"Thank you," said Tatzel with a wan smile. "The splint was most tiresome. How may I pay you for your healing?"
"I want nothing but the pleasure of your smile," said Threika. "Oh, if you wish, give me three hairs of your head for remembrance; that shall suffice."
"It is not enough," said Aillas. "Here is a silver penny, worth a whole head of hair, and also useless in magic, should it fall into improper hands."
"Yes, that is wisdom," Cwyd agreed. "And now it is time to sleep."
All night long the storm wailed and roared across the moors, and only began to slacken with the coming of day. The sun rose in a cataclysmic welter of black, white, red, pink and gray; then seemed to assert itself and from a peculiarly black sky sent long low shafts of rosecoloured light across the moors.
Cwyd blew up the fire and Threika prepared porridge, which the group consumed with milk, berries and rashers of fried bacon provided by Aillas.
Threika removed the bandage from Tatzel's leg, and threw the bandage into the fire with an incantation. "Rise now, Tatzel, and walk! Once more you are whole!"
Cautiously Tatzel tested the leg and discovered neither pain nor stiffness, much to her pleasure.
Aillas and Cwyd went to saddle the horses, and Aillas asked: "If I were to question you about the lands I intend to travel, would you be happy if in gratitude I made you a present of several copper pennies?"
Cwyd mused. "Our conversations have raised a number of interesting points. I could describe every turn of a long road, reciting each of the perils to be found along the way and its remedy, thus saving your life a dozen times, and you would gratefully reward me with a bag of gold. However, if I casually mentioned that the man you wished to see at the end of this road were dead, you might thank me but give me nothing, though all went to the same effect. Is there not an inherent disequilibrium at work here?"
"Yes indeed," said Aillas. "The paradox resides once again in the distortions worked upon the fabric of our life by greed. I suggest that we free ourselves of this ignoble vice, and seek to help each other with full and wholehearted zeal."
Cwyd grumbled: "In short, you refuse to pay me what my information is worth?"
"If you saved my life even once, how should I pay you? The concept is meaningless. For this reason such services are generally held to be free."
"Still, if I saved your life a dozen times, as well as your father and mother and the virtue of your sister, and you gave me a single copper groat, at least I could put my belly up to the board and drink a mug of beer to your health."
"Very well," said Aillas. "Tell me all you know. It may be worth a copper groat."
Cwyd threw his hands in the air. "At least in dealing with you I exercise my tongue... . Where do you fare?"
"North to Dun Cruighre in Godelia."
"You have come the proper route. A day's ride to the north the moors end at a great declivity: the Cam Brakes. This is a series of ledges or terraces arranged like steps, which, according to myth, the giant Cam laid out to ease his way from Lake Quyvem up to the moors. On the first, or topmost, brake, you will find many ancient tombs; give them all due respect. This place was sacred to the ancient Rhe-daspians, who inhabited the land three thousand years ago. Ghosts are common, and it is said that sometimes old friendships are renewed and old antagonisms find vent. If you by chance see such ghosts, make no sound and give no interference, and above all, never agree to act as arbiter at one of their ghostly tribunals. Act as if you see nothing nor hear nothing and they will ignore you. There is my first information."
"And a good information it is!"
"On the second brake lives a ghoul who has the power to change his guise. It will meet you in sweet friendship, and offer wine and food and kindly shelter. Accept nothing—not so much as a sup of cold water—and cross down over this brake, no matter what the cost, while the sun is in the sky; at sunset the ghoul assumes its true shape and your life is in the balance. If you take its gift you are lost. That is the second information."
"It is even better than the first!"
"The third brake, which is in the middle, is fair and wholesome, and here you may rest, if you choose... . Still, I advise against entering any enclosure, hut or hole, and whatever benefits the land provides, give thanks to the god Spirifiume, who rules this place and also a goodly duchy on the planet Mars. That is the third information."
"Interesting, as always."
"The fourth and fifth brakes are generally safe to the traveller, though all the brakes are haunted in some degree. Pass these by without delay. When you come to Lake Quyvern, you will discover Kernuun's Antler, which is the inn of Dildahl the Druid. He is, so it seems, a kindly man, and offers a hospitality of moderate cost. This is hardly true and you must eat none of his fish! He will serve it in many guises: as roe, and croquettes, and pickles, and pudding, and in soup. Eat only the items whose cost is specified. This is the fourth information."
"These are all valuable instructions."
"The east shore of Lake Quyvern is unsafe owing to mires and bogs and morasses. The western shore is a place beyond my understanding. Arch-druids are rife, as well as a complementary sect of Arch-druidesses, with whom they hold social intercourse and discuss topics relating to their creed. At grand banquets it is said that they eat the flesh of children, in accordance with ancient ritual. The islands of Lake Quyvem are sacred to the druids, and if you set foot on them your life is forfeit. This is the fifth information."
"Once more: most interesting! I am impressed by your knowledge!"
"Lake Quyvern empties into the River Solander, which flows north to the Skyre, and Godelia spreads before you like a bad smell. That is the sixth information." And Cwyd made a gesture to signify that his tale was told, and stood smiling modestly, as if waiting for Aillas' further applause.
Aillas said: "Ah, Cwyd, my dear fellow, your informations are most helpful. Are there more?"
Cwyd asked dolefully: "Have I not told enough?"
"You have done so, but you would not be withholding three or four other informations, just in case I prove an ingrate for the first six?"
"No. I have fully and frankly disclosed all I know to your advantage."
"Then here is a gold crown in exchange, and know that I have enjoyed this evening with you. Further, I will tell you this: I am favorably known to the magician Shimrod, and to the King of South Ulfland and Troicinet as well. Should events ever bring you near these persons, you need but mention my name and your needs will be met."
"Sir, I am sorry to see you go: so much so that I offer you another day and night at three-quarter rate!"
"Most generous!" said Aillas. "But we cannot delay."
"In that case, I wish you good luck on your venture."
II
AILLAS AND TATZEL RODE AWAY from the cottage of Cwyd and Threlka. Tatzel now wearing a peasant's blouse and baggy breeches, cut of oatmeal-coloured homespun. She had bathed; the fresh garments and the curing of her leg put her almost in a cheerful frame of mind, sullied only by the presence of the odious Aillas, who still pretended to regard himself as her master... . His manner was puzzling. At Sank, by his own admission, he had come to admire her, but now, out on these lonely moors, where he could do as he pleased, he acted as if under frigid constraint—perhaps the deference a house-servant owed a Ska lady of high birth?