must wake, James! We need your wits, brother!"
It was easier to give in than argue or refuse. Jim swallowed the wine. It was only a degree, if that, warmer than the icy air inside the tent—which, come to think of it, must still be not much below freezing or else the wine itself would be frozen—but he managed to empty the cup.
"Now," said Brian, with satisfaction. "Sit there for a small while, James, and let the good wine have its effect on you. Meanwhile I'll have a few words with these lads of ours."
He turned away to the squires and the men-at-arms.
"Now, John; now, Theoluf," he said. "You and these others have been keeping a guard of at least two on the troll and the boar, have you not? Has anything untoward happened? Anything you should tell us? Because, if so, now is the time to speak."
"There is nothing that needs telling, m'Lord," said John.
"That is so, Sir Brian," added Theoluf.
"Good!" said Brian. "And the troll is still in his tent—sleeping, perhaps?"
"He was awake when last I looked, m'Lord," said John. "The boar was still a boar and lying on the ground, perhaps sleeping, perhaps not."
"Good," said Brian. "Now, you lads-at-arms, back with you all to the two beasts and stay until Sir James and I come. I know you've been under orders to keep all away in any case, but now be doubly sure that none come close—including other trolls, if you see any. If one of you catches a glimpse of any other troll, sound an alarm; and at least one other of you go to the one who sounded the alarm, out swords, and charge the troll. I warrant he'll not stand against two of you with blades." For a moment there was a glint in Brian's eye, that was matched in the eyes of those he addressed.
"So," he went on, "otherwise keep troll and boar doubly hidden until Sir James and I come. All, except one—it'd best be you, Theoluf—come with John and me to the main tent; because I am now due to ride the last joust of the morning against Sir Harimore. John will dress me. You, Theoluf, should stand by outside the big tent to watch the jousting, then come back and tell Sir James how matters have gone. You understand, Theoluf? Even if I am hurt and they keep me in the big tent, you must go directly, first, to Sir James. You understand?"
"I understand, Sir Brian," said Theoluf. "I will so do."
"Good!" said Brian, clapping the former man-at-arms on a shoulder. "I know 1 can trust in an experienced head like yours to follow orders." He turned to his own squire.
"When I am prepared, you go with these lads, John; and all things back with the two beasts will be at your command until we come. You also understand?"
"I understand, m'Lord," said John.
"Then we go," said Brian. He glanced over his shoulder at Jim. "Sit you quiet, James. I warrant to put Sir Harimore out of his saddle and be back shortly."
The squires and men-at-arms stood aside to let him out first and then followed him out. Jim sat alone in the tent. He sat, glad enough to be left alone, and—unbelievable as it seemed—beginning to feel a certain soothing influence of the wine he had poured down.
The feeling, he told himself, could be only a self-delusion, but it was welcome in any case. Theoretically he should not react to wine swallowed only minutes before. On the other hand, his mind was definitely calmer; and yes, there was no doubt about it, his head felt clearer and his thoughts seemed sharper. This was just the opposite effect of what a sedative like alcohol should do. But cold alcohol on a warm stomach in an icy tent under these conditions could be excused for behaving in an unlikely manner. Either that, or the alcohol had simply begun to calm him; and the adrenaline of excitement had made him alert.
His mind filled in the gaps. Brian must have angled, possibly by arrangement with and with the consent of Sir Harimore, to be the last bout of the day. It would be a reasonable request, since both were likely to be real contenders for the day's prize. Both were crowd favorites, and in a way their spear-runnings would be a climax to those of the morning. But in addition to these things, it also made an ideal situation in which the Black Knight could ride in and issue his challenge, threatening to upset the apparently settled outcome of the day.
In the stands Jim had been puzzling as to how to get in touch with Carolinus. Now that his mind was clearer, he saw the utter futility of this. If Carolinus had not let himself be contacted earlier, he certainly would not let himself be contacted now. Jim would have to deal with matters by himself.
Outside he heard the distant roar of the crowd in the stands, which must be signaling that Sir Brian and Sir Harimore, fully horsed and armored, had now ridden out of their respective tents. He waited for the time to elapse during which they would have selected spears and readied themselves to gallop down the list. After a short wait it came. He heard the crash of spears against armor once more and the excited neighing of one of the horses; then things were silent again.
For the first time, Jim found himself worrying about Brian. Every instinct in him told him to get up and walk out of the tent and go and see what was happening. But Brian had deliberately sent out Theoluf to bring back news, which meant he had wanted Jim to stay hidden here; and even though Jim's mind was sharper now, he could imagine that Brian might have been seeing the situation more clearly than he could, even now.
