VI. The Madness of Ywain

Huddled in her long winter robe, her fingers numb, Luneta rode gratefully up to the gaily colored encampment around the Oxford tournament fields. Guiding her horse through the outer ring of tents, she found herself at once in a busy crowd of brightly dressed courtiers and ladies. Normally she would have been enthralled by the sumptuous furs and fashions that surrounded her, but this day she hardly noticed. "Excuse me," she said to a passing lady-in-waiting, "is the tournament over yet?"

"Oh, no," the lady replied. "The final joust for the prize won't be until tomorrow afternoon."

Luneta sighed with relief. She had ridden nearly eighteen hours straight, trying to get to this tournament before it ended. "And, forgive me, my lady, but do you by any chance know of a knight by the name of Ywain?"

The lady gaped at her with incredulity, then shrieked with laughter. "Zounds, girl! Wherever have you been for the past few months? Everyone knows Sir Ywain! He's the greatest knight in England!"

"Is he?" Luneta asked, without much interest. "And is he here?"

"Of course he's here," the lady said. "I told you. He's the greatest knight in England. He'll be competing for the prize tomorrow—and winning it, too!"

"Thank you so much," Luneta said, with determined politeness. "And, if I might trespass on your good nature one more time, do you think that you could take me to Ywain?"

The woman shrieked again, as if Luneta had said something uproariously funny. "I wish I could get a private visit with Sir Ywain! But I certainly wouldn't bring you along! He's so handsome!" she added dreamily.

"I'm sure that he'll see me," Luneta said.

"Child," the lady said, shaking her head. "The most beautiful women in the court wait outside his tent every morning, just hoping to catch a glimpse of him, and if he didn't have five guards who went everywhere with him, they'd be crawling into the tent as well."

"But I'm his cousin," Luneta explained.

"Dear child, if that would work, we would all be his cousins," the lady replied. "Why don't you find a nice boy closer to your own age?" With that, the lady walked away, still chuckling.

"She's telling the truth, you know," said a familiar voice behind Luneta. She whirled around in her saddle and stared with a mixture of delight and indignation at Rhience the Fool. "No one can get in to see his famousness. I've been trying for nearly a month now."

"Where have you been?" Luneta demanded, indignation winning the struggle for a time. "Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?"

"I thought you'd figure that out yourself," Rhience replied.

"Was it something that I said?"

"More like something I said," Rhience answered. "Malvolus told me that if I didn't leave at once he would have his soldiers kill me." He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "You see, in retrospect, I suspect I shouldn't have told him about my oath not to raise arms against any man." Luneta understood, and her indignation faded. She should have known. Rhience said, "But you aren't here looking for me, are you?"

"No," she said.

"Ywain missed his wedding date. How did Lady Laudine take it?"

"Badly," Luneta said. She slid from the saddle and shook her head at the memory.

"And now she's sent you to fetch him back?" Rhience asked.

"Not exactly," Luneta admitted. "She sent me to tell him that he needn't bother returning."

Rhience raised one eyebrow. "A perfectly understandable response, but somehow it doesn't sound like Lady Laudine. Has the lap dog learned to bark?"

Luneta shook her head. "No. I've no doubt that Malvolus told her what to say. I know for a fact that he told her to send me with the message."

"I see," Rhience said softly.

"It's Malvolus who rules the castle now. I suppose he always did, behind the scenes, but now it's out in the open. He's the one who kept track of Ywain's six months, and when Ywain didn't show, he convinced Laudine that Ywain had never loved her but was only after Sir Esclados's castle. He said it was all a plot hatched by Ywain and his wicked ally."

"You?"

Luneta sighed. "Who else? What else was Laudine to believe? It all fits together. First Ywain kills Sir Esclados, then I persuade her to marry him, and finally it turns out that we're cousins. I think at heart she knows I wouldn't do her harm—we've grown a little closer the past few months—but she's not strong enough to contradict Malvolus."

"And so you were sent to deliver Laudine's rejection to Ywain," Rhience said. "To punish both of you at once."

Luneta nodded. "I think, though, if I can just persuade him to come back, I might be able to talk Laudine into—"

"Haven't you done enough persuading?" Rhience asked with a hard edge in his voice. "Why don't you leave it be, Luneta? It wasn't your fault that Ywain broke his promise, you know. Let him face the results himself."

