Elder Isles - Madouc Part 27

"Never! But there is more! At the same time I thought to hear a faint sound issuing from Her Highness! A hiss, almost inaudible."

"It might have been an expression of shock or surprise," mused Queen Sollace.

"So it might seem. I will cite another incident, which occurred yesterday morning, as Princess Madouc took breakfast with Devonet and Chiodys. There was an exchange of banter and the usual giggling. Then as I watched dumbfounded, Devonet lifted the milk jug, that she might pour milk into her bowl. Instead, her hand jerked and she poured the milk across her neck and chest, and all the while her teeth were chattering like castanets. Finally she dropped the jug and rushed from the room. I followed, that I might learn the reason for her strange convulsion. Devonet declared that the Princess Madouc had prompted her to the act by uttering a soft hiss. There was no real provocation, according to Devonet. She informed me: 'I only said that while b.a.s.t.a.r.ds might wet into silver chamber pots, they still lacked the most precious of all, a fine pedigree!' I asked: 'And then what?' 'And then I reached for the milk jug; I lifted it and poured milk all over myself, while Madouc sat grinning and making a hissing sound.' And that is what happened to Devonet."

Queen Sollace sucked at her fingers, then wiped them on a damask napkin. "It sounds to me like simple carelessness," said Queen Sollace. "Devonet must learn to grasp the jug more firmly."

Lady Desdea gave a scornful sniff. "And what of Princess Madouc's cryptic grin?"

"Perhaps she was amused. Is that not possible?"

"Yes," said Lady Desdea grimly. "It is possible. But, once again, listen to this! As a penalty, I a.s.signed Her Highness double lessons: in orthography, grammar, needlework and dancing; also special texts in genealogy, astronomy, the geometries of Aristarchus, Candasces and Euclid. I also a.s.signed readings from the works of Matreo, Orgon Photis, Junifer Algo, Panis the lonian, Dalziel of Avallon, Ovid and one or two others."

Queen Sollace shook her head in bemus.e.m.e.nt. "I found Junifer always a bore, nor could I make head nor tail of Euclid."

"I am sure Your Majesty was more than clever at your lessons; it reveals itself in your conversation."

Sollace looked off across the room, and did not respond until she had thoroughly masticated another fig. "Well then: what of the readings?"

"I deputed Chlodys to attend Madouc as she read, to make sure that she was supplied the proper texts. This morning Chlodys reached to take a fine volume of Dalziel from the shelf and felt a spasm come over her, which caused her to throw the book high into the air and set her teeth to chattering. She came running to me in complaint. I took Princess Madouc for her dancing lesson. The musicians set up a nice tune; Master Jocelyn declared that he would now demonstrate the step he wished the princess to learn. Instead he jumped six feet into the air, with his feet twirling and toes pointed as if he were a dervish. When at last he descended to the floor, Madouc said that it was a step she did not care to try. She asked me if I cared to demonstrate the step, but there was something in her smile which prompted me to refuse. Now, I am at my wit's end."

Queen Sollace accepted a fig from the maid. "That will be all; I am almost sated with these wonderful morsels; they are as sweet as honey!" She turned to Lady Desdea. "Proceed as before; I can advise you no better,"

"But you have heard the problems!"

"It might be coincidence, or fancy, or even a bit of hysteria. We cannot let such silly panics affect our policy."

Lady Desdea cried another protest, but Queen Sollace held up her hand. "No, not another word! I have heard all I care to hear."

The drowsy days of summer pa.s.sed: fresh dawns, with dew on the lawns and bird calls floating through the air from far distances; then the bright mornings and golden afternoons, followed by orange, yellow and red sunsets; then the blue-gray dusk and at last the starry nights, with Vega at the zenith, Antares to the south, Altair in the east and Spica declining in the west. Lady Desdea had discovered a convenient way to deal with Madouc since her unproductive and frustrating report to Queen Sollace. She spoke in a grim monotone, a.s.signing the lessons and stating the schedule, then with a scornful sniff and a stiff back she departed and gave no further heed either to Madouc or her achievements. Madouc accepted the system and pursued only the reading which interested her. Lady Desdea, in her turn, discovered that life had become less of a trial. Queen Sollace was content to hear no more of Madouc's transgressions, and in her conversations with Lady Desdea avoided all reference to Ma douc.

After a week of relative placidity, Madouc delicately mentioned 'Tyfer and his need for exercise. Lady Desdea said crossly: "The proscription derives not from me but from Her Majesty. I can grant no permission. If you ride your horse, you risk the queen's displeasure. But it is all one to me."

"Thank you," said Madouc. "I feared that you might be difficult."

"Ha hah! Why should I beat my head against a rock?" Lady Desdea started to turn away, then halted. "Tell me: where did you learn that opprobrious little trick?"

"The 'Sissle-way'? It was taught to me by Shimrod the Magician, that I might defend myself against tyrants."

"Hmf." Lady Desdea departed. Madouc at once took herself to the stables, where she ordered Sir Pom-Pom to saddle up Tyfer and prepare for an excursion across the countryside.

CHAPTER FiVE.

