Wizard's Funeral (9 page)

was doing. Oh, she continued. Youve caught me at last. Soldier face was stern. Yes at last. He nodded, then his brow cleared before he added, Caught you at what? She emerged fully now, her clothes becoming visible. He saw that she was wearing indigo calico. The hunter? Of course, the palfrey outside. It belonged to the slim youth who had been the first person in this world Soldier had encountered. The same hunter who had rescued him on more than one occasion. His wife Layana was that hunter? It did not seem possible. Ah, she smiled again as she witnessed the knowledge spreading through his mind. You have caught me. Well, never mind. I kept the secret for years. Youve been very slow, Soldier, to catch up with someone who shares your bed most nights. But why the secret? asked Soldier at last, trying to take all this in with strangers in the room. She shrugged. It began that way - and I enjoyed being the mysterious hunter, childish though it seems. I dont know what to say except that I owe you more than I thought I did. Is one lover ever in debt to another? she asked, softly. There was a sharp cough from the doorway as Tranganda reminded them that there were other people present. Me not hurt her, cried Clokk, as Soldiers eyes swept the room again. She eat, sleep, happy. He saw it was time to reassure the two owners of this property that he was not going to burn down their house, nor decapitate them in the process, This he did, learning as he did so that these were male and female half-giants, who mined the precious amber from the Petrified Pools of Yan. By the time everyone was comfortable again, the sun had fully emerged. It was time to get Layana back to Zamerkand, before her sister learned of her absence. Layana gave Clokk her dagger and crossbow, and thanked both half-giants for their hospitality. Clokk took the gifts eagerly and Mump was pleased to see him so happy. On the way home Soldier told Layana that as he had known nothing of her activities as the blue hunter. We shall go on as before, he said. Of course, when I see you outside the city walls on your piebald, I shall know it is you, but for you I shall pretend otherwise. How else can you enjoy the freedom you so obviously need. She thought this was best too, that they pretend this revelation had never come to pass. Soldier was merely another who shared her secret, as did Butro-batan and Corporal Tranganda. Layana needed this other life, to counteract all those hours she spent inside the Palace of Wildflowers, mad or sane. In the meantime Ofao had ordered servants to carry Captain Kaff back to his quarters. They left him lying there on the front porch, prone, staring out at the dark sky with sightless eyes. When he came to, he remembered nothing of being struck. He recalled going to the Palace of Wildflowers, to remonstrate with Soldier, but the rest was a blank. All he knew was that his jaw ached. Had he fallen on his face for some reason? A fainting fit? He remembered being with Tranganda, Ofao and Soldier, but no matter how hard he thought about it, he could not bring back any mental picture of what had happened there. Why had they just dumped him here on his step? He remembered one other thing. The princess! he suddenly cried, sitting up. Once again he set out for the Palace of Wildflowers. When he arrived there he found a quivering Ofao, who stuttered and stammered negative replies to his questions. Since Ofao would not open the palace to him, Kaff went back to the guardhouse and roused some of his men, saying they were to scour the city. The princess must be found, he said. Later a squad of men reported to him that the princess had been seen at the window of the Green Tower, looking down. Kaff went to see for himself. Yes, there she was, drifting behind the barred, high, narrow window in a liquefaction of silks and muslin. Her form then vanished into the interior of the room. Then another face appeared at the window. Grim. Hostile. It belonged to Soldier. The outlander stared down with hard, warning eyes at the captain in the street, then the shutters to the window were deliberately closed, locking out the world. Kaff, the feelings in his breast in turmoil, made his way slowly back to his quarters near the west wall. The raven arrived on the balcony outside Soldiers room and tapped on the window with his beak. Soldier heard the sound and eventually went to see what the raven wanted. I wish to have nothing to do with you, said Soldier, coldly. I dont deal with traitors. It wasnt my fault, replied the raven. I was forced into it by unscrupulous people. Liar! You wanted your old body back. Wouldnt you, if you were me? Soldier said, I would never sell my friends for it. Well, the bird scratched at the sill with one of his claws, hanging his head. Then he said, Anyway, you killed my mate. Were even now. She was an innocent bystander, and you had Spagg kill her with his slingshot. I doubt you knew the bird at all I know you cant talk with other ravens. They shun you. They know youre not one of them, but a boy in birds feathers. What can I do? said the raven, plaintively. Do you want me to go to Humbold and offer my services to him? I dont care. Youve forsaken your friends. You do what you like. Well - I wont go to him, the raven said, miserably. I dont like him. Soldier stared at the bird. He seemed very contrite. Soldiers heart was not of the material that hardened for ever. Where he saw remorse he was inclined to forgive. Of course, he could never fully trust the raven again. A treacherous act is not so easily forgotten. But he felt he ought to give the bird a second chance. After all, he had been Soldiers