MADOUC

by Jack Vance

  In a cross voice Madouc called out: "What are you gaping at, Sir Pom-Pom? Have you never seen a naked girl before?"

  "Never a naked princess," said Sir Pom-Pom with a grin.

  "That is sheer nonsense," said Madouc in disgust. "We are much alike, all of us. There is truly nothing noteworthy to see."

  "Still, I prefer it to looking at the back end of Juno."

  "Stare as you like," said Madouc. "I cannot be bothered with your foolishness."

  "It is not total foolishness, as you put it," said Sir Pom-Pom. "I have a sound and practical reason for making a close inspection."

  "What is that?"

  "Should I return with the Holy Grail, my boon might entitle me to wed the royal princess. Therefore I thought it sensible to discover just what advantages such a choice might entail. For a fact, I see nothing which arouses any great enthusiasm."

  Madouc struggled for words. At last she said: "Since you seem to be idle, I suggest that you strike up a fire and boil us a soup for our noon meal."

  Sir Pom-Pom drew his face back through the foliage. Madouc stepped from the water, dressed and returned to the road. As the two sat in the shade of a great elm tree, eating their soup, they observed the approach of three persons on foot: a short plump man, a woman of similar proportions and an urchin, undersized, pasty-gray of skin, seemingly all legs and head. As they drew close, Madouc recognized the three clowns who had performed at the Abatty Dell fair.

  The three approached and halted. "A very good day to you both," said the man, who had a round face, coarse black hair, a little bulb of a nose and bright protuberant black eyes.

  "I echo this sentiment," declared the woman, who like the man showed a round flexible face, black hair, round black eyes and a pink stub of a nose.

  "Good day to you as well," said Madouc.

  The man glanced into the pot where simmered the soup. "May we sit here in the shade and take a brief respite from our trudging?"

  "The shade is free," said Sir Pom-Pom. "Rest where you like."

  "Your words falls kindly on the ear!" said the woman gratefully. "The way is long and I go with difficulty, and sometimes pain, by reason of my ailment."

  The three settled cross-legged in the shade. "Allow me to make introductions," said the man. "I am Filemon, Master of Mirth. Here sits Dame Corcas, no less skilled in merry antics. And here, small but doughty, is our little Mikelaus. He is not altogether cheerful, and perhaps somewhat ill, since he has had no breakfast today. Am I right, poor Mikelaus, sad little tyke that you are?"

  "Arum. Boskatch. Gaspa confaga."

  Sir Pom-Pom blinked. "What did he say?"

  Filemon chuckled. "Mikelaus has an odd way of speaking, which is not clear to everyone."

  Dame Corcas explained, with delicate precision: "He inquired, quite clearly: ‘What is cooking in the pot?'

  "It is our meal," said Sir Pom-Pom. "I have boiled up a soup of ham, onions and beans."

  Mikelaus spoke again: "Vogenard. Fistilla."

  Filemon said reprovingly: "Impossible, Mikelaus! It is not our food, no matter how much you crave sustenance."

  Dame Corcas said: "Perhaps these kind folk might spare him just a taste, to keep the spirit of life awake in his poor little soul."

  Madouc said: "I suppose that is possible. Sir Pom-Pom, serve a portion of soup to the creature."

  Sir Pom-Pom glumly did as bidden. Dame Corcas reached to take the bowl. "I must make sure that it is not too hot; other wise Mikelaus will burn himself." She spooned up a portion of the soup, along with a goodly chunk of ham and tested it. "It is still far too hot for Mikelaus!"

  Filemon scoffed at her caution. "Probably not! Mikelaus has the gut of a salamander! Let me verify the temperature." He took the bowl and raised it to his lips. "That is excellent soup, but you are right; it is far too hot for Mikelaus."

  "There is little left in the bowl," said Sir Pom-Pom.

  Mikelaus said: "Gamkarch noop. Bosumelists."

  "You must not be greedy!" admonished Dame Corcas. "This young gentleman will surely make up more soup if there is not enough."

  Madouc, seeing the way the wind blew, heaved a sigh. "Very well, Sir Pom-Pom. Serve around the soup. I cannot eat with these hungry creatures watching my every mouthful."

  Sir Pom-Pom growled: "I made only enough for our needs."

