"Really? In that case, I must delete this item."
"And here: ‘Horses—stabling, fodder and drink.' Could seven horses occupy such luxurious expanses, eat so much hay and swill down so much valuable water as to justify the sum of thirteen florins?"
"Aha! You misread the figure, as did I in my grand total. The figure should be two florins."
"I see." Aillas returned to the account. "Your eels are very dear."
"They are out of season."
Aillas finally paid the amended account. He asked: "What lies along the road?"
"Wild country. The forest closes in and all is gloom."
"How far to the next inn?"
"Quite some distance."
"You have traveled the road yourself?"
"Through Tantrevalles Forest? Never."
"What of bandits, footpads and the like?"
"You should have put the question to Sir Descandol; he seems to be the authority on such offenses."
"Possibly so, but he was gone before the thought occurred to me. Well, no doubt we shall manage."
The seven set off along the road. The river swung away and the forest closed in from both sides. Yane, riding in the lead, caught a flicker of movement among the leaves. He cried out: "Down, all! Down in the saddle!" He dropped to the ground, snapped arrow to bow and launched a shaft into the gloom, arousing a wail of pain. Meanwhile, a volley of arrows had darted from the forest. The riders, ducking to Yane's cry, were unscathed except for the ponderous Faurfisk, who took an arrow in the chest and died instantly. Dodging, crouching low, his fellows charged into the forest flourishing steel. Yane relied on his bow. He shot three more arrows, striking into a neck, a chest and a leg. Within the forest there were groans, the crashing of bodies, cries of sudden fear. One man tried to flee; Bode sprang upon his back, bore him to the ground, and there disarmed him.
Silence, save for panting and groans. Yane's arrows had killed two and disabled two more. These two and two others lay draining their blood into the forest mold. The three rough-clad men who the night before had sat in the inn over wine were among them.
Aillas turned to Bode's captive, and performed a slight bow, as a knightly courtesy. "Sir Descandol, the landlord declared you an authority upon the region's footpads, and now I understand his reason. Cargus, be good enough to throw a rope over the stout bough yonder. Sir Descandol, last night I knew gratitude for your sage advice, but today I wonder if your motives might not have been simple avarice, that our gold might be reserved for your own use."
Sir Descandol demurred. "Not altogether! I intended first to spare you the humiliation of robbery by a pair of twitterlings."
"Then that was an act of gentility. A pity that we cannot spend an hour or two in an exchange of civilities."
"I am nothing loath," said Sir Descandol.
"Time presses. Bode, bind Sir Descandol's arms and legs, so that he need not perform all manner of graceless postures. We respect his dignity no less than he does ours."
"That is very good of you," said Sir Descandol.
"Now then! Bode, Cargus, Garstang! Heave away hard; hoist Sir Descandol high!"
Faurfisk was buried in the forest under a filigree of sun and shadow. Yane wandered among the corpses and recovered his arrows. Sir Descandol was lowered, the rope reclaimed, coiled and hung on the saddle of Faurfisk's tall black horse. Without a backward glance, the company of six rode away through the forest.
Silence, emphasized rather than broken by far sweet birdcalls, closed in on them. As the day wore on the sunlight passing through foliage became charged with a tawny suffusion, creating shadows dark, deep and tinged with maroon, or mauve, or dark blue. No one spoke; hooves made only muffled sounds.
At sundown the six halted beside a small pond. At midnight, while Aillas and Scharis were on watch, a company of pale blue lights twinkled and flickered through the forest. An hour later a voice in the distance spoke three distinct words. They were unintelligible to Aillas but Scharis rose to his feet and raised his head almost as if to reply.
In wonder Aillas asked: "Did you understand the voice?"
"No."
"Then why did you start to answer?"
"It was almost as if he were talking to me."
"Why should he do that?"
"I don't know.. .Such things frighten me."
Aillas asked no more questions.
The sun rose; the six ate bread and cheese and continued on their way. The landscape opened to glades and meadows; outcrops of crumbling gray rock lay across the road; trees grew gnarled and twisted.
During the afternoon the sky turned hazy; the sunlight became golden and wan, like the light of autumn. Clouds drifted from the west, ever heavier and more menacing.
Not far from where the road crossed the head of a long meadow, at the back of a formal garden, stood a palace of gracious if fanciful architecture. A portal of carved marble guarded the entry, which was carefully raked with gravel. In the doorway of the gatehouse stood a gatekeeper in a livery of dark red and blue diaper.
The six halted to inspect the palace, which offered the prospect of shelter for the night, if ordinary standards of hospitality were in force.
Aillas dismounted and approached the gatehouse. The gatekeeper bowed politely. He wore a wide hat of black felt low down his forehead and a small black domino across the top of his face. Beside him leaned a ceremonial halberd; he carried no other weapons.
Aillas spoke: "Who is lord of the palace yonder?"
"This is Villa Meroe', sir, a simple country retreat, where my lord Daldace takes pleasure in the company of his friends."
"This is a lonely region for such a villa."
"That is the case, sir."
"We do not wish to trouble Lord Daldace, but perhaps he might allow us shelter for the night."
"Why not proceed directly to the villa? Lord Daldace is generous and hospitable."
Aillas turned to appraise the villa. "In all candor, I am uneasy. This is the Forest Tantrevalles, and there is a shimmer of enchantment to this place, and we would prefer to avoid events beyond our understanding."
The gatekeeper laughed. "Sir, your caution is in some degree well-founded. Still, you may safely take shelter in the villa and no one will offer you harm. Those enchantments which affect revelers at Villa Meroe will pass you by. Eat only your own victual; drink only the wine now in your possession. In short, take none of the food or drink which is sure to be offered, and the enchantments will serve only to amuse you."
"And if we were to accept food and drink?"
"You might be delayed in your mission, sir."
Aillas turned to his companions, who had gathered at his back.."You heard this man's remarks; he seems truthful and speaks, so it seems, without duplicity. Shall we risk enchantment, or a night riding through the storm?"
"So long as we use only our own provisions and take nothing served within, we would seem to be secure," said Garstang. "Is that right, friend gatekeeper?"
"Sir, that is quite correct."
"Then I for one would prefer bread and cheese in the comfort of the villa, to the same bread and cheese in the wind and rain of the night."
"That is a reasonable analysis," said Aillas. "What of you others? Bode?"
"I would ask this good gatekeeper why he wears the domino." "
Sir, that is the custom here, which in all courtesy you should obey. If you choose to visit Villa Meroe, you must wear the domino I will give you."
"It is most odd," murmured Scharis. "And most intriguing."
"Cargus? Yane?"
"The place reeks of magic," growled Yane.
"It frightens me none," said Cargus. "I know a cantrip against enchantments; I will eat bread and cheese and turn my face away from the marvels."