Part 12 (2/2)

But, once they were inside, Dido's escorts were not allowed to proceed any farther. They were firmly shown into the waiting-room with the shrunken heads, and only Dido was permitted to climb the stair and continue into the great throne-room where Queen Ginevra reclined on her day-bed.

'Dearest child!' Her Majesty greeted Dido with a wide but languid smile. Like many of her subjects, Queen Ginevra had a set of silver teeth. 'So kind of you to come so quickly in answer to my summons,' she added, swallowing a handful of pills.

'I only come when you said,' Dido replied matter-of-factly.

'Touchingly considerate. You guessed I might be feeling lonely. Ah, no one can guess, though, the depth of my loneliness. Yet people are so kind to me! They all indulge me my dear, dear subjects!' The queen threw up her eyes in roguish amazement. Dido stood looking at her silently.

'Do take a seat, my dear. Ah . . . the steps . . . a trifle hard .. . let's see .. . perhaps a cus.h.i.+on . . .'

Groping feebly among her draperies, Queen Ginevra at length found a small grey bolster. Using as little energy as possible, she nudged it over the edge of the couch, so that it rolled down the steps and landed at Dido's feet. It appeared to be made of cobwebs. Rather gingerly, Dido sat on it.

'Now we can have a lovely gossip,' said the queen. 'I want to hear all about you.'

What she really meant was that she wanted to talk about herself; she embarked on a long and rambling history of her childhood. 'My father was a darling man; utterly devoted to me; but what chance did he have? None. Mother saw to it that he spent all his time at the Saxon wars, and he died when I was only seven. And she I'm sorry to have to say it but she had a really hateful nature. She could be a perfect fiend! I've always been sorry that Quondam (that's my pet name for Arthur, you know) and I didn't have any children; I longed for a child, to make up to her for all I had to suffer . . .

'However when my darling Rex Futurus comes back again, then perhaps . . .'

Her voice trailed away dreamily. Dido, staring at the queen, thought she seemed much too old to have children; although her skin was strangely smooth, as if constantly anointed with nouris.h.i.+ng creams, there were deep, deep wrinkles round her eyes; and her puffy hands were spotted like two pale toads. There was something even odder about her today than on the previous visit: hazy, disjointed; Dido wondered if she were a trifle bosky?

'Do you think the king will come soon?' Dido inquired politely, wondering where all this was leading.

'I'm sure he will, dear; as soon as you get back my stolen lake for me, sweet child! And then we shall all be so happy! I hope you will stay with us and be our dear little guest. But in the meantime I want you to be a real friend to me; I can see how very perceptive you are, my love, and that is so rare! I have had various little friends among the c.u.mbrian children, but their intelligence is not of a high order.'

'There don't seem to be many kids at all in this country,' said Dido, wondering if this was why Queen Ginevra's army was depleted, and if the queen would say anything about Aurocs, and if it would be wise to mention the safe-conduct across the frontier.

'. . . Unfortunately . . . no . . . that is so. But when my dear Quondam returns, all will be different. Meanwhile, we have to count our little blessings as best we can,' said Queen Ginevra, receiving a silver bowl of gruel from Doctor Jones, who handed it to her with a deep ceremonious bow, casting a sharp glance at Dido as he did so. 'My evening collation,' the queen explained graciously to Dido. 'It is such a treat to chat to a young friend while I partake of it; nothing is quite so tedious as to eat a nuncheon alone.'

She dipped a spoon into the gruel, which was of a very thick consistency, and perfectly white.

'Bone porridge, dear,' she informed Dido. 'Prescribed by my doctor. When you have a life as full of trials and sorrows as mine, your meals must be light, but very sustaining.'

The porridge (though it looked exceedingly nasty) reminded Dido that she was hungry too.

'Your Royalty,' she said, having glanced round to make sure that Dr Jones was out of earshot (but who knew how many listeners were hiding behind the curtains), 'I reckon I will go on that errand to King Mabon, that is, if you still wants me to? So if you'd jist give me that travel permit you said as how '

The queen looked for a moment almost disappointed. What might have been a flash of irritation pa.s.sed over her face.

'Permit?' she replied vaguely. 'Permit, child?'

'To climb Mount Damyake and see where the lake was pinched from. And then,' said Dido doggedly, 'go on to King Mabon, like you said.'

'You are sure you want to do that? It is so enjoyable,' said the queen, 'to have you here and get to know you. One so seldom gets to know anyone really well. A person that one knows well,' she added obscurely, 'can do one so much more good than a stranger.'