"Let his life be ruined because he forgot a date?" Luneta asked. "Anyone can forget a date. I forgot it myself. So did Laudine. She doesn't even have a calendar and would never have known that the time had passed if Malvolus hadn't told her. If you're so good with dates, why didn't you remind Ywain?"

"I told you, I've been trying," Rhience said. "I've been hanging about for weeks now, but you can get an audience with the king more easily than with your precious cousin these days. Except in the tournament arenas, I've barely been able to catch a glimpse of him, he's been so surrounded by guards and fainting women."

"Fainting women?" Luneta repeated. Then, a bit fearfully, she asked, "He hasn't ... he hasn't found another—"

"Another love? No, as far as I can tell from the gossip, he's been faithful to Lady Laudine. But that only makes it worse. He's called 'The Unattainable Knight' or some such rot. It gives him an air of mystery, and every lady in the land imagines how famous she would be if only she could be the lady who finally wins his heart. He's had to hire some men to keep all his admirers at bay."

"Then how am I to ... but I have to speak to him! I've been riding almost without a rest for two days."

"How did you know to look for him here, by the way?" Rhience asked.

"I just asked around until I heard of a tournament," she said. "Isn't there any way to get to him? Could Gawain get me in?"

"Sir Gawain's not here. Nor is King Arthur, if that's your next thought. I gather they don't go to many tournaments themselves."

"Well, I have to get to him somehow," Luneta said.

"You can try, but you won't succeed," Rhience said.

By noon the next day, Luneta was nearly ready to admit that Rhience was right. She spent all that morning pushing through the crowds that encircled Ywain's tent, tramping in puddles of old snow and being pushed about by the flocks of women (and quite a few men) who gathered wherever Ywain went. She succeeded once in getting to the front of the throng and even handing a note to one of Ywain's guards, but a moment later she saw her note, crumpled into a ball, tossed into a dirty snowbank. Not once did she even glimpse her cousin.

"No wonder he lost track of the days," she moaned to Rhience over a meager luncheon. "With all those ladies and courtiers screaming his name all day and night, he probably hasn't slept in months. By the way, why do you suppose those men are out there with the ladies?"

Rhience looked uncomfortable, but after a moment he replied. "Well, there are some who have suggested that there's a private reason that Ywain has never shown any interest in the ladies," he said.

"Oh."

"I believe it was your uncle Agrivain who first proposed this theory," Rhience added. "I hesitate to speak ill of your family, lass, but—"

"What a toad he is," Luneta said, but she was too tired even to work up a good anger at Agrivain. "Isn't there any time when Ywain is alone?"

"Only when he's jousting," Rhience said. "And I'm not sure you can call that alone, since there's a crowd watching."

Luneta looked up, then lowered her eyes quickly so that Rhience wouldn't see that her interest had been caught. "Then there's nothing to be done," she said, with studied despondency. "When is the final joust for the tournament anyway? This afternoon, isn't it?"

"Yes," Rhience said. "You want to watch?"

Luneta shrugged and said, "I suppose."

The final event of the weeklong tournament was to take place at midafternoon, but Rhience and Luneta went as soon as they had eaten. Though it was still hours early, they were lucky to find a place in the rough wooden benches behind the palisade that ringed the jousting area. Luneta scanned the arena closely and soon found what she was looking for: a small gate in the fence, by which the servants who cleaned up after the horses went in and out. Having found this entrance and marked how to get there, Luneta sat demurely beside Rhience, talking with him about all the places he had visited over the past six months.

The crowd grew more dense around them as the time for the final joust approached. It became much harder to move and see, but in one important respect the crowd was a good thing: it made it easy for her to slip away from Rhience. A few minutes before the joust was to take place, she ducked into the press and began moving toward the gate.

She almost didn't make it. She was still ten yards from the entrance when she heard a roar from the crowd, the pounding of horses' hooves, and the clang of lances on shields. Fortunately for Luneta, though, neither Ywain nor his opponent was unhorsed, and by the time they had drawn back for a second pass, she had reached the door and stepped into the arena. The first thing she saw was Ywain, still using the same armor (though it was polished to an astonishing degree) and riding the same horse she had come to know on the journey from Scotland months before. The knights were just beginning their second pass, so she moved quickly. Picking up her skirts, she ran to the middle of the field, right into Ywain's path. She heard shouting and glimpsed figures leaping over the fence and coming after her, but she was able to intercept Ywain and halt his charge. His horse reared abruptly, and Ywain shouted, "Get back, girl! You'll be hurt!"

