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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/29542-h.zip b/29542-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..db2ce67 --- /dev/null +++ b/29542-h.zip diff --git a/29542-h/29542-h.htm b/29542-h/29542-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3f8a389 --- /dev/null +++ b/29542-h/29542-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1739 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Valor of Cappen Varra, by Poul Anderson + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1,h2 {text-align: right; font-weight: normal; line-height: 2em;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .trn {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; padding: 1em; text-align: justify;} + .bk1 {margin: 1em auto 3em; border-top: solid 2px; border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bk2 {float: left; width: 15em; margin: 1em 2em 1em 0;} + .pr1 {line-height: 1.5em; margin-top: 4em;} + hr {width: 45%; margin: 2em auto; visibility: hidden;} + .poem {margin: 1em auto; text-align: left; font-style: italic; width: 17em;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Valor of Cappen Varra, by Poul William Anderson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Valor of Cappen Varra + +Author: Poul William Anderson + +Release Date: July 29, 2009 [EBook #29542] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VALOR OF CAPPEN VARRA *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="bk1"><p><i><small>We have said that there are many and strange shadows, memories surviving +from dim pasts, in this FANTASTIC UNIVERSE of ours. Poul +Anderson turns to a legend from the Northern countries, countries +where even today the pagan past seems only like yesterday, and tells +the story of Cappen Varra, who came to Norren a long, long time ago.</small></i></p></div> + +<div class="bk2"><h1><b>the<br /> +valor<br /> +of<br /> +cappen<br /> +varra</b></h1> + +<h2><small>by ... <i>POUL ANDERSON</i></small></h2> + +<p class="pr1"><big><b>"Let little Cappen go," they +shouted. "Maybe he can sing +the trolls to sleep—"</b></big></p></div> + +<p>The wind came from the +north with sleet on its +back. Raw shuddering gusts +whipped the sea till the ship +lurched and men felt driven +spindrift stinging their +faces. Beyond the rail there +was winter night, a moving +blackness where the waves +rushed and clamored; straining +into the great dark, men +sensed only the bitter salt of +sea-scud, the nettle of sleet +and the lash of wind.</p> + +<p>Cappen lost his footing as +the ship heaved beneath him, +his hands were yanked from +the icy rail and he went +stumbling to the deck. The +bilge water was new coldness +on his drenched clothes. +He struggled back to his +feet, leaning on a rower's +bench and wishing miserably +that his quaking stomach +had more to lose. But he had +already chucked his share of +stockfish and hardtack, to +the laughter of Svearek's +men, when the gale started.</p> + +<p>Numb fingers groped anxiously +for the harp on his +back. It still seemed intact +in its leather case. He didn't +care about the sodden wadmal +breeks and tunic that +hung around his skin. The +sooner they rotted off him, +the better. The thought of +the silks and linens of Croy +was a sigh in him.</p> + +<p>Why had he come to Norren?</p> + +<p>A gigantic form, vague in +the whistling dark, loomed +beside him and gave him a +steadying hand. He could +barely hear the blond giant's +bull tones: "Ha, easy there, +lad. Methinks the sea horse +road is too rough for yer +feet."</p> + +<p>"Ulp," said Cappen. His +slim body huddled on the +bench, too miserable to care. +The sleet pattered against +his shoulders and the spray +congealed in his red hair.</p> + +<p>Torbek of Norren squinted +into the night. It made his +leathery face a mesh of wrinkles. +"A bitter feast Yolner +we hold," he said. "'Twas a +madness of the king's, that +he would guest with his +brother across the water. +Now the other ships are +blown from us and the fire +is drenched out and we lie +alone in the Wolf's Throat."</p> + +<p>Wind piped shrill in the +rigging. Cappen could just +see the longboat's single +mast reeling against the sky. +The ice on the shrouds made +it a pale pyramid. Ice everywhere, +thick on the rails and +benches, sheathing the dragon +head and the carved stern-post, +the ship rolling and +staggering under the great +march of waves, men bailing +and bailing in the half-frozen +bilge to keep her afloat, and +too much wind for sail or +oars. Yes—a cold feast!</p> + +<p>"But then, Svearek has +been strange since the troll +took his daughter, three +years ago," went on Torbek. +He shivered in a way the +winter had not caused. +"Never does he smile, and his +once open hand grasps tight +about the silver and his men +have poor reward and no +thanks. Yes, strange—" His +small frost-blue eyes shifted +to Cappen Varra, and the unspoken +thought ran on +beneath them: Strange, even, +that he likes you, the wandering +bard from the south. +Strange, that he will have +you in his hall when you +cannot sing as his men would +like.</p> + +<p>Cappen did not care to +defend himself. He had +drifted up toward the northern +barbarians with the idea +that they would well reward +a minstrel who could offer +them something more than +their own crude chants. It +had been a mistake; they +didn't care for roundels or +sestinas, they yawned at the +thought of roses white and +red under the moon of Caronne, +a moon less fair than +my lady's eyes. Nor did a +man of Croy have the size +and strength to compel their +respect; Cappen's light blade +flickered swiftly enough so +that no one cared to fight +him, but he lacked the power +of sheer bulk. Svearek alone +had enjoyed hearing him +sing, but he was niggardly +and his brawling thorp was +an endless boredom to a man +used to the courts of southern +princes.</p> + +<p>If he had but had the manhood +to leave— But he had +delayed, because of a lusty +peasant wench and a hope +that Svearek's coffers would +open wider; and now he was +dragged along over the +Wolf's Throat to a midwinter +feast which would have +to be celebrated on the sea.</p> + +<p>"Had we but fire—" Torbek +thrust his hands inside +his cloak, trying to warm +them a little. The ship rolled +till she was almost on her +beam ends; Torbek braced +himself with practiced feet, +but Cappen went into the +bilge again.</p> + +<p>He sprawled there for a +while, his bruised body refusing +movement. A weary +sailor with a bucket glared +at him through dripping +hair. His shout was dim +under the hoot and skirl of +wind: "If ye like it so well +down here, then help us +bail!"</p> + +<p>"'Tis not yet my turn," +groaned Cappen, and got +slowly up.</p> + +<p>The wave which had nearly +swamped them had put out +the ship's fire and drenched +the wood beyond hope of +lighting a new one. It was +cold fish and sea-sodden +hardtack till they saw land +again—if they ever did.</p> + +<p>As Cappen raised himself +on the leeward side, he +thought he saw something +gleam, far out across the +wrathful night. A wavering +red spark— He brushed a +stiffened hand across his +eyes, wondering if the madness +of wind and water had +struck through into his own +skull. A gust of sleet hid it +again. But—</p> + +<p>He fumbled his way aft +between the benches. Huddled +figures cursed him +wearily as he stepped on +them. The ship shook herself, +rolled along the edge of +a boiling black trough, and +slid down into it; for an instant, +the white teeth of +combers grinned above her +rail, and Cappen waited for +an end to all things. Then +she mounted them again, +somehow, and wallowed toward +another valley.</p> + +<p>King Svearek had the +steering oar and was trying +to hold the longboat into the +wind. He had stood there +since sundown, huge and +untiring, legs braced and the +bucking wood cradled in his +arms. More than human he +seemed, there under the icicle +loom of the stern-post, +his gray hair and beard rigid +with ice. Beneath the +horned helmet, the strong +moody face turned right and +left, peering into the darkness. +Cappen felt smaller +than usual when he approached +the steersman.