This queen, thought Dido, is as nutty as old great-aunt Bella. Only thing to do is to humour her. Like Aunt Bella used to shout, 'The end is coming!' on Battersea Bridge, and the only way to get her home was to agree.

'I can come back and see you again,' she said. 'Arter King Mabon's sent back your lake.'

'Ah,' said the queen. 'True. But I wonder,' she murmured to herself, 'I wonder if I am being practical? Will Mabon return the lake? Or should I keep the bird in hand two birds in hand should I forget about Arian-rod? But then, my dear Quondam sweet Quondam -how could I be sure of his return?

'When you have waited a very long time for someone,' she said, fixing Dido with a gla.s.sy eye, 'your mind becomes tired perplexed you hardly know what to do for the best.'

Dido, remembering nutty old Aunt Bella, became a little sorry for the queen.

'Don't you worry, Ma'am,' she said kindly. 'I daresay he'll turn up all right and tight.'

Suddenly the. queen's face became suffused with dusky colour, turned to a mask of rage.

'You expect he will turn up!' she hissed. 'Who are you, to predict when the Pendragon will see fit to return? Here! Take this!' And she contemptuously tossed down her silver porringer, which, more or less by chance, Dido caught. When she looked up again, she saw that the queen had put on a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles, through which, to judge by the angle of her face, she was staring at Dido. Dido could not be sure, because the lenses were like two small mirrors; they threw back reflections of the grey-curtained room, but the queen's eyes could not be seen behind them. Oneway gla.s.s, Dido thought; what a naffy notion!

'Now I will show you what you are worth,' said the queen bitingly. 'Look at yourself in the side of that dish.'

The silver bowl was highly polished; yet, rather to her surprise, Dido could not find her own reflection in its curved side, either upside down or the right way up.

'Not there?' Ginevra's voice was mocking now. 'Nor in my gla.s.ses?' She leaned towards Dido, who peered warily at the two s.h.i.+ning discs. 'Not there either? How about in this?' She pa.s.sed Dido a small hand-mirror, its silver back and frame encrusted with diamonds. That, too, showed the long shadowy room with its cobweb hangings; but no Dido.

'Rum lot o' looking-gla.s.ses you got round here,' said Dido, firmly, to cover a most uncomfortable feeling inside her.

'Blockhead! The gla.s.s is not at fault. I have destroyed your image, don't you see? And I can do the same with you, yourself. It only '

Perhaps fortunately, a voice was heard at this moment, calling, 'Make way, there, make way, for the Queen's Mistress of the Robes!'

Queen Ginevra calmed down. Her freckled hands, which had been shaking, relaxed; two red spots disappeared from her cheeks; she began to smile again and tucked her chin, what there was of it, among her draperies.

'Dear me! Talking politics!' she said. 'That will never do.' Looking over Dido's shoulder she remarked, 'Dearest Ettarde! Just when I need you, as ever. Advise me.'

Turning round, Dido saw, without joy, that the dressmaker was approaching, accompanied, at a respectful distance, by her two a.s.sistants. All three were dressed very elegantly, in spangled lace gowns over silk petticoats, with feathers in their high coiffures, and silver-embroidered velvet cloaks. The two a.s.sistants still wore their black loo-masks. All three curtseyed deeply. Lady Ettarde, tiny and hunchbacked, looked grotesque, like some overdressed doll. She clambered up the steps of the dais.

'Your Royal Mercy,' she said. 'How can I help you?'

'Counsel me about this child,' said the queen. 'Should I send her off to Mabon and get the lake back? Or -or keep her here?'

Lady Ettarde turned and stared at Dido disparagingly, from brogans to threadbare jacket. Dido, trying to look nonchalant, stuck her hands (one of them holding the little mirror) into her pockets. It was some comfort, at this moment, to remember that she still had the cat's whiskers knotted round her index finger.

'You said as how if I went to King Mabon you'd let out Cap'n Hughes,' she began.

The ladies ignored this.

'Madam,' said the dressmaker, 'you would be well advised not to keep her here. The child is a troublemaker. She has a bad horoscope. Send her where she can be of use. What need to keep a sparrow when you have a bird of paradise?'

'Blister me!' muttered Dido. n.o.body heeded her.

'Besides dear lady! Think! Only this year according to the astologers' predictions this very year if all goes well your n.o.ble quondam lord will be restored to you.'

'They predicted other years as well. If I could be sure . . .' murmured the queen.

'Then Your Royal Highness will have no further need of birds. His presence will restore you like the sun's rays on a growing plant.'

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