infrequent companion ever since Soldier had arrived in Guthrum. He was an irritating creature, this boy-bird, but useful, too. More than once he had picked locks or untied knots for Soldier, when he had got himself into some tight corner or other. That counted for something. All right, said Soldier, at last, were friends once more. But dont ever betray me to another again. Therell be no more chances. A man must be able to trust. The only way to survive in such a world of chaos is to know who are friends and who are enemies. Friend, squawked the raven. Im a friend. See that you stay that way. At that moment there was a thumping on Soldiers door. He bade farewell to the raven and went to answer it. A herald stood there, breathless, holding out a note. It was from the queen. She wished to see Soldier immediately. Soldier told Layana on his way through. The princess was worried. Do you think Vanda has found out about my escapades? I dont know. The only way to know for sure is to go and see. You dont have much choice, anyway.' Soldier was met by a worried lookin Chancellor Humbold, outside the court. Follow me, said the courtier, sweeping on before, the hems of his various heavy robes polishing the floor as he went. The queen smiled grimly at Soldier, but it was not about Layana, it was about him. Soldier, it seemed, had been invited to the King Maguss funeral the procession and burial of HoulluoH, and the wake which came after. Everyone in the court was astonished. Especially the queen. I received the message this morning, she said. It seems that HoulluoH himself requested your presence at the ceremonial burning of his remains. He informed his attendant creatures before he died. No one knows why. No one knew he had even heard of you. Its a very strange thing very strange indeed. Why so strange, Your Highness? asked Soldier. It was Chancellor Humbold, looking very disturbed, who replied for his queen. Because in all the records of our history, no mortal has ever been invited to or witnessed a wizards funeral. You, added the queen, are the first.

Chapter Nine

There was a vast platform of tightly packed moles moving across a wintry landscape. These blind creatures, dark velvets from the underworld (appropriate for a funeral in so many ways) carried the remains of the wizard on their backs. All that was left was a pile of bones and black hair. The long, lank wizards locks flapped like some ghastly flag of the dead. The bones clattered together as the funeral raft rose and fell in a sea-like rhythm, rippling its way over the frosted turf. The raft moved at the back of the night. Following behind were a thousand black horses yoked to the dawn. They pulled the morning at funeral pace across the plain, tethered as they were by long black ribbons to the edge of the next day. On the heads of the stallions were tall dark plumes, which stood unmoving in the wind. They wore cruppers and traces of black satin, collars of padded silk, and trappings of silver and jet. Their deepened eyes, dark as thunder, crackled with celestial sparks. It was a magnificent sight, witnessed by only one mortal. Funeral gifts had been tossed onto the raft by the mourners. There were multi-coloured fruits, few of which were familiar to a mortal. Seashells too, of such an exotic design they stunned the only human present with their beauty. Seeds, nuts, crispy carapace of beetle, blown eggshells, some natural, others clearly from a place other than Earth. There were painted wooden totems of chimeras, carved stone figures of imps. There were moon-moths in their hundred-thousands fluttering around the hearse with dusty wings, as attracted to a dead wizards yellow bones as they would be to a lamp. There was white driftwood, looking more like bones than the bones, in twisted, tangled heaps, shaped by the sun, sand and the salt-bleach ocean which had torn it from its many foreign shores. All that could be heard under the full, blood-red moon which filled half the sky was the blast of the cold wind and the chatter of demons. Over knoll and down dale went the murderously slow cortege, the air above a moving darkness fashioned of rooks and crows. The snow-patched countryside around the raft was littered with demons, spirits, ghosts, ogres and giants of every shape and form. There were low and magnificent monsters, too, of all varieties: the walking dead, blood-drinking creatures, dragons large and small, the Uldra who lived underground in cold places, Wendigo, Zaltys, Yakkus, Ohdows from the hot deserts of Gwandoland, and comparatively ordinary Knockers and Gremlins from the very gates of earth. There were witches male and female. But more numerous than any other set of creatures was the multitude of faery-folk present: Elves, Dwarfs, Pixies, Brownies, Trows (from the outer islands), Goblins, Hobgoblins, Leprechauns, Gnomes, Fenoderee, Cluricauns, Spriggans, Gwragedd Annwn, Coblynau, Bendith Y Mamau, Tylwyth Teg, Leshy, the dreaded Drots which Soldier hated so much, the Unseelie Court and the Seelie Court. And midst all these supernatural creatures was but one mortal, one man: Soldier, walking alongside the raft in a state of complete wonder. Half the worlds bat-winged shapes flapped by his head, the running devil rushed past his shoulder, while the terrible, gaping ogre, idiot by accident of birth, stared and stared and stared. Soldier hardly knew where he was. He felt the scene was being acted out around him, like an apparition. He appeared an observer inside someone elses dream, walking with strange and weird forms. Some sights chilled him, others made him want to laugh, even more filled his head with amazement. This funeral was no