Elder Isles - Madouc Part 53

Kerce waved his hand. "Say no more. I will make a true and accurate copy of the drawing, which may be used for attestation, if any such is needed."

Madouc departed the library; then, taking pains to go un.o.bserved, she went around to the stables. Sir Pom-Pom was nowhere in evidence. Madouc looked in on Tyfer and rubbed his nose, then returned to the castle.

At noon Madouc dined in the Small Refectory with her six maids-in-waiting. Today they were unusually voluble, for there was much to discuss. King Casmir's proclamation, however, came to dominate the conversation. Elissia remarked, perhaps with sincerity, that Madouc must now be considered a famous person, whose name would resound down centuries to come. "Think of it!" sighed Elissia. "Here is the sheer stuff of romance! Legends will tell how handsome knights from far and near dared fire, ice, dragon and troll; how they fought crazed Celt and fierce Goth, all for love of the beautiful red-haired princess!"

Madouc offered a small correction. "My hair is not precisely red. It is a most unusual colour, as of copper alloyed with gold."

Chlodys said: "Nevertheless, for purposes of the legend, you will be considered red-haired and beautiful, with no regard whatever for the truth."

Devonet made a thoughtful comment. "As of now, we cannot be absolutely sure that this legend will come to pa.s.s."

"How so?" asked Ydraint.

"Much depends upon circ.u.mstances. a.s.sume that some valiant and handsome knight brings the Holy Grail to Queen Sollace. King Casmir asks as to what boon the brave knight desires. At this point events hang in the balance. If he decides that he is disinclined for marriage, he might ask the king for a fine horse or a pair of good hunting dogs-which of course provides small scope for a legend."

Chlodys said sagaciously: "It is a risky situation."

Felice spoke: "Another matter! It is the best relic which wins the boon! So that after great efforts and far quests, the best relic brought to the queen might be, let us say, a hair from the tail of the lion who ate Saint Milicia in the Roman arena. Poor stuff, of course, but Madouc must still marry the lummox who submits such an article."

Madouc tossed her head. "I am not so pliable as you might like to think."

Devonet spoke with grave concern. "I will counsel you! Be meek, modest and patient! Yield gracefully to the king's commands! It is not only your duty; it is also the way of prudence. That is my reasoned advice."

Madouc listened with no great attention. "Naturally, you must do as you think proper."

"One word more! The king has declared that if you cark or pout, or attempt to avoid his fiat, he will simply give you off into servitude!"

Chlodys turned to Madouc, who sat stolidly eating raisin pudding. "And what do you say to that?"

"Nothing."

"But what will you do?"

"You shall see."

VII.

On the second day of the festival King Milo and Queen Caudabil were aroused early from their beds and allowed only a quick breakfast of curds and groats so that they might be on hand to call out the start to the tug-of-war between the members of the Fishmonger's Guild and the Stonemason's Guild.

Madouc was also up early, before Lady Vosse could communicate the wishes of Queen Sollace. Madouc went directly out to the stables. This fine bright morning she found Sir Pom-Pom forking manure from the stalls into a barrow. "Sir Pom-Pom!" called Madouc. "Step outside, if you please, where the air is less thick."

"You must wait your turn," said Sir Pom-Pom. "The barrow is full and I must wheel it out to the dungheap. Then I will be able to give you a moment or two."

Madouc compressed her lips but waited in silence until Sir Pom-Pom, with measured deliberation, put aside the barrow and came out into the stable-yard. "Whatever your whims, you may no longer count upon me for their fulfillment," said Pom-Pom.

Madouc spoke severely: "Your conduct seems surly and gruff! I would not like to think you a boor. Why do you speak so brusquely?"

Sir Pom-Pom gave a bark of curt laughter. "Hah! It is simple enough. Have you not heard the king's proclamation?"

"I have indeed."

"I have heard it as well. Tomorrow I relinquish my post as royal stable-attendant and lackey to the princess. On the following day I will seize time by the forelock and go in search of the Holy Grail, or any other relic I can lay my hands upon. It may well be the opportunity of my lifetime."

Madouc gave a slow nod. "I understand your ambition. But is it not sad that you must give up your good and secure employment to go out chasing a will-o'-the-wisp? To me it seems an act of reckless folly."

"So it may be," said Sir Pom-Pom doggedly. "Still, such chances for fame and fortune come rarely. One must grasp them as they pa.s.s."

"Quite so. Still, I might help you have the best of both worlds were you to moderate your churlish behavior."

Sir Pom-Pom looked around in cautious interest. "How so and to what degree?"

"You must swear to hold secret what I am about to tell you."

"Hm. Will this secret involve me in trouble?"

"I think not."

"Very well. I will hold my tongue. I have done so before and I suppose I can do so again."

"Listen then! The king has ordered me to go forth in search of my pedigree, and without delay. Admittedly he was in a state of exasperation when he spoke, but his orders were explicit, and included the service of a suitable escort. Therefore, I command that you serve me in this capacity. If you obey, you will retain your employment and still be able to seek the Holy Grail."

Sir Pom-Pom squinted off into the sunlight. "The proposition, on the surface, seems reasonable. Still, what if our quests lead in different directions?"

Madouc brushed aside the objection. "Why borrow trouble? Obviously we cannot antic.i.p.ate every quirk of Fate before we have even made our preparations."

Sir Pom-Pom put on a stubborn frown. "I still feel that we should agree on a plan."

"Tush," said Madouc. "More than likely, the question will never arise. If so, we shall deal with it then and there."

"All this to the side," growled Sir Pom-Pom, "I would feel easier if I had definite orders from the mouth of the king himself."

Madouc gave her head a decisive shake. "I have been granted leave to go, with no restrictions; that is enough. I do not want to re-open the discussion and risk some foolish qualification."

Sir Pom-Pom turned a dubious glance over his shoulder. "It is true that I have long-standing orders to attend you wherever you ride, and they have never been revoked. If I choose to retain my employment, the king has charged me to follow where you go, and serve you as best I may. When do you wish to depart?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Impossible! It is already late in the day; I will not be able to make the preparations!"

"Very well. We will leave on the morning of the day after tomorrow, half an hour before dawn. Have Tyfer saddled and ready, and also a horse for yourself."

"Now then," said Sir Pom-Pom, "we must think clearly in this regard. Even though you claim that His Majesty has given you leave to go off on this venture, is it possible that he might have spoken in haste, or that he might change his mind?"

"Anything is possible," said Madouc haughtily. "I cannot trouble myself with every swing of the weatherc.o.c.k."

"What if he suddenly discovers that his beloved Madouc is missing and sends off his knights and his heralds to bring her back? They would have an easy time of it if you were mounted on the dappled pony Tyfer, with the costly saddle and fringed reins. No, Princess! We must ride as might the children of peasants; our horses must attract no attention; otherwise we may well be home and in disgrace long before we arrive even so far as Frogmarsh."

Madouc tried to argue that Tyfer, with his dappled coat, was of a sort to blend among the shadows of a landscape and was hence inconspicuous, but Sir Pom-Pom would hear nothing of it. "I will select the proper mounts; you need think no more on the subject."