Sir Arsam of Estash with the knights who followed him marched south in good order near to the coast, or as near as the terrain allowed. Which at times was far because of rocky cliffs tall and unsteady. Later, where the earth no longer vaunted its height over its cousin the ocean, it instead thrust itself far out in a reef hated by sailors who hoped to see their homes again.
There were villages on the southward course they chose, but none that had seaworthy ships or means to build them, if even the spoils those knights seized from the king's conquered knights and lords paid for it. Neither were they willing to wait, who were men with ardor for travel and adventure but none for carpentry. They passed through towns as well farther out from Cuculna, but none that were better for their ends.
Those places also were wanting in anything that led to fame, as the people in them turned to festivals and merriment when they heard of the doom of the king they called Viljami. Quarrels that they had among them before ended in friendship all at once, and disputes over wealth and borders lost their urgency. Men who before pressed their claims with all their will and every means thought instead of the lands soon to be reclaimed from animals and creeping plants that thrived where men did not, and further of the trade they would have among the cities there and elsewhere when the roads of earth and water both became safer to use.
From that, the knights were in such a mood that when they heard mysterious talk of a city nearby, named by its people Saphonium, they had more of cheer than the men of the town where they heard it understood, who were unsettled by that. Much as a fox, not yet a year old, lives through the winter as well as it can with no hope that ever will it know spring again frolics beyond measure when at last the sun is again kind, so too did those knights rejoice when they heard of that city famed for its harbor and the skill of its shipwrights that even then held a festival that was far from common. For the towns and villages near were full of rumors as to what suit of clothes should have such heed given to it as the Saphonians then did so that they urged all about to wear it. There was much of honesty as there not always is, in that none claimed to know for sure the why of it.
Sir Arsam had no worry over whether the reason was known or not, but said this. “I will never leave this land but that first I have done something worth doing. That was the pledge I made in my heart when first we left Cuculna. Whether this matter of the clothes has aught to do with me or not, I will enter into the matter without fail, and I have no doubt there will be room for me in it.”
The other knights liked it well what he said and wended through the low and sheep-loved hills before the city Saphonium with no care for the length of the journey. After all the miles they had gone across the blue-gray sea and after that over the horse-roads from Cuculna, those tireless men had yet vigor enough that only with some struggle did their feet obey them and walk rather than run. They commanded that for the sake of the travelers on the road who would doubtless be afeared saw they racing toward them a band of warlike men, two and twenty altogether and each one bold and hard to face in battle, a sight to make men tremble.
But Saphonium was not a city to quail when such a group came to it. Its walls, once laid low at Viljami's order, its people had rebuilt higher than before in later years when the sway of that king waned from how seldom he left Cuculna, and against them no brigand could do anything but complain about the unfairness that they were born in an age where masonry was esteemed, unlike the days long past when men lived long, the fields needed no working, and there was no skill in such things. Height was not all the merit of those walls, or thickness, or the whiteness they had to them that greeted the sun every day and gave back its light most courteously, but they were great in length also so as to encircle the calm harbor that gave the city trade with ocean-hugging cities to the north and to the south.
The Saphonians within had fared best of any under Viljami's unwanted rule by reason of their land-scorning wealth, better even than Mordei with its love of arms and courage that warded off robbers. They made use of their plenty then. The streets had been cleaned that they might be dirtied again by crowds going to the north and the south, the east and the west, where men and women were eager to meet their friends in the squares and the galleries that the people liked to make more lavish than those of other cities, and had pride in that. There were also goods brought on foam-washed ships that at other times were able to be shown only at fixed hours and places under the laws, but at that time it was not so, and there was much of buying everywhere.
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The knights with Sir Arsam, men of many countries, seemed odd only for their mail and helms rather than their varied looks or the marvel they had at what they saw. Many foreigners other were there in the city, and all joyous, save one. There was a knight who had on his shield a river that split the land into two, and on either side there was a crown. Sir Arsam when he saw him was minded to speak with him, for that man looked not about him, it seemed, but at some place far away that it was his purpose to reach.