place for a human. Soldier could see what remained of the most powerful wizard in the world. The pile of bones and hair seemed to rise and fall, with a gentle rhythm, as if struggling to breathe some life into itself. It was as if the wizard had died not just yesterday, but a thousand years before yet even so tried to cling on to this life. Even as they now walked, the hair suddenly combusted, burning with blue and green and orange flames which leapt up to lick feather of crow and rook. Then the bones caught fire. Soldier looked at this pyre, then around him at the amazing multitude of beings who marched with him on this seemingly interminable journey, to see if any were alarmed by this phenomenon. No one seemed perturbed, least of all the moles who carried this bonfire of dead wizard. A demon, a fellow with cock-wattle eyelids hanging like flaps upon his cheeks, and horse-hair sprouting as a black fountain from the top of his head, seemed to notice Soldier for the first time. He shrugged his pointed shoulders, and screwed up his large, lumpy face with its complexion the colour of sulphur. Then he seemed to take offence at being stared at by a human. Whyre you here? growled the demon, his forked, red tongue flicking close to Soldiers face. Youre mortal. I was invited. In a way Im not of this world either. Im from another place entirely, I think. The demon seemed to lose interest. Soldier said, The remains are burning. The demon glanced across the raft, which had moved three or four yards in twenty minutes. It happens. Therell be nothing left when we reach the mansion, but well make a show of it. The mansion? Up there. Soldier looked beyond the sea of extraordinary creatures to some cliffs. Halfway up the sheer face of these monstrous structures was a ledge with an imposing red-brick mansion perched on its edge. Soldier could not imagine how the building had got there. Perhaps those with wings had built it for their spiritual leader, HoulluoH, and now he wished to spend eternity within its walls? It was certainly a handsome residence, with round rooms on the corners, and bearing slated roofs. There were tall, spiral chimneys, sixteen he counted, and windows by the score. Strange weather vanes, perched on the tops of towers, spun like tops in the morning blast. Thick wooden doors, studded with square-headed nails, were open and ready to receive the resident ashes. A leering devil dressed in priests robes stood on the ledge outside the mansion, in front of the doorway. Goblins were busy cramming the remains of the ashes into an urn, before the blast of the wind took them. It would not do, it seemed, to have a wizards dust scattered far and wide. You see what I mean? said the demon. Nothing left. Immediately behind Soldier the thousand horses had halted. The dawn stood at a standstill. Clouds were forming islands in the reddening sky. Winged fairies suddenly flew up to scatter the crows and rooks. Gossamer took the place of feathers. The backdrop of a waiting sunrise caught their colours. Now the drumbeats! Now the trumps! Now the notes of flutes! And now the eerie singing of blunt-headed snakes, whose horned-nose songs only ever came forth at funerals such as this. O flown, the stars that were his eyes; flung, the nails that primped his feet. Now seeped, the semen from his loins, drained into the earth and seas. Gone the best of what was worst, gone the last of what was first. Gone the foulest nowhere wind. Ah, drained, those seas from vasty bladder. Ah, vanished, stems of nerve and neck. Torn, the hinge from jaw and joint. Ripped, the roots from teeth and tongue. O cropped, the magic flail that hung; gone those pocket-stones that rung . . . And so it went on, dreadful forked tune, dreadful twisted words. As the velvet raft reached the foot of the cliffs, a narrow, sloping chasm opened up. The moles flowed forward, down into the crack and so beneath the surface of the earth. The dawn-pulling horses were unhitched by boggarts and taken away, the black ribbons left hanging from the edge of the day, fluttering as sad shadows. The urn full of ashes was retrieved by winged fairies and carried aloft, up to the devil-priest in his black-and-silver garment and tall scarlet mitre. He took it with both hands, turned, and entered the mansion. Shells, fruit, eggs, driftwood, all disappeared with the moles below the ground. One piece of fruit rolled from the pile and escaped being swallowed by the closing chasm. Moon-apple, said Soldiers demon, answering his unasked question, from a jackfrost tree. A single fairy, a wily spriggan by the look of its long nose and ears, dashed forward and snatched up the moon-apple to munch. I think thats allowed, muttered the demon, in a voice which told Soldier he was none too sure of the fact. The snakes ceased their unhallowed strains. All seemed to wait expectantly at the bottom of the cliff, looking upwards. Soldier did the same. Finally the demon-priest appeared, held up his hands, and the crowd around Soldier murmured. Up on the ledge the rock face opened to a square cave, the mansion rumbled backwards, into the mouth of this opening. Once it was securely inside, the cliff closed over the entrance and the mansion was locked inside. Not a seam or fissure marked the place. It was as if HoulluoH had never been. Soldier was then amazed at how quickly the funeral procession dispersed. The fairies were gone in no time. The demons vanished into the earth at their feet, much like the funeral raft had done. The weird beasts and mythical monsters went next. The last to leave were the giants, out on the periphery, and they went towards the nearest mountains. Day and night remained