Pages

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Books vs. e-Books:

Why I Like Books


* Because they come in all different sizes and colours
* Because you can draw on the blank pages, write notes in the margins, underline splendid words or even whole sentences, and (most important mark of ownership) write your name on the flyleaf
* Because you can censor words or phrases (or even on occasion whole passages) with a black marker
* Because the sense of acquisition is greater with thick, heavy volumes than with mere electrons on a screen
* Because you can burn them (an old and honourable tradition)
* Because when severely annoyed you can throw them across the room or hit someone with them
* Because you can tear the pictures out of them and hang them on your wall
* Because they look better as decorations
* Because you don’t need internet access to read them
* Because you can read them by the light of a candelabrum
* Because you can close them with a bang
* Because when they have sat for a long time on the shelf and you close them with a bang (see above), they send up clouds of dust
* Because you can hide notes, maps, codes, and diagrams of top-secret, technologically-advanced devices inside them
* Because you can use them to create a book cipher (if you don't know what that is, look it up on Wikipedia)
* What else are you going to do with your bookmark collection?
* Because the word ‘e-book’ is a slangy abbreviation of the correct term, ‘electronic book’
* Because correctly capitalising the word ‘e-book’ is a nightmare for editors with OCD
* Because you look smarter when reading War and Peace if everyone can see the size of the book and its title
* Because you can re-sell a book
* Because they allow you to keep a private library in your home
* Because the best way to learn about someone is to look at his bookshelves
* Because when left lying on end tables they afford topics for otherwise flagging conversation
* Because people are more willing to lend a book than their e-reader
* Because they do not emit bright lights which keep other people awake at night
* Because you won’t waste time playing games on them (unless it’s tic-tac-toe)
* Because they smell so pleasant, especially when old
* Because they give you a reason to buy beautiful bookshelves

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Knight Rupert: IX.

Chapter IX.


‘A frame of adamant, a soul of fire,
No dangers fright him, and no labours tire.’