  "No problem whatever!" declared Filemon with enthusiasm. "When good comrades meet along the road, they share each with each, and all rejoice in mutual amplitude! I notice yonder a fine butt of ham, onions, bread, cheese, and unless my eyes deceive me, a bottle of wine! We shall have a true banquet, here along the road, to which each shall give of his best! Corcas, you must make yourself useful! Assist this young gentleman with the fine boots!"

  Dame Corcas sprang to her feet, and so swiftly that Sir Pom Pom could hardly follow the movement of her hands, she had thrown great chunks of ham into the pot, along with half a dozen onions, and three handfuls of oaten flour. While Sir Pom-Pom and Madouc watched in bemusement, Filemon had brought out the bottle of wine, and had tasted its contents.

  Mikelaus said: "Arum. Cangel."

  "Why not?" said Filemon. "You are poor, miserable, and misshapen, and only two feet tall; still, why should you not enjoy a sip of wine from time to time, along with the rest of your merry comrades?" He passed the bottle to Mikelaus, who tilted it high into the air.

  "Enough!" cried Dame Corcas. "While I stand here stirring the pot, and smoke finding the sure way to my eyes, you two consume all the wine! Put the bottle aside! Entertain these two fine folk with your jolly antics."

  "Just one more swallow," begged Filemon. "It will lubricate my lips for the fife."

  He drank more wine, then brought a fife from his pocket. "Now then, Mikelaus! You must earn your soup! Show us your best hornpipe!"

  Filemon played a lively tune, of skirling runs and quick returns, with trills high and warbles low, while Mikelaus danced a wild jig of kicking legs and knees brought high, ending all with a forward and backward somersault.

  "Good work, Mikelaus!" cried Dame Corcas. "Perhaps our friends will favor you with a coin or two, as is the habit of the gentry!"

  Sir Pom-Pom growled: "Be content that you devour our food and swill our wine."

  Filemon put on a face of moist reproach, his eyes large and round. "We are comrades of the road-vagabonds of the same far horizons! Is it not share with one, share with all? Those are the rules of the gallant wayfarers!"

  "If this is true, I prefer otherwise," muttered Sir Pom-Pom. Dame Corcas emitted a sudden groan. "Ah! How the pangs do bite! It is my ailment; I have overexerted myself, as is my wont! Always I do too much for others! Filemon, my potion: where is it?"

  "In your pouch, my dear, as always!"

  "Ah indeed! I must limit my exertions, or I may well become ill!

  Sir Pom-Pom said: "We saw you at the fair. You were bounding about with great agility. Filemon threw Mikelaus high in the air, and you ran like the wind to catch him in the net."

  Mikelaus said: "Gurgo arraska, selvo sorarsio!" Dame Corcas said: "Yes, it was a shameful failure, for which we can blame the dog."

  "Bismal darstid: mango ki-yi-yi."

  "Whatever the case," said Dame Corcas, "the trick takes much out of me! I suffer for days afterward, but our public demands the spectacle; they know us of yore and we cannot disappoint them!"

  Filemon chuckled. "There is a variation to the trick, wherein we pretend to be three incompetent lunatics and purposely let Mikelaus fall, though pretending to catch him, but failing through one or another of our comic antics."

  "Dasa miago lou-lou. Yi. Tinka."

  "Just so!" said Filemon. "And the soup is now prepared to Dame Corcas' exacting standards. I serve you with our compliments! Eat hearty, one and all! Even you, Mikelaus; for once in your penurious little life, you shall sup your fill!"

  "Arum."

  After the meal, Madouc and Sir Pom-Pom prepared to continue on their way. Filemon called in a cheery voi
ce: "If we may, we will go in your company, and thus enliven the journey!"

  "Of course we shall!" said Dame Corcas definitely. "It would be sad indeed if we were to part company now, after such a jolly time together."

  "Then it is so decided, by popular vote!" declared Filemon.

  "We shall go as a little group of boon companions," declared Dame Corcas. "Even though you two ride fine horses while we must walk-or in the case of poor raggle-taggle little Mikelaus, scurry and lope. Be brave, good Mikelaus! Someday the world will turn right for you, and give you a fine reward for all your generous deeds."

  "Yi arum bosko."