</p> + +<p>He leaned close to the +king, shouting against the +blast of winter: "My lord, +did I not see firelight?"</p> + +<p>"Aye. I spied it an hour +ago," grunted the king. +"Been trying to steer us a +little closer to it."</p> + +<p>Cappen nodded, too sick +and weary to feel reproved. +"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Some island—there are +many in this stretch of water—now +shut up!"</p> + +<p>Cappen crouched down +under the rail and waited.</p> + +<p>The lonely red gleam +seemed nearer when he +looked again. Svearek's +tones were lifting in a roar +that hammered through the +gale from end to end of the +ship: "Hither! Come hither +to me, all men not working!"</p> + +<p>Slowly, they groped to +him, great shadowy forms in +wool and leather, bulking +over Cappen like storm-gods. +Svearek nodded toward the +flickering glow. "One of the +islands, somebody must be +living there. I cannot bring +the ship closer for fear of +surf, but one of ye should be +able to take the boat thither +and fetch us fire and dry +wood. Who will go?"</p> + +<p>They peered overside, and +the uneasy movement that +ran among them came from +more than the roll and pitch +of the deck underfoot.</p> + +<p>Beorna the Bold spoke at +last, it was hardly to be heard +in the noisy dark: "I never +knew of men living hereabouts. +It must be a lair of +trolls."</p> + +<p>"Aye, so ... aye, they'd but +eat the man we sent ... out +oars, let's away from here +though it cost our lives ..." +The frightened mumble was +low under the jeering wind.</p> + +<p>Svearek's face drew into a +snarl. "Are ye men or puling +babes? Hack yer way +through them, if they be +trolls, but bring me fire!"</p> + +<p>"Even a she-troll is stronger +than fifty men, my king," +cried Torbek. "Well ye know +that, when the monster woman +broke through our guards +three years ago and bore off +Hildigund."</p> + +<p>"Enough!" It was a scream +in Svearek's throat. "I'll have +yer craven heads for this, all +of ye, if ye gang not to the +isle!"</p> + +<p>They looked at each other, +the big men of Norren, and +their shoulders hunched bear-like. +It was Beorna who +spoke it for them: "No, that +ye will not. We are free +housecarls, who will fight for +a leader—but not for a madman."</p> + +<p>Cappen drew back against +the rail, trying to make himself +small.</p> + +<p>"All gods turn their faces +from ye!" It was more than +weariness and despair which +glared in Svearek's eyes, +there was something of death +in them. "I'll go myself, +then!"</p> + +<p>"No, my king. That we will +not find ourselves in."</p> + +<p>"I am the king!"</p> + +<p>"And we are yer housecarls, +sworn to defend ye—even +from yerself. Ye shall +not go."</p> + +<p>The ship rolled again, so +violently that they were all +thrown to starboard. Cappen +landed on Torbek, who +reached up to shove him aside +and then closed one huge fist +on his tunic.</p> + +<p>"Here's our man!"</p> + +<p>"Hi!" yelled Cappen.</p> + +<p>Torbek hauled him roughly +back to his feet. "Ye cannot +row or bail yer fair +share," he growled, "nor do +ye know the rigging or any +skill of a sailor—'tis time ye +made yerself useful!"</p> + +<p>"Aye, aye—let little Cappen +go—mayhap he can sing +the trolls to sleep—" The +laughter was hard and barking, +edged with fear, and +they all hemmed him in.</p> + +<p>"My lord!" bleated the +minstrel. "I am your +guest—"</p> + +<p>Svearek laughed unpleasantly, +half crazily. "Sing +them a song," he howled. +"Make a fine roun—whatever +ye call it—to the troll-wife's +beauty. And bring us +some fire, little man, bring +us a flame less hot than the +love in yer breast for yer +lady!"</p> + +<p>Teeth grinned through +matted beards. Someone +hauled on the rope from +which the ship's small boat +trailed, dragging it close. +"Go, ye scut!" A horny hand +sent Cappen stumbling to the +rail.</p> + +<p>He cried out once again. +An ax lifted above his head. +Someone handed him his own +slim sword, and for a wild +moment he thought of fighting. +Useless—too many of +them. He buckled on the +sword and spat at the men. +The wind tossed it back in +his face, and they raved with +laughter.</p> + +<p>Over the side! The boat +rose to meet him, he landed +in a heap on drenched planks +and looked up into the shadowy +faces of the northmen. +There was a sob in his throat +as he found the seat and took +out the oars.</p> + +<p>An awkward pull sent him +spinning from the ship, and +then the night had swallowed +it and he was alone. Numbly, +he bent to the task. Unless he +wanted to drown, there was +no place to go but the island.</p> + +<p>He was too weary and ill +to be much afraid, and such +fear as he had was all of the +sea. It could rise over him, +gulp him down, the gray +horses would gallop over him +and the long weeds would +wrap him when he rolled +dead against some skerry. +The soft vales of Caronne +and the roses in Croy's gardens +seemed like a dream. +There was only the roar and +boom of the northern sea, +hiss of sleet and spindrift, +crazed scream of wind, he +was alone as man had ever +been and he would go down +to the sharks alone.</p> + +<p>The boat wallowed, but +rode the waves better than +the longship. He grew dully +aware that the storm was +pushing him toward the +island. It was becoming visible, +a deeper blackness harsh +against the night.</p> + +<p>He could not row much in +the restless water, he shipped +the oars and waited for the +gale to capsize him and fill +his mouth with the sea. And +when it gurgled in his throat, +what would his last thought +be? Should he dwell on the +lovely image of Ydris in +Seilles, she of the long bright +hair and the singing voice? +But then there had been the +tomboy laughter of dark +Falkny, he could not neglect +her. And there were memories +of Elvanna in her castle +by the lake, and Sirann of +the Hundred Rings, and +beauteous Vardry, and hawk-proud +Lona, and— No, he +could not do justice to any +of them in the little time +that remained. What a pity +it was!</p> + +<p>No, wait, that unforgettable +night in Nienne, the beauty +which had whispered in his +ear and drawn him close, the +hair which had fallen like a +silken tent about his +cheeks ... ah, that had been +the summit of his life, he +would go down into darkness +with her name on his +lips ... But hell! What <i>had</i> +her name been, now?</p> + +<p>Cappen Varra, minstrel of +Croy, clung to the bench and +sighed.</p> + +<p>The great hollow voice of +surf lifted about him, waves +sheeted across the gunwale +and the boat danced in madness. +Cappen groaned, huddling +into the circle of his +own arms and shaking with +cold. Swiftly, now, the end +of all sunlight and laughter, +the dark and lonely road +which all men must tread. +<i>O Ilwarra of Syr, Aedra in +Tholis, could I but kiss you +once more—</i></p> + +<p>Stones grated under the +keel. It was a shock like a +sword going through him. +Cappen looked unbelievingly +up. The boat had drifted +to land—he was alive!</p> + +<p>It was like the sun in his +breast. Weariness fell from +him, and he leaped overside, +not feeling the chill of the +shallows. With a grunt, he +heaved the boat up on the +narrow strand and knotted +the painter to a fang-like jut +of reef.</p> + +<p>Then he looked about him. +The island was small, utterly +bare, a savage loom of rock +rising out of the sea that +growled at its feet and +streamed off its shoulders. +He had come into a little +cliff-walled bay, somewhat +sheltered from the wind. He +was here!</p> + +<p>For a moment he stood, +running through all he had +learned about the trolls which +infested these northlands. +Hideous and soulless dwellers +underground, they knew +not old age; a sword could +hew them asunder, but before +it reached their deep-seated +life, their unhuman strength +had plucked a man apart. +Then they ate him—</p> + +<p>Small wonder the northmen +feared them. Cappen +threw back his head and +laughed. He had once done a +service for a mighty wizard +in the south, and his reward +hung about his neck, a small +silver amulet. The wizard +had told him that no supernatural +being could harm +anyone who carried a piece of +silver.