"Ywain!" she called back. "It's me! Luneta!" But Ywain was busy calming his mount and didn't hear. Hands grasped her arms and started pulling her away, and Luneta screamed, "I've come from Laudine!"

Ywain had already started moving again, head down and lance leveled, but when Luneta called Laudine's name, he jerked his head around sharply and pulled up. His opponent hit him square in the chest, and Ywain flew from the saddle and landed in a shiny heap in the dirt. The crowd roared with angry disapproval, and wrenching herself free from the hands that held her, Luneta ran to his fallen figure.

Ywain was already climbing to his feet, unhurt but indignant. Jerking his helm from his head, he glared furiously at Luneta. "You made me lose the tournament!" he shouted.

Luneta met his anger with a boiling anger of her own, too long suppressed. "You've lost more than that, you stupid gapeseed! You've lost Laudine!"

"Laudine?" Ywain repeated, his furious expression fading to a haughty indignation. "What do you mean? Why, you're Luneta! What are you saying? Lost Laudine? Do you mean that she's been unfaithful? I will never believe that she could—"

"Shut up, blitherwit!" Luneta snapped. "No, she hasn't been unfaithful. If anyone's been unfaithful, it's you!

"No!" Ywain cried. "Never!"

"Don't you have any idea what month it is? You stupid, foolish peacock—strutting around in your shiny armor! 'The Unattainable Knight'! You promised Laudine you'd be back within six months, promised it as a pledge of your love!"

Ywain's mouth dropped open, and the color drained from his face.

"That was six months and one week ago, Ywain. Six months and one week."

"Laudine," Ywain whispered.

Luneta's own fury faded, and all she felt was a horrible sadness. In a quieter voice, she said, "I've been sent to tell you that you needn't come back now."

Ywain fell to his knees, his chin on his chest. Then he raised blank eyes to the heavens and emitted a long, fierce, wrenching howl of despair that echoed eerily over the tournament field, then died away. He sounded like a wounded animal, and Luneta took an involuntary step back. Ywain leaped to his feet, screamed once more, and ran wildly from the field. Then he was gone, and Luneta was alone under the gaze of hundreds of amazed eyes.

"While I have your attention," came a voice from her side, calling loudly to the crowd, "would you like to see me juggle?" It was Rhience. "No? Well, then, we'll just be off." Taking her arm, Rhience led her briskly away.

Ywain's armor was found at the edge of a nearby forest, his sword driven deeply into the trunk of a tree, but no one could locate Ywain himself. A few search parties went out looking for him, led by Sir Lamorak, the knight who had defeated Ywain in the tournament and won the prize, but there was no sign of him. Luneta found herself very popular immediately after the tournament, as everyone was agog to know what she had said to Sir Ywain to cause such a display, but when she refused to tell details, her fame swiftly became notoriety. Having no explanation for Ywain's shocking behavior, people began to make up their own stories, usually with Luneta in the role of the villain.

"The way I hear it," Rhience said on the fifth day after Ywain's disappearance, "you're in love with Ywain yourself, but he wouldn't look at you, so you found out who his secret ladylove is and murdered her. Not very clever of you, lass," he added disapprovingly. "I mean, having killed his true love, how could you possibly expect him to fall in love with you?"

Luneta nodded glumly. "That explains some of the looks I get when I go out."

Rhience dropped his bantering tone and asked, "Bad, is it?" Luneta nodded. "Do you know, Luneta," he said, "I've begun to wonder if I could escort you somewhere."

"Where?"

"Anywhere but here," Rhience replied.

Luneta nodded again. He was right. "I need to go back to Laudine as soon as I'm able," Luneta said. "I can't just leave her in Malvolus's power. But I'm also worried about Ywain. I've stayed this long only to see if the searchers find him."

"Then we can leave anytime," Rhience said. "No more search parties are going out. I heard Sir Lamorak say that it was useless."

"They're giving up?" Luneta exclaimed. Rhience nodded. "But he's out there somewhere with no horse or weapon or armor!" She scowled angrily at the ground for a moment, then looked up. "They all called him the greatest knight in England! He was their hero! What happened to the admirers of 'The Unattainable Knight'?"

