Part 18 (1/2)
”It has come too late,” gloomed Madouc. ”Poor Pymfyd lies dead in the ditch, and all through my insistence upon the Flauhamet fair!”
Twisk made an airy gesture. ”Did you strike Pymfyd dead?”
”No, Mother.”
”Then you need feel no remorse.”
Madouc's distress was not fully relieved. ”All very well, but Ossip and Sammikin who struck the blows feel no remorse either! They beat poor Pymfyd till the blood gushed; then they chased me and stole Tyfer. I have met you and I am overjoyed for this reason, but at the same time I grieve for Pymfyd and Tyfer.”
Zocco chuckled. ”Just like a female, singing both ba.s.s and falsetto with the same breath!”
Twisk turned Zocco a glance of mild inquiry. ”Zocco, did you speak?”
Zocco licked his lips. ”An idle thought, no more.”
”Since you lack occupation, perhaps you will look into the vexations which Madouc has described.”
Zocco said peevishly: ”I see no reason to oblige either you or your unappealing brat of a daughter.”
”The choice is yours,” said Twisk graciously. She spoke to to Madouc: ”Wefkins are unimaginative. Zocco, for instance, envisions a future of blissful ease, with never a pang of discomfort.
Right or wrong?”
”He is wrong indeed.”
Zocco jumped to his feet. ”I find that I have a few moments to spare. It will do no harm to take a cursory look around the landscape, and perhaps make an adjustment or two.”
Twisk nodded. ”Please report your findings on the instant!” Zocco was gone. Twisk examined Madouc from head to toe. ”This is an interesting occasion. As I mentioned, I had almost forgotten your existence.”
Madouc spoke stiffly: ”It was not very nice of you to give me away, your own darling little child, and take another in my place.”
”Yes and no,” said Twisk. ”You were not as darling as you might like to think; indeed, you were something of a rippet. Dhrun was golden-haired and sweet-natured; he gurgled and laughed, while you screamed and kicked. It was a relief to be rid of you.”
Madouc held her tongue; reproaches, clearly, would serve no useful purpose. She spoke with dignity: ”I hope that I have given you reason to change your opinion.”
”You might have turned out worse. I seem to have gifted you with a certain queer intelligence, and perhaps an inkling of my own extravagant beauty, though your hair is a frowst.”
”That is because I have been running through the woods in terror and hiding under a rotten log. If you like, you may give me a magic comb, which will order my hair at a touch.”
”A good idea,” said Twisk. ”You will find it under your pillow when you return to Sarris.”
Madouc's mouth dropped. ”Am I to return to Sarris?”
”Where else?” asked Twisk, somewhat tartly.
”We could live together in a pretty little castle of our own, perhaps beside the sea.”
”That would not be practical. You are quite suitably housed at Sarris. But remember: no one must learn of our meeting - King Casmir, in particular!”
”Why so? Though I had no intention of telling him.”