Lyonesse II - The Green Pear and Madouc (51 page)

“Interesting,” said Aillas. “So then?”

“My tale begins with Twitten. Hippolito of Maule acquired his almanac, and it was purloined by Visbhume. For reasons unknown, Casmir sent Visbhume to ask questions of Glyneth, and he took her to Tanjecterly, for various reasons: one of; these being Tamurello’s hope that I or Murgen would foolishly trap ourselves forever. Instead, as you know, we sent. Kul, that he might rescue Glyneth. In the absence of facts, it! is hard to judge his success …”

THE CARPET-WOLE COURSED OFF in a direction which Glyneth decided to call east, opposite to the point in the sky where she had first noted the black moon. This odd celestial object had already shifted perceptibly, veering toward the north while remaining the same distance above the horizon.

For ten miles the wole ran along the riverbank, with open plains to the south. In the distance a band of long-legged beings took interested note of their passage and even began to make a rather menacing approach, but the wole increased its pace and the creatures lost interest in pursuit. The river swung away to the north and the wole set off across a seemingly limitless steppe, with short blue grass below and spherical trees scattered at far intervals.

Kul rode forward on the first shoulders of the beast, standing flat-footed with legs somewhat apart. Glyneth, perched high on the cushioned bench of the pergola, sat where she could see in all directions. Had she chosen to do so, she might have stepped down to the rug which covered the wole’s back and walked aft to where Visbhume sat hunched over the wole’s hindquarters, his eyes liquid with resentment for the indignity of the leash around his neck. For a period Glyneth ignored Visbhume, save for an occassional glance to ensure that he might not be about his crafty tricks. Finally she descended to the rug and went aft. She asked Visbhume: “Is there no night here?”

“None.”

“Then how do we keep time, and know when to sleep?”

“Sleep when you are tired,” snapped Visbhume. “That is the rule. As for keeping time, the black moon must serve as I A clock.”

“And how far is Asphrodiske?”

“That is hard to say. Several hundred leagues, perhaps. Twitten has not drawn maps for our ease and delectation.”

An idea came into Visbhume’s mind; he blinked and licked his lips. “Still, his surveys are exact. Bring the almanac and I will make the calculations.”

Glyneth ignored the request. She looked to the side, gauging the passing landscape. “At this pace we are surely travelling four or five leagues each hour. Will the wole tire?”

“It wants to rest and eat grass for the same time that it runs.”

“Then in fifty hours it will take us a hundred leagues. That is my reckoning.”

“The reckoning is fair and equable, but accounts neither for dangers nor delays.”

Glyneth looked up at the circling suns. “I am so tired now that I could sleep standing on my feet.”

“I too am tired,” said Visbhume. “Let us stop so that we may refresh ourselves. Tired as I am, I will keep the first watch, so that you and the beast may sleep.”

” ‘Beast’? Kul?”

“Just so.”

Glyneth went forward to Kul. “Are you tired?” Kul considered the state of his being. “Yes, I am tired.”

“Should we stop to sleep?”

Kul surveyed the landscape. “I see no urgent threat.”

“Visbhume has kindly offered to take the first watch, so that you and I might sleep in comfort.”

“Ah! Visbhume shows a rare magnanimity!”

“He also knows some dreadful tricks.”

“Just so. Our sleep might be sound and deep and long. Still, in the harness box I have discovered a fine length of rope, and Visbhume perhaps will oblige us after all.”

Arriving at a spot where two trees grew fifty feet apart, Kul brought the wole to a halt and dropped its anchor. With eager interest Visbhume inquired: “What now? Do we rest? Shall I keep the first watch? If so, remove this leash, so that I may look right and left with all possible facility.”

“In good time,” said Kul. From the harness box at the back of the pergola he brought a coil of strong rope. He tied one end to one of the trees, then signaled to Visbhume, “Stand exactly here, halfway between the trees.”

With a wincing scowl Visbhume obeyed. Kul removed leash, knotted the rope around Visbhume’s neck, then, going to the other tree, drew the rope tight so that Visbhume was; fixed between the two trees, unable to move in either direction far enough to free himself, even though his arms and hands were free.

Glyneth watched with approval. “Now you must search him well! There are pockets in his sleeves and his trousers and perhaps even his shoes.”