"Ah, that," Rhience said. "Well, that's gone off a bit. You see, he was unhorsed, which always takes the shine off a knight. You can't deny that it looks rather silly. Then there was all that screaming business. Not very courtly at all. And finally, it turns out that Sir Lamorak—who defeated him—is also unattainable. He's told everyone that he, like Ywain, loves an absent beauty and can never look at another woman. So you see? From the court's perspective, they've just traded even up. Some of the ladies are already swooning when Lamorak walks by."

"Ladies can be so stupid," Luneta said.

"Your words, not mine," Rhience said.

"I've got to go find him," Luneta said. "It's partly"—she cast a look of warning at Rhience—"partly my fault that he's in this mess."

Rhience raised one eyebrow but kept his lips tightly closed.

Luneta met his gaze squarely. "Will you go with me?" she asked.

Rhience smiled. "Sure," he said. "I'll get our horses."

They started where all the other search parties had begun, at the edge of the forest where Ywain's armor had been found. It had been snowing earlier but now was just cold and dreary. Rhience looked into the trees. "Most of the searchers have gone right into the woods," he said. "The idea is that he took off his armor so as to climb more easily over tree trunks and so on. They haven't found anything, but that's hardly surprising. You could lose a village in this forest."

Luneta stared glumly into the shadows. Looking for one man's trail in those woods did seem futile. Ywain had been missing almost a week and could be in the next shire by now. She was about to say so and to suggest going home when a movement within the trees caught her eye. She squinted at the spot where she had seen the movement and made out a vaguely human shape—but it was much too small to be Ywain. She cocked her head and listened intently, the way that she had trained herself to listen at the fireplace at home. A soft voice said, "I don't suppose you can hear me, can you, Luneta?"

Luneta sat bolt upright in her saddle. The voice continued, "Good heavens, you can, can't you? Fascinating!"

Luneta's mouth dropped open, and she glanced involuntarily at Rhience, who was examining the trail. He clearly hadn't heard anything. The voice, really more like a whisper that sounded right in her left ear, spoke again. "Do you know, my dear, I'm acquainted with some full-grown elves who can't use their inner ears like that. Full-grown as elves go, of course. Most of us don't grow all that—"

"What's wrong, Luneta?" asked Rhience.

"Nothing," Luneta said, rubbing her left temple. "Something in my ear. Maybe a snowflake fell in it."

"It stopped snowing an hour ago," Rhience pointed out.

"But you aren't interested in elves, are you?" the voice in Luneta's ear said. "You're looking for your witless cousin. And let me assure you, I don't mean 'witless' as an insult. The fellow's really lost his wits."

Luneta stared at the woods, but the small figure she had first seen had disappeared. Only the voice continued. "If you want to find Ywain, you need to go south a bit, just past a frozen stream, and there you'll find a cow path. Follow that path to the east, except of course when it doesn't go directly east. Sometimes it goes more southeast, and once or twice it actually goes due south. When that happens, you'll want to stay on the path and not keep going east. Or maybe not directly on the path itself. Beside the path is just as good, and considering some of the things that are in the path itself, maybe beside the path is better. You know, I've never understood cows, the way they don't even step aside out of the path when they have to unload. Do you understand what I mean by 'unload'? I don't want to be indelicate."

"I know what you mean," Luneta said.

Rhience said, "I didn't say anything."

The voice in Luneta's ear broke into a merry giggle. "Got you!" it said.

Luneta reddened and said to Rhience, "I'm sorry. I was thinking of something else."

"Were you thinking about calling this off?" Rhience asked. "Because if you were, I agree. We have no hope of finding one man in that forest five days after he disappeared."

Luneta glanced once more at the woods. She licked her lips, hesitated a moment, then said, "Let's try going south."

"South?"

Luneta nodded. "Er, which direction is that?" she asked.

Rhience blinked, then pointed to their right, across a meadow. "That's south. Why that way?"

"Because ... no one else has looked in that direction?" Luneta said hopefully.

Rhience raised one eyebrow and said, "Do you know something I don't?" just as the voice in her ear said, "You sound like an absolute clodpate, Luneta!"

"I don't either," Luneta snapped.

Rhience threw up his hands in mock surrender. "All right, so you don't."

