4.

 

 

 

WHILE AILLAS EXPOUNDED HIS IMPLAUSIBLE SCHEMES to King Casmir, Dhrun and Madouc went out upon the front terrace and stood leaning against the balustrade. Below them was the quadrangle known as the ‘King’s Parade’ and, beyond, all of Lyonesse Town. Today, despite Lady Vosse’s disapproval, Madouc wore her ordinary garments: a knee-length frock of oatmeal-colored nubble-cloth, belted at the waist. A band of plaited blue cord bound her curls, with a tassel dangling beside her left ear; she wore sandals on her bare feet.

Dhrun found the tassel intriguing and was moved to comment: “You wear that tassel with remarkable flair.”

Madouc pretended indifference and made a flippant gesture. “It is nothing much: a caprice, no more.”

“It is a distinctly jaunty caprice, with more than a hint of fairy panache. Your mother Twisk might well wear that tassel with pride.”

Madouc gave her head a doubtful shake. “When I saw her she wore neither tassels nor ties, and her hair floated like a blue fog.” Madouc considered a moment. “Of course, I am not well acquainted with fairy fashions. There is not much fairy stuff left in me.”

Dhrun inspected her from head to toe. “I would not be too sure on that account.”

Madouc shrugged. “Remember: I never lived among the fairies; I have eaten no fairy bread, nor drunk fairy wine. The fairy stuff—”

“It is called ‘soma’. It is true that the ‘soma’ drains away, leaving only human dross behind.”

Madouc looked reflectively out over the town. “All taken with all, I do not like to think of myself as ‘human dross’.”

“Of course not! Never would I consider you such!”

“I am pleased to hear your good opinion,” said Madouc modestly.

“You knew it before,” said Dhrun. “Also, if I may say so, I am relieved to see you in good spirits. Last night you were almost morose. I wondered if you were bored with the company.”

“Was my mood so apparent?”

“You seemed, at the very least, subdued.”

“Still, I was not bored.”

“Why were you unhappy?”

Once again Madouc looked out over the vista. “Must I explain the truth?”

“I will take my chances,” said Dhrun. “I can only hope that your remarks are not too corrosive. Tell me the truth.”

“I am the one who takes chances,” said Madouc. “But I am reckless and I know no better. The truth is this: I was so pleased to see you that I became sick and miserable.”

“Remarkable!” said Dhrun. “And when I leave, sorrow will cause you to sing and dance for sheer merriment.”

Madouc said dolefully: “You are laughing at me.”

“No. Not really.”

“Then why are you smiling?”

“I think there is more fairy stuff in you than you suspect.”

Madouc gave a thoughtful nod, as if Dhrun had addressed certain of her own suspicions. “You lived long at Thripsey Shee; you yourself should be charged with fairy stuff.”

“Sometimes I fear as much. A human child too long at the shee becomes addled and moonstruck. Thereafter he is good for nothing but to play wild music on the pipes. When he starts up a jig, the folk can never leave off dancing; they must hop and skip till their shoes wear out.”

Madouc gave Dhrun a wondering examination. “You do not seem moonstruck to me—though I am no proper judge. By chance, do you play the pipes?”

Dhrun nodded. “For a time I piped tunes for a troupe of dancing cats. That was long ago. It would not be considered dignified now.”

“When you played, did people dance without restraint? If so, I would like you to play, as if by casual impulse, for the king and queen and Lady Vosse. Sir Mungo also might be helped by a few capers, and also Zerling the executioner.”

“I did not bring my pipes,” said Dhrun. “The fairy waft is draining away, and my temperament has become somewhat dull. Perhaps I am not moonstruck after all.”

“Do you often think of the shee?”

“Occasionally. But the memories are blurred, as if I were recalling a dream.”

“Do you remember my mother Twisk?”

“Not well; in fact, not at all. I remember King Throbius and Queen Bossum, and also an imp named Falael who was jealous of me. I remember festivals in the moonlight and sitting in the grass making flower chains.”

“Would you like to visit the shee again?”

Dhrun gave his head an emphatic shake. “They would think I had come for favors and play me a dozen wicked tricks.”

“The shee is not far away?”

“It is north of Little Saffield on Old Street. A lane leads to Tawn Timble and Glymwode and on into the forest, and so to Thripsey Shee on Madling Meadow.”

“It should not be too hard to find.”

Dhrun spoke in surprise: “Surely you are not planning to visit the shee yourself?”

Madouc gave an evasive response. “I have no immediate plans.”

“I would advise against any plans whatever, indefinite or otherwise. The roads are dangerous. The forest is strange. Fairies are not to be trusted.”

Madouc seemed unconcerned. “My mother would protect me from harm.”

“Do not be too sure! If she were cross and the day had gone badly, she might give you a badger’s face or a long blue nose, for no reason whatever.”

Madouc said positively: “My mother would never harm her own dear daughter!”

“Why would you want to go in the first place? They would not receive you nicely.”

“I care nothing for that. I want only to learn news of my father, and what might be his name and his estate, and where he now lives: perhaps at some fine castle overlooking the sea!”

“What does your mother say to this?”

“She pretends to remember nothing. I believe that she has not told me everything she knows.”

Dhrun was dubious. “Why should she hide the information? Unless your father was a scapegrace and a vagabond, of whom she is ashamed.”

“Hm,” said Madouc. “I had not thought of that. But it is hardly likely—or so I hope.”

From the castle came King Casmir and Aillas, both showing faces of conventional impassivity.

Aillas spoke to Dhrun: “The wind seems to be shifting toward the south, and we had best gain sea room before conditions worsen.”

“It is a pity we must go so soon,” said Dhrun.

“True! Still, that is the way of it. I have invited King Casmir, along with Queen Sollace and the princess, to spend a week with us at Watershade later this summer.”

“That would be a pleasant occasion!” said Dhrun. “Watershade would be at its best! I hope that Your Majesty will decide to visit us. It is not too irksome a trip!”

“It would be my great pleasure, if the press of affairs permits,” said King Casmir. “I see that the carriage awaits; I will make my farewells here and now.”

“That is quite in order,” said Aillas. “Goodbye, Madouc.” He kissed her cheek.

“Goodbye! I am sorry that you are going so soon!”

Dhrun bent to kiss Madouc’s cheek, and said, “Goodbye. We will see you again before long, perhaps at Watershade!”

“I hope so.”

Dhrun turned away and followed Aillas down the stone steps to the road, where the carriage awaited them.