</p> + +<p>The northmen said that a +troll was powerless against +a man who was not afraid; +but, of course, only to see +one was to feel the heart turn +to ice. They did not know +the value of silver, it seemed—odd +that they shouldn't, +but they did not. Because +Cappen Varra did, he had no +reason to be afraid; therefore +he was doubly safe, and +it was but a matter of talking +the troll into giving him +some fire. If indeed there +was a troll here, and not some +harmless fisherman.</p> + +<p>He whistled gaily, wrung +some of the water from his +cloak and ruddy hair, and +started along the beach. In +the sleety gloom, he could +just see a hewn-out path +winding up one of the cliffs +and he set his feet on it.</p> + +<p>At the top of the path, the +wind ripped his whistling +from his lips. He hunched +his back against it and +walked faster, swearing as he +stumbled on hidden rocks. +The ice-sheathed ground was +slippery underfoot, and the +cold bit like a knife.</p> + +<p>Rounding a crag, he saw +redness glow in the face of +a steep bluff. A cave mouth, +a fire within—he hastened +his steps, hungering for +warmth, until he stood in +the entrance.</p> + +<p>"<i>Who comes?</i>"</p> + +<p>It was a hoarse bass cry +that rang and boomed between +walls of rock; there +was ice and horror in it, for +a moment Cappen's heart +stumbled. Then he remembered +the amulet and strode +boldly inside.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, mother," +he said cheerily.</p> + +<p>The cave widened out into +a stony hugeness that gaped +with tunnels leading further +underground. The +rough, soot-blackened walls +were hung with plundered +silks and cloth-of-gold, gone +ragged with age and damp; +the floor was strewn with +stinking rushes, and gnawed +bones were heaped in disorder. +Cappen saw the skulls +of men among them. In the +center of the room, a great +fire leaped and blazed, throwing +billows of heat against +him; some of its smoke went +up a hole in the roof, the rest +stung his eyes to watering +and he sneezed.</p> + +<p>The troll-wife crouched on +the floor, snarling at him. +She was quite the most hideous +thing Cappen had ever +seen: nearly as tall as he, she +was twice as broad and thick, +and the knotted arms hung +down past bowed knees till +their clawed fingers brushed +the ground. Her head was +beast-like, almost split in +half by the tusked mouth, +the eyes wells of darkness, +the nose an ell long; her +hairless skin was green and +cold, moving on her bones. A +tattered shift covered some +of her monstrousness, but she +was still a nightmare.</p> + +<p>"Ho-ho, ho-ho!" Her laughter +roared out, hungry and +hollow as the surf around the +island. Slowly, she shuffled +closer. "So my dinner comes +walking in to greet me, ho, +ho, ho! Welcome, sweet +flesh, welcome, good marrow-filled +bones, come in +and be warmed."</p> + +<p>"Why, thank you, good +mother." Cappen shucked his +cloak and grinning at her +through the smoke. He felt +his clothes steaming already. +"I love you too."</p> + +<p>Over her shoulder, he +suddenly saw the girl. She +was huddled in a corner, +wrapped in fear, but the eyes +that watched him were as +blue as the skies over +Caronne. The ragged dress +did not hide the gentle +curves of her body, nor did +the tear-streaked grime spoil +the lilt of her face. "Why, +'tis springtime in here," cried +Cappen, "and Primavera herself +is strewing flowers of +love."</p> + +<p>"What are you talking +about, crazy man?" rumbled +the troll-wife. She turned to +the girl. "Heap the fire, +Hildigund, and set up the +roasting spit. Tonight I +feast!"</p> + +<p>"Truly I see heaven in female +form before me," said +Cappen.</p> + +<p>The troll scratched her +misshapen head.</p> + +<p>"You must surely be from +far away, moonstruck man," +she said.</p> + +<p>"Aye, from golden Croy +am I wandered, drawn over +dolorous seas and empty +wild lands by the fame of +loveliness waiting here; and +now that I have seen you, +my life is full." Cappen was +looking at the girl as he +spoke, but he hoped the troll +might take it as aimed her +way.</p> + +<p>"It will be fuller," grinned +the monster. "Stuffed with +hot coals while yet you live." +She glanced back at the girl. +"What, are you not working +yet, you lazy tub of lard? +Set up the spit, I said!"</p> + +<p>The girl shuddered back +against a heap of wood. +"No," she whispered. "I cannot—not +... not for a man."</p> + +<p>"Can and will, my girl," +said the troll, picking up a +bone to throw at her. The girl +shrieked a little.</p> + +<p>"No, no, sweet mother. I +would not be so ungallant as +to have beauty toil for me." +Cappen plucked at the troll's +filthy dress. "It is not +meet—in two senses. I only +came to beg a little fire; yet +will I bear away a greater +fire within my heart."</p> + +<p>"Fire in your guts, you +mean! No man ever left me +save as picked bones."</p> + +<p>Cappen thought he heard +a worried note in the animal +growl. "Shall we have music +for the feast?" he asked +mildly. He unslung the case +of his harp and took it out.</p> + +<p>The troll-wife waved her +fists in the air and danced +with rage. "Are you mad? I +tell you, you are going to be +eaten!"</p> + +<p>The minstrel plucked a +string on his harp. "This wet +air has played the devil with +her tone," he murmured +sadly.</p> + +<p>The troll-wife roared wordlessly +and lunged at him. +Hildigund covered her +eyes. Cappen tuned his harp. +A foot from his throat, the +claws stopped.</p> + +<p>"Pray do not excite yourself, +mother," said the bard. +"I carry silver, you know."</p> + +<p>"What is that to me? If +you think you have a charm +which will turn me, know +that there is none. I've no +fear of your metal!"</p> + +<p>Cappen threw back his +head and sang:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<span class="i0">"A lovely lady full oft lies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The light that lies within her eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lies and lies, in no surprise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All her unkindness can devise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To trouble hearts that seek the prize<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which is herself, are angel lies—"<br /></span> +</div> + +<p>"<i>Aaaarrrgh!</i>" It was like +thunder drowning him out. +The troll-wife turned and +went on all fours and poked +up the fire with her nose.</p> + +<p>Cappen stepped softly +around her and touched the +girl. She looked up with a +little whimper.</p> + +<p>"You are Svearek's only +daughter, are you not?" he +whispered.</p> + +<p>"Aye—" She bowed her +head, a strengthless despair +weighting it down. "The +troll stole me away three +winters agone. It has tickled +her to have a princess for +slave—but soon I will roast +on her spit, even as ye, brave +man—"</p> + +<p>"Ridiculous. So fair a lady +is meant for another kind +of, um, never mind! Has she +treated you very ill?"</p> + +<p>"She beats me now and +again—and I have been so +lonely, naught here at all save +the troll-wife and I—" The +small work-roughened hands +clutched desperately at his +waist, and she buried her +face against his breast.</p> + +<p>"Can ye save us?" she +gasped. "I fear 'tis for +naught ye ventured yer life, +bravest of men. I fear we'll +soon both sputter on the +coals."</p> + +<p>Cappen said nothing. If +she wanted to think he had +come especially to rescue +her, he would not be so ungallant +to tell her otherwise.</p> + +<p>The troll-wife's mouth +gashed in a grin as she +walked through the fire to +him. "There is a price," she +said. "If you cannot tell me +three things about myself +which are true beyond disproving, +not courage nor +amulet nor the gods themselves +may avail to keep that +red head on your shoulders."