The voice began giggling again and Luneta said hurriedly, "I didn't mean you, Rhience." Rhience only stared at her, so she said, "Here, let's go south for a while and see if we find a cow path or something that Ywain might have followed."

Rhience continued to look at Luneta curiously, but he turned his horse and headed across the meadow. A few minutes later, when they crossed the frozen stream and came to a clear cattle trail, he looked at her even more curiously. "Which way now?" he asked.

"East along the path," Luneta said.

"Whatever you and your snowflake say," Rhience replied, turning his horse left and following the path.

The voice laughed. "What a clever fellow! But Brother Matthew was always clever. It was one reason he didn't fit in at the monastery. He's already figured out that you have a friend."

"Are you my friend?" Luneta whispered under her breath. "Who are you?"

"Didn't you hear Brother Matthew? Call me Snowflake." Then the voice disappeared in an explosion of mirth.

They followed the cattle trail for two hours, and when that trail ended, Snowflake directed Luneta around a field of bracken to a small stream and told them to follow that stream. Rhience asked Luneta no questions but turned wherever she said to turn. At last, when the sun began to set, Rhience pulled up and said, "Here's a good place to camp. Are we almost there, or should we stop for the night?"

"How should I know?" Luneta demanded.

"Ask, why don't you?"

Luneta felt herself turning red, but she said, "Well?"

"You'd best camp," Snowflake replied in her ear. "You won't come up on Ywain for a day or two yet."

Luneta looked up to Rhience's patient gaze. "Er, I think ... he says we should camp."

Rhience nodded and dismounted. For the next half-hour they were both occupied in rubbing down their horses, building a fire, and opening the packs of dried food that Rhience had brought with them, but when at last they were seated by their fire, eating, Rhience said, "You want to explain this to me?"

Luneta nodded, but she felt very self-conscious as she said, "It's a voice, right in my ear. Do you think I'm mad?"

"I've thought so for months," Rhience replied. "But hearing a voice isn't necessarily a sign of it. What does your voice tell you?"

"He says that we won't come up on Ywain for another day or two."

"Does your voice have a name?"

Luneta reddened again and, in a small voice, said, "He says to call him Snowflake."

Rhience began to laugh. "Ah, a spirit with a sense of humor. My favorite sort."

When Rhience said "spirit," Luneta looked up sharply. "It is a spirit, isn't it? Do you think it's leading us to our death or something?"

Rhience cocked his head and thought for a moment. "I shouldn't think so. I've a notion that evil spirits would take themselves too seriously to call themselves Snowflake. Can you imagine it? Satan and his demons gathered in council—Marduk, Mephisto, and the wicked Snowflake?"

Luneta began to laugh. "True. And I must say that Snowflake doesn't sound evil."

Snowflake's voice said, "I thank you, my dear. And please tell Brother Matthew that his insight into the spirits is quite accurate."

"Who's Brother Matthew?" Luneta asked.

Rhience stared at Luneta. "Where did you hear that name?"

Luneta tapped her ear. "Snowflake says to tell Brother Matthew that his insight into the spirits is accurate. Is it you?"

Rhience nodded, grinning. "I think I told you once that at one time I was planning to enter a religious life." Luneta nodded. "It was a bit more extreme than that. I was a novice at a monastery, nearly accepted into the cloister. While there, I took the name Matthew. It seemed more religious to me."

"As you did when you were a knight. Sir Calo-something, wasn't it?"

"Calogrenant," Rhience said. "Yes. Just like that."

"What happened at the monastery?"

"I was quite a success there," Rhience said, leaning back against a boulder and giving Luneta a lopsided smile. "I'm good at numbers and figures, and I know something of land management. Before I left to join the church, I was practically running the family estates. I think Father Abbot was grooming me to be overseer of the monastery lands."

"Would you have liked that?" Luneta asked, a little surprised.

"I think so," Rhience said. "The problem was that I wasn't as suited for the rest of monastic life. Not serious enough, you see. They were forever trying to heal me of my levity. Once my preceptor caught me telling faery stories to some of the orphans. He took me by the ear off to the scriptorium, where he made me read an improving book about some old fellow named Simeon Stylite. This chap ate only once a week, slept only a couple of hours a night, and to top it off lived the last half of his life up on top of a tower, all to prove his devotion."

