"For me the message is clear. The Troice become stronger; I must strike and cause a dislocation. The obvious place is South Ulfland, from where I can attack the Ska in North Ulfland, before they consolidate their holdings. Once I take the fortress Poelitetz, Dahaut is at my mercy. Audry cannot fight me from both west and south.
"First then—to take South Ulfland, with maximum facility, which presupposes your cooperation." Casmir paused. Carfilhiot, looking thoughtfully into the fire, made no immediate response.
The silence became uncomfortable. Carfilhiot stirred and said:
"You have, as you know, my personal well-wishes, but I am not altogether a free agent, and I must conduct myself with circumspection."
"Indeed," said Casmir. "You apparently do not refer to your nominal liege-lord King Oriante."
"Definitely not."
"Who, may I ask, are the enemies you are so pointedly trying to dissuade?"
Carfilhiot made a motion. "I agree, the stench is appalling. Those are rogues of the moors: petty barons, ten-tuffet lords, little better than bandits, so that an honest man takes his life in his hands to ride out across the fells for a day's hunting. South Ulfland is essentially lawless, save for Vale Evander. Poor Oriante can't dominate his wife, much less a kingdom. Every clan chieftain fancies himself an aristocrat and builds a mountain fortress, from which he raids his neighbors. I have attempted to bring order: a thankless job. I am styled a despot and an ogre.
Harshness, however, is the only language these highland brutes understand."
"These are the enemies who cause your circumspection?"
"No." Carfilhiot rose to his feet and went to stand with his back to the fire. He looked down at Casmir with cool dispassion. "In all candor, here are the facts. I am a student of magic. I am taught by the great Tamurello, and I am under obligation, so that I must refer to him matters of policy. That is the situation."
Casmir stared up into Carfilhiot's eyes. "When may I expect your response?"
"Why wait?" asked Carfilhiot. "Let us settle the matter now.
Come."
The two climbed to Carfilhiot's workroom, Casmir now quiet, alert and alive with interest.
Carfilhiot's apparatus was almost embarrassingly scant; even Casmir's trifles were impressive by contrast. Perhaps, Casmir speculated, Carfilhiot kept the larger part of his equipment stored in cabinets.
A large map of Hybras, carved in various woods, dominated all else, in both size and evident importance. In a panel at the back of the map had been carved a face: the semblance, so it seemed, of Tamurello, in crude and exaggerated outlines. The craftsman had been at no pains to flatter Tamurello. The forehead bulged over protruding eyes; cheeks and lips were painted a particularly unpleasant red. Carfilhiot pointedly offered no explanations. He pulled at the ear-lobe of the image. "Tamurello! hear the voice of Faude Carfilhiot!" He touched the mouth. "Tamurello, speak!"
In a wooden croak the mouth said: "I hear and speak."
Carfilhiot touched the eyes. "Tamurello! Look upon me and King Casmir of Lyonesse. We are considering the use of his armies in South Ulfland, to quell disorder and to extend King Casmir's wise rule. We understand your policy of detachment; still we ask your advice."
The image spoke: "I advise no alien troops in South Ulfland, most especially the armies of Lyonesse. King Casmir, your goals do you credit, but they would unsettle all Hybras, including Dahaut, to bring inconvenience upon me. I advise that you return to Lyonesse and make peace with Troicinet. Carfilhiot, I advise that you decisively use the might of Tintzin Fyral to bar incursions into South Ulfland."
"Thank you," spoke Carfilhiot. "We will surely take your advice to heart."
Casmir said no word. Together they descended to the parlor, where, for an hour, they spoke courteously of small subjects. Casmir declared himself ready for his bed, and Carfilhiot wished him a comfortable night's sleep.
In the morning King Casmir rose early, expressed gratitude to Carfilhiot for his hospitality, and with no further ado made his departure.
At noon the party approached Kaul Bocach. King Casmir, with half of his knights passed the fort after paying a toll of eight silver florins. A few yards along the road they halted. The rest of the party approached the fortress. The captain of the fortress stepped forward. "Why did you not pass all together? It is now necessary that you pay another eight florins."
Sir Welty dismounted without haste. He seized the captain and held a knife to his throat. "Which will you be: a dead Ulfish cutthroat, or a live soldier in the service of King Casmir of Lyonesse?"
The captain's steel hat fell off, his bald brown pate bobbed as he writhed and struggled. He gasped. "This is treachery! Where is honor?"
Look yonder; there sits King Casmir. -Do you accuse him of dishonor, after mulcting him of his royal money?"
"Naturally not, still—"
Sir Welty pricked him with the knife. "Order your men out for inspection. You will cook over a slow fire if a drop of blood, other than your own, is spilled."
The captain attempted a final defiance. "You expect me to deliver our impregnable Kaul Bocach into your hands without so much as a protest?"
"Protest all you like. In fact, I'll let you go back within. Then you are under siege. We will climb the cliff and drop boulders on the battlements."
"Possible perhaps, but very difficult." We will fire logs and thrust them into the passage; they shall blaze and smoulder, you will smoke and bake as the heat spreads. Do you defy the might of Lyonesse?"
The captain heaved a deep breath. "Of course not! As I declared from the very first, I gladly enter the service of the most gracious King Casmir! Ho, guards! Out for inspection!"
Glumly the garrison filed out to stand scowling and disheveled in the sunlight, hair tousled under their steel caps.
Casmir looked them over with contempt. "It might be easier to lop off their heads."
"Have no fear!" cried the captain. "We are the smartest of troops under ordinary circumstances!"
King Casmir shrugged, and turned away. The fortress tolls were loaded into one of the wagons; Sir Welty and fourteen knights remained as a temporary garrison and King Casmir joylessly returned to Lyonesse Town.
In his workroom at Tintzin Fyral Carfilhiot once again engaged the attention of Tamurello.
"Casmir has departed. Our relationship is at best formally polite."
"The very optimum! Kings, like children, tend to be opportunistic.
Generosity only spoils them. They equate affability with weakness and hasten to exploit it."
"Casmir's temperament is even less pleasant. He is as singleminded as a fish. I saw him spontaneous only here in my workroom; he is interested in magic, and has ambitions in this direction."
"For Casmir, forever futile. He lacks the patience and here he is much like yourself."
"Possibly true. I am anxious to proceed into the first extensions."
"The situation is as before. The field of analogues must be like a second nature to you. How long can you fix an image in your mind, then change its colors at your will, while holding fixed lineaments?"