-Johnson


ABOUT HALF-WAY between Ratavaria castle and the capital city was a wayside inn which was well frequented by the village folk. It had begun as a cottage and had become an inn when its proprietor added a second storey to it and replaced its humble thatching with wooden shingles. For the final touch, he had hung up a wooden sign over the door on which was painted a black vulture clutching a crown between its two claws. The symbol had had some sort of meaning in medieval days but no one remembered what it was anymore and the inn was usually called the Royal Vulture.
On this particular night there was only one person in the main room of the inn—a man in military uniform who carried a sabre and pistols. In fact, he was none other than Capt. Hergyll.
The innkeeper came in to trim the lamp and paused as he passed the table where the captain sat.
‘Can I get you some supper, Captain?’ he asked.
‘No. No, thank you, Fritz. I’m expecting some men here quite soon, but you needn’t stay up to wait on us. You may go to bed if you like.’
‘Oh, it’s no trouble, sir. They’ll be wanting something to drink when they come, I’ll be bound. I’ll sit up.’
The landlord finished trimming the lamp and went away to the kitchen where he promptly fell asleep in his chair. Captain Hergyll waited on, his eyes fixed unconsciously on the door of the inn.
His thoughts were far away, for he was trying to remember everything he was supposed to say to the men he was going to meet with. Suddenly he started and brought his mind back from wandering. The door, as he had been gazing on it, had swung soundlessly open and there appeared before his amazed eyes like a dread apparition the form of young Rupert Ratavarian.
Hergyll stared, wondering if he had fallen asleep and was dreaming. He sat motionless as Rupert moved quietly into the room and realised slowly that he was completely unable to make a move nor a noise, so great was his surprise. The intruder closed the door and leaned against it. Then Hergyll saw that Rupert held a pistol levelled at his breast.
‘Hello, Hergyll; you’re just the man I’ve come to see,’ he said in a voice that was quiet, but still full of his usual vibrancy. ‘You’ll pardon the incivility of this,’ he said, shaking the pistol slightly. ‘I was afraid you might call for Fritz.’
‘You’ve no need to fear that,’ said Hergyll, recovering his speech with an effort. ‘I have no intention of calling anyone. I daresay you’ve as much right to come to this inn as I have.’
‘The difference lies in our separate chances of being arrested if found here,’ said Rupert.
‘Well, if it will put your mind at ease, I’ll give you my word not to call out. I’m not afraid to meet you man to man.’
‘Thank you, I accept your guarantee,’ said Rupert, replacing the pistol in his pocket and striding forward.
‘What do you want with me?’ asked Hergyll wonderingly.
‘Just a few minutes of your time,’ said Rupert, taking a chair opposite to him.
‘I don’t know what folly brought you here, but if you value your life, you will go away at once. Algromond is coming here tonight, or some of his men, and will be here any minute.’
‘I know, that’s why I came. I wanted to talk to you first.’
‘I’m warning you for your own good,’ said Hergyll earnestly. ‘If Algromond finds you, he’ll kill you without asking any questions.’
‘Never mind about me. I know the risks and I won’t leave until I’ve had my say.’
‘Well then, get it said as quickly as possible,’ Hergyll urged. ‘I’m listening, but I can’t promise more.’
Rupert glanced up at the wooden clock on the wall.
‘I’ve time,’ he said. ‘Where’s Fritz, anyway?’
‘In the kitchen, as I believe.’
‘Doesn’t matter, I doubt he’d betray me; he’s a good sort.’
‘What did you want to say?’ asked Hergyll.
‘Wait a minute, I’ll get to that. Haven’t you anything to drink here? No? How do you expect to keep awake?’
‘Wine makes one sleepy,’ Hergyll pointed out.
‘Only if you’re not used to it. Wait here while I rout some out.’
Hergyll tried to protest, but Rupert had already disappeared into the kitchen. He was back in a moment without looking as if he’d hurried.
‘Fritz was in there, all right—he’s sound asleep as Sisera,’ he said, setting a bottle and two glasses on the table between them. ‘Here we are; now we can talk properly.’
‘No thank you,’ said Hergyll. ‘I think it would be wiser if you had your say first and your drink afterwards.’
‘Calm down down a bit, Hergyll,’ said Rupert, who was imperturbably calm himself. ‘I’m here on Raymond’s business, not mine, and I’ll tend to it after I’ve made myself comfortable. Von Rimmel’s been driving you a bit hard recently, too. Why not take the opportunity to rest a bit while you have it?’