"This was supposed to cure you of laughing too much?"

Rhience grinned. "Yes. And it just made me laugh, which got me two days of solitude. When I got out, I packed and left."

"So then you changed your name to Sir Calogrenant and became a knight."

"And now I've taken back my real name and become who I really am."

"A fool?" Luneta asked.

"Just so," Rhience said. He unrolled his blankets and stretched out on them. "Tell Snowflake good night for me."

They rode off before sunrise the next morning, still following Snowflake's whispered directions. It was growing late when they came to the first human they had encountered since leaving Oxford: a thick-waisted shepherdess with rosy cheeks and freckles. She was sitting on a fallen tree surrounded by her flock, but she was paying the sheep no attention, and although the winter wind was cold, she was fanning herself and making odd clucking noises. Rhience glanced quizzically at Luneta, then rode close to the shepherdess, who jumped to her feet. "Oh, lawks!" she said.

"Lawks, indeed," Rhience replied politely, inclining his head. "Truly you say so."

The girl blinked and asked, "Say what?"

"Lawks. A truer word has never been spoken."

"Lawks?" she asked.

"Lawks," Rhience repeated gravely.

"Shut up, Rhience," Luneta said. "Don't mind him. He's a fool."

The shepherdess looked at Luneta, eyeing her fine gown with admiration, then dropped a rough curtsy. "Indeed, your ladyship. I beg your pardon for being forward, and for not speaking respectful to ye when ye come up, as my mother would be shocked to hear of me not doing. But I have had such a shock!"

"Lawks," said Rhience.

"What gave you such a shock?" Luneta asked, ignoring him.

"That man! Did ye see him?"

"We saw no one," Luneta said. "Did a man threaten you?"

"Nay, your ladyship. He no more than took one look at me and he run off, which isn't hardly a surprise, considering."

"Considering what?" Luneta asked.

"Well..."The girl glanced nervously at Rhience. "I hardly like to say, miss."

"You can trust us," Luneta said.

The girl leaned forward. "It's that he weren't ... didn't have ... well, it was all just right there!"

"All what?" asked Luneta.

The girl clamped her lips shut. "That, your ladyship, I won't say for no persuading."

Luneta glanced helplessly at Rhience, but the fool only grinned. "Do you mean that this man was naked?" he asked the girl. Her face brightened to a shiny cherry color, but she nodded expressively.

"It must be him," Luneta said. "Snowflake said that he'd lost his wits." She turned to the girl. "Did you see which direction he went?"

"Yes, ma'am," the girl said. She pointed at a thick clump of bushes at the edge of a wooded area. "He saw me and just jumped up, turned around, and run off that way. He went right through those gorse bushes."

"Ouch," said Rhience.

"Just there by that big oak!" she said, pointing. "I'll never forget it! The last thing I saw as he jumped into the shrubbery was ... was..."

"His lawks," Rhience supplied.

Luneta struggled to keep her countenance, thanked the shepherdess for her help, and led the way to the wooded area. "He must be frozen," she said.

"Not to mention scratched," Rhience said. "Shocking!"

"Well, and so it was to that poor girl!" Luneta said. "It wasn't very nice of you to make fun of her, you know."

"Don't be silly. She's just had the time of her life and will bore her friends and family for many years to come, telling the story every chance she gets. Now, what do you think is back in those woods?"

They found out twenty minutes later when they rode into a clearing where a stocky man in a heavy fur robe was turning a whole haunch of venison on a spit over a cheerful fire. "Welcome, travelers!" he called. "Come and share my bounty!"

"We thank you, sir," Luneta replied, "but we must—"

"Just a minute, lass," Rhience said. "It's almost dark, and we won't be able to look much longer anyway. And perhaps this gentleman can help us." More loudly, Rhience said, "We thank you indeed, Father. 'Bounty' is the right word. That's a lovely piece of meat. The hermits of this country do well by themselves."

"God provides, my son," the old man replied, laughing. "But all I have is yours to share. How did you know I was a hermit? I didn't get around to putting on the old sackcloth this morning."

"A bit chilly for sackcloth, I would think. No, I noticed your beads on the bench by the door, and besides, who else would live in such a cottage alone like this?" Rhience dismounted and led his horse to the well while he talked.

"Who else indeed? But I must say, it's not such a bad life as I'd expected. I'm new here, you know. The last hermit in this hut died—some think of starvation."

