Lyonesse II - The Green Pear and Madouc

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Lyonesse II - The Green Pear and Madouc Page 77

by Jack Vance


  Twisk gave a gurgle of mocking laughter. "I cannot even name my own father, let alone yours!"

  "Still, my father brought you a lovely child; surely that impressed your memory!"

  "Hmm. One would so imagine." Twisk looked off across the meadow. "You have tickled my recollection! The occasion, so I recall, was unique. I can tell you this-" Twisk looked past Madouc into the forest. "Who are these solemn vagrants? Their presence obtrudes upon the mood of the festival!"

  Madouc turned to find that Sir Pom-Pom had crept through the forest and now stood close at hand. Not far behind, but well back in the shadows, lurked Travante.

  Madouc turned back to Twisk. "These are my companions; they are also embarked upon serious quests. Sir Pom-Pom seeks the Holy Grail; Travante searches for his youth, which was lost when he was not paying heed."

  Twisk said haughtily: "Had you not avouched for them, they might have come to grief!"

  Sir Pom-Pom, despite Madouc's glare of annoyance, stepped forward. "Dame Fairy of the Silver Eyes, allow me to put you a question, which is this: where should I seek the Holy Grail?"

  "Determine its location and go to that spot; that is my wise advice."

  Travante spoke tentatively: "If you could guide me to my lost youth, I would be most grateful."

  Twisk jumped high in the air, pirouetted, settled slowly to the ground. "I am not an index of the world's worries. I know nothing either of Christian crockery nor truant time! And now: silence! King Throbius has appeared and will fix his amnesty upon Falael!"

  Sir Pom-Pom muttered: "I see nothing but wisps and blurs." Travante whispered in amazement: "Look again! All is coming clear! I see the castle, and a thousand colored delights!"

  "Now I see the same!" whispered Sir Pom-Pom in amazement.

  "Hist! Not another sound!"

  At the castle tall doors of pearl and opal swung apart; King Throbius stepped forward at a stately pace, a dozen roundfaced imps hopping behind holding the hem of his long purple train. For the occasion he wore a crown of sixteen tall silver prongs, curving outward and terminating in sparkling points of white fire.

  King Throbius advanced to the balustrade, and halted. He looked out over the meadow, where all was hushed, and even Falael desisted from his scratching long enough to look around in awe.

  King Throbius held up his hand. "Today marks a significant epoch in our lives, in that it celebrates the regeneration of one of our ilk! Falael, you have erred! You have contrived ills and wrongs by the dozen, and put many of these schemes into effect! For such offenses, you have been visited with a remedial condition which at the very least has occupied your attention and brought about a welcome cessation of mischief! Now then, Falael! I asked you to address this company, and tell them of your redemption! Speak! Are you ready to have the 'Curse of the Itch' removed?"

  "I am ready!" cried Falael with fervor. "In all aspects, up and down, right and left, in and out: I am ready."

  "Very well! I hereby-"

  "One moment!" called Falael. "I have one particularly vexing itch I wish to subdue before the curse is removed." With great zeal Falael scratched an area along his belly. "Now then, Your Majesty. I am ready!"

  "Very good! I hereby lift the curse, and I hope, Falael, that the inconveniences of your punishment will have persuaded you

  to forbearance, kindliness and restraint, as well as a full terminus to your penchant for wicked tricks!"

  "Absolutely, Your Majesty! All is changed! Henceforth I shall be known as Falael the Good!"

  "That is a noble aspiration, which I endorse and applaud. See that you keep it always to the fore! Now then! Let the festival proceed! All must participate in Falael's joy! One last word! Yonder, so I notice, stand three wights from the world of men - two mortals and the beloved daughter of our own dear Twisk! In the spirit of festival we give them welcome; let there be neither molestation nor prank, no matter how amusing! Today jocundity is rife, and all shall share!"

  King Throbius held up his hand in salute and returned into the castle.

  Madouc had been politely listening to the remarks of King Throbius; when she turned back she found Twisk had started to saunter off across the meadow. Madouc called out in distress: "Mother, where do you go?"

  Twisk looked around in surprise. "I go off to rejoice with the others! There will be dancing and a great drinking of fairy wine; you have been allowed to join us; will you do so?"

  "No, Mother! If I drank fairy wine, I would become giddy and who knows what might happen?"

  "Well then, will you dance?"

  Madouc smilingly shook her head. "I have heard that those who dance with the fairies are never able to stop. I will neither drink wine nor dance, nor will Sir Pom-Pom nor Travante."

  "As you like. In that case-"

  "You were about to tell me of my father!"

  Sir Pom-Pom stepped forward. "You might also specify how I am to find the location of the Holy Grail, that I may go to this spot and find it."

  Travante spoke more hesitantly: "I would welcome even a hint in regard to my lost youth!"

  "It is all a nuisance," said Twisk fretfully. "You must wait until another time."