‘I’m only doing what I’ve agreed to do and I’m getting paid for it, so why should I complain? If I were you, I wouldn’t let Raymond send me on such dangerous missions. You might very well lose your life, you know.’
‘It’s as voluntary an employment as yours. I don’t have to be here: danger appeals to me, that’s all. What I can’t understand is what motives make you von Rimmel’s willing pawn? You haven’t any interest in his success, and you do the greater share of the work in getting it.’
‘It’s my duty,’ said Hergyll.
Rupert smirked.
‘Well, never mind about me,’ said Hergyll, ignoring his impoliteness. ‘Tell me what you’ve come for and get it over with. Your being here makes me nervous.’
Rupert was silent for a moment, lighting his cigarette.
‘The trouble is,’ he said, straightening up and turning to Hergyll, ‘I can’t get to the bottom of von Rimmel. There’s something he’s hiding.’
‘Hiding?’ asked Hergyll, surprised.
‘Listen,’ said Rupert. ‘Von Rimmel’s determined to put Algromond on the throne simply to spite my uncle. Why should Algromond be king? He’s no more suited for it than Raymond—they’re equal ruffians. Raymond has a better claim and von Rimmel knows it. What difference does it make to von Rimmel anyway which of them gets the crown? He never liked Algromond before. Why should he help him now?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Hergyll.
‘Why not? Hasn’t he ever told you?’
‘I’m only his aide-de-camp, why should he tell me anything?’
‘You’re the only person he ever does tell anything. Doesn’t he trust you?’
‘I’m sure he has his own reasons.’
‘So am I, and they must be very good reasons too. Algromond’s holding something over him.’
‘What do you mean? Bribes? But the marshal would never take a bribe! That’s all nonsense.’
‘Not a bribe. There’s a thought, but no, I don’t think he would. Blackmail’s more what I was thinking.’
‘But how could Algromond blackmail the marshal?’ asked Hergyll confusedly. ‘Algromond hasn’t any power over him—and the marshal doesn’t listen to threats.’
‘Something shady in von Rimmel’s past—easy enough to dredge up and threaten his career with it. Algromond’s been tightening the screw, I’ll bet on it.’
‘No, that’s impossible. The marshal isn’t that sort of person—I mean—I really don’t think—’
‘Oh come, Hergyll, we all have our skeletons in the closet. If that isn’t what’s behind von Rimmel’s motives, tell me what is.’
‘I’ll never believe any such thing of the marshal,’ said Hergyll.
‘Just as you please,’ said Rupert with a lift of his shoulders. ‘I know for a fact, though, that Algromond bribed two Council members, and has another under his thumb through some sort of legal case. He’s utterly without scruples.’
‘Your uncle,’ said Hergyll stiffly, ‘has much higher principles, I’m sure.’
He didn’t like Rupert’s insinuations about Marshal von Rimmel, whom Hergyll held in great esteem.
Rupert laughed. ‘That’s not bad, Hergyll, I wouldn’t have expected that much humour from you. Principles, ha! My uncle has something better than principles, though. He makes sure he isn’t caught, which Algromond hasn’t brains enough to do.’
‘Well, as for that, who’s to say you’re telling the truth about Algromond? I haven’t heard that from anyone else yet. Do you have proof?’
‘I can get it, but I don’t have to; Algromond hasn’t a very good record.’
‘Well, what does that matter to me?’
Rupert leaned forward. ‘Look here,’ he said, ‘Algromond has played the bully long enough. Now’s the time to push von Rimmel to make Raymond king. You don’t want Algromond king, and neither does your precious marshal. Make Raymond king and you’ll have a secure government for once in Waldovia’s history. Come on, what do you say?’
‘Nonsense!’ said Hergyll in bewilderment, ‘I’ve no say in von Rimmel’s affairs. I’m only his aide-de-camp, like I told you.’
‘Then get rid of von Rimmel. Raise the army against him. You could do it with Raymond backing you. The whole Council’s afraid of him.’
‘You’re mad!’ gasped Hergyll.
‘Why shouldn’t you? The army would benefit from fresh management. It’s a chance I would take.’
‘You—I—lead a coup against Marshal von Rimmel? No, I couldn’t.’
‘Can’t is one thing—couldn’t’s another. You mean, of course, that you won’t do it out of scruple—or do you think it won’t work?’
‘I mean,’ said Hergyll, ‘that it would be wrong to do such a thing, and I won’t.’
Rupert raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, if you won’t be persuaded…though, like I say, it’s a chance you’ll never get again. Do you want to remain nothing more than an aide-de-camp for the rest of your career?’