"Indeed?" asked Rhience, casting another glance at the haunch of venison.

"But as I said, God provides."

"Do you hunt, sir?" Rhience inquired.

The hermit shook his head and beamed at them. "I'll tell you all about it while we eat, if you like."

At last able to fit a word in, Luneta said, "Before you begin, we need to ask you—"

"Let's listen to the good holy man first, Luneta," Rhience said. "I've a feeling we may learn all we want to know."

"I came here to keep a vow," the jovial man said over a delicious meal of perfectly roasted venison. "I didn't start out a hermit, as you might have guessed. I'm a butcher by trade, and to tell the truth, I haven't been a very good Christian, what with one thing and another. I don't mean I was dishonest—ask anyone and they'll tell you Godwulf the Butcher has the fairest scales anywheres about—but I do like my food and beer and I did go on the occasional spree, so that it most drives our priest up a tree when he thinks on my sins. Well, it pleased God to let me come down deathly ill last month so that I thought I was about to cock up my toes, and here comes Father Richard saying that I might be healed if I would just make a vow to obey him for three months. Like I said, I thought I was dead anyway, so I decided to give him a bit of pleasure before I died, and I took his vow. Then, what do you think happened? I got well!"

"How disappointing," Rhience said sympathetically.

"Well, it was! Not at first, of course; I mean, I didn't mind God healing me."

"That's big of you," Rhience said.

"But it was right downheartening to think I'd just given three months of my life to that priest. And I didn't know the half of it, either. As soon as I was well, Father Richard tells me that for my three months, he wanted me to live in this forest hermitage that's just come open and say prayers all day and eat only what God provided for me."

"I knew a preceptor in a monastery once who sounds a bit like your Father Richard," Rhience commented.

"Sour bloke, eh? But then what do you think happened? Three nights ago, on my first night here, I'm just sitting by the fire listening to my gut rumble, and out of the woods crawls this young man as naked as a skinned rabbit."

Luneta shot a quick glance at Rhience, who only nodded and said, "Indeed?"

"Well, I wasn't feeling so well myself, as I said, but at least I had some clothes, and so I thought to help him. I spoke to him, but he didn't seem to understand me. Mad, you know. I'm a big fellow and handy with my fists, so I wasn't rightly afraid of him, and I soft-talked him over by the fire and put a thick fur robe over his shoulders. He went to sleep right there, and the next morning I wake up and there's a brace of rabbits, fresh killed, lying on the doorstep."

"The madman gave them to you?"

"And a fine game hen the next morning, and a whole deer today. By now we've got it all worked out regular, even if we never say a word. Every night, sometime around midnight, he comes and drops off whatever he's killed during the day and curls up in this robe by the fire and eats whatever I've cooked and left for him. I never ate so well in my life! When Father Richard said I was to eat only what God provided, you could tell he didn't expect God to provide much, but I'll tell you this—God provides like the merry dickens! I may just decide to stay a hermit!"

By this time, Rhience was shaking with laughter, clearly enjoying their jovial host very much indeed. He talked with Godwulf in high good spirits for another hour while Luneta waited. At last the best-fed hermit in England went inside to sleep off his penance.

"It sounds as if all we have to do is wait here, and Ywain will come to us," Luneta said.

"True," Rhience replied. "But let me ask you this. What will you do with him once you find him?"

Luneta had already been wondering that. "I know," she said. "When we came after him, it was because I was afraid he was in danger."

"I suppose living naked in the forest in winter could be considered danger," Rhience said.

"True. It wouldn't be my choice, anyway. But he does have a place to get warm, and he seems to be able to get food."

"You think we should leave him here?" Rhience said.

Luneta shrugged. "Even if we could drag him away by force, which I doubt, where would we take him?" Rhience nodded thoughtfully. "I don't want to make any decisions now, though," Luneta said. "I need to see him first and try to talk with him."

Luneta never got that chance. An hour or so before midnight, as she stood in the shadows of the trees, watching the fire and waiting for Ywain, a now familiar voice spoke to her, not at her ear but from beside her. "Lady Luneta," it said.

Luneta looked down to see a little bearded man with leafy hair and an impish grin. "Snowfiake?" she said.

"It's as good as most of my names," the little elf replied. "I've come to fetch you."