Part 53 (2/2)
”I have heard it as well. Tomorrow I relinquish my post as royal stable-attendant and lackey to the princess. On the following day I will seize time by the forelock and go in search of the Holy Grail, or any other relic I can lay my hands upon. It may well be the opportunity of my lifetime.”
Madouc gave a slow nod. ”I understand your ambition. But is it not sad that you must give up your good and secure employment to go out chasing a will-o'-the-wisp? To me it seems an act of reckless folly.”
”So it may be,” said Sir Pom-Pom doggedly. ”Still, such chances for fame and fortune come rarely. One must grasp them as they pa.s.s.”
”Quite so. Still, I might help you have the best of both worlds were you to moderate your churlish behavior.”
Sir Pom-Pom looked around in cautious interest. ”How so and to what degree?”
”You must swear to hold secret what I am about to tell you.”
”Hm. Will this secret involve me in trouble?”
”I think not.”
”Very well. I will hold my tongue. I have done so before and I suppose I can do so again.”
”Listen then! The king has ordered me to go forth in search of my pedigree, and without delay. Admittedly he was in a state of exasperation when he spoke, but his orders were explicit, and included the service of a suitable escort. Therefore, I command that you serve me in this capacity. If you obey, you will retain your employment and still be able to seek the Holy Grail.”
Sir Pom-Pom squinted off into the sunlight. ”The proposition, on the surface, seems reasonable. Still, what if our quests lead in different directions?”
Madouc brushed aside the objection. ”Why borrow trouble? Obviously we cannot antic.i.p.ate every quirk of Fate before we have even made our preparations.”
Sir Pom-Pom put on a stubborn frown. ”I still feel that we should agree on a plan.”
”Tush,” said Madouc. ”More than likely, the question will never arise. If so, we shall deal with it then and there.”
”All this to the side,” growled Sir Pom-Pom, ”I would feel easier if I had definite orders from the mouth of the king himself.”
Madouc gave her head a decisive shake. ”I have been granted leave to go, with no restrictions; that is enough. I do not want to re-open the discussion and risk some foolish qualification.”
Sir Pom-Pom turned a dubious glance over his shoulder. ”It is true that I have long-standing orders to attend you wherever you ride, and they have never been revoked. If I choose to retain my employment, the king has charged me to follow where you go, and serve you as best I may. When do you wish to depart?”
”Tomorrow morning.”
”Impossible! It is already late in the day; I will not be able to make the preparations!”
”Very well. We will leave on the morning of the day after tomorrow, half an hour before dawn. Have Tyfer saddled and ready, and also a horse for yourself.”
”Now then,” said Sir Pom-Pom, ”we must think clearly in this regard. Even though you claim that His Majesty has given you leave to go off on this venture, is it possible that he might have spoken in haste, or that he might change his mind?”
”Anything is possible,” said Madouc haughtily. ”I cannot trouble myself with every swing of the weatherc.o.c.k.”
”What if he suddenly discovers that his beloved Madouc is missing and sends off his knights and his heralds to bring her back? They would have an easy time of it if you were mounted on the dappled pony Tyfer, with the costly saddle and fringed reins. No, Princess! We must ride as might the children of peasants; our horses must attract no attention; otherwise we may well be home and in disgrace long before we arrive even so far as Frogmarsh.”
Madouc tried to argue that Tyfer, with his dappled coat, was of a sort to blend among the shadows of a landscape and was hence inconspicuous, but Sir Pom-Pom would hear nothing of it. ”I will select the proper mounts; you need think no more on the subject.”
<script>