‘I want to do my duty,’ said Hergyll. ‘I don’t want any part in these political problems. Whoever comes to the throne I’ll serve to the best of my abilities, but I don’t want any say in who will be king and who won’t be. God sets up kings.’
‘You’ve not a drop of ambition, have you?’ said Rupert. ‘Well, if you won’t accept that proposal, I’ve another to offer. Don’t see Algromond tonight.’
‘Why not?’
‘What good would it do anyone? Why should you always be at Algromond’s beck and call? Besides, he only wants to hatch out some more trouble for us.’
‘It’s von Rimmel’s orders that I see him tonight; I’ve no say in the matter.’
A slight silence followed this remark and in it a gentle pulsing sound came down the wind to the ears of the two men. It was the sound of hooves approaching far off down the road.
‘That’s Algromond,’ said Hergyll. ‘Get out while you’ve a chance.’
‘You’re too fair for your own good, Hergyll,’ said Rupert without making a move. ‘—Then you won’t consider either of my proposals? Pity, I’d hoped you would.’
‘See here,’ said Hergyll earnestly, ‘I haven’t any influence with the marshal, but you’ve influence with your uncle—you’re the only one he listens to. Bring him to a conference with Algromond, with von Rimmel to mediate. You can both bring Algromond to terms between you. Work out your claims and decide who is the rightful king. Will you do it? Quickly now, for they’ll be here any moment—yes or no?’
Hergyll, in his earnestness, had half risen from his chair and leaned across the table, as the approaching hooves beat closer and closer.
Rupert’s reply was, as usual, unexpected. Till that point they had been speaking in low tones, but now he leaned back in his chair and laughed out loud.
‘I pity you, Hergyll,’ he said. ‘You’re either exceedingly simple-minded or you’re one of those people who want to believe the best of everybody. Now really, if there were any possibility of coming to terms peacefully, don’t you think they’d have done it by now? You’re speaking of two desperate and determined men who both mean to be king and have to kill the other before they can do it.’
The door opened as he finished speaking and several men entered. They stopped suddenly on seeing Rupert and paused uncertainly half-way across the room. Fritz, awakened by the noise, came in from the kitchen rubbing his eyes and yawning. Hergyll had risen fully and stood, looking apprehensively at them. In fact, the only person in the room who seemed at ease was Rupert, who still leaned back in his chair and smoked idly. His back was to the new-comers and he did not even seem aware of their presence, but if you had looked closely, you would have seen him fiercely concentrated on every sound behind him.
The men stepped into the lamplight. Algromond was not there after all, but three of his men were and the baron von Bülow as well. At first they did not recognise Rupert, seeing only his back, but coming closer the first man, Algromond’s top hench-man Keirgehard, saw who it was.
‘Ratavarian!’ he cried, ‘what are you doing here?’
He stepped forward and put out his hand to grasp Rupert’s collar, but changing his mind, he stopped at a discreet distance and asked him again what he was doing there.
‘Hello, von Bülow,’ said Rupert over his shoulder. ‘Come to try your luck at the cards? Sit down, there’s plenty of wine left.’
‘Not tonight,’ said von Bülow grimly. ‘You’re under arrest, Ratavarian.’
‘I gathered that,’ said Rupert, turning round in his chair. There was nothing he liked better than a tight spot.
‘I hope you will come quietly,’ said von Bülow, coming up and stopping five feet from him. ‘And while you’re at it, you might tell us what you happen to be doing here.’
‘I’ve been having a talk with Hergyll.’
‘What about?’
‘The weather.’
‘Enough of your impudence. Will you come quietly, or must we use force?’
‘Why spoil a splendid evening?’ said Rupert, leaning back and crossing his arms.
‘We have business with Captain Hergyll,’ said Keirgehard.
‘You want me to go away?’
‘You’ll stay here—as prisoner.’
‘And those are my only options?’
‘You have only one option!’
Rupert gave an insolent grin.
‘Stop wasting time,’ said von Bülow, growing impatient.
‘I’m at your service, gentlemen.’
‘Then hand over your sword,’ said Keirgehard, stepping forward.
‘If I turn myself in, it will be to the military police, Keirgehard—not to Algromond’s blackguards. Where are your men, von Bülow? Off on Algromond’s orders?’
‘My men are at the capital,’ said von Bülow. ‘These fellows will have to do.’
‘Enough parley!’ said Keirgehard. ‘Throw down your arms, Ratavarian, or I put a bullet through you!’
