The escape of Slungandi: chapter 2 of Gantzor the Coldsword

 

Meanwhile Slungandi, Drumster of the Deep, and keeper of Sporni the shard of the Talyoran, endured his agelong captivity in the Aulihaudë Ráda. Among the people that attended upon and guarded him there was a maiden by the name of Thëanetsa, one of the company of Swanmaidens. These are they who possess swancloaks, in which, it is told, they transform themselves into great white birds and fly where their Lady sends them. And turn and turn about they swim to and fro upon the waters of the Lake, keeping a perpetual watch.

Now the Lady’s servants waited upon Slungandi by turns. And the Lady so ordained it that Thëanetsa waited on him regularly. Thëanetsa was passing fair, and she looked on Slungandi tenderly. But her mistress had charged her with one simple aim: to obtain, by whatever means, the shard of the Talyoran, so that the Lady Endáyra might rejoin it to the body of the Talyoran, which lay lifeless in her hands. Then she could wield the full power of that wondrous crystal.

And so Thëanetsa treated Slungandi as one she greatly loved. At first, she spoke directly of the Talyoran, and how wonderful would be the reuniting of its parts, and how happily her mistress and the lord Slungandi could work together, using it for the good of the Midworld. And when this argument failed, she tried cajolement and flattery and all kinds of pleasing wiles. But Slungandi courteously refused her entreaties. And the lady Endáyra resolved to hazard a final throw.

So then, after a time, Thëanetsa came to Slungandi one afternoon, when all was quiet in Aulihaudë Ráda, and said:

‘I am to tell you from my Lady that you are too courteous and honourable a guest to house in this dark chamber beneath the level of the waters. She instructs me to invite you into my own apartments, which are fair chambers, opening upon the lake.’

To this Slungandi mildly assented, perceiving the hidden purpose of the Lady, and seeing how he might turn it to his own advantage. Then Slungandi gathered up his few belongings and followed Thëanetsa to her apartments. So they entered a spacious chamber, richly adorned and appointed. At the nearer end Thëanetsa’s bower was set apart within its fine curtains. In the midst were three shallow steps spanning the width of the room. At the further end the paved floor ran out through an open casement into the waters of the lake. And beyond the lake the distant mountains, the Dagnath Nebren, made a dark line on the horizon.

At the top of the steps two couches were placed facing each other at an angle. Thëanetsa gestured to Slungandi to be seated, and sat down opposite him.

In another place, not very far from this chamber, the Lady of the Lake, Endáyra the Fair, held council with the chiefs of her people. For she said:

The Talyoran’s child   shall with charm be won

By the swanmaiden   from Slungandi.

And she bade them be ready to force their way into the chamber of Thëanetsa and obtain the shard from her before Slungandi could retrieve it.

Seated at ease on the soft couch Slungandi said:

O watermaiden,   wondrously housed!

So rich a room,   wrought worthily!

Now those doors’ design   I desire to know,

Why their sills are set   like the sea’s margin

So that the lake laps them.   Is it to land some craft,

Or for your body’s bath   ere your bed calls you?

Saying these last words, Slungandi placed one hand upon the shape of Sporni, hidden at his breast under his clothing, and gazed intently upon the maiden. At once her eyes were drawn to that hand as if she could not resist the pull of what it covered, and replied:

The swanmaiden, sir,   who must swim abroad

Or fly afar   to the forest’s border

Must take cloak for clothing   close to water

Don her flight feathers   by the flowing stream.

Slungandi repeated under his breath the rune of waking sleep, the ûthéat tâgimlonya, and said:

Since you speak secrets   of the swanmaidens,

Slungandi sees   your soul’s steadfastness,

And will bring forth now   to bless your eyes

The shard the Lady   longs to behold 

(It shall be secret,   sworn between us)

The Talyoran’s child.   So cheat me not!

