by Jack Vance
"I only wanted to make sure of your safety!" declared Sir Pom-Pom in a surly voice. "I did not intend to disturb you, no matter what you were up to; still, for some reason, I was forced to leap into the air."
"Please do not trouble yourself again," said Madouc. "Go back to where you left Travante."
Sir Pom-Pom departed with poor grace, and again Madouc disposed herself to wait.
Fifteen minutes passed. A jingling sound reached her ears. She rose to her feet and stood waiting. Down Wamble Way from the north came a creature running on eight splayed legs. Its head was like that of a great sea-horse, rearing high from a torso segmented of dark yellow plates. Astride the creature sat a faun with a crafty brown face, small horns, and lower limbs over grown with coarse brown fur. From his saddle and bridle hung a hundred small bells, which jingled to the gait of his bizarre steed.
The faun brought the creature to a halt and stared at Madouc. "Why do you sit so calmly by Idilra Post?"
"I am calm by nature."
"It is as good a reason as any. What do you think of my noble mount?"
"I have never seen such a creature before."
"Nor I, but it is docile enough. Will you ride at my back? I am bound for the isle in Kallimanthos Pond, where the wild grapes hang in purple tumbles."
"I must wait here."
"As you wish." The faun urged his steed into motion. He was soon out of sight, and his jingling gone from hearing.
The sun declined into the west. Madouc began to fret and wonder; she had no wish to sit by Idilra Post during the long hours of night.
From eastward along Munkins Road came the rumpety-tump rumpety-tump of galloping hooves. Just short of the crossroads the sound diminished as the horse slowed to a walk. A moment later a knight in half-armour, mounted on a fine bay horse, rode into view.
The knight drew up his horse. For a moment he studied Madouc, then dismounted and tied the horse to a tree. He lifted the helmet from his head and hung it to the saddle. Madouc saw a gentleman somewhat past his first youth, with lank yellow hair hanging beside a long mournful face. Heavy-lidded eyes droopedr at the corners; long yellow mustaches dangled to either side of his mouth, creating an impression of amiable impracticality. He turned to face Madouc and performed a courtly bow.
"Allow me to present myself. I am Sir Jaucinet of Castle Cloud, and a knight of full chivalry. May I inquire your name, your condition and why I find you in such dismal straits, standing as if in need of succor beside Idilra Post?"
"You may ask, certainly," said Madouc. "I would gladly answer in full were it not that dusk is coming on, and the sooner I am finished with my deplorable duty the better."
"Well spoken!" declared Sir Jaucinet. "I take it that I can be of assistance?"
"True. Be kind enough to approach. No; you need not remove your armour as of this particular instant."
"Are you sure?" asked Sir Jaucinet doubtfully.
"Quite sure, if you will only come a few steps closer."
"With pleasure! You are a most beautiful maiden; let me kiss you!"
"Sir Jaucinet, under different conditions I would consider you extremely forward, or even brisk. But still...
Sir Jaucinet stepped close and in due course joined Nisby inside the pavilion. Madouc resumed her vigil. The sun sank low, and once again Sir Pom-Pom showed himself, now brazenly in the middle of the road. He called: "How long must we dawdle here? Darkness approaches; I do not want to mingle with creatures of the night."
"Come then," said Madouc. "Bring Travante; the two of you may sit in the pavilion."
Sir Pom-Pom and Travante hastened to follow the suggestion, and now it was discovered that the pavilion had added to itself another chamber, where Nisby and Sir Jaucinet sat in conditions of apathy.
The sun disappeared behind the trees. Madouc stretched her cramped muscles, walked three paces in all directions, looked up each road, but vision blurred in the gathering dusk and she discovered nothing. Madouc went back to the post, and stood with uneasiness tweaking at her nerves. Twilight shrouded the Forest of Tantrevalles. For a period Madouc watched the bats wheeling and darting overhead. As twilight waned and the sky went dark, then brightened in the east as the moon rose into the sky.
Madouc shivered to a waft of cool air. She wondered if she truly wanted to stand by Idilra Post in the wan moonlight. Probably not. She brooded over the reasons why she had come, and she thought of Nisby and Sir Jaucinet secure in the pavilion: two of the three. Madouc sighed and looked apprehensively in every direction. All color was gone, blanched by the moonlight. The roads were silver-gray; shadows were black.