  Madouc turned toward the castle and cried out: "King Throbius! King Throbius! Where are you? Come here, if you please, and at once!"

  Twisk jerked back in consternation. "Why do you act so strangely? You lack all convention!"

  A deep voice spoke; King Throbius himself stood at hand.

  "Who calls my name with such unseemly shrieks, as if at the imminence of peril?"

  Twisk spoke in a silken voice: "Your Majesty, it was only an excess of girlish excitement; we are sorry you were disturbed."

  "Not so," declared Madouc.

  "I am puzzled," said King Throbius. "You were not excited or you were not sorry?"

  "Neither, Your Highness."

  "Well then-what sent you into such frantic transports?"

  "In truth, Your Highness, I wished to consult my mother in your presence, so that you might help her recollection when it faltered."

  King Throbius nodded sagely. "And what memories did you wish to explore?"

  "The identity of my father and the nature of my pedigree." King Throbius looked sternly at Twisk. "As I recall, the episode was not altogether to your credit."

  "It went neither one way nor the other," said Twisk, now crestfallen. "It occurred as it occurred and that was the end to it."

  "And how went the details?" asked Madouc.

  "It is not a tale for immature ears," said King Throbius. "But in this case we must make an exception. Twisk, will you tell the story, or must I assume the task?"

  Twisk's response was sullen. "The incidents are both ridiculous and embarrassing. They are nothing to blazon about, as if in pride, and I prefer to stand in detachment."

  "Then I will recount the episode. To begin with, I will point out that embarrassment is the other face of vanity."

  "I have a profound admiration for myself," said Twisk. "Is this vanity? The point is debatable."

  "The term may or may not apply. I will now revert to a time some years in the past. Twisk, then as now, fancied herself a great beauty-as indeed she was and is. In her folly she teased and tormented Mangeon the troll, flaunting herself, then leaping nimbly from his grasp and taking gleeful pleasure in his expostulations. Mangeon finally became swollen with malice and decided to punish her for her tricks. One day, coming upon Twisk unaware, he seized her, dragged her up Wamble Way to Munkins Road, and chained her to Idilra Post, which stands beside the crossroad. Mangeon then cast a spell, to hold the chains secure until Twisk had persuaded three wayfarers to engage her in erotic congress. Twisk will now elaborate upon the tale, if she is of a mind."

  "I am not so of a mind," said Twisk crossly. "Still in the hope that my daughter Madouc may profit from my error, I will recount the circumstances."

  "Speak on," said King Throbius.

  "There is little to tell. The first to pass was the knight Sir Jaucinet
of Castle Cloud in Dahaut. He was both courteous and sympathetic and would have persisted longer than was perhaps truly needful, but at last I dismissed him, since the time was close on dusk and I wished not to discourage other wayfarers. The second to pass was Nisby, a ploughboy on his way home from the field. He was most helpful, in a rude but vigorous fashion. He wasted no time since, so he explained, he expected bacon for his supper. I was desperate to be free before nightfall and was relieved to see him depart. Alas! I was to be disappointed! Dusk became evening; the moon rose full; it shone down from the sky as bright as an escutcheon of polished silver. Now along the road came a shadowy figure, cloaked in black, with a widebrimmed hat shading his face from the moonlight, so that his features could not be discerned. He came at a slow gait, stopping every three paces, from watchfulness, or perhaps from mindless habit. I found him bereft of all appeal, and did not call out to him that he might liberate me from the post. Nevertheless, he saw me by moonlight, and stopped short, to make an appraisal. Neither his posture nor his silence eased my misgivings; still, I could not depart by reason of the chain and its connection to Idilra Post, so I made a virtue of necessity and remained where I was. With slow and careful step the dark wayfarer approached and at last worked his will upon me. Where Nisby was abrupt and Sir Jaucinet elegant, the dark creature used a furious zeal lacking in all sentimentality, failing even to remove his hat. Neither did he speak his name, nor so much as comment upon the weather. My response, under the circumstances, was confined to cold disdain.

  "Eventually the affair ran its course and I was free. The dark creature went off through the moonlight, his gait even slower and more thoughtful than before. I hastened back to Thripsey Shee."

  At this point, Queen Bossum, splendid in a gown of sapphire spangles and pale cobweb, came to join King Throbius, who turned to greet her with full gallantry. Twisk continued her tale. "In my term I was delivered of an infant, who brought me neither pleasure nor pride, by reason of her provenance. At the first opportunity and with little remorse I changed her for the infant Dhrun, and all the rest is known."

  Madouc made a sad sound. "The case is even more confused than before! To whom will I look for my pedigree? To Nisby? To Sir Jaucinet? To the dark creature of the shadows? Must it be one of these?"

  "I would think so," said Twisk. "Still, I guarantee nothing."

  "It is all most untidy," said Madouc.

  Twisk spoke with petulance: "Then is then! Now is now, and now is the festival! Vivacity tingles in the very air; see how the fairies dance and play! Notice Falael and the merry capers he is cutting! How he enjoys his liberation!"