Under the power of waking sleep, Thëanetsa nodded her head drowsily, though her eyes were bright and wide. Then Slungandi slowly drew Sporni from his hiding place at his breast, and as the shard came forth it sparkled with all the brightness of the undivided Talyoran. Thëanetsa’s eyes now fixed themselves upon the shining shard.

Slungandi said:

Say, swanmaiden,   now you see Sporni,

That you will hear his voice   and make haste to act!

Thëanetsa said:

I see Sporni  and serve his will.

Slungandi said:

Then fair one, fetch   your feathercape

And yourself prepare    to take swan’s likeness!

As Slungandi held up Sporni before her eyes, Thëanetsa arose like one who walks in her sleep. She moved to her bower, with Slungandi stepping beside her, and, leaning within, brought forth the great, white, feathered garment, her swancloak. Then, turning back, she descended the steps to the water’s edge.

Slungandi said:

 Now Lady, lay   land garb aside,

And assume swiftly   your swan’s likeness.

Thëanetsa stepped from her sandals and laid her gown aside. She took up the swancloak and waded into the water, saying this casting rune:

Theganê-ettesáh-ê, ni-ophelu tyámulku-emef!

Then she arrayed herself in the cloak, pulling its hood over her head and wrapping it tight around her as she stood in the water. 

Slungandi watched for any lessening of the waking sleep, and listened intently to her words. By his searching of the Deep, he knew that a rune, changed every day, must be said privily to enable the coming change of shape. Sure enough, he caught the words that she whispered under her breath:

Rilsider kalyana féore-súvedu (the reeds rustle in the western wind)

Then she cried out the rune of reshaping in Deepspeech:

Upakede lakimesha thevani mehurbanesh

Lakimesha thevani mehurbanesh upakede

Thevani mehurbanesh upakede lakimesha

Mehurbanesh upakede lakimesha thevani

Rapidly her shape changed, and there stood in the shallows a fair white swan, greater by far than any mortal bird of that tribe, and as he watched, she launched herself upon the waters, passing through the casements and into the lake beyond.

Then Slungandi bent his mind upon the swan, and rimed a rune of returning, Ûthéat Atasovanedh. The swan came up short, beating her broad wings and stretching her neck as if in anger; but then she subsided, turned about, and glided back to the landing place. Slungandi held Sporni before the swan and repeated in reverse the rune of transformation:

Inaveth ashemikal edekapu shenabruhem

Ashemikal edekapu shenabruhem inaveth

Edekapu shenabruhem inaveth ashemikal

Shenabruhem inaveth ashemikal edekapu

Then there stood once more before him in the shallows the swanmaiden Thëanetsa, wrapped in the swancloak. Swiftly, once more brandishing Sporni before her eyes, he took her hand and led her up the steps and into the bower. He took the swancloak from her and placed her gently in her bed. She lay as still as if she were asleep, and he placed the covers over her. Then he took the feathered cloak and returned to the waterside. He stowed Sporni away, put off his outer clothes and packed them in the wallet which he bore at his side. Then, stepping into the water, he wrapped himself in the swancloak. Knowing that the cloak answered only to its owner’s Deep name, Theganê-ettesâh, he spoke the casting rune as Thëanetsa had:

Theganê-ettesáh-ê, ni-ophelu tyamulku-emef!

Then he whispered:

Rilsider kalyana féore-súvedu

and called out the rune of transformation. Instantly he knew his form had changed, felt the great wings, the lengthened neck, the strong bill where his mouth had been, and the broad white breast embracing the water.

At that very moment the door of Thëanetsa’s apartment was forced open and several of Endáyra’s folk rushed in. Their swift glances took in the swanmaiden in her bed, the shoes and gown cast aside, and the great swan at the window, and they knew that their captive was escaping. As they called out and readied their bows, Slungandi, in swan form, beat his wings and rose from the water. Soaring into the air he swung aside to confuse their aim, then made off rapidly to the north. Their arrows sped after him in vain.