Shimrod rode in company with Dhrun to Lyonesse Town, where Dhrun, with Amery, took pa.s.sage to Domreis aboard a Troice cog. Shimrod watched from the quayside until the tawny sails dwindled across the horizon, then went to a nearby inn and seated himself in the shade of a grape arbor. Over a platter of sausages and a mug of ale he considered the possibilities of the next few days and what might lie in store for him.

The time had come when he must take himself to Swer Smod, that he might confer with Murgen and learn whatever needed learning. The prospect did not lift his spirits. Murgen's dreary disposition blended well with the somber and darkling atmosphere of Swer Smod; his sour smile was equivalent to another man's wild frivolity. Shimrod knew well what to expect at Swer Smod and prepared himself accordingly; had he discovered good cheer and merrymaking, he would have wondered as to Murgen's sanity.

Shimrod left the arbor and went to a baker's booth, where he bought two large honeycakes, each packed in a reed basket. One of the cakes was sprinkled with chopped raisins, the other was cast over with nuts. Shimrod took up the cakes and stepped around to the back of the booth. The baker, a.s.sured that Shimrod had gone to relieve himself, ran out to remonstrate. "Hold hard, sir! Go elsewhere for such business! I want no great chife in the air; it is poor advertis.e.m.e.nt!" He halted, looking right and left. "Where are you, sir?" He heard a mutter, a whimper, a rush of wind. Something whisked up at a blur and away from his vision, but of Shimrod there was naught to be seen.

Slow of foot the baker returned to the front of his booth but told no one of the event, for fear of being thought over-imaginative.

II.

Shimrod was transported to a stony flat high on the slopes of the Teach tac Teach, with the panorama to the east swathed under the Forest of Tantrevalles out to the edge of vision. The walls of Swer Smod rose at his back: a set of ma.s.sive rectangular shapes, meshed and merged, stacked and layered, with three towers of unequal height rising about all, like sentinels surveying the landscape.

Shimrod's approach to the castle was obstructed by a stone wall eight feet high. At the portal hung a sign he had not seen before. Black symbols conveyed a daunting admonition:

WARNING!.

TRESPa.s.sERS! WAYFARERS! ALL OTHERS!.

ADVANCE AT RISK!.

If you cannot read these words, cry out 'KLARO!'

and the sign will declare the message aloud.

PROCEED NO FARTHER, AT PERIL OF DEATH!.

In case of need, consult Shimrod the Magician, at his manse Trilda, in the Great Forest of Tantrevalles.

Shimrod halted at the portal and surveyed the yard beyond. Nothing had changed since his last visit. On guard were the same two gryphs: Vus, mottled moss-green, and maroon-red Vuwas, whose color was that of old blood, or raw liver. Both stood eight feet tall, with ma.s.sive torsos clad in plaques of h.o.r.n.y carapace. Vus displayed a crest of six black spikes, to which, in his vanity, he had affixed a number of medals and emblems. Vuwas wore across his scalp and down the nape of his neck a stiff brush of black-red fibers. Not to be outdone by Vus, he had attached several fine pearls to this bristle. Vus and Vuwas, at this moment, sat beside their sentinel box, hunched over a chessboard wrought from black iron and bone. The pieces stood four inches high, and cried out as they were moved, in derision, shock, outrage, or occasionally approval. The gryphs paid no heed to the comments and played their own game.

Shimrod pushed through the iron gate and entered the fore court. The gryphs glared hot-eyed over their p.r.o.nged shoulders. Each ordered the other to rise up and kill Shimrod; each demurred. "Do you take me for a fool?" demanded Vuwas. "In my absence, you would make three illicit moves and no doubt abuse my pieces. It is you who must do your duty, and at this very moment."

"Not I!" said the moss-green Vus. "Your remarks merely indicate what you yourself have in mind. While I killed this sheep-faced fool, you would push my reignet into limbo and baffle my darkdog into the corner."

Vuwas growled to Shimrod over his shoulder: "Go away; it is simpler for everyone. We avoid the trouble of killing you, and you need not worry about arranging your affairs."

"Out of the question," said Shimrod. "I am here on important business. Do you not recognize me? I am Murgen's scion Shimrod."

"We remember nothing," grunted Vuwas. "One earthling looks much like another."

Vus pointed to the ground. "Wait where you stand until we finish our game. This is a critical juncture!"

Shimrod sauntered over to inspect the chessboard. The gryphs paid him no heed.

"Ludicrous," said Shimrod after a moment.

"Hist!" snarled Vuwas, the maroon-red gryph. "We will tolerate no interference!"

Vus looked around challengingly: "Do you intend insult? If so, we will tear you limb from limb on the spot!"

Shimrod asked: "Can a cow be insulted by the word 'bovine'? Can a bird be insulted by the word 'flighty'? Can a pair of b.u.mbling mooncalves be insulted by the word 'ludicrous'?"

Vuwas spoke sharply: "Your hints are not clear. What are you trying to tell us?"

"Simply that either of you could win the game with a single move."

The gryphs glumly examined the board. "How so?" asked Vus.