  Madouc turned to look. "He is indeed very brisk. Still, dear Mother, before you join the revelry, I need your further advice!"

  "You shall have it and gladly! I advise that you depart Madling Meadow at this very instant! The day is waning, and soon the music will start. If you loiter you might be prompted to bide here all night long to your sorrow! Therefore I bid you fare well!"

  King Throbius finished his gallant interchanges with Queen Bossum. He turned about in time to overhear Twisk's advice to Madouc, and was affected adversely. He called out: "Twisk, I bid you stay!" He strode forward, and the twelve roundfaced implets who carried his train were obliged to hop and run to keep pace.

  King Throbius halted and made a stately gesture of admonition. "Twisk, your conduct, on this day of joy, strikes a discord. At Thripsey Shee 'faith', 'truth' and 'loyalty' are not just catch words to be abandoned at the first inconvenience! You must dutifully assist your daughter, odd little crotchet though she may be!"

  Twisk flung out her hands in despair. "Sire, I have already gratified her needs to a surfeit! She arrived devoid of parents except for me, her mother; she may now select from any of three fathers, each with his distinctive pedigree. I could hardly have provided a greater choice and still retain my dignity."

  King Throbius nodded in measured approval. "I commend your delicacy."

  "Thank you, Your Majesty! Now may I join the company?"

  "Not yet! We are agreed to this extent: Madouc has an amplitude of choice. Let us learn if she is pleasurably content."

  "Not at all!" cried Madouc. "The case is worse than ever!"

  "How so?"

  "I have choices, but where do they lead? I shudder to think of the pedigree I might derive from the dark creature."

  "Aha! I believe that I understand your dilemma!" King Throbius turned to Twisk. "Can you resolve this problem, or must I intervene?"

  Twisk shrugged. "My best efforts have evidently gone for naught. Madouc, His Highness has offered assistance; I suggest that you accept, after first inquiring what he wants in return. That is a mother's sage advice."

  King Throbius spoke severely: "On this day of gladness, I will do what needs to be done, and demand nothing in return! Listen then, to my instructions! Bring hither to this spot your three putative fathers: Nisby, Sir Jaucinet, and the dark creature. Stand them together side by side; I will identify your father on the instant and discover the length of his pedigree!"

  Madouc reflected for a moment. "All very well, but what if the three refuse to come to Thripsey Shee?"

  King Throbius reached to the ground and picked up a pebble. He touched it to his forehead, to his nose, to his chin, and finally to the point of his sharp fairy tongue. He handed the pebble to Madouc. "Whomever you touch with this stone must follow where you lead, or stand at your command, until you touch him on the backside with this same stone and cry out: 'Begone!' By this means you may induce the three to come with you."

  "Thank you, Your Highness! Only one detail remains."

  "What might that be?"

  "Where shall I find these individuals?"

  King Throbius frowned. "That is a reasonable question. Twisk, what are your concepts in this regard?"

  "Your Majesty, I know nothing for certain. Nisby came from the direction of the Dillydown; Sir Jaucinet mentioned Castle

  Cloud in Dahaut; as for the third I know nothing whatever."

  King Throbius signalled Twisk to the side. The two conferred for several minutes, then turned back to Madouc. "The problem, as always, has a solution."

  "That is good news!" said Madouc. "My dear mother Twisk has volunteered to make the search?"

  King Throbius held up his hand to quell Twisk's instant outcry. "The possibility was discussed, then abandoned. Our scheme is far more cunning! You shall not seek out these three individuals; instead, they shall come in search of you!"

  Madouc's jaw dropped in bewilderment. "I do not under stand."

  "This is the plan. I shall disseminate to all quarters an information. Bosnip! Where is Bosnip?"

  "Here I am, Sire!"

  "Make an exact record of the following decree. Are you ready?"

  Bosnip the Royal Scribe produced a sheet of mulberry paper, a vial of black-beetle ink, a long quill pen. "Sire, I am ready!"

  "This is the decree; write with your best flourishes":

  'Can anyone forget the penalty visited upon the fairy Twisk, so proud and haughty, at Idilra Post? Now her equally beauteous daughter must also be chastened; is it not a pity? Like Twisk, she flaunted and teased, then ran off to hide. The penalty is just: like Twisk, she will be constrained to Idilra Post until liberated, as before, by some sympathetic passerby.'

  'So say I, Throbius, of Thripsey Shee, the King.'

  Bosnip wrote with concentration, the tip of his black quill pen twitching back and forth at speed. King Throbius asked: "You have transcribed these words?"

  "Exactly, Sire!"

  "That, then, shall be my decree," said King Throbius. "It shall be made known to all, save only the ogres Fuluot, Carabara, Gois and three-headed Throop. Nisby will hear, also Sir Jaucinet, and the dark creature as well, whatever his name and his nature."

  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 subj
ected 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."

 

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