Fantasy fiction; Imaginary wars and battles -- Fiction
Now for the love he bare his sister Prezmyra and for his old kindness
sake for Witchland, the Prince charged his men to fight only for the
overpowering of the Witches, slaying none if so it might be, and on
their lives to look to it that the Lord Corund took no hurt. And when
they had fairly gotten the mastery, La Fireez made certain of his folk
take jars of wine and therewith souse Corund and his men most lustily
in the face, while others held them at weapon’s point, until by the
power of the wine both within and without they were well brought under.
And they barricaded the great doorway of the hall with the benches and
table tops and heavy oaken trestles, and La Fireez charged Elaron hold
the door with the most of his following, and set guards without each
window that none might come forth from the hall.
But the Prince himself took flamboys and went six in company to the old
banquet hall, overpowered the guard, brake open the doors, and so stood
before Lord Juss and Lord Brandoch Daha that hung shackled to the wall
side by side. Something dazzled they were in the sudden torch-light,
but Lord Brandoch Daha spake and hailed the Prince, and his mocking
haughty lazy accents were scarcely touched with hollowness, for all
his hunger-starving and long watching and the cark and care of his
affliction. “La Fireez!” he said. “Day ne’er broke up till now. And
methought ye were yonder false fitchews fostered in filth and fen, the
spawn of Witchland, returned again to fleer and flout at us.”
La Fireez told them how things had gone, and he said, “Occasion
gallopeth apace. Upon this bargain do I loose you, that ye come
incontinently with me out of Carcë, and seek no revenge to-night upon
the Witches.”
Juss said yea to this; and Brandoch Daha laughed, saying, “Prince, I
so love thee, I could refuse thee nothing, were it shave half my beard
and go in fustian till harvest-time, sleep in my clothes, and discourse
pious nothings seven hours a day with my lady’s lap-dog. This night we
be utterly thine. An instant only bear with us: this fare shows too
good to rest untasted after so much looking on. It were discourteous
too to leave it so.” Therewith, their chains being now stricken off, he
eat a great slice of turkey and three quails boned and served in jelly,
and Juss a dozen plovers’ eggs and a cold partridge. Lord Brandoch Daha
said, “I prithee break the egg-shells, Juss, when the meat is out, lest
some sorcerer should prick or write thy name thereon, and so mischief
thy person.” And pouring out a stoup of wine, he quaffed it off, and
filling it again, “Perdition catch me if it be not mine own wine of
Krothering! Saw any a carefuller host than King Gorice?” And he pledged
Lord Juss in the second cup, saying, “I will drink with thee next in
Carcë when the King of Witchland and all the lords thereof are slain.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account