He sat and waited. After what seemed entirely too long a wait, Theoluf stepped in through the flap of the tent, held it closed behind him and spoke.
"No decision, m'Lord," he said. "Both Sir Brian and Sir Harimore broke their spears on the other's shield; and neither were moved from their saddles. They will choose new spears and run a second course."
"At least Brian is all right," said Jim, half to himself.
"M'Lord," said Theoluf, "perhaps might not have worried. I have know
n two knights wise and able in the ways of jousting, without needing to make special agreement, to run a first course in which spears would be broken, but no great test made of either one; so that they might ride a second course for the further enjoyment of the crowd. It has happened."
Jim looked up and saw Theoluf's eyes shrewdly on him.
"I only said I have known it to happen," said Theoluf, "in times past when I was man-at-arms under another Lord."
Every so often, thought Jim, these fourteenth-century people—Brian leading the list—made him feel as if he'd been born yesterday. Naturally, for more reasons than one on Brian's part, it would be sensible to run at least a couple of courses to heighten the tension of the crowd. Aside from anything else, it would gear the crowd up for the arrival of the Black Knight.
"Thank you, Theoluf," he said.
Theoluf went out and the flap closed behind him.
Jim listened therefore, once more to the roar of the crowd, the note of the trumpet that sent the knights riding at each other. There was the sound of their meeting, and then another finger-chewing wait before Theoluf stuck his head once more into the tent.
"Both spears broken again, m'Lord, without decision," he said. "A third course will be run."
He paused.
"M'Lord might be interested to know that I have never known or heard of more than three courses being run between two knights without a conclusion one way or another."
He went out.
So, thought Jim, this was to be the real thing. He got to his feet and paced back and forth in the tent. This time the wait before the noise of the crowd told him that Brian and Harimore had ridden out of their tents and were choosing their spears. He paced the tent through the further wait for the trumpet to start them riding at each other, and on through the now absolutely unreasonable wait before the final crash of their encounter—all these seemed amplified in Jim's mind. All of these were bad enough. But worse, even to his unpracticed ear, was the sound of them actually hitting each other, either louder or harsher than he had heard all day.
There was a moment's dead silence and then something like a roar trailing off into a groan from the crowd. Then silence again.
Jim started toward the entrance of the tent. To hell with his not being seen—if that was what Brian had told him to stay here for. But Theoluf came in through the flap before he could reach it and stopped him.
"It might indeed have been a third course with no victor, m'Lord," said Theoluf, "but something about Sir Harimore's saddle broke or gave way. They say it was his saddle girth, but that is what they usually say when some such thing happens, Sir Harimore did not fall; but he had to hold on to his horse's neck to stay upright, dropping his spear. But both spears had been broken as fairly as before. Nonetheless, Sir Brian wins the day!"
"Where is he?" said Jim.
"He rode back into the large tent," said Theoluf. "No doubt he will be with m'Lord soon. Perhaps I might pour a cup of wine ready for him?"
"Yes," said Jim, drumming his fingernails on his thigh impatiently, "yes, do that. And if you have a chance to say a word to him, Theoluf, tell him I'm impatient to see him again."
"Yes, m'Lord," said Theoluf.
He poured not only a full cup for Brian, but a small amount into Jim's cup. Jim woke to what he should have realized before—that of course he would have to congratulate Brian on winning the day, and that meant drinking a cup of wine with him. However, Brian would not insist on a full cup for him this time; and in any case, Jim had intended merely to touch his lips to it. Theoluf, having finished filling the cups, went out.
But the next one to enter the tent was not Brian. It was Aargh; and he literally crawled in under the bottom edge of the tent at its rear.
It was startling to Jim that anyone of Aargh's unusual size could have managed to creep under the tight-pegged ground edge of a tent. Aargh stood up and shook himself, sending snow and a certain amount of dirt spraying around. He looked at Jim.
"The trolls have moved in closer," he said.
Jim stopped his pacing abruptly.
"How close?" he said.
Aargh laughed without a sound.
"Not too close," he said. "And they'll come no closer. They've already seen too many people with weapons here. Those two brothers may in time teach their kind to fight as a group against humans; but that time's not yet. There're still too many generations of trolls who've learned early to run at the sight of any armed two-legged person."
"But we've got Mnrogar and the boar just back in the woods a little ways," said Jim. "John Chester and some of Brian's men-at-arms are with him; but mightn't they take a chance against just a few such enemies to get at the boar, if not Mnrogar—Mnrogar's in a tent."
