The Worm Ouroboros | Page 6

warmth
of his smile, like autumn woods in late sunshine. This is Lord Juss, lord
of this age-remembering castle, than whom none hath more worship in
wide Demonland. Somewhat he knoweth of art magical, yet useth not
that art; for it sappeth the life and strength, nor is it held worthy that a
Demon should put trust in that art, but rather in his own might and
main.
"Now turn thine eyes to him that leaneth on Juss's left arm, shorter but
mayhap sturdier than he, apparelled in black silk that shimmers with
gold as he moveth, and crowned with black eagle's feathers among his
horns and yellow hair. His face is wild and keen like a sea-eagle's, and
from his bristling brows the eyes dart glances sharp as a glancing spear.
A faint flame, pallid like the fire of a Will-o'-the-Wisp, breathes ever
and anon from his distended nostrils. This is Lord Spitfire, impetuous
in war.
"Last, behold on Juss's right hand, yon lord that bulks mighty as
Hercules yet steppeth lightly as a heifer. The thews and sinews of his
great limbs ripple as he moves beneath a skin whiter than ivory; his
cloak of cloth of gold is heavy with jewels, his tunic of black sendaline
hath great hearts worked thereon in rubies and red silk thread. Slung
from his shoulders clanks a two-handed sword, the pommel a huge
star-ruby carven in the image of a heart, for the heart is his sign and
symbol. This is that sword forged by the elves, wherewith he slew the
sea-monster, as thou mayest see in the painting on the wall. Noble is he

of countenance, most like to his brother Juss, but darker brown of hair
and ruddier of hue and bigger of cheekbone. Look well on him, for
never shall thine eyes behold a greater champion than the Lord Goldry
Bluszco, captain of the hosts of Demonland."
Now when the greetings were done and the strains of the lutes and
recorders sighed and lost themselves in the shadowy vault of the roof,
the cup-bearers did fill great gems made in form of cups with ancient
wine, and the Demons caroused to Lord Juss deep draughts in honour
of this day of his nativity. And now they were ready to set forth by
twos and threes into the parks and pleasaunces, some to take their
pleasure about the fair gardens and fishponds, some to hunt wild game
among the wooded hills, some to disport themselves at quoits or tennis
or riding at the ring or martial exercises; that so they might spend the
livelong day as befitteth high holiday, in pleasure and action without
care, and thereafter revel in the lofty presence chamber till night grew
old with eating and drinking and all delight.
But as they were upon going forth, a trumpet was sounded without,
three strident blasts.
"What kill-joy have we here?" said Spitfire. "The trumpet soundeth
only for travellers from the outlands. I feel it in my bones some rascal
is come to Galing, one that bringeth ill hap in his pocket and a shadow
athwart the sun on this our day of festival."
"Speak no word of ill omen," answered Juss. "Whosoe'er it be, we will
straight dispatch his business and so fall to pleasure indeed. Some, run
to the gate and bring him in."
The serving man hastened and returned, saying, "Lord, it is an
Ambassador from Witchland and his train. Their ship made land at
Lookinghaven-ness at nightfall. They slept on board, and your soldiers
gave them escort to Galing at break of day. He craveth present
audience."
"From Witchland, ha?" said Juss. "Such smokes use ever to go before
the fire."

"Shall's bid the fellow," said Spitfire, "wait on our pleasure? It is pity
such should poison our gladness."
Goldry laughed and said, "Whom hath he sent us? Laxus, think you? to
make his peace with us again for that vile part of his practised against
us off Kartadza, detestably falsifying his word he had given us?"
Juss said to the serving man, "Thou sawest the Ambassador. Who is
he?"
"Lord," answered he, "His face was strange to me. He is little of stature
and, by your highness' leave, the most unlike to a great lord of
Witchland that ever I saw. And, by your leave, for all the marvellous
rich and sumptuous coat a weareth, he is very like a false jewel in a rich
casing."
"Well," said Juss, "a sour draught sweetens not in the waiting. Call we
in the Ambassador."
Lord Juss sat in the high seat midmost of the dais, with Goldry on his
right in the seat of black opal, and on his left Spitfire, throned on the
alexandrite. On the dais sat likewise those other lords of Demonland,