Visbhume cried out in fury: “Am I to be allowed no I privacy of person? This sort of search is contrary to every known rule of gentility.”

Kul carefully searched Visbhume’s garments, and it became clear that Glyneth, through diffidence, had failed to search Visbhume with sufficient care. Kul discovered a short tube of unknown employment, a brown box containing what seemed to be a miniature cottage, and in the seams of Visbhume’s pantaloons, two lengths of stiff if resilient steel wire. The inside of Visbhume’s belt yielded a dagger. The boots, the cravat and the gathering of the pantaloons at Visbhume’s bony ankles seemed innocent of contraband. Glyneth examined the miniature cottage. “This would seem a magic cottage. How is it made large?”

“That is a most valuable property,” said Visbhume. “I do I not allow its general use.”

Kul said: “Visbhume, so far your skin is largely whole. You have eaten well and you have ridden on the wole. If these conditions agree with you, answer each question directly and with truth; otherwise you shall come upon a great sadness.”

Visbhume blurted angrily: “Put the miniature house on the ground land cry out: ‘House, grow big!’ When you wish it to reduce, cry out: ‘House, grow small!’”

Glyneth put the miniature house on the ground and cried out: “House, grow big!” Immediately she was yielded a cottage of comfortable aspect, with smoke already rising from the chimney.

Kul said: “Visbhume, you shall keep first watch, as you so kindly offered. If any tricks are left to you, which I do not doubt, try none of them, since I will be alert.”

Entering the house, Glyneth found a comfortable couch and throwing herself down, fell instantly asleep.

She awakened after an unknown period to find Visbhume sleeping on the ground beside the cottage while Kul sat drowzing in the doorway. Glyneth went across the room and stroked the black fur covering his scalp. Kul looked up. “You are awake.”

“I will keep watch. Now you sleep.” Kul rose from the chair and looked around the room. For a moment Glyneth thought that he might stretch out on the floor, but he lay down on the couch and was at once asleep.

Visbhume presently awoke. Glyneth pretended not to notice. Visbhume studied the situation through eyelids barely slitted open, through which his eyes glinted like the yellow eyes of a fox.

Visbhume studied Glyneth a moment or two. He whispered: “Glyneth!” Glyneth looked toward him. Visbhume asked: “Is the creature asleep?” Glyneth nodded.

Visbhume spoke in the most cajoling of voices: “You know truly that your interests lie with me, the powerful and mighty Visbhume! So then: will you join with me in sacred and absolute cabal? We will defeat the monster beast, with his slavering threats and objectionable attitudes!”

“Indeed? And then?”

“You know the love I bear for you! Can you feel the quiver of a like feeling for me?”

“What then?”

“Then: away to Asphrodiske, and back to Earth at the, coming of the quaver.”

“And that will be when?”

“A short time, shorter than you might think!”

“Visbhume! You alarm me! Have we enough time?”

“If all goes well and I am in command.”

“But how do we know how long or short is our time?”

“By the black moon! When the radius swings to the diameter exactly opposite the gate by which we entered, that is the time! Now, will you join me in deep and unassailable cabal?”

“Kul is terrible and strong.”

“So am I! Does he think all my power is gone?”

“I hope so!”

Then you are with me?”

“Of course not.”

“What! You prefer the beast to me, Visbhume who lives and dances to the thrilling musics?”

“Visbhume, sleep while you have the chance. Your foolishness is keeping Kul awake.”

Visbhume spoke in a low and almost sibilant tone: “For the last time you have flouted me, and how you shall regret it!”

Glyneth made no response.

Kul awoke; the three made breakfast upon milk, bread, butter, cheese, onions and ham from the pantry, then Glyneth called: “House, grow small!”

The cottage shrank quickly to miniature size, and Glyneth carefully returned it to its box. They climbed aboard the wole and once again set off across the plain.

Today Visbhume wished to share the comforts of the pergola with Glyneth. “From this vantage I command a wide view! In a flash I can apprehend danger at a great distance!”

“You are the rearguard,” said Kul. “You must spy out dangers overtaking us from behind; that is your duty, and your best vantage is over the hindquarters, exactly as yesterday. Quick now! The black moon rolls around the sky, and we must arrive at Asphrodiske in good time.”

