V
A MARBLE fireplace made warm a chamber which maroon hangings and Persian rug softened. While window glass gave a view-hardly distorted at all-of an inner court where blooming had long since ended, roses from a solarium planter filled a crystal vase on an inlaid table. Books numbered a score, both Greek and Latin. Pavle Subitj, Ban of Hrvatska, was in his heart more a man of the West than of the East.
Tall in a silken robe, white hair and beard neatly trimmed, he seemed no less than the Liri king, though Vanimen, likewise attired in what was his gift, did loom above him. Both had grown too intense in their discourse to remain seated.
“Yes, I hope your tribe will stay in this realm,” he was saying.
“Perhaps I’ve not made sufficiently clear how much I want it. Your unique abilities-as fishermen, sailors, pilots you’ll be val-uable. But a new war is brewing with Venice. In that, you could be priceless.” He studied the other. “Of course, I’d reward such service as best as I was able.”
Vanimen scowled. “Why should we enter a quarrel that’s none of ours?” he retorted.
“It will be yours, for you will be our countrymen.”
“Indeed? That was not what we came in search of.”
“I know. You wanted to rebuild a Faerie life, which impinged
little on mortal mankind. Well, you’ve found what is better. High-est is salvation, immortal souls and the fatherhood of God. How-ever, scoff not at material gains, which themselves comfort the spirit. For instance, you’ve related, in these past days of your visit, how hard and perilous it actually was undersea, how often you knew bereavement. Would you deny your people-your chil-dren-liberation from the shark?”
The merman began pacing, back and forth, hands gripped together behind him. “We’d readily be your friends,” he said. “Grant us an islet where we can remain ourselves, and you’ll find us stout partners in work, trade, seafaring… yes, even in war, if that is inescapable. But you demand more. You’d make us into something altogether alien. Why do you require we be christened?”
“Because I must,” Pavle told him. “It would ruin me, before Church and throne and populace alike, if I let a colony of halfworld creatures take root; and who then would be your protector? As it is, I’ve worked harder than you imagine, to contain the news of you. Outside the Skradin vicinage, there go naught but rumors. In that wise I gained peace for everyone to become acquainted.
It cannot last.
“Even when you join us, I’ll strive that that happen quietly. No public tidings, no dispatches to King or Pope. Most of you will stay where you now are, or move to the coast nearby if you prefer nautical trades. Those who travel farther, with naval com-manders or merchant adventurers, they’ll go one or a few at a time-remarkable, yes, but in human company of limited size.
“That’s for your good as well as mine, Vanimen. Did your story spread wide, excitement might easily take a dangerous turn. Fear of the unknown could link you in ignorant minds with the Devil. It could end with your being hunted down, the fortunate among you butchered, the unfortunate burnt at the stake.”
“Aye,” the merman growled, “you’re right. . . and nonetheless you’d have us become like your kind?”
He halted, straightened to his full height, and said, “No. We’ll return to the waters and our quest. You’ll be rid of us.”
“Suppose I forbid your departure,” the Ban said quietly.
“We’ll elude your troops, or break through them, or die in our
freedom.” Vanimen’s tone was as soft.
Pavle smiled sadly. “Peace. I won’t. If indeed you would go, you have my leave. Yet where will you seek, and how? You must needs be barred from this kingdom, and likeliest no Mediterranean coast will have you. If you win back to the ocean, well, you can swim south along Africa, .though the toll as you fare will be dreadful. But can you endure the tropics, you breed of the North?”
Vanimen stood mute.
After a minute, Pavle went on: “Let’s imagine you do in some
way find a home. What will you have gained? At best, a few centuries. Then Faerie must depart existence, and you with it.”