"I know he's in a tent," said Aargh. "Even if they knew he was there—though they'll have smelled him there, long since—I don't think that even the two brothers would attack him now, with weaponed people about him. And if they don't want to attack, they won't want even to be seen. There's no need to worry for the moment—at least."
Jim discovered he had been holding his breath, waiting for Aargh's answer. He breathed out, now.
"But," went on Aargh, "I'd suggest that when most of you out there go back into the castle, none are left behind to stagger in by themselves. Alone, or by twos or threes, with night falling and night-trolls making up most of those that are with the brothers, the chances are you would not see those laggards alive again."
Jim nodded.
"But if there's no immediate danger—" he began.
"I came to tell you this," said Aargh, "so that you'd guard Mnrogar, after he is through play-acting for you, back to his tunnel to his den under the castle. Some of those trolls may be braver than any others. But once Mnrogar's through the tunnel's mouth, none of them will follow."
"Why?"
"Why?" snapped Aargh annoyedly; but then his tone softened. "I keep forgetting all of you upright people are nose-blind. Because once in the tunnel, they would be as blind as you. Everything will reek of Mnrogar, and there will be places where he can step into a space off the tunnel and wait for them to pass and leap on them when they are unsuspecting. Nor will their numbers help; because some troll will have to go first—and no troll will. There's not one of them that would not fight to the death against any other trolls that tried to force them into the tunnel, rather than go down and die in the dark under Mnrogar's teeth and talons."
"Why guard him, then?" said Jim.
"To hide the opening of his tunnel from them as long as can be."
"Oh, I see. Well, we can do that—" Jim was beginning, when Brian entered the tent and stopped short on seeing Aargh.
"You here?" he said to Aargh.
"No," said Aargh, "I'm a half a day's travel away from this place, explaining something else to some other noseless two-legged person."
"Well, well," said Brian, "it's good to see you—"
"He came to tell us that the army of trolls have moved in closer," Jim said. "He says though, that Mnrogar and the boar are in no danger as long as John and our men-at-arms are with them."
"That is a good word," said Brian. "But come, there's no time to lose. People will be leaving the stands. We must hold them where they are and bring Mnrogar out on his horse as soon as possible. You said you would have a herald, James?"
"Yes," said Jim. "Ned Dunster—the kennel lad from my estate. You've seen him around the tents here. But I've brought the horn Carolinus magicked up, and I'll sound it by magic, and then speak by magic from him to the crowd, in a voice that's not mine, or his. I'll go get him, now."
"I will be close," said Aargh, and started back out under the edge of the tent in back. Meanwhile, Jim had already started out through the opening flap in the front of the tent, with Brian close behind him. He stepped out—and almost stumbled over Ned Dunster, who was standing there with an eager face.
"Forgive me, m'Lord," said Ned, "but I thought you might need me."
It was all too obvious h
e had been listening to the conversation in the tent; but there was no time to say anything about that now. Ned was already dressed in the hose and jerkin—considerably better than his ordinary clothes—that Jim had supplied him after they had gotten to the Earl's castle. He had also just put on his herald's tabard, which was simply a length of cloth with a hole for his head so that it draped before and behind him, with a green background showing a solidly black shield by way of arms, on both its front and back. And he was holding the magic horn.
"All right, Ned," said Jim, "out in front of the great tent quickly, and put the horn to your lips. Everyone has left the tent area, thinking the contests over. Pay no attention to anything that the regular herald says or does to you. I'll take everything from there. You just stand there, hold the horn until it sounds, then pull it down and stand facing those who watch and make movements with your lips as if you were shouting to them. I'll speak through you magically."
"Then I'll go get Mnrogar a-horse," said Brian, "and you'd best get ready whoever's to be his squire, to present him. I must not be seen helping, otherwise. Have you Mnrogar in armor and the boar in horse-shape?"
"No," said Jim. "Damn it, I forgot. But I can do that from here by magic while you're going back there, come to think of it. Go ahead, Brian."
Brian went; and Ned, after looking at Jim for final approval and getting Jim's nod, moved out beyond the large tent.
Watching around the curve of the tent, Jim saw the kennel lad put the horn to his lips and visualized the horn blasting forth three ascending notes, louder and more fierce than any that had been blown so far today. The regular herald had turned and stared at Ned, but had not yet decided to approach him. Ned dropped the horn to his side and turned to face the stands. He opened his mouth.
Jim, staying well behind the curve of the tent, where he could see Ned but was still out of sight of most of those in the stands—and not likely to attract attention in any case, since he was not in anything like jousting armor—raised his cupped hand and spoke into it barely above a whisper, concentrating on imagining the words that came booming forth, deep-toned and ominous, from the lips of Ned.