Across the plain of blue grass ran the wole, the splayed legs coursing forward and back so that the tassels of the rug jerked to the motion. Kul knelt at the base of the pergola, leaning forward so that his massive shoulders almost filled the space between the wole’s ocular horns. Glyneth reclined at her ease across the pergola’s cushioned bench, one slim leg idly dangling, while Visbhume hunched at the far end of the rug, glumly looking back the way they had come.

To the north appeared a deep forest of dark blue and purple trees. Drawing near they saw a tall manse of dark timber, built to a style elegant and stately, with many narrow glass windows, turrets and cupolas, as well as a dozen elaborate follies and crotchets included apparently for the sheer relief of boredom. To Glyneth’s taste, the style verged upon the eccentric, though out here, overlooking this changeless plain, anyone’s taste would seem as sound as any one else’s, and Glyneth straightened in her seat, so as not to present a careless or untidy image to possible observation through the tall narrow windows.

As they passed by, a portal opened and out rode a knight in full armour of glossy black and brown metal. From his helm rose a high crest, beautifully wrought, of rods, disks and barbed prongs. The knight rode a creature somewhat like a black splay-legged tiger with a row of sharp horns down its forehead, and carried a tall lance from which fluttered a purple banner, engaged with an emblem of dark red, silver and blue.

The knight halted at a distance of a hundred feet, and Kul politely brought the wole to a halt. The knight called out:

“Who are you, that crosses the breadth of my domain, with neither let nor leave?”

Glyneth called out: “We are strangers to this place, Sir Knight, and no one informed us of your rule. This being the case, will you kindly grant us leave to pass on our way?”

“That is well and softly spoken,” declared the knight. “I would be tempted to clemency, did I not fear that others, less courteous than yourself, might be emboldened to take liberties.”

Glyneth declared: “Sir, our lips are sealed as if with bars of iron! Never will your forbearance be bruited abroad, and our reports will extol only the splendor of your carriage and the gallantry of your conduct. With our best regards to you and your dear ones, we will now hastily withdraw from your presence.”

“Not so fast! Have I not spoken? You are in detention. Dismount and proceed to Lorn House!”

Kul rose to his feet and shouted: “Fool! Return to your manse while life remains to you!”

The knight lowered his lance. Kul jumped down from the wole, to Glyneth’s distress. She cried out: “Kul, get back up here! We will run away, and he may chase us if he wishes!”

“His steed is too fast,” said Visbhume. “Give me the tube you took from me and I will blow a fire-mite at him. No! Better! In my wallet is a trifle of mirror; give that to me.”

Glyneth found the mirror and gave it to Visbhume. The knight aimed his lance at Kul; the triple-horned black tiger sprang forward. Visbhume made a sweeping motion with his hand; the mirror expanded to reflect the knight and his steed. Visbhume snapped away the mirror; the knight and his reflected image clashed together; both lances shivered and both knights were pitched to the ground where they drew swords and hacked at each other, while the tiger-mounts rolled and tumbled in a snarling screaming ball.

Kul jumped aboard the wole; it lumbered away to the east, with the combat still raging behind.

Glyneth went to Visbhume. “That was good work and it will earn you consideration when the final accounting is made. Give me back the mirror.”

“Better, far better that it remains with me,” said Visbhume smoothly. “In emergencies I will therefore be swift to act.”

Glyneth asked pointedly: “Do you recall Kul’s admonition? He was anxious to fight the knight; you denied him his exercise and now he may be short-tempered.”

“Aaagh, the monstrous brute!” growled Visbhume under his breath, and with unwilling fingers relinquished the mirror.

Time passed; leagues were thrust astern. Glyneth tried to puzzle through the computations in Twitten’s almanac, but met no success. Visbhume refused to teach her, declaring that first she must learn two arcane languages and an exotic system of mathematics, each with its particular mode of graphic representation. Glyneth also found a chart, which Visbhume gracelessly interpreted for her. “Here is the Lakkady Hills, the River Mys and the hut; this is the great Tang-Tang Steppe, inhabited only by a few rogue knights and bands of nomad beasts. This is where we now travel.”

“And this town here, by the river: is it Asphrodiske?”

Visbhume squinted at the chart. “That seems to be the town Pude, by the River Haroo. Asphrodiske is here, beyond these woods and the Steppe of Sore Beggars.”

Glyneth looked dubiously at the black moon, which had moved a considerable distance around the horizon. “It is yet a long way. Have we time?”