The moon rose up the sky. An owl drifted across the forest and was briefly silhouetted upon the face of the moon. Madouc saw a shooting star. From far off in the forest came an odd hooting sound.
The moving shadow Madouc had been expecting came along the road, advancing step by slow step. Fifteen feet from the post it halted. A black cloak muffled the body; a broad-brimmed hat shaded the face. Madouc shrank back against the post, tense and quiet. The shadowed figure stood motionless. Madouc drew a slow breath. She peered, trying to discern a face under the hat but saw nothing. The area was blank, as if she were looking into a void.
Madouc spoke, her voice tremulous: "Who are you, dark of shadow?"
The shape made no response.
Madouc tried again: "Are you dumb? Why will you not speak?"
The shadow whispered: "I have come to succor you from the post. Long ago I did the same for the willful fairy Twisk, to her great content. You shall be allowed the same comfort. Remove your garments, that I may see your form in the moonlight."
Madouc gripped the stone so tightly that she feared she might drop it, which would never do. She quavered: "It is considered genteel for the gentleman to divest himself first."
"That is not important," whispered the dark shape. "It is time to proceed."
The creature sidled forward and reached to remove Madouc's gown. She thrust with the pebble into the blank countenance, but met only emptiness. In a panic she pressed the pebble at the groping hands, but the sleeves of the cloak thwarted her effort. the The shadow brushed her arm aside and bore her to the ground; the pebble jarred loose and went rolling. Madouc gave a sad little cry, and for an instant lay limp; it was almost her ruin. But now, with a spasmodic effort, she squirmed free and groped for the pebble. The shadow seized her leg. "Why this mettlesome agility? Calm yourself and lie quiet! Otherwise the process becomes exhausting."
"One moment," gasped Madouc. "The process already goes too fast."
"That to the side, let us continue."
Madouc's fingers closed on the pebble. She thrust it against the black form and touched the creature in one of its parts. At once it went lax.
Madouc rose gratefully to her feet. She settled her gown and ran her fingers through her hair, then looked down at the listless shadow. "Rise; follow me!"
She took the shambling figure to the side chamber of the pavilion where Nisby and Sir Jaucinet sat staring into vacancy. "Enter; sit; do not move until I give the command."
Madouc stood in the moonlight for a moment, looking outupon the crossroads. She told herself: "I have succeeded, but now I am almost afraid to learn the truth. Sir Jaucinet seems the most noble, while the shadow is the most mysterious. There is little to be said for Nisby except his rustic simplicity."
She thought of the glamour. "It seems to make me more conspicuous than I like; for the nonce, I shall have done with it."
With the fingers of her left hand she tweaked the lobe of her right ear. "Is it gone?" she wondered. "I feel no change in myself." When she entered the pavilion, the demeanor of both Sir Pom-Pom and Travante assured her that the glamour had gone, which brought her a hurtful, if illogical, little twinge of something like regret.
V
In the morning Madouc, Sir Pom-Pom and Travante breakfasted within the pavilion. It was thought best that neither Nisby nor Sir Jaucinet be aroused to take nourishment for
which they might or might not feel appetite. The same considerations applied even more persuasively to the shadowy figure in the black cloak, who by day was as bizarre incomprehensible as by night. Under the wide brim of his hat opened a void into which no one cared to look too closely.
After breakfast Madouc marshalled Nisby, Sir Jaucinet and the nameless shadow-thing out into the road. Sir Jaucinet's horse had broken loose during the night and was nowhere to be seen.
Madouc reduced the pavilion to a kerchief; the party set off to the south down Wamble Way, Sir Pom-Pom and Travante taking the lead, Madouc coming after, followed by Nisby, then Sir Jaucinet, and finally the individual in the black cloak.
Shortly before noon, the group once again entered Madling Meadow, which, as before, seemed only a grassy expanse with a hummock at the center. Madouc called softly: "Twisk! Twisk! Twisk!"
