Part 75 (1/2)

”In truth, I have nothing whatever, save only my golden vessel.”

Posm said quickly: ”You need not apologize; that should be adequate.”

”I agree,” said Pasm. ”It is a gift of great utility, unlike the more abstract gifts of the Princess Madouc and Travante the Sage.”

”There is a single difficulty,” said Sir Pom-Pom. ”I would no longer have a utensil from which to drink. If you were able to provide me a suitable replacement-just some ordinary or even antique chalice, of two handles, and I would prefer a blue color-then I might well use my own vessel as a host-gift.”

Pism called: ”Naupt? Where do you keep yourself? Are you asleep by the stove? You must do better in the future or it shall be the worse for you!”

”As always, I do my best, Your Honour!”

”Attend me! Sir Pom-Pom needs a utensil from which to drink. Provide him with an article to his taste.”

”Very good, Your Honour! Sir Pom-Pom, what are your needs?”

”Oh, just some rough old chalice, of two handles, pale blue in color.”

”I will inspect the closet, and perhaps I can discover a vessel to your taste.”

Naupt ran off and presently returned with a number of cups, mugs and a chalice or two. None suited Sir Pom-Pom. Some were too wide, others too narrow; some too heavy, others an unsuitable color. Naupt ran back and forth until the table was covered with drinking utensils.

Throop became testy. Posm acted as spokesman. ”Surely, Sir Pom-Pom, among this a.s.sortment is a vessel to meet your needs.”

”Not really. This one is too big. This one is too squat. This one is bedizened with unsuitable decorations.”

”Batasta, but you are fastidious in your drinking! We have no others to show you.”

”I might even accept something in the Irish style,” suggested Sir Pom-Pom.

”Ah,” cried Naupt. ”Remember that strange old chalice we took long ago from the Irish monk? Perhaps that might be in Sir Pom-Pom's style!”

”Just conceivably,” said Sir Pom-Pom. ”Fetch it here and let me see it.”

”I wonder where I stored the old piece,” mused Naupt. ”I believe it is in the cupboard beside the entrance to the dungeons.”

Naupt ran off, to return with a dusty old double-handled cup, of fair size, pale blue in color.

Madouc noticed that the rim was marred by a small chipped place, and that it otherwise resembled the drawing she had seen in the library at Haidion. She said: ”If I were you, Sir Pom-Pom, I would accept this old cup and not dither any longer, even though it is old and chipped, and of no value whatever.”

Sir Pom-Pom took the chalice in trembling hands. ”I suppose it will serve me well enough.”

”Good,” said Pasm. ”This affair of gifts and giving is now at an end, and we must take up other matters.”

Posm called to Naupt: ”Have you prepared a bill of damages?”

”Not yet, Your Honour!”

”You must include charges for the time we have wasted with the Princess Madouc and Travante the Sage. Sir Pom-Pom brought an article of value; both Madouc and Travante tried to befuddle us with talk and nonsense! They must pay the penalty for their deceit!”

Posm said: ”Put the onions into the pot and prepare the kitchen for our work.”