suspended in this awful place. Soldier stood alone on the plain, the wind growing less intense by the minute. When it had died down, he trudged back towards Zamerkand and time began to move again. At the minute he was entering the gates of the city, it was once again nightfall, many hours having passed. Soldier went immediately to bed, intending to report to the queen the following morning. He fell into a sleep so deep it was almost death. He was woken with a kiss along with fresh natural sunlight. Ah, youre well, he said to Layana. How good life is sometimes. Husband, youre famous. The first to attend a wizards funeral. You must be very special. You are to me, of course, but now other people are beginning to think you are too! Is it still winter? he asked, looking towards the window. Only yesterday. Today it is summer. Thats good. It was obviously ordered for the funeral. Now thats all over, we can start our lives again. Is the new King Magus in his palace in the Seven Peaks yet? Layana said, I dont know. Look, here, this came to the door yesterday with a message that it was a present to you. It arrived just a few moments after youd left for the funeral. I think you were supposed to wear it for the occasion. She held up a sealed glass casket so that he could inspect its contents. It was a robe of the finest, the sheerest silk, red in colour, but decorated with yellow phoenix birds. The instructions on the glass box said that the robe was to be handled with velvet gloves, the silk being so delicate it could not be touched with unclad fingers. There were some such gloves in a compartment on the box. Soldier put them on, opened the glass door, and gently removed the robe from within the casket. How beautiful! breathed Layana, as the breeze lifted the robe and made it dance in Soldiers hands. How lucky you are. But who sent it? asked Soldier. Why, some foreign prince, no doubt. Or a magician friend of the queen ... Or a sorcerer, jealous of my place at the funeral. Remember the brigandine? Layana stared at the robe. I think this one could hardly have any fine poisoned hairs. Look how light and flimsy it is in the breeze. Soldier agreed. He draped the robe over a box-seat with a velvet lid, then had a bath, using the time to describe the wizards funeral to his wife. She was filled with wonder and amazement at his telling, which made him feel quite special, since she was the native and he the foreigner. While he spoke she bathed his skin with soaps and oils, removing the dust of the plains, and making his skin tingle all over. Perfumed warm water cascaded from the mouths of mermaids, washing away the dirty water from the sunken marble tub, replacing it with clean. Finally, he climbed from the tub, a fine figure, his skin glowing and smelling as sweet as any rose in spring. Layana put on the velvet gloves and held up the robe for him to step into. He turned his back to it, reached out with his arms to slip them into the mandarin sleeves, when suddenly something squawked and flew in through the window. While Layana was still holding up the robe, a bird flew across the room and snatched it from her grasp with its beak. Hey! It was the raven. It took the garment to the window and flew through the bars. The delicate silk ripped as it was dragged through the ornate window guard. Then the raven opened its beak, letting the flimsy robe fall. The pair of humans at the window watched it float down, ever so slowly, to the ground beneath. It was like some colourful ghost escaping from the palace. Finally it settled on a trough down in the street. The stared to see it draped over the iron pump handle at one end. Just then a half-naked man of the streets appeared around the corner. He spied the robe almost immediately. Looking furtively this way and that, he crossed to the pump handle and took the garment. Soldier was about to yell down, but thought better of it, since it seemed ungenteel to shout from a palace window. Both he and Layana watched as the beggar put on the robe. The next moment the man was engulfed in flames. He screamed in pain, leaping into the near empty horse trough. Water splashed over him but still did not put out the fire, which burned with a supernatural intensity and colour. Finally the poor creature collapsed, lying in the dregs of the horse trough, his body still blazing. By the time Soldier had run down the stairs of the Green Tower and out into the street, the fire was out. He found the charred remains of the beggar fouling the water of the trough. Ofao sent a servant to remove them and throw them on the rubbish heap at the back of the house. There was little else they could do for the victim of some fiendish plot to murder Soldier once again. Burial plots within the city were few and far between, and most bodies went on paper-reed boats to be floated down the covered canal to the Cerulean Sea, where the tides took them away. The raven, for it was he who had saved Soldier, came to his shoulder as he walked back to the palace gates. That could have been you. Black bits of charcoal. Youd have made a nicer torch. You have more fat on you than that beggar. Youd have gone up like a priests wax candle. Soldier acknowledged the raven. Thank you for saving my life. I think youve wiped out the stain of your treachery now. That was the idea - and to save you, of course. I hope theres no irony in there. The bird fluttered its wings. Who can say? Im just a boy with feathers. I never had no learnin, sire. You know well enough. But, tell me, where did the robe come from? The raven shook its head, fixing Soldier with its beady eyes. I dont know. I swear. Its an old wizards trick. When I saw the