Lyonesse II - The Green Pear and Madouc (99 page)

As Madouc listened to the decree, her mouth had dropped open in wonder. Finally, in a choked voice, she asked: "Is this the crafty scheme, that I am to be chained to an iron post, and there subjected to unspeakable acts?"

King Throbius explained the details of his scheme in a patient if somewhat heavy voice: "It is our theory that the three persons who liberated Twisk will wish to assist you in the same fashion. When they approach intent on their good offices, you need only touch them with the pebble to bring them under your control."

Madouc discovered a flaw in the plan. "Have you not noticed? I lack the attributes of my mother Twisk! Will any of the three be inclined even to approach the post? I see them coming in haste, taking note of me, stopping short, turning and running back the way they had come, careless if I were to be liberated or not."

"The point is well taken," said King Throbius. "I will cast a glamour upon you, so that folk will be enthralled, and mistake you for a creature of allure."

"Hmmf," said Madouc. "I suppose that will have to be the way of it."

"The scheme is sound," said Twisk.

Madouc was still not totally convinced. "Might not our plans go awry in some unexpected way? Suppose the pebble lost its force, so that, willy-nilly, I was liberated even though I needed no such help?"

"It is a chance we must take," said King Throbius. He stepped forward, fluttered his fingers over Madouc's head, muttered a cantrap of nineteen syllables, touched her chin, then stood back. "The glamour is cast. To work its effect, pull at your left ear with the fingers of your right hand. To suspend the glamour, pull at your right ear with the fingers of your left hand."

Madouc asked with interest: "Shall I try it now?"

"As you like! You will notice the change only as it affects others; you yourself will not be altered."

"For a test, then, I will try the spell." Madouc tugged at her left ear with the fingers of her right hand, then turned to Sir Pom-Pom and Travante. "Can you notice a change?"

Sir Pom-Pom drew a deep breath and seemed to clench his teeth. "The change is definite."

Travante made a wild, if controlled, gesture. "I will describe the change. You are now a slender maiden, of perfect if not better conformation. Your eyes are as blue as the warm summer sea; they are melting and sympathetic, and look from a face tart and sweet, clever and wry, of a haunting fascination. Soft copper gold curls swing past this face; the hair is scented with the perfume of lemon blossoms. Your form is enough to make a strong man weak. The glamour is effective."

Madouc pulled at her right ear with the fingers of her left " hand. "Am I myself again?"

"Yes," said Sir Pom-Pom regretfully. "You are as usual."

Madouc heaved a sigh of relief. "With the glamour upon me I feel somewhat conspicuous."

King Throbius smiled. "You must learn to ignore it, since, in your case, the glamour is no more than a reflection of the near future." He looked up into the sky and signalled. Down flew a small green faylet with gauzy wings. King Throbius gave instructions: "Gather your cousins, fly hither and yon, ensure that all creatures of the neighborhood, save only three-headed Throop, Fuluot, Carabara, and Gois, learn the news of the decree which Bosnip will recite to you. Three especially must hear: Sir Jaucinet of Castle Cloud, the peasant Nisby, and the faceless creature who saunters abroad by moonlight wearing a broad-brimmed black hat."

The faylet was gone. King Throbius gave Madouc a grave salute. "I trust that our little scheme fulfills its purpose, without mistakes or inconvenience. In due course-" A sudden tumult from across the meadow attracted his attention. He spoke in amazement. "Can it be? Shemus and Womin, both officials of high degree, are at odds!"

King Throbius marched off across the meadow, so swiftly that the implets who carried his train were jerked from their feet and swept through the air.

King Throbius went to where a long table had been set with a variety of fine comestibles: ichors and wines in quaint glass bottles; pastries flavored with milkweed cream and the pollen of daffodil, buttercup and crocus; tarts of currants both black and red; candied crab apples and jellies; the crystallized nectars of sweetbriar, rose and violet. Beside the table an altercation had suddenly been transformed into a confusion of shouts, blows and curses. The parties at contention were Womin, Registrar of Rightnesses, and Shemus, Conductor of Rituals. Shemus had seized Womin's beard with one hand and was beating him over the head with a wooden mug, from which he had been drinking parsnip ale.

King Throbius spoke sharply: "Why this sordid moil? It is shameful conduct on a day of such happiness!"

