"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 a.s.sistance; 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 pa.s.serby.
"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 subjected 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 a.s.sist 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, w.i.l.l.y-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."
lMadouc pulled at her right ear with the fingers of her left " hand. "Am I myself again?"
"Yes," said Sir Pom-Pom regretfully. "You are as usual."
Madouc heaved a sigh of relief. "With the glamour upon me I feel somewhat conspicuous."
King Throbius smiled. "You must learn to ignore it, since, in your case, the glamour is no more than a reflection of the near future." He looked up into the sky and signalled. Down flew a small green faylet with gauzy wings. King Throbius gave instructions: "Gather your cousins, fly hither and yon, ensure that all creatures of the neighborhood, save only three-headed Throop, Fuluot, Carabara, and Gois, learn the news of the decree which Bosnip will recite to you. Three especially must hear: Sir Jaucinet of Castle Cloud, the peasant Nisby, and the faceless creature who saunters abroad by moonlight wearing a broad-brimmed black hat."
The faylet was gone. King Throbius gave Madouc a grave salute. "I trust that our little scheme fulfills its purpose, without mistakes or inconvenience. In due course-" A sudden tumult from across the meadow attracted his attention. He spoke in amazement. "Can it be? Shemus and Womin, both officials of high degree, are at odds!"
King Throbius marched off across the meadow, so swiftly that the implets who carried his train were jerked from their feet and swept through the air.
King Throbius went to where a long table had been set with a variety of fine comestibles: ichors and wines in quaint gla.s.s bottles; pastries flavored with milkweed cream and the pollen of daffodil, b.u.t.tercup and crocus; tarts of currants both black and red; candied crab apples and jellies; the crystallized nectars of sweetbriar, rose and violet. Beside the table an altercation had suddenly been transformed into a confusion of shouts, blows and curses. The parties at contention were Womin, Registrar of Rightnesses, and Shemus, Conductor of Rituals. Shemus had seized Womin"s beard with one hand and was beating him over the head with a wooden mug, from which he had been drinking parsnip ale.
King Throbius spoke sharply: "Why this sordid moil? It is shameful conduct on a day of such happiness!"