Mists and vapors confused their eyes, dissipating to reveal the fairy castle, with banners at every turret. The festival decorations celebrating Falael's rehabilitation were no longer in evidence; as for Falael, he had abandoned his post for the moment and sat under a birch tree to the edge of the meadow, using a twig to reach inaccessible areas of his back.
Twisk appeared beside Madouc, today wearing pale blue pantaloons riding low on her hips and a shirt of white diaphane. "You have wasted no time," said Twisk. She inspected Madouc's captives. "How the sight of those three takes me back in memory! But there are changes! Nisby has become a man; Sir Jaucinet seems dedicated to wistful yearning."
Madouc said: "It is the effect of his plaintive eyes and the long droop of his mustaches."
Twisk averted her eyes from the third member of the group. "As for yonder odd creature, King Throbius shall judge. Come; we must interrupt his contemplations, but that is the way of it."
The group trooped across the meadow to a place at the front of the castle. Fairies of the shee came from all directions: bounding, flitting, turning cartwheels and somersaults, to crowd close and babble questions; to pry, pinch and poke. From his place under the birch tree Falael came at a hop and a run, to mount his post the more readily to observe events.
At the main portal to the castle a pair of young heralds stood proudly on duty. They were splendid in livery of black and yellow diaper and carried clarions turned from fairy silver. At Twisk's behest they turned toward the castle and blew three briliant fanfares of coruscating harmonies.
The heralds lowered their horns and wiped their mouths with the back of their hands, grinning all the while at Twisk.
A silence of expectation held the area, broken only by the giggles of three implets who were trying to tie small green frogs into Sir Jaucinet's mustaches. Twisk chided the implets and sent them away. Madouc went to remove the frogs but was interrupted by the appearance of King Throbius on a balcony, fifty feet above the meadow. In a stern voice he called the heralds:
"What means this wanton summons? I was engrossed in meditation!"
One of the heralds called up to the balcony: "It was Twisk! She ordered us to disturb your rest."
The other herald corroborated the statement. "She told us to blow a great blast that would startle you from your bed to the floor."
Twisk gave an indifferent shrug. "Blame me, if you like; however, I acted on the insistence of Madouc, whom you may remember."
Madouc, with an injured glance toward Twisk, stepped forward. "I am here!"
"So I see! What of that?"
"Do you not remember? I went to Idilra Post that I might learn the identity of my father!" She indicated the three individuals at her back. "Here is Nisby the peasant, Sir Jaucinet the knight; also this mysterious shape of no category, nor yet any face."
"I remember the case distinctly!" said King Throbius. He looked across the area with disapproval. "Fairies! Why do you thrust and crush and press with such rude energy? One and all, stand back! Now then: Twisk! You must make a sure and careful inspection."
"One glance was enough," said Twisk.
"And your findings?"
"I recognize Nisby and Sir Jaucinet. As for the shadow, his face is invisible, which in itself is a significant index."
"It is indeed unique. The case has aspects of interest."
King Throbius stepped back from the balcony and a moment later came out upon the meadow. Again the fairies crowded about, to chortle and murmur, to mow and leer, until King Throbius issued orders so furious that his subjects shrank back abashed.
"Now then!" said King Throbius. "We will proceed. Madouc, for you this must be a happy occasion! Soon you will be able to claim one of these three for your beloved father."
Madouc dubiously considered the possibilities. "Sir Jaucinet undoubtedly boasts the best pedigree; still I cannot believe that I am related to someone who looks like a sick sheep."
"All will be made known," said King Throbius confidently. He looked to right and left. "Osfer! Where are you?"
"I have expected your call, Your Highness! I stand directly behind your royal back."
"Come forward, Osfer, into the purview of my eyes. We must exercise your craft. Madouc's paternity is in question and we must definitely resolve the issue."
Osfer stepped forward: a fairy of middle maturity, brown of skin and gnarled of limb, with eyes of amber and a nose which hooked almost to meet an up-jutting chin. "Sire, your orders?"
"Go to your workshop; return with dishes of Matronian nephrite, to the number of five; bring probers, nitsnips, and a gill of your Number Six Elixir."
"Your Highness, I presumed to anticipate your commands, and I already have these items at hand."
