Fantasy fiction; Imaginary wars and battles -- Fiction
Corinius drank a draught and spat. “Phrut!” said he. “Much bruit,
little fruit. I would know by what warrant thou troublest me with
this tittle-tattle, and I pleasantly disposing myself to mirth and
recreation. Could it not wait till supper time?”
Ere Laxus might say more, was a great clatter heard without on the
stairs, and in came those sons of Corund.
“Am I a king?” said Corinius, gathering his robe about him, “and shall
I be forced? Avoid the chamber.” Then marking them stand silent with
disordered looks, “What’s the matter?” he said. “Are ye ta’en with the
swindle or the turn-sickness? Or are ye out of your wits?”
Heming answered and said, “Not mad, my lord. Here’s Didarus that held
the Stile-burg for us, ridden from the east as fast as his horse might
wallop, and gotten here hard o’ the heels of the former messenger with
fresh and more certain advertisement, fresher by four days than that
one’s. I pray you hear him.”
“I’ll hear him,” said Corinius, “at supper time. Nought sooner, if the
roof were afire.”
“The land beneath thy feet’s afire!” cried Heming. “Juss and Brandoch
Daha home again, and half the country lost thee ere thou heard’st
on’t. These devils are home again! Shall we hear that and still be
swill-bowls?”
Corinius listened with folded arms. His great jaw was lifted up. His
nostrils widened. For a minute he abode in silence, his cold blue eyes
fixed as it were on somewhat afar. Then, “Home again?” said he. “And
the east in a hubbub? And not unlikely. Thank Didarus for his tidings.
He shall sweeten mine ears with some more at supper. Till then, leave
me, unless ye mean to be stretched.”
But Laxus, with sad and serious brow, stood beside him and said, “My
lord, forget not that you are here the vicar and legate of the King.
Let the crown upon your head put perils in your thoughts, so as you may
harken peaceably to them that are willing to lesson you with sound and
sage advice. If we take order to-night to march by Switchwater, we may
very well shut back this danger and stifle it ere it wax to too much
bigness. If o’ the contrary we suffer them to enter into these western
parts, like enough without let or stay they will overrun the whole
country.”
Corinius rolled his eye upon him. “Can nothing,” he said, “prescribe
unto thee obedience? Look to thine own charge. Is the fleet in proper
trim? For there’s the strength, ease, and anchor of our power, whether
for victualling, or to shift our weight against ’em which way we
choose, or to give us sure asylum if it were come to that. What ails
thee? Have we not these four months desired nought better than that
these Demons should take heart to strike a field with us? If it be true
that Juss himself and Brandoch Daha have thrown down the castles and
strengths which I had i’ the east and move with an army against us, why
then I have them in the forge already, and shall now bring them to the
hammer. And be satisfied, I’ll choose mine own ground to fight them.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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