</p> + +<p>Cappen clapped a hand to +his sword. "Why, gladly," he +said; this was a rule of magic +he had learned long ago, that +three truths were the needful +armor to make any guardian +charm work. "Imprimis, +yours is the ugliest nose I +ever saw poking up a fire. +Secundus, I was never in a +house I cared less to guest +at. Tertius, ever among trolls +you are little liked, being +one of the worst."</p> + +<p>Hildigund moaned with +terror as the monster swelled +in rage. But there was no +movement. Only the leaping +flames and the eddying +smoke stirred.</p> + +<p>Cappen's voice rang out, +coldly: "Now the king lies +on the sea, frozen and wet, +and I am come to fetch a +brand for his fire. And I had +best also see his daughter +home."</p> + +<p>The troll shook her head, +suddenly chuckling. "No. +The brand you may have, +just to get you out of this +cave, foulness; but the woman +is in my thrall until a man +sleeps with her—here—for a +night. And if he does, I may +have him to break my fast in +the morning!"</p> + +<p>Cappen yawned mightily. +"Thank you, mother. Your +offer of a bed is most welcome +to these tired bones, +and I accept gratefully."</p> + +<p>"You will die tomorrow!" +she raved. The ground shook +under the huge weight of her +as she stamped. "Because of +the three truths, I must let +you go tonight; but tomorrow +I may do what I will!"</p> + +<p>"Forget not my little +friend, mother," said Cappen, +and touched the cord of +the amulet.</p> + +<p>"I tell you, silver has no +use against me—"</p> + +<p>Cappen sprawled on the +floor and rippled fingers +across his harp. "<i>A lovely +lady full oft lies—</i>"</p> + +<p>The troll-wife turned from +him in a rage. Hildigund +ladled up some broth, saying +nothing, and Cappen ate it +with pleasure, though it could +have used more seasoning.</p> + +<p>After that he indited a sonnet +to the princess, who regarded +him wide-eyed. The +troll came back from a tunnel +after he finished, and said +curtly: "This way." Cappen +took the girl's hand and followed +her into a pitchy, reeking +dark.</p> + +<p>She plucked an arras aside +to show a room which surprised +him by being hung +with tapestries, lit with candles, +and furnished with a +fine broad featherbed. "Sleep +here tonight, if you dare," +she growled. "And tomorrow +I shall eat you—and you, +worthless lazy she-trash, will +have the hide flayed off your +back!" She barked a laugh +and left them.</p> + +<p>Hildigund fell weeping on +the mattress. Cappen let her +cry herself out while he undressed +and got between the +blankets. Drawing his sword, +he laid it carefully in the +middle of the bed.</p> + +<p>The girl looked at him +through jumbled fair locks. +"How can ye dare?" she +whispered. "One breath of +fear, one moment's doubt, and +the troll is free to rend ye."</p> + +<p>"Exactly." Cappen yawned. +"Doubtless she hopes that +fear will come to me lying +wakeful in the night. Wherefore +'tis but a question of going +gently to sleep. O Svearek, +Torbek, and Beorna, +could you but see how I am +resting now!"</p> + +<p>"But ... the three truths ye +gave her ... how knew ye...?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, those. Well, see you, +sweet lady, Primus and Secundus +were my own thoughts, +and who is to disprove them? +Tertius was also clear, since +you said there had been no +company here in three +years—yet are there many +trolls in these lands, ergo +even they cannot stomach our +gentle hostess." Cappen +watched her through heavy-lidded +eyes.</p> + +<p>She flushed deeply, blew +out the candles, and he heard +her slip off her garment and +get in with him. There was a +long silence.</p> + +<p>Then: "Are ye not—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, fair one?" he muttered +through his drowsiness.</p> + +<p>"Are ye not ... well, I am +here and ye are here and—"</p> + +<p>"Fear not," he said. "I laid +my sword between us. Sleep +in peace."</p> + +<p>"I ... would be glad—ye +have come to deliver—"</p> + +<p>"No, fair lady. No man of +gentle breeding could so +abuse his power. Goodnight." +He leaned over, brushing his +lips gently across hers, and +lay down again.</p> + +<p>"Ye are ... I never thought +man could be so noble," she +whispered.</p> + +<p>Cappen mumbled something. +As his soul spun into +sleep, he chuckled. Those unresting +days and nights on +the sea had not left him fit +for that kind of exercise. +But, of course, if she wanted +to think he was being magnanimous, +it could be useful +later—</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>He woke with a start and +looked into the sputtering +glare of a torch. Its light +wove across the crags and +gullies of the troll-wife's +face and shimmered wetly +off the great tusks in her +mouth.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, mother," +said Cappen politely.</p> + +<p>Hildigund thrust back a +scream.</p> + +<p>"Come and be eaten," said +the troll-wife.</p> + +<p>"No, thank you," said Cappen, +regretfully but firmly. +"'Twould be ill for my +health. No, I will but trouble +you for a firebrand and then +the princess and I will be +off."</p> + +<p>"If you think that stupid +bit of silver will protect you, +think again," she snapped. +"Your three sentences were +all that saved you last night. +Now I hunger."</p> + +<p>"Silver," said Cappen didactically, +"is a certain shield +against all black magics. So +the wizard told me, and he +was such a nice white-bearded +old man I am sure even +his attendant devils never +lied. Now please depart, +mother, for modesty forbids +me to dress before your +eyes."</p> + +<p>The hideous face thrust +close to his. He smiled dreamily +and tweaked her nose—hard.</p> + +<p>She howled and flung the +torch at him. Cappen caught +it and stuffed it into her +mouth. She choked and ran +from the room.</p> + +<p>"A new sport—trollbaiting," +said the bard gaily into +the sudden darkness. "Come, +shall we not venture out?"</p> + +<p>The girl trembled too much +to move. He comforted her, +absentmindedly, and dressed +in the dark, swearing at the +clumsy leggings. When he +left, Hildigund put on her +clothes and hurried after him.</p> + +<p>The troll-wife squatted by +the fire and glared at them as +they went by. Cappen hefted +his sword and looked at her. +"I do not love you," he said +mildly, and hewed out.</p> + +<p>She backed away, shrieking +as he slashed at her. In the +end, she crouched at the +mouth of a tunnel, raging futilely. +Cappen pricked her +with his blade.</p> + +<p>"It is not worth my time to +follow you down underground," +he said, "but if ever +you trouble men again, I will +hear of it and come and feed +you to my dogs. A piece at a +time—a very small piece—do +you understand?"</p> + +<p>She snarled at him.</p> + +<p>"An <i>extremely</i> small +piece," said Cappen amiably. +"Have you heard me?"</p> + +<p>Something broke in her. +"Yes," she whimpered. He let +her go, and she scuttled +from him like a rat.</p> + +<p>He remembered the firewood +and took an armful; on +the way, he thoughtfully +picked up a few jeweled +rings which he didn't think +she would be needing and +stuck them in his pouch. +Then he led the girl outside.</p> + +<p>The wind had laid itself, +a clear frosty morning glittered +on the sea and the +longship was a distant sliver +against white-capped blueness. +The minstrel groaned. +"What a distance to row! +Oh, well—"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>They were at sea before +Hildigund spoke. Awe was in +the eyes that watched him. +"No man could be so brave," +she murmured. "Are ye a +god?"</p> + +<p>"Not quite," said Cappen. +"No, most beautiful one, modesty +grips my tongue. 'Twas +but that I had the silver and +was therefore proof against +her sorcery."</p> + +<p>"But the silver was no +help!" she cried.</p> + +<p>Cappen's oar caught a crab. +"What?" he yelled.</p> + +<p>"No—no—why, she told +ye so her own self—"</p> + +<p>"I thought she lied. I <i>know</i> +the silver guards against—"</p> + +<p>"But she used no magic! +Trolls have but their own +strength!"