"Very good, Osfer. Order your varlets to bring hither a table; let it be spread with a cloth of gray murvaille."
"The order has been effected, Sire. The table stands ready at he your left hand."
King Throbius turned to inspect the arrangements. "Well done, Osfer. Now then: bring out your best extractor; we shall need fibrils of coming and going. When all is ready, we will contrive our matrices."
"In minutes only, Your Highness! I move with the speed of flashing nymodes when urgency is the call!"
"Do so now! Madouc is hard-put to restrain her eagerness; it is as if she were dancing upon thorns."
"A pathetic case, to be sure," said Osfer. "But soon indeed she will be able to embrace her father."
In a subdued voice Madouc spoke to King Throbius: "Enlighten me, Your Highness! How will you prove the case?"
"Be attentive; all will be made known. Twisk, why are you so exercised?"
"Osfer is molesting me!"
"Not so, Your Highness! You were about to order matrices; I had already started to apply the drain to Twisk."
"Of course. Twisk, we must have three minims of your blood; be stoic."
"I am loth to endure these martyrdoms! Is it truly needful?"
King Throbius made a meaningful sign; hissing between her teeth Twisk gingerly allowed Osfer to ply his instruments. He took a quantity of blood from her slender wrist, which he then discharged into one of the nephrite dishes. By processes too swift for Madouc to follow, he used the blood to nurture a fragile construction of fibers and small blue, red and green plasms.
Osfer turned proudly to King Throbius. "It is perfection in all respects! Each quirk and phase of Twisk's somewhat devious nature are open for inspection."
"You have done well." King Throbius turned to Madouc. "Now it is your turn; from your blood Osfer will grow a matrix that is yours alone."
Madouc cried out between clenched teeth. "My turn has come and gone! He has already done his worst to me!"
Presently a matrix somewhat similar to that derived from Twisk appeared on a second plate.
"Next, let us try Sir Jaucinet!" said King Throbius. "Soon we shall see who is father to whom!"
Osfer drew blood from Sir Jaucinet's nerveless arm and constructed the matrix peculiar to the lord of Castle Cloud.
King Throbius turned to Madouc. "There you see three matrices, representing the innate fabric of yourse
lf, your mother, Twisk, and this noble knight. By the most subtle means, Osfer will now subtract the influence of Twisk from your matrix, to create a new matrix. If your father is Sir Jaucinet, the new matrix will be identical to his, and you will know the truth of your paternity. Osfer, you may proceed."
"Sire, I have completed the operation. Behold the two matrices!"
"I assume they are identical?" said King Throbius.
"Not at all, and in no particular!"
"Aha!" said King Throbius. "So much for Sir Jaucinet; he may be excused. Liberate him from your thrall, Madouc; bid him be on his way."
Madouc obeyed the instruction. Sir Jaucinet gave instant vent to peevish complaints, and demanded reasons for the many inconveniences to which he had been put.
"I can give you no easy response," said Madouc. "It is a long and detailed story."
"What of the frogs in my mustache?" demanded Sir Jaucinet. "Is their presence such a complicated affair?"
"Not altogether," Madouc admitted. "Still, King Throbius has ordered your departure, and you had best hurry, since the afternoon is waning and the way is long."
Sir Jaucinet, his expression one of deep chagrin, turned on his heel. "Wait!" called King Throbius. "Osfer, apply the ‘Four-fold Spell' to speed good Sir Jaucinet on his journey."
"Indeed, Sire, while he conferred with Madouc, I applied the ‘Six-fold Spell'," said Osfer.
"Good work, Osfer!" King Throbius spoke to Sir Jaucinet:
"As you march home, each of your strides will carry you six yards, and you will arrive at Castle Cloud well before you expected."
Sir Jaucinet bowed stiffly; first to King Throbius and then to Osfer. For Madouc he spared only a glance of moist-eyed reproach; then he was gone, bounding across Madling Meadow on six-fold strides, and was soon lost to sight.
King Throbius turned to Osfer. "Now then: let us deal with the peasant Nisby."
"Sire, you will note on this dish the matrix of Nisby, which I have already taken the liberty of constructing."