Shemus cried out in a passion: "I would agree in all respects, Your Highness, had I not suffered an abominable affront from this rat-fanged old scavenger!"

"What are the facts? Describe your complaint!"

"Gladly! This degenerate registrar thought to work a vulgar prank upon me! When I turned away for a moment, he dropped his foul stocking into my mug of parsnip ale."

King Throbius turned to Womin. "And what was your motive?"

"I had no motive!"

"None?"

"None! For this reason: I was not a party to the deed! The accusation is a canard! Yonder sits Falael, who witnessed the whole episode; he will attest to my innocence!"

King Throbius swung about. "Well then, Falael: let us hear your testimony."

"I was weaving a daisy chain," said Falael. "My attention was fixed upon my work; I saw nothing germane to the case."

"Nonetheless, I am guiltless," declared Womin. "In view of my reputation, only a person with pot cheese for brains could think otherwise."

"Not so!" stormed Shemus. "If you are innocent, why are you wearing a single stocking? Why does the stocking I found in my ale show the same puce color as that on your leg?"

"It is a mystery!" stated Womin. "Your Highness, hear me out! The party at fault is this ale-swilling old toad, who stands here fulminating like a mad thing! He struck me several stout blows, meanwhile drenching my stocking in his revolting tipple, into which he had undoubtedly snuffled and sniffed."

Shemus jumped up and down in fury. "That remark is a further provocation, worth at least two more blows!" Shemus would have chastised Womin further had not King Throbius stepped forward.

"Desist from this folly! Evidently a mistake has been made; let us carry the case no further!"

Womin and Shemus turned their backs on each other and peace was restored. King Throbius returned across the meadow. He spoke to Madouc. "I will bid you farewell, for the nonce. When you return with your three gentlemen-in-waiting, as we must call them, then we shall prove identities to your full satisfaction, and you will know your pedigree."

Sir Pom-Pom could no longer restrain his own urgencies. "Please, Your Highness! I too need instruction! How shall I find the Holy Grail?"

King Throbius looked in puzzlement to Twisk. "What might be the 'Holy Grail'?"

"I have heard mention of the object, Your Highness. Long ago Sir Pellinore spoke of such an article. I believe it to be a cup, or something of the sort."

"It is a chalice sacred to the Christians," said Sir Pom-Pom. "I am anxious to find it, that I may earn a royal boon."

King Throbius pulled at his beard. "I know nothing of such an object; you must seek elsewhere for information."

Travante also made bold to put a request: "Perhaps Your Highness will instruct me as to where I might search for my lost youth."

King Throbius again pulled at his beard. "Was it mislaid or truly lost? Do you remember any of the pertinent circumstances?"

"Unfortunately not, Your Highness. I had it; I lost it; it was gone."

King Throbius gave his head a dubious shake. "After such long neglect, it might be almost anywhere. As you travel the roads, you must keep on the alert. I can tell you this: if you find it, be nimble indeed!" King Throbius reached high into the air and brought down a silver hoop two feet in diameter. "If you find what you seek, capture it with this hoop. It was once the property of the nymph Atalanta, and is in itself a great curiosity."

"I thank Your Highness." Travante placed the hoop carefully over his shoulder.

King Throbius and Queen Bossum gave stately bows of farewell and strolled away across the meadow. Even as they went a new commotion broke out near the long table, again involving Womin. The activity consisted of screams, outcries and angry gesticulations. It appeared that someone, both cunning and deft, had purloined Womin's single remaining stocking and had affixed it to the crest of the chatelaine Batinka's elaborate coiffure, where it created a ridiculous and humiliating spectacle. Batinka, upon discovering the prank, had chided Womin and had tweaked his nose. The usually mild-mannered Womin, after taking Falael's quiet advice, had retaliated by pushing Batinka's face into a pudding. At this point King Throbius intervened. Batinka cited Womin's misdeeds which Womin denied, save for his use of the pudding. Once again he asserted that Falael could bear witness as to his blamelessness. King Throbius, as before, turned to Falael for the facts, but Falael, as before, claimed to have been preoccupied with his daisy chain, to the exclusion of all else.

King Throbius considered the case for a moment or two, then turned to Falael: "Where is the daisy chain upon which you have been so diligently employed?"