</p> + +<p>Cappen sagged in his seat. +For a moment he thought he +was going to faint. Then only +his lack of fear had armored +him; and if he had known the +truth, that would not have +lasted a minute.</p> + +<p>He laughed shakily. Another +score for his doubts about +the overall value of truth!</p> + +<p>The longship's oars bit water +and approached him. Indignant +voices asking why he +had been so long on his errand +faded when his passenger +was seen. And Svearek +the king wept as he took his +daughter back into his arms.</p> + +<p>The hard brown face was +still blurred with tears when +he looked at the minstrel, but +the return of his old self was +there too. "What ye have +done, Cappen Varra of Croy, +is what no other man in the +world could have done."</p> + +<p>"Aye—aye—" The rough +northern voices held adoration +as the warriors crowded +around the slim red-haired +figure.</p> + +<p>"Ye shall have her whom ye +saved to wife," said Svearek, +"and when I die ye shall rule +all Norren."</p> + +<p>Cappen swayed and +clutched the rail.</p> + +<p>Three nights later he +slipped away from their +shore camp and turned his +face southward.</p> + +<div class="trn"><b>Transcriber's Note:</b> +This etext was produced from <i>Fantastic Universe</i> January 1957. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and +typographical errors have been corrected without note.</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Valor of Cappen Varra, by Poul William Anderson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VALOR OF CAPPEN VARRA *** + +***** This file should be named 29542-h.htm or 29542-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/5/4/29542/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Valor of Cappen Varra + +Author: Poul William Anderson + +Release Date: July 29, 2009 [EBook #29542] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VALOR OF CAPPEN VARRA *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + _We have said that there are many and strange shadows, memories + surviving from dim pasts, in this FANTASTIC UNIVERSE of ours. Poul + Anderson turns to a legend from the Northern countries, countries + where even today the pagan past seems only like yesterday, and tells + the story of Cappen Varra, who came to Norren a long, long time + ago._ + + + the + valor + of + cappen + varra + + by ... _POUL ANDERSON_ + + + "Let little Cappen go," they + shouted. "Maybe he can sing + the trolls to sleep--" + + +The wind came from the north with sleet on its back. Raw shuddering +gusts whipped the sea till the ship lurched and men felt driven +spindrift stinging their faces. Beyond the rail there was winter night, +a moving blackness where the waves rushed and clamored; straining into +the great dark, men sensed only the bitter salt of sea-scud, the nettle +of sleet and the lash of wind. + +Cappen lost his footing as the ship heaved beneath him, his hands were +yanked from the icy rail and he went stumbling to the deck. The bilge +water was new coldness on his drenched clothes. He struggled back to his +feet, leaning on a rower's bench and wishing miserably that his quaking +stomach had more to lose. But he had already chucked his share of +stockfish and hardtack, to the laughter of Svearek's men, when the gale +started. + +Numb fingers groped anxiously for the harp on his back. It still seemed +intact in its leather case. He didn't care about the sodden wadmal +breeks and tunic that hung around his skin. The sooner they rotted off +him, the better. The thought of the silks and linens of Croy was a sigh +in him. + +Why had he come to Norren? + +A gigantic form, vague in the whistling dark, loomed beside him and gave +him a steadying hand. He could barely hear the blond giant's bull tones: +"Ha, easy there, lad. Methinks the sea horse road is too rough for yer +feet." + +"Ulp," said Cappen. His slim body huddled on the bench, too miserable to +care. The sleet pattered against his shoulders and the spray congealed +in his red hair. + +Torbek of Norren squinted into the night. It made his leathery face a +mesh of wrinkles. "A bitter feast Yolner we hold," he said. "'Twas a +madness of the king's, that he would guest with his brother across the +water. Now the other ships are blown from us and the fire is drenched +out and we lie alone in the Wolf's Throat." + +Wind piped shrill in the rigging. Cappen could just see the longboat's +single mast reeling against the sky. The ice on the shrouds made it a +pale pyramid. Ice everywhere, thick on the rails and benches, sheathing +the dragon head and the carved stern-post, the ship rolling and +staggering under the great march of waves, men bailing and bailing in +the half-frozen bilge to keep her afloat, and too much wind for sail or +oars. Yes--a cold feast! + +"But then, Svearek has been strange since the troll took his daughter, +three years ago," went on Torbek. He shivered in a way the winter had +not caused. "Never does he smile, and his once open hand grasps tight +about the silver and his men have poor reward and no thanks. Yes, +strange--" His small frost-blue eyes shifted to Cappen Varra, and the +unspoken thought ran on beneath them: Strange, even, that he likes you, +the wandering bard from the south. Strange, that he will have you in his +hall when you cannot sing as his men would like. + +Cappen did not care to defend himself. He had drifted up toward the +northern barbarians with the idea that they would well reward a minstrel +who could offer them something more than their own crude chants. It had +been a mistake; they didn't care for roundels or sestinas, they yawned +at the thought of roses white and red under the moon of Caronne, a moon +less fair than my lady's eyes. Nor did a man of Croy have the size and +strength to compel their respect; Cappen's light blade flickered swiftly +enough so that no one cared to fight him, but he lacked the power of +sheer bulk. Svearek alone had enjoyed hearing him sing, but he was +niggardly and his brawling thorp was an endless boredom to a man used to +the courts of southern princes. + +If he had but had the manhood to leave-- But he had delayed, because of +a lusty peasant wench and a hope that Svearek's coffers would open +wider; and now he was dragged along over the Wolf's Throat to a +midwinter feast which would have to be celebrated on the sea. + +"Had we but fire--" Torbek thrust his hands inside his cloak, trying to +warm them a little. The ship rolled till she was almost on her beam +ends; Torbek braced himself with practiced feet, but Cappen went into +the bilge again. + +He sprawled there for a while, his bruised body refusing movement. A +weary sailor with a bucket glared at him through dripping hair. His +shout was dim under the hoot and skirl of wind: "If ye like it so well +down here, then help us bail!" + +"'Tis not yet my turn," groaned Cappen, and got slowly up. + +The wave which had nearly swamped them had put out the ship's fire and +drenched the wood beyond hope of lighting a new one. It was cold fish +and sea-sodden hardtack till they saw land again--if they ever did. + +As Cappen raised himself on the leeward side, he thought he saw +something gleam, far out across the wrathful night. A wavering red +spark-- He brushed a stiffened hand across his eyes, wondering if the +madness of wind and water had struck through into his own skull. A gust +of sleet hid it again. But-- + +He fumbled his way aft between the benches. Huddled figures cursed him +wearily as he stepped on them. The ship shook herself, rolled along the +edge of a boiling black trough, and slid down into it; for an instant, +the white teeth of combers grinned above her rail, and Cappen waited for +an end to all things. Then she mounted them again, somehow, and wallowed +toward another valley. + +King Svearek had the steering oar and was trying to hold the longboat +into the wind. He had stood there since sundown, huge and untiring, legs +braced