He pulled his pistol from his belt and levelled it at Rupert’s head. Rupert crossed his legs.
‘I’m in no hurry,’ he said. ‘I’m under arrest.’
‘Not till you’ve handed over your weapons,’ said von Bülow. ‘I don’t trust you till then.’
‘Oh, very well,’ said Rupert, getting to his feet. ‘I hope you’ll consider my offer, Hergyll. It still stands.’
‘No thank you,’ said Hergyll abstractedly.
He was never afterwards certain what happened next. There was a moment of blank confusion and then Keirgehard was shouting,
‘Stop the villain! He’s put out the lamp!’
His exclamation ended in a groan. Hergyll jerked his pistol from his belt, but it was worse than useless in the dark. He dashed forward and collided with someone—he thought it was von Bülow. He was right, for the next instant von Bülow’s voice shouted in his ear,
‘He’s made out by the door! Outside, quickly!’
They rushed about, stumbling over one another, trying to find the door. The first man out was one of Algromond’s men, Voch. The moment he stepped through the doorway a shot was fired from somewhere outside and he fell forward.
‘Out! After him!’ shouted von Bülow, who was by no means a coward.
He was the second one out, but not a sign of Rupert did he see.
‘He must have his horse tied around the back,’ he said to Hergyll. ‘We didn’t see it when we rode up. You go round this way, and I’ll go round the other.’
There was no need to, though, for with a clatter of loose stones, a horseman came around the inn and galloped off down the road. The men ran to their horses and gave pursuit.
The moon was on the wane and there was scarcely any light to see by. Hergyll had the sensation as he rode through the darkness that he was going nowhere at all. He guided his horse by the sound of hoofbeats close at hand. Von Bülow could make out the road enough to follow it roughly, but he was listening for the horse ahead and trying to make out its shape in the darkness clearly enough to shoot its rider.
They rode for nearly a mile and at last swept around a curve in the road and over a stone bridge when Von Bülow pulled up and called a halt.
‘It’s no use going further as we are. He’s gotten the gain of us. He’ll make it to the capital before we will and then he’ll have the rest of Ratavarian’s henchmen behind him.’
Hergyll looked around and realised that there was no one with him except for von Bülow.
‘Where are the others?’ he asked.
‘Back at the inn, killed or wounded by that blackguard,’ said von Bülow. ‘Come, we might as well go back and find out.’
‘Then you shan’t be able to arrest him,’ said Hergyll.
‘Not to-night. There’s no telling where he is by now, and he could ambush us easily between here and the capital if he wanted to. If I had known he would be at the inn to-night, I would have brought a whole company of soldiers. Never mind! We’ll have our chance at him yet! Come on.’
They arrived back at the inn to find it dark and apparently deserted.
‘Fritz! Where have you got to? Come out, man!’ called von Bülow, groping for the extinguished lamp.
A voice at the top of the stairs called down to them plaintively.
‘Oh, what’s happened? Is everyone dead?’
‘Where’s your husband?’ called von Bülow.
They heard the pat of bare feet coming down the stairs and Fritz’s wife in a nightgown and woolen wrapper came into the light of the lamp von Bülow had re-lit, blinking and trembling.
‘Oh! Blood!’ she cried and covered her face.
Hergyll and von Bülow looked about the room in the uncertain light. Keirgehard, Voch, and another of Algromond’s men lay at different points and in various contorted attitudes on the floor. Fritz was behind the door. He had apparently been knocked out when they had thrown it open in their rapid exit.
Nobody was dangerously hurt, although Keirgehard was bleeding badly, and Voch’s arm was broken from Rupert’s bullet. They groaned a good deal as Hergyll and von Bülow tended to their wounds. What had happened, as far as anyone could tell, was that Rupert had managed to knock the lamp down on the head of the third of Algromond’s men, stunning him and drenching him in lamp oil. Keirgehard, taken off guard, had not had time to fire his pistol and his shouts only gave away his position in the darkness so that Rupert had had opportunity to stick his knife into him.
‘He must have been shooting for where he knew the door to be when he got Voch,’ said von Bülow. ‘There wasn’t enough of a moon to take aim by.’
‘He settled with three, then,’ said Hergyll, ‘—not counting Fritz. One against five and to come off so well!’
‘Ah! well, it’ll be our turn next time,’ said von Bülow.

*        *        *