“Hello, sir knight, and I hope you are well. I am Arsam of Estash. My fellow knights and I came to this country from others far away, and there is a story in that, but not one that needs be told now, for all here are merry enough already. But what I hope to learn is the reason for that, for again, we are come here only this hour and know nothing of it but a few words lying Rumor said.” He gave the names as well of all his band when the knight did not scorn to know them and showed he was willing to talk.
“Welcome all you knights to this land, and I think I do not overstep myself to say that. I am Augusto of Mordei, a city nearby no less than this one in its honor and history, but as to its wealth, I will say nothing to belittle my people. We are rivals, Mordei and Saphonium, but forget it if you would, for today nothing of that sort is worth heeding. We are all here at the urging of what happened shortly before and what the lord, Count Servius is his name, had done because of it. It was the visit of Gaspar that caused it, but whether you know him or not is unclear.”
“Indeed not, unless you mean the king who was a son of King Theodore, that ancient ruler most renowned of all of them. We are from lands farther away than that, to know any here,” Sir Joram of Calnim said.
“There are many who would be grieved at how little fame our worthiest have, but I will bear it. Gaspar is a man whose line goes back to that king, which is nothing uncommon in this country. What makes the Gaspar who lives today worthier than most of our esteem, which he has, is his wisdom that men say is equal to that of the king of old, so far as anything today can be a match for what was. He travels from city to city and village to village, and many are grateful for his advice as to weather, to blights and murrains, to the laws and customs that, when followed, have kept peace when strife might have followed, and more beside.
“When last he came to Saphonium he praised one man here, or it was deemed praise. Festus was the man, a tailor by trade, and Gaspar said of him that there was something unearthly in the clothes that he made, though he knew not what. After that Festus waxed in fame and business till even Count Servius took notice. He went to that shop, not willing that a servant go in his place, and asked that Festus work on this task, that clothes be made for Saphonium's lord that were good to be worn by a man of high seat on days when the public would see him. If you think he refused, you are mistaken in that, but it was what happened next that was odd.
“Count Servius commanded the clothes be delivered on a feasting day that he might wear something new when he had charge of the merriment, but when Festus brought them out, all could see the size was wrong. The tailor was troubled then and feared the lord's wrath, and so swore he would adjust them to fit that very hour, though how he made such a mistake was a matter for which he had no why. He measured the count again with all watching and hurried to do the work, and many followed him to watch as well who vouched that he cut, he sewed, and he changed the fit without doubt. But when he gave over those clothes, they were no more right in their size than before, but instead just alike.
“Never in his life did Festus have more fear than then, and he trembled as he stood before the count and added to the drink at the feast his own tears, and the people were quiet and stared. But Count Servius was not wroth at that. He made a joke of it and said he had learned what Gaspar meant by unearthly, for on all the earth he had never heard the like, and he called for the feast to go on. During it he had this thought as well, that it were merry to find a man who could wear those clothes and not stretch or be lost in them. We had word after that about the death of the sorcery-working king who wanted our wealth and earned our hatred, and every city hurried so as not to be the last to revel, and not the least either. Saphonium opened its shining gates to all and its lord said this, that the man who fit the clothes of set size would be feasted and have such gifts from him that the people would wish for a dozen Viljamis to come that they might die to spur such largesse. Now that I made that report, thorough as it was, I must have one from you, for there is sure to be something behind such knights as you, as well as ahead.”
Sir Arsam's band was pleased at Sir Augusto's story and how he told it, and they told him what he liked just as much. “And now I suppose we all of us must try on those clothes or else give our lands a name for rudeness. I cannot bear that above all,” said Sir Arsam.
“You will do well in that, should you desire to prove your knightliness more, I think. Festus the tailor did not shiver and weep without cause, for the hand of Count Servius is not always light, and what is a source of merriment for him is oft a matter of woe to others,” Sir Augusto told them.