Elder Isles - Madouc Part 23

"We met at Domreis. I am Dhrun."

Madouc's face came alive with excitement. "Of course! You were younger!"

"And so were you. Noticeably younger."

Madouc turned a quick glance toward Queen Sollace. Leaning back in her throne, she was speaking over her shoulder to Father Umphred.

Madouc said: "We met even before, long ago, in the Forest of Tantrevalles. At that time we were the same age! What do you think of that?"

Dhrun stared dumbfounded. At last, trying to keep his voice light, he said: "That meeting I do not recall."

"I expect not," said Madouc. "It was of very short duration. Probably we no more than looked at each other."

Dhrun grimaced. This was not a topic to be bruited about within the hearing of King Casmir. At last he found his voice. "How did you chance upon this extraordinary notion?"

Madouc grinned, clearly amused by Dhrun's perturbation. "My mother told me. You may rest easy; she also explained that I must keep the secret secure."

Dhrun heaved a sigh. Madouc knew the truth-but how much of the truth? He said: "Whatever the case, we can't discuss it here."

"My mother said that he-" Madouc jerked her head toward Casmir "-would kill you if he knew. Is that your understanding?"

Dhrun turned a furtive glance toward Casmir. "I don't know. We can't talk about it now."

Madouc gave an absent-minded nod. "As you like. Tell me something. Yonder stands a tall gentleman wearing a green cape. Like you he seems familiar, as if I have known him from some where before in my life. But I cannot remember the occasion."

"That is Shimrod the Magician. No doubt you encountered him at Castle Miraldra at the same time you met me."

"He has a most amusing face," said Madouc. "I think that I would like him."

"I am sure of it! He is an excellent fellow." Dhrun looked to the side. "I must move on; others are waiting to speak to you."

"There is still a moment or two," said Madouc. "Will you talk with me later?"

"Whenever you like!"

Madouc darted a glance toward Lady Desdea. "What I would like is not what they want me to do. I am supposed to be on display, and make a good impression, especially upon Prince Bittern and Prince Chalmes and those others who are trying to estimate my value as a spouse." Madouc spoke bitterly and the words came in a rush. "I like none of them! Prince Bittern has the face of a dead mackerel. Prince Chalmes struts and puffs and scratches his fleas. Prince Garcelin's fat belly wags back and forth as he walks. Prince Dildreth of Man has a tiny mouth with big red lips and bad teeth. Prince Morleduc of Ting has sores on his neck, and little narrow eyes; I think he has a bad disposition, but perhaps he has sores elsewhere, which pain him when he sits. Duke Ccnac of Knook Keep is yellow as a Tartar. Duke Femus of Gaiway has a roaring voice and a gray beard and he says he is willing to marry me now." Madouc looked at Dhrun sadly. "You are laughing at me!"

"Are all the persons you meet so distasteful?"

"Not all."

"But Prince Dhrun is the worst?"

Madouc compressed her lips against a smile. "He is not as fat as Garcelin; he is livelier than Bittern; he wears no gray beard like Duke Femus nor does he roar; and his disposition seems better than that of Prince Morleduc."

"That is because I have no sores on my rump."

"Still-taken all with all-Prince Dhrun is not the worst of the lot." From the corner of her eye, Madouc noticed that Queen Sollace had turned her head, and was listening to the conversation with both ears. Father Umphred, standing at her back, beamed and nodded his head, as if in enjoyment of some private joke.

Madouc gave her head a haughty toss and turned back to Dhrun. "I hope that we will have occasion to speak again."

"I will make sure that we do."

Dhrun rejoined Shimrod.

"So then: how did it go?" asked Shimrod.

"The formalities are complete," said Dhrun. "I congratulated Ca.s.sander, warned King Casmir, flattered Queen Sollace and conversed with Princess Madouc, who is far and away the most amusing of the lot, and who also had the most provocative things to say."

"I watched you with admiration," said Shimrod. "You were the consummate diplomat in every detail. A skilled mummer could have done no better!"

"Do not feel deprived! There is still time for you to present yourself. Madouc especially wants to meet you."

"Really? Or are you concocting a fanciful tale?"

"Not at all! Even from across the room she finds you amusing."

"And that is a compliment?"

"I took it for such, although I must say that Madouc's humor is somewhat wry and unexpected. She mentioned, quite casually, that she and I had met before, in the Forest of Tantrevalles. Then she sat grinning like a mischievous imp at my stupefaction."

"Amazing! Where did she gain the information?"

"The circ.u.mstances are not quite clear to me. Apparently she has visited the forest and met her mother, who provided the relevant facts."

"This is not good news. If she is as giddy and careless as her mother would seem to be, and lets the news slip to King Casmir, your life will at once become precarious. Madouc must be enjoined to silence."

Dhrun looked dubiously toward Madouc, now engaged with the Duke Cypris of Skroy and his lady, the d.u.c.h.ess Pargot. "She is not so frivolous as she appears, and surely she will not betray me to King Casmir."

"Still, I will caution her." Shimrod watched Madouc for a moment. "She deals graciously enough with those two old personages, who would seem to be rather tiresome."

"I suspect that the rumors about her are very wide of the mark."

"So it would seem. I find her quite appealing, at least from this distance."

Dhrun said pensively: "Someday a man will look deep into her blue eyes and there he will drown, and never be saved."

The Duke and d.u.c.h.ess of Skroy moved on. Madouc, noticing that she was the topic of discussion, sat as demurely erect on the gilt and ivory throne as ever Lady Desdea might have hoped. As it happened, she had made a favorable impression upon both Duke Cypris and Lady Pargot, and they spoke of Madouc with approval to their friends, Lord Uls of Glyvern Ware and his stately spouse Lady Elsiflor. "How the rumors have flown about Madouc!" declared Lady Pargot. "She is said to be bold as old vinegar and wild as a lion. I insist that the reports are either malicious or exaggerated."

"True!" stated Duke Cypris. "We found her as modestly innocent as a little flower."

Lady Pargot went on. "Her hair is like a tumble of bright copper; she is truly quite striking!"

"Still, the girl is thin," Lord Uls pointed out. "For adequacy and advantage, a female needs proper amplitude."

Duke Cypris gave qualified agreement. "A learned Moor has worked out the exact formula, though I forget the numbers: so many square inches of skin to so many hands in height. The effect must be sumptuous but neither expansive nor rotund."

"Quite so. That would be carrying the doctrine too far."