and the bucking wood cradled in his arms. More than human he +seemed, there under the icicle loom of the stern-post, his gray hair and +beard rigid with ice. Beneath the horned helmet, the strong moody face +turned right and left, peering into the darkness. Cappen felt smaller +than usual when he approached the steersman. + +He leaned close to the king, shouting against the blast of winter: "My +lord, did I not see firelight?" + +"Aye. I spied it an hour ago," grunted the king. "Been trying to steer +us a little closer to it." + +Cappen nodded, too sick and weary to feel reproved. "What is it?" + +"Some island--there are many in this stretch of water--now shut up!" + +Cappen crouched down under the rail and waited. + +The lonely red gleam seemed nearer when he looked again. Svearek's tones +were lifting in a roar that hammered through the gale from end to end of +the ship: "Hither! Come hither to me, all men not working!" + +Slowly, they groped to him, great shadowy forms in wool and leather, +bulking over Cappen like storm-gods. Svearek nodded toward the +flickering glow. "One of the islands, somebody must be living there. I +cannot bring the ship closer for fear of surf, but one of ye should be +able to take the boat thither and fetch us fire and dry wood. Who will +go?" + +They peered overside, and the uneasy movement that ran among them came +from more than the roll and pitch of the deck underfoot. + +Beorna the Bold spoke at last, it was hardly to be heard in the noisy +dark: "I never knew of men living hereabouts. It must be a lair of +trolls." + +"Aye, so ... aye, they'd but eat the man we sent ... out oars, let's +away from here though it cost our lives ..." The frightened mumble was +low under the jeering wind. + +Svearek's face drew into a snarl. "Are ye men or puling babes? Hack yer +way through them, if they be trolls, but bring me fire!" + +"Even a she-troll is stronger than fifty men, my king," cried Torbek. +"Well ye know that, when the monster woman broke through our guards +three years ago and bore off Hildigund." + +"Enough!" It was a scream in Svearek's throat. "I'll have yer craven +heads for this, all of ye, if ye gang not to the isle!" + +They looked at each other, the big men of Norren, and their shoulders +hunched bear-like. It was Beorna who spoke it for them: "No, that ye +will not. We are free housecarls, who will fight for a leader--but not +for a madman." + +Cappen drew back against the rail, trying to make himself small. + +"All gods turn their faces from ye!" It was more than weariness and +despair which glared in Svearek's eyes, there was something of death in +them. "I'll go myself, then!" + +"No, my king. That we will not find ourselves in." + +"I am the king!" + +"And we are yer housecarls, sworn to defend ye--even from yerself. Ye +shall not go." + +The ship rolled again, so violently that they were all thrown to +starboard. Cappen landed on Torbek, who reached up to shove him aside +and then closed one huge fist on his tunic. + +"Here's our man!" + +"Hi!" yelled Cappen. + +Torbek hauled him roughly back to his feet. "Ye cannot row or bail yer +fair share," he growled, "nor do ye know the rigging or any skill of a +sailor--'tis time ye made yerself useful!" + +"Aye, aye--let little Cappen go--mayhap he can sing the trolls to +sleep--" The laughter was hard and barking, edged with fear, and they +all hemmed him in. + +"My lord!" bleated the minstrel. "I am your guest--" + +Svearek laughed unpleasantly, half crazily. "Sing them a song," he +howled. "Make a fine roun--whatever ye call it--to the troll-wife's +beauty. And bring us some fire, little man, bring us a flame less hot +than the love in yer breast for yer lady!" + +Teeth grinned through matted beards. Someone hauled on the rope from +which the ship's small boat trailed, dragging it close. "Go, ye scut!" A +horny hand sent Cappen stumbling to the rail. + +He cried out once again. An ax lifted above his head. Someone handed him +his own slim sword, and for a wild moment he thought of fighting. +Useless--too many of them. He buckled on the sword and spat at the men. +The wind tossed it back in his face, and they raved with laughter. + +Over the side! The boat rose to meet him, he landed in a heap on +drenched planks and looked up into the shadowy faces of the northmen. +There was a sob in his throat as he found the seat and took out the +oars. + +An awkward pull sent him spinning from the ship, and then the night had +swallowed it and he was alone. Numbly, he bent to the task. Unless he +wanted to drown, there was no place to go but the island. + +He was too weary and ill to be much afraid, and such fear as he had was +all of the sea. It could rise over him, gulp him down, the gray horses +would gallop over him and the long weeds would wrap him when he rolled +dead against some skerry. The soft vales of Caronne and the roses in +Croy's gardens seemed like a dream. There was only the roar and boom of +the northern sea, hiss of sleet and spindrift, crazed scream of wind, he +was alone as man had ever been and he would go down to the sharks alone. + +The boat wallowed, but rode the waves better than the longship. He grew +dully aware that the storm was pushing him toward the island. It was +becoming visible, a deeper blackness harsh against the night. + +He could not row much in the restless water, he shipped the oars and +waited for the gale to capsize him and fill his mouth with the sea. And +when it gurgled in his throat, what would his last thought be? Should he +dwell on the lovely image of Ydris in Seilles, she of the long bright +hair and the singing voice? But then there had been the tomboy laughter +of dark Falkny, he could not neglect her. And there were memories of +Elvanna in her castle by the lake, and Sirann of the Hundred Rings, and +beauteous Vardry, and hawk-proud Lona, and-- No, he could not do justice +to any of them in the little time that remained. What a pity it was! + +No, wait, that unforgettable night in Nienne, the beauty which had +whispered in his ear and drawn him close, the hair which had fallen like +a silken tent about his cheeks ... ah, that had been the summit of his +life, he would go down into darkness with her name on his lips ... But +hell! What _had_ her name been, now? + +Cappen Varra, minstrel of Croy, clung to the bench and sighed. + +The great hollow voice of surf lifted about him, waves sheeted across +the gunwale and the boat danced in madness. Cappen groaned, huddling +into the circle of his own arms and shaking with cold. Swiftly, now, the +end of all sunlight and laughter, the dark and lonely road which all men +must tread. _O Ilwarra of Syr, Aedra in Tholis, could I but kiss you +once more--_ + +Stones grated under the keel. It was a shock like a sword going through +him. Cappen looked unbelievingly up. The boat had drifted to land--he +was alive! + +It was like the sun in his breast. Weariness fell from him, and he +leaped overside, not feeling the chill of the shallows. With a grunt, he +heaved the boat up on the narrow strand and knotted the painter to a +fang-like jut of reef. + +Then he looked about him. The island was small, utterly bare, a savage +loom of rock rising out of the sea that growled at its feet and streamed +off its shoulders. He had come into a little cliff-walled bay, somewhat +sheltered from the wind. He was here! + +For a moment he stood, running through all he had learned about the +trolls which infested these northlands. Hideous and soulless dwellers +underground, they knew not old age; a sword could hew them asunder, but +before it reached their deep-seated life, their unhuman strength had +plucked a man apart. Then they ate him-- + +Small wonder the northmen feared them. Cappen threw back his head and +laughed. He had once done a service for a mighty wizard in the south, +and his reward hung about his neck, a small silver amulet. The wizard +had told him that no supernatural being could harm anyone who carried a +piece of silver. + +The northmen said that a troll was powerless against a man who was not +afraid; but, of course, only to see one was to feel the heart turn to +ice. They did not know the value of silver, it seemed--odd that they +shouldn't, but they did not. Because Cappen Varra did, he had no reason +to be afraid; therefore he was doubly safe, and it was but a matter of +talking the troll into giving him some fire. If indeed there was a troll +here, and not some harmless fisherman. + +He whistled gaily, wrung some of the water from his cloak and ruddy +hair, and started along the beach. In the sleety gloom, he could just +see a hewn-out path winding up one of the cliffs and he set his feet on +it. + +At the top of the path, the wind ripped his whistling from his lips. He +hunched his back against it and walked faster, swearing as he stumbled +on hidden rocks. The ice-sheathed ground was slippery underfoot, and the +cold bit like a knife. + +Rounding a crag, he saw redness glow in the face of a steep bluff. A +cave mouth, a fire within--he hastened his steps, hungering for warmth, +until he stood in the entrance. + +"_Who comes?