Falael was taken aback by the unexpected request. He looked here and there and at last cried out: "Aha! Here it is!"

"Indeed. You are certain?"

"Of course!"

"And you worked throughout the period of both episodes involving Womin, without so much as raising your eyes-so you have attested."

"Then it must be so, since I am a stickler for accurate detail."

"I count nine flowers to this chain. They are marigolds, not daisies. What do you say to that?"

Falael shifted his gaze here and there. "I was paying no great heed, Your Highness."

"Falael, the evidence suggests that you have been paltering with the truth, giving false testimony, performing mischievous pranks and attempting to deceive your king."

"It is surely a mistake, Your Highness!" said Falael, his expression brimming with limpid innocence.

King Throbius was not deceived. In a grave voice, and despite Falael's reedy expostulations, he imposed a penalty of another seven years' itch. Falael dolefully went to sit on his post, and once more began to scratch his affected parts.

King Throbius called out: "Let the festival proceed, though now we must consider it a celebration of hope rather than accomplishment!"

Meanwhile Twisk had bidden Madouc and her company farewell. "It has been a pleasure to have seen you again! Perhaps some day at another time-"

"But good mother Twisk!" cried Madouc. "Have you for gotten? I shall soon return to Thripsey Shee!"

"True," sighed Twisk, "presuming that you avoid the dangers of the forest."

"Are these then so terrible?"

"Sometimes the forest is sweet and clear," said Twisk. "Sometimes evil lurks behind every stump. Do not explore the morass which borders on Wamble Way; the long-necked heceptors will rise from the slime. In the gully nearby lives the troll Mangeon; avoid him as well. Do not fare west along Munkins Road; you would come to Castle Doldil, the seat of three-headed Throop the ogre. He has caged many a brave knight and devoured many more, perhaps including gallant Sir Pellinore."

"And where shall we sleep by night?"

"Accept no hospitality! It will cost you dear! Take this kerchief." Twisk gave Madouc a square of pink and white silk. "At sundown place it upon the turf and call out 'Aroisus!' It will become a pavilion for both safety and comfort. In the morning, call out: 'Deplectus!' and the pavilion will again become a kerchief. And now-"

"Wait! Where is the way to Idilra Post?"

"You must cross the meadow and pass under the tall ash tree. As you go, pay no heed to the festival! Taste no wine; eat no fairy-cake; tap not so much as your toe to fairy music! Beside the ash tree Wamble Way leads to the north; after twelve miles, you will come to the crossing with Munkins Road, and here stands Idilra Post, where I suffered my many trials."

Madouc spoke soothingly: "It was, on the whole, a lucky occasion, since, as a consequence, I am here to gladden your heart!"

Twisk could not restrain a smile. "At times you can be quite appealing, with your sad blue eyes and strange little face! Good bye then, and take care!"

Madouc, Sir Pom-Pom and Travante crossed Madling Meadow to the ash tree and set out to the north along Wamble Way. When the sun sank low, Madouc placed the kerchief upon the turf of a little glade beside the way and called out: "Aroisus!" At once the kerchief became a pavilion furnished with three soft beds and a table loaded with good food and flasks of wine and bitter ale.

During the night peculiar sounds could be heard from the forest, and on several occasions there was the pad of heavy foot steps along Wamble Way. On each occasion, the creature halted as it paused to inspect the pavilion, and then, after consideration, continued along the way and about its business.

Morning sunlight slanted through the forest to lay bright red spatters on the pink and white silk of the pavilion. Madouc, Sir Pom-Pom and Travante arose from their beds. Outside the pavilion dew glistened on the turf; the forest was silent save for an occasional bird-call.

The three breakfasted at the bountiful table, then prepared to depart. Madouc called out "Deplectus!" and the pavilion collapsed to a pink and white kerchief, which Madouc tucked into her wallet.

The three set off up Warnble Way, with both Sir Pom-Pom and Travante keeping a careful lookout for the objects of their quest, as King Throbius had advised.

The lane skirted a tract of quaking black mud, intersected by rills of dark water. Tussocks of reed, burdock and saw grass beds broke the surface, as well as an occasional clump of stunted bitter willow or rotting alder. Bubbles rose up through the slime, and from one of the larger tussocks came a croaking voice, of unintelligible import. The three wayfarers only hastened their steps, and without untoward incident left the morass behind.