Part 66 (1/2)
”I have never seen such a creature before.”
”Nor I, but it is docile enough. Will you ride at my back? I am bound for the isle in Kallimanthos Pond, where the wild grapes hang in purple tumbles.”
”I must wait here.”
”As you wish.” The faun urged his steed into motion. He was soon out of sight, and his jingling gone from hearing.
The sun declined into the west. Madouc began to fret and wonder; she had no wish to sit by Idilra Post during the long hours of night.
From eastward along Munkins Road came the rumpety-tump rumpety-tump of galloping hooves. Just short of the crossroads the sound diminished as the horse slowed to a walk. A moment later a knight in half-armour, mounted on a fine bay horse, rode into view.
The knight drew up his horse. For a moment he studied Madouc, then dismounted and tied the horse to a tree. He lifted the helmet from his head and hung it to the saddle. Madouc saw a gentleman somewhat past his first youth, with lank yellow hair hanging beside a long mournful face. Heavy-lidded eyes droopedr at the corners; long yellow mustaches dangled to either side of his mouth, creating an impression of amiable impracticality. He turned to face Madouc and performed a courtly bow.
”Allow me to present myself. I am Sir Jaucinet of Castle Cloud, and a knight of full chivalry. May I inquire your name, your condition and why I find you in such dismal straits, standing as if in need of succor beside Idilra Post?”
”You may ask, certainly,” said Madouc. ”I would gladly answer in full were it not that dusk is coming on, and the sooner I am finished with my deplorable duty the better.”
”Well spoken!” declared Sir Jaucinet. ”I take it that I can be of a.s.sistance?”
”True. Be kind enough to approach. No; you need not remove your armour as of this particular instant.”
”Are you sure?” asked Sir Jaucinet doubtfully.
”Quite sure, if you will only come a few steps closer.”
”With pleasure! You are a most beautiful maiden; let me kiss you!”
”Sir Jaucinet, under different conditions I would consider you extremely forward, or even brisk. But still . . .
Sir Jaucinet stepped close and in due course joined Nisby inside the pavilion. Madouc resumed her vigil. The sun sank low, and once again Sir Pom-Pom showed himself, now brazenly in the middle of the road. He called: ”How long must we dawdle here? Darkness approaches; I do not want to mingle with creatures of the night.”
”Come then,” said Madouc. ”Bring Travante; the two of you may sit in the pavilion.”
Sir Pom-Pom and Travante hastened to follow the suggestion, and now it was discovered that the pavilion had added to itself another chamber, where Nisby and Sir Jaucinet sat in conditions of apathy.
The sun disappeared behind the trees. Madouc stretched her cramped muscles, walked three paces in all directions, looked up each road, but vision blurred in the gathering dusk and she discovered nothing. Madouc went back to the post, and stood with uneasiness tweaking at her nerves. Twilight shrouded the Forest of Tantrevalles. For a period Madouc watched the bats wheeling and darting overhead. As twilight waned and the sky went dark, then brightened in the east as the moon rose into the sky.
Madouc s.h.i.+vered to a waft of cool air. She wondered if she truly wanted to stand by Idilra Post in the wan moonlight. Probably not. She brooded over the reasons why she had come, and she thought of Nisby and Sir Jaucinet secure in the pavilion: two of the three. Madouc sighed and looked apprehensively in every direction. All color was gone, blanched by the moonlight. The roads were silver-gray; shadows were black.
The moon rose up the sky. An owl drifted across the forest and was briefly silhouetted upon the face of the moon. Madouc saw a shooting star. From far off in the forest came an odd hooting sound.
The moving shadow Madouc had been expecting came along the road, advancing step by slow step. Fifteen feet from the post it halted. A black cloak m.u.f.fled the body; a broad-brimmed hat shaded the face. Madouc shrank back against the post, tense and quiet. The shadowed figure stood motionless. Madouc drew a slow breath. She peered, trying to discern a face under the hat but saw nothing. The area was blank, as if she were looking into a void.
Madouc spoke, her voice tremulous: ”Who are you, dark of shadow?”
The shape made no response.
Madouc tried again: ”Are you dumb? Why will you not speak?”
The shadow whispered: ”I have come to succor you from the post. Long ago I did the same for the willful fairy Twisk, to her great content. You shall be allowed the same comfort. Remove your garments, that I may see your form in the moonlight.”
Madouc gripped the stone so tightly that she feared she might drop it, which would never do. She quavered: ”It is considered genteel for the gentleman to divest himself first.”