_" + +It was a hoarse bass cry that rang and boomed between walls of rock; +there was ice and horror in it, for a moment Cappen's heart stumbled. +Then he remembered the amulet and strode boldly inside. + +"Good evening, mother," he said cheerily. + +The cave widened out into a stony hugeness that gaped with tunnels +leading further underground. The rough, soot-blackened walls were hung +with plundered silks and cloth-of-gold, gone ragged with age and damp; +the floor was strewn with stinking rushes, and gnawed bones were heaped +in disorder. Cappen saw the skulls of men among them. In the center of +the room, a great fire leaped and blazed, throwing billows of heat +against him; some of its smoke went up a hole in the roof, the rest +stung his eyes to watering and he sneezed. + +The troll-wife crouched on the floor, snarling at him. She was quite the +most hideous thing Cappen had ever seen: nearly as tall as he, she was +twice as broad and thick, and the knotted arms hung down past bowed +knees till their clawed fingers brushed the ground. Her head was +beast-like, almost split in half by the tusked mouth, the eyes wells of +darkness, the nose an ell long; her hairless skin was green and cold, +moving on her bones. A tattered shift covered some of her monstrousness, +but she was still a nightmare. + +"Ho-ho, ho-ho!" Her laughter roared out, hungry and hollow as the surf +around the island. Slowly, she shuffled closer. "So my dinner comes +walking in to greet me, ho, ho, ho! Welcome, sweet flesh, welcome, good +marrow-filled bones, come in and be warmed." + +"Why, thank you, good mother." Cappen shucked his cloak and grinning at +her through the smoke. He felt his clothes steaming already. "I love you +too." + +Over her shoulder, he suddenly saw the girl. She was huddled in a +corner, wrapped in fear, but the eyes that watched him were as blue as +the skies over Caronne. The ragged dress did not hide the gentle curves +of her body, nor did the tear-streaked grime spoil the lilt of her face. +"Why, 'tis springtime in here," cried Cappen, "and Primavera herself is +strewing flowers of love." + +"What are you talking about, crazy man?" rumbled the troll-wife. She +turned to the girl. "Heap the fire, Hildigund, and set up the roasting +spit. Tonight I feast!" + +"Truly I see heaven in female form before me," said Cappen. + +The troll scratched her misshapen head. + +"You must surely be from far away, moonstruck man," she said. + +"Aye, from golden Croy am I wandered, drawn over dolorous seas and empty +wild lands by the fame of loveliness waiting here; and now that I have +seen you, my life is full." Cappen was looking at the girl as he spoke, +but he hoped the troll might take it as aimed her way. + +"It will be fuller," grinned the monster. "Stuffed with hot coals while +yet you live." She glanced back at the girl. "What, are you not working +yet, you lazy tub of lard? Set up the spit, I said!" + +The girl shuddered back against a heap of wood. "No," she whispered. "I +cannot--not ... not for a man." + +"Can and will, my girl," said the troll, picking up a bone to throw at +her. The girl shrieked a little. + +"No, no, sweet mother. I would not be so ungallant as to have beauty +toil for me." Cappen plucked at the troll's filthy dress. "It is not +meet--in two senses. I only came to beg a little fire; yet will I bear +away a greater fire within my heart." + +"Fire in your guts, you mean! No man ever left me save as picked bones." + +Cappen thought he heard a worried note in the animal growl. "Shall we +have music for the feast?" he asked mildly. He unslung the case of his +harp and took it out. + +The troll-wife waved her fists in the air and danced with rage. "Are you +mad? I tell you, you are going to be eaten!" + +The minstrel plucked a string on his harp. "This wet air has played the +devil with her tone," he murmured sadly. + +The troll-wife roared wordlessly and lunged at him. Hildigund covered +her eyes. Cappen tuned his harp. A foot from his throat, the claws +stopped. + +"Pray do not excite yourself, mother," said the bard. "I carry silver, +you know." + +"What is that to me? If you think you have a charm which will turn me, +know that there is none. I've no fear of your metal!" + +Cappen threw back his head and sang: + + "_A lovely lady full oft lies. + The light that lies within her eyes + And lies and lies, in no surprise. + All her unkindness can devise + To trouble hearts that seek the prize + Which is herself, are angel lies--_" + +"_Aaaarrrgh!_" It was like thunder drowning him out. The troll-wife +turned and went on all fours and poked up the fire with her nose. + +Cappen stepped softly around her and touched the girl. She looked up +with a little whimper. + +"You are Svearek's only daughter, are you not?" he whispered. + +"Aye--" She bowed her head, a strengthless despair weighting it down. +"The troll stole me away three winters agone. It has tickled her to have +a princess for slave--but soon I will roast on her spit, even as ye, +brave man--" + +"Ridiculous. So fair a lady is meant for another kind of, um, never +mind! Has she treated you very ill?" + +"She beats me now and again--and I have been so lonely, naught here at +all save the troll-wife and I--" The small work-roughened hands clutched +desperately at his waist, and she buried her face against his breast. + +"Can ye save us?" she gasped. "I fear 'tis for naught ye ventured yer +life, bravest of men. I fear we'll soon both sputter on the coals." + +Cappen said nothing. If she wanted to think he had come especially to +rescue her, he would not be so ungallant to tell her otherwise. + +The troll-wife's mouth gashed in a grin as she walked through the fire +to him. "There is a price," she said. "If you cannot tell me three +things about myself which are true beyond disproving, not courage nor +amulet nor the gods themselves may avail to keep that red head on your +shoulders." + +Cappen clapped a hand to his sword. "Why, gladly," he said; this was a +rule of magic he had learned long ago, that three truths were the +needful armor to make any guardian charm work. "Imprimis, yours is the +ugliest nose I ever saw poking up a fire. Secundus, I was never in a +house I cared less to guest at. Tertius, ever among trolls you are +little liked, being one of the worst." + +Hildigund moaned with terror as the monster swelled in rage. But there +was no movement. Only the leaping flames and the eddying smoke stirred. + +Cappen's voice rang out, coldly: "Now the king lies on the sea, frozen +and wet, and I am come to fetch a brand for his fire. And I had best +also see his daughter home." + +The troll shook her head, suddenly chuckling. "No. The brand you may +have, just to get you out of this cave, foulness; but the woman is in my +thrall until a man sleeps with her--here--for a night. And if he does, I +may have him to break my fast in the morning!" + +Cappen yawned mightily. "Thank you, mother. Your