  The group set off down the lane: Sir Pom-Pom riding first on gray Fustis, with Madouc next on Juno, at a gait sufficiently easy that Filemon and Dame Corcas, trudging behind, had no difficulty in keeping pace, and even Mikelaus, by dint of first running at full speed, then halting to catch his breath, remained only a few yards behind.

  The lane wound up hill and down dale: between hedges of hawthorn or low fences of mossy fieldstone; past vineyards and orchards, fields of barley and water-meadows sprinkled with flowers; into the shade of small forests, then once more out into the open sunlight.

  All at once, after two hours of travel, Dame Corcas gave a choking cry and, clutching her chest, fell to her knees, where she remained, sobbing under her breath. Filemon instantly went to tend her. "My dear Corcas, what is it this time? Another of your attacks?"

  Dame Corcas at last managed to speak. "I fear as much. Luckily, it does not seem truly severe, and I do not need my potion. Still, for a period I am obliged to rest. You and dear Mikelaus must go on to Biddle Bray without me, and make arrangements for the gala. When I am better I will creep on alone at my own pace, and eventually, if the Fates are kind, I will arrive in time to do my stint at the performance."

  "Unthinkable!" declared Filemon staunchly. "Surely there is a better solution to the problem! Let us take the advice of our friends." He addressed Sir Pom-Pom. "What is your opinion?"

  "I would not wish to offer advice."

  Filemon struck his fist into the palm of his hand. "I have it!" He turned to Madouc. "Perhaps you, in your kindness, might allow Dame Corcas to ride in your place onward to Biddle Bray, which lies along the road at no great distance."

  "It would be most companionable and loyal," cried Dame Corcas fervently. "I fear that otherwise I might just lie here in the road all night, until my strength returns."

  Madouc glumly dismounted. "I suppose it will do me no great harm to walk for a bit."

  "I thank you, from the bottom of my heart!" cried Dame Corcas. With surprising agility she stepped to Juno's side and swung herself into the saddle. "Ah! I feel better already! Filemon, shall we sing a brave little song, to bolster our spirits?"

  "Of course, my dear! What shall it be?"

  " ‘The Song of the Three Merry Vagabonds', of course."

  "Very good." Filemon clapped his hands to establish the cadence; then, in his gustful baritone mingled with Dame Corcas' piping soprano, the song was rendered:

  Our wants are many, our farthings few;

  And oft we sleep in the rain and dew!

  Our evening meal is a turnip stew;

  In spite of all we're a jolly crew!

  Refrain (as sung by Mikelaus):

  Sigmo chaska yi yi yi Varmous varmous oglethorpe.

  Our argosies ride distant tides;

  Out there somewhere our fortune hides.

  Though pain seems what our life provides Our dauntless doctrine still abides!

  Refrain (as sung by Mikelaus):

  Poxin mowgar yi yi yi Vilish hoy kazinga.

  The land is broad, the sky is vast!

  We travel far, but not too fast.

  The dogs bark loud as we walk past;

  At night the owls fly off aghast.

  Refrain (sung by Mikelaus):

  Varmous toigal yi yi yi Tinkish wombat nip.

  So went the ballad for sixteen more verses, with Mikelaus in each case croaking a refrain from the road behind.

  Other songs were sung, with such gusto that Madouc at last called up to Dame Corcas: "You seem to have recovered your strength."

  "To some extent, my dear! But it is verging into the afternoon, and now I must take my potion to prevent a new attack.

  I believe that I have the packet ready to hand." Dame Corcas searched her pouch, then gave a cry of consternation. "This is a dreadful discovery!"

  "What now, my dear?" cried Filernon.

  "I left my potion at the spot where we made our meal! I remember distinctly tucking the packet into the crotch of the elm tree."

  "That is most inconvenient! You must have your potion, if you are to survive the night!"

  "There is only one solution!" said Dame Corcas decisively.

  "I will ride back at speed for the potion. Meanwhile, you must continue to the old hut where once before we passed the night; it lies only a mile or so ahead. You may prepare us all nice beds of straw, and I will be back with you surely before the sun sets."

  "It seems the only way," said Filemon. "Ride at best speed; still, do not founder the horse, gallant beast though it may be!"

  "I know how to get the most out of such an animal," said Dame Corcas. "I will see you anon!" She turned back down the road, and kicked up Juno first into a trot, then into a warbling gallop, and soon disappeared from view, while Madouc and Sir Pom-Pom watched nonplussed.

