Read Online A Midsummer Tempest by Poul Anderson - Free Book Online Page B

Rupert said, to those twain who were like swirls and currents in the moonlight that poured around him: “Your Majesties are not of human blood. What have theologies to do with you?”
    Oberon drew his cloak tight, as if a wind had arisen—in the white wet stillness of the night—from which its gauze could shield. He spoke nearly too low to be heard: “A creed which bears no love for Mother Earth, but rather sees her as an enemy which it is righteous to make booty of, to rape, to wound, to gouge, to gut, toflay, then bury under pavement, slag, and trash, and call machines to howl around the grave … that creed will bring that doom.”
    His head drooped. “But long ere then, with wonder, woods, and waters, we’ll be dead. Already soot and iron shrink our range. When every churchly minister abhors us and hunts us out … no longer are we strong. We cannot stand before anathemas. First England, then the world—”
    Elven swift, his resolve returned. He straightened and declared aloud: “The Royal cause defends the Old Ways, knowing it or not. Whatever be the faults—the arrogance of King and bishops, squalid greeds of nobles, lump-stodginess of yeomanry and burghers, and gross or petty tyrannies these breed—still, such are found in every human clime; and you’d at least preserve what keeps your kind from turning to a pox upon the globe, and would not scour the Faerie realm from off it.”
    He raised an arm. “My spells, my wands, my secret silent wells descry for me a faint ambiguous hope, though not its form, borne by the three of you. Therefore we aided thine escape, Prince Rupert. Now we would give some further help and counsel, if thou’lt accept it. Then we’ve shot our bolt, and can but wait to see where it may strike.”
    Though hardly moving, the man seemed to crouch. “By the eternal,” he whispered, “it shakes the teeth and bones when such a gauntlet’s cast before the feet. Yet Arthur took it. Dare I be afraid?”
    “I am, I am,” Jennifer almost wept. “What dream has fallen on me? O Mother, come and help me to awaken!”
    Will laid an arm around her shoulders. “Thou’st tumbled into eeriness, poor lass,” he murmured hoarsely; “but one grows used to anything erelong.”
    “Why must they be this oratorical,” grumbled Puck, “and how, when chins are dragging on the ground? Be done, be off; and if the Roundhead shaves so ye can’t beard him, give his nose a tweak. Howe’er,” he added after a moment, “be sure to wear that gauntlet, Rupert, for ’tis a sharp and thrusting nose indeed.” He cockedhis head to look at Jennifer. “I feel an inkling thou wilt also ride on this adventure.” He delivered a gunshot slap to her bottom. “Well, thou’rt nicely cushioned!”
    She jumped, gasped, and smacked his face in return. He leered. Indignation burning out terror, she stared back toward Rupert. The prince had not noticed the byplay. Standing as if at attention, he said, “Within the bounds of faith and morals, sir—and common sense—I’ll fare by your advice.”
    A smile drifted across Oberon’s lips. “No doubt we need a careful qualifier,” he said; then, grave again: “I fear I can but send thee on a search, and where and what to seek know only darkly. Thy King, thy cause, thyself cannot prevail unless the Earth herself may fight for thee. So spake the prophesying spells I cast. But how shall Earth, mere soil and rock and water, mere air and life, resist an iron Death?
    “There once were words and tokens full of might. It may be these can raise their elements in threatened children of old Mother Earth. But the North’s great magicians long are dust, and naught remains save feeble country witches and such poor powers as we keep in Faerie.” Oberon shook his head, a slow back-and-forth weaving. “And yet,” he breathed, “what oracles that I could seek gave half-heard whisperings about an isle far to the south, in realms I do not ken—for they lie west of Greece where