offer of a bed is most +welcome to these tired bones, and I accept gratefully." + +"You will die tomorrow!" she raved. The ground shook under the huge +weight of her as she stamped. "Because of the three truths, I must let +you go tonight; but tomorrow I may do what I will!" + +"Forget not my little friend, mother," said Cappen, and touched the cord +of the amulet. + +"I tell you, silver has no use against me--" + +Cappen sprawled on the floor and rippled fingers across his harp. "_A +lovely lady full oft lies--_" + +The troll-wife turned from him in a rage. Hildigund ladled up some +broth, saying nothing, and Cappen ate it with pleasure, though it could +have used more seasoning. + +After that he indited a sonnet to the princess, who regarded him +wide-eyed. The troll came back from a tunnel after he finished, and said +curtly: "This way." Cappen took the girl's hand and followed her into a +pitchy, reeking dark. + +She plucked an arras aside to show a room which surprised him by being +hung with tapestries, lit with candles, and furnished with a fine broad +featherbed. "Sleep here tonight, if you dare," she growled. "And +tomorrow I shall eat you--and you, worthless lazy she-trash, will have +the hide flayed off your back!" She barked a laugh and left them. + +Hildigund fell weeping on the mattress. Cappen let her cry herself out +while he undressed and got between the blankets. Drawing his sword, he +laid it carefully in the middle of the bed. + +The girl looked at him through jumbled fair locks. "How can ye dare?" +she whispered. "One breath of fear, one moment's doubt, and the troll is +free to rend ye." + +"Exactly." Cappen yawned. "Doubtless she hopes that fear will come to me +lying wakeful in the night. Wherefore 'tis but a question of going +gently to sleep. O Svearek, Torbek, and Beorna, could you but see how I +am resting now!" + +"But ... the three truths ye gave her ... how knew ye...?" + +"Oh, those. Well, see you, sweet lady, Primus and Secundus were my own +thoughts, and who is to disprove them? Tertius was also clear, since you +said there had been no company here in three years--yet are there many +trolls in these lands, ergo even they cannot stomach our gentle +hostess." Cappen watched her through heavy-lidded eyes. + +She flushed deeply, blew out the candles, and he heard her slip off her +garment and get in with him. There was a long silence. + +Then: "Are ye not--" + +"Yes, fair one?" he muttered through his drowsiness. + +"Are ye not ... well, I am here and ye are here and--" + +"Fear not," he said. "I laid my sword between us. Sleep in peace." + +"I ... would be glad--ye have come to deliver--" + +"No, fair lady. No man of gentle breeding could so abuse his power. +Goodnight." He leaned over, brushing his lips gently across hers, and +lay down again. + +"Ye are ... I never thought man could be so noble," she whispered. + +Cappen mumbled something. As his soul spun into sleep, he chuckled. +Those unresting days and nights on the sea had not left him fit for that +kind of exercise. But, of course, if she wanted to think he was being +magnanimous, it could be useful later-- + + * * * * * + +He woke with a start and looked into the sputtering glare of a torch. +Its light wove across the crags and gullies of the troll-wife's face and +shimmered wetly off the great tusks in her mouth. + +"Good morning, mother," said Cappen politely. + +Hildigund thrust back a scream. + +"Come and be eaten," said the troll-wife. + +"No, thank you," said Cappen, regretfully but firmly. "'Twould be ill +for my health. No, I will but trouble you for a firebrand and then the +princess and I will be off." + +"If you think that stupid bit of silver will protect you, think again," +she snapped. "Your three sentences were all that saved you last night. +Now I hunger." + +"Silver," said Cappen didactically, "is a certain shield against all +black magics. So the wizard told me, and he was such a nice +white-bearded old man I am sure even his attendant devils never lied. +Now please depart, mother, for modesty forbids me to dress before your +eyes." + +The hideous face thrust close to his. He smiled dreamily and tweaked her +nose--hard. + +She howled and flung the torch at him. Cappen caught it and stuffed it +into her mouth. She choked and ran from the room. + +"A new sport--trollbaiting," said the bard gaily into the sudden +darkness. "Come, shall we not venture out?" + +The girl trembled too much to move. He comforted her, absentmindedly, +and dressed in the dark, swearing at the clumsy leggings. When he left, +Hildigund put on her clothes and hurried after him. + +The troll-wife squatted by the fire and glared at them as they went by. +Cappen hefted his sword and looked at her. "I do not love you," he said +mildly, and hewed out. + +She backed away, shrieking as he slashed at her. In the end, she +crouched at the mouth of a tunnel, raging futilely. Cappen pricked her +with his blade. + +"It is not worth my time to follow you down underground," he said, "but +if ever you trouble men again, I will hear of it and come and feed you +to my dogs. A piece at a time--a very small piece--do you understand?" + +She snarled at him. + +"An _extremely_ small piece," said Cappen amiably. "Have you heard me?" + +Something broke in her. "Yes," she whimpered. He let her go, and she +scuttled from him like a rat. + +He remembered the firewood and took an armful; on the way, he +thoughtfully picked up a few jeweled rings which he didn't think she +would be needing and stuck them in his pouch. Then he led the girl +outside. + +The wind had laid itself, a clear frosty morning glittered on the sea +and the longship was a distant sliver against white-capped blueness. The +minstrel groaned. "What a distance to row! Oh, well--" + + * * * * * + +They were at sea before Hildigund spoke. Awe was in the eyes that +watched him. "No man could be so brave," she murmured. "Are ye a god?" + +"Not quite," said Cappen. "No, most beautiful one, modesty grips my +tongue. 'Twas but that I had the silver and was therefore proof against +her sorcery." + +"But the silver was no help!" she cried. + +Cappen's oar caught a crab. "What?" he yelled. + +"No--no--why, she told ye so her own self--" + +"I thought she lied. I _know_ the silver guards against--" + +"But she used no magic! Trolls have but their own strength!" + +Cappen sagged in his seat. For a moment he thought he was going to +faint. Then only his lack of fear had armored him; and if he had known +the truth, that would not have lasted a minute. + +He laughed shakily. Another score for his doubts about the overall value +of truth! + +The longship's oars bit water and approached him. Indignant voices +asking why he had been so long on his errand faded when his passenger +was seen. And Svearek the king wept as he took his daughter back into +his arms. + +The hard brown face was still blurred with tears when he looked at the +minstrel, but the return of his old self was there too. "What ye have +done, Cappen Varra of Croy, is what no other man in the world could have +done." + +"Aye--aye--" The rough northern voices held adoration as the warriors +crowded around the slim red-haired figure. + +"Ye shall have her whom ye saved to wife," said Svearek, "and when I die +ye shall rule all Norren." + +Cappen swayed and clutched the rail. + +Three nights later he slipped away from their shore camp and turned his +face southward. + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _Fantastic Universe_ January 1957. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and + typographical errors have been corrected without note. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Valor of Cappen Varra, by Poul William Anderson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VALOR OF CAPPEN VARRA *** + +***** This file should be named 29542.txt or 29542.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/5/4/29542/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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