  "Come then," said Filemon. "As Dame Corcas mentioned, there is a deserted hut a short distance ahead, which will provide us a kindly shelter for the night."

  The group continued, with Sir Pom-Pom, on Fustis, leading the way. Twenty minutes later they came upon a desolate old crofter's hut, situated a few yards off the road in the shade of two sprawling oak trees.

  "Here we are," said Filemon. "It is not a palace, but it is better than nothing, and clean straw is to be had in the rick."

  He turned to Mikelaus who had been trying to engage his attention. "What is it now, Mikelaus?"

  "Fidix. Waskin. Bolosio."

  Filemon stared down at him in shock. "Can it be true?"

  "Arum. Fooner."

  "I cannot recall the act! Still I will search my wallet." Almost at once Filemon discovered a packet tied in black cord. "Mikelaus, you are right! I absent-mindedly took up Dame Corcas' potion and dropped it into my pouch! And now the poor creature will be in a dreadful state! She will never give up her search while the light persists, and the worry may bring on a severe attack; you will recall that episode at Cwimbry."

  "Arum."

  "There is no help for it! I must ride to find her, so that she will not be in an agony of despair. Luckily, the way is not long." He turned to Sir Pom-Pom. "Sir, I must beg the use of your horse Fustis! I take the blame for the entire inconvenience! But Mikelaus will make himself handy during my short absence. Mikelaus, hear me now and hear me well! I do not want to learn of your shirking! Show this gentleman to the hayrick, then gather sticks for a fire. Further, I entrust you with a jar of my special wax. I want you to polish this gentleman's boots, and polish them until they shine like glass. It is the very least you can do for our friends until I return with Dame Corcas!" He sprang into the saddle which Sir Pom-Pom had only just vacated and galloped off down the road.

  "Hoy!" called Sir Pom-Pom after him. "At least leave behind the saddlebags, that we may make our supper in your absence!"

  But Filemon failed either to hear or to heed and was soon lost to sight.

  Sir Pom-Pom looked into the hut, then backed away. "I believe that I will sleep out in the open, where the must is less intense."

  "I will do likewise, since the night promises to be fine," said Madouc.

  Sir Pom-Pom and Mikelaus brought straw from an old rick and laid it down to make soft sweet-smelling beds. Then Sir Pom-Pom struck up a fire, but without saddlebags they could only look glumly into the flames and wait with what patience they could muster for the return of Filemon and Dame Corcas with their horses.


  The sun sank low and disappeared behind the far hills. Sir Pom-Pom went to look along the road but discovered neither sight nor sound of either Dame Corcas or Filemon.

  He returned to the fire and pulled off his boots. Mikelaus at once took them aside and began to polish them, using Filemon's special wax. Sir Pom-Pom spoke in surly tones: "I do not care to sit up until midnight. I will now lie down to sleep, which is the best remedy for an empty stomach."

  "I believe I will do the same," said Madouc. "Mikelaus may well stay up to wait; he has the polishing of your boots to occupy his time."

  For a period Madouc lay awake watching the stars drift past overhead, but at last her eyelids became heavy and she fell asleep. And so the night passed.

  In the morning Madouc and Sir Pom-Pom arose from their beds of straw and looked about. There was no sign of either Filemon, Dame Corcas, or the horses. When they looked for Mikelaus, he also was not in evidence, nor were Sir Pom-Pom's boots.

  Madouc said: "I am commencing to wonder about the honesty of Filemon and Dame Corcas."

  "Do not leave that impling Mikelaus out of your calculations," said Sir Pom-Pom through gritted teeth. "It is clear that he has decamped with my new boots."

  Madouc drew a deep breath. "I suppose it is futile to lament our loss. At Biddle Bray we will buy you stout buskins and a pair of good stockings. Until then you must go barefoot."

  II

  Madouc and Sir Pom-Pom trudged glumly into Biddle Bray; even the red feather in Sir Pom-Pom's cap had taken on a disconsolate slant. At the Dog's Head Inn they ate pease porridge for breakfast, after which, at a cobbler's shop, Sir Pom-Pom was fitted with a pair of buskins. When the cobbler called for his money, Sir Pom-Pom pointed to Madouc. "You must discuss the matter with her."