Jack Vance: MADOUC

King Casmir's spouse was Queen Sollace, a large languid woman almost as tall as Casmir. She wore her fine yellow hair in bundles on top of her head, and bathed in milk, the better to nourish her soft white skin. Casmir's son and heir-apparent was the dashing Prince Cassander; also included in the royal family was Princess Madouc, purportedly the daughter of the tragic Princess Suidrun, now nine years dead.

Castle Haidion overlooked Lyonesse Town from the shoulder of a low rise, showing from below as an interlocked set of ponderous stone blocks, surmounted by seven towers of differing styles and shape: the Tower of Lapadius,* the Tall Tower** the King's Tower, the West Tower, the Tower of Owls, Palaemon's Tower, and the East Tower. The ponderous structure and the towers provided Haidion a silhouette which, if graceless, archaic and eccentric, was in total contrast to the fine façade of Falu Ffail at Avallon.

In much the same manner, the person of King Casmir contrasted with that of King Audry. Casmir was florid and seemed to throb with strong and ruddy blood. Casmir's hair and beard were mats of crisp blond ringlets. Audry's complexion was as sallow as ivory, and his hair was richly black. Casmir was burly, thick of torso and neck, with round china-blue eyes staring from a slab-sided face. Audry, while tall and ample of girth, was measured of posture and carefully graceful.

The court of neither king lacked for regal comfort; both enjoyed their perquisites, but while Audry cultivated the company of his favorites, of both sexes, Casmir knew no intimates and kept no mistresses. Once each week he paid a stately visit to the bedchamber of Queen Sollace, and there addressed himself to her massive and lethargic white body. On other less formal occasions, he made shift to ease himself upon the quivering body of one of his pretty pages.

The company Casmir liked best was that of his spies and informers. From such sources he learned of Aillas' intransigence at Poëlitetz almost as soon as had King Audry himself. The news, though it came as no surprise, aroused Casmir's vigorous displeasure. Sooner or later he intended to invade Dahaut, destroy the Daut armies and consolidate a quick victory before Aillas could effectively bring to bear his own power. With Aillas ensconced at Poëlitetz, the situation became more difficult, since Allias could instantly counterattack with Ulfish troops across the March and there would be no swift decision to the war. Definitely, the danger posed by the fortress Poëlitetz must be eliminated.

This was no sudden new concept. Casmir had long worked to foment dissension among the Ulfish barons, that they might enter upon a full-scale rebellion against the rule of their foreign king. To this end he had recruited Torqual, a renegade Ska turned outlaw.

The enterprise had yielded no truly gratifying results. For all Torqual's ruthlessness and cunning, he lacked tractability, which limited his usefulness. As the months passed, Casmir became impatient and dissatisfied; where were Torqual's achievements? In response to Casmir's orders, transmitted by courier, Torqual only demanded more gold and silver. Casmir had already disbursed large sums; further, he suspected that Torqual could easily meet his needs by means of plunder and depredation, thus saving Casmir unnecessary expense.

For conferences with his private agents, Casmir favored the Room of Sighs, a chamber above the armoury. In olden times, before construction of the Peinhador, the armoury had served as the castle's torture chamber; prisoners awaiting attention sat above in the Room of Sighs, where the sensitive ear-so it was said-might still detect plaintive sounds.

The Room of Sighs was bleak and stark, furnished with a pair of wooden benches, a table of oak planks, two chairs, a tray with an old beechwood flask and four beechwood mugs, to which Casmir had taken a fancy.

A week after receiving news of the impasse at Poëlitetz, Casmir was notified by his under-chamberlain, Eschar, that the courier Robalf awaited his convenience in the Room of Sighs.

Casmir at once took himself to the cheerless chamber over the armoury. On one of the benches sat Robalf-a person gaunt and thin-faced with darting brown eyes, sparse brown hair and a long crooked nose. He wore travel-stained garments of brown fust and a high-peaked black felt cap; upon the entrance of Casmir he jumped to his feet, doffed the cap and bowed. "Sire, I am at your service!"

Casmir looked him up and down, gave a curt nod and went to sit behind the table. "Well then, what is your news?"

Robaif responded in a reedy voice: "Sire, I have done your bidding, tarrying not a step along the way, pausing not even to empty my bladder!"

Casmir pulled at his chin. "Surely you did not perform this function on the run?"

"Sire, haste and duty make heroes of us all!"

"Interesting." Casmir poured wine from the beechwood flask into one of the mugs. He gestured toward the second chair. "Be seated, good Robaif, and divulge your tidings in comfort."

Robalf gingerly perched his thin haunches upon the edge of the chair. "Sire, I met with Torqual at the appointed place. I delivered your summons, that he must come to Lyonesse Town, using your words and speaking with your kingly authority. I bade him make ready at once, that we might ride the Trompada south together."

"And his response?"

"It was enigmatic. At first he spoke not at all, and I wondered if he had ever heard my voice. Then he uttered these words: ‘I will not go to Lyonesse Town.'"

"I remonstrated with all urgency, citing again Your Majesty's command. Torqual at last spoke a message for your ears."

"Ho ha!" muttered Casmir. "Did he now? What was the message?"

"I must warn, Sire, that he used little tact and scamped the appropriate honourifics."

"Never mind. Speak the message." Casmir drank from his beechwood mug.

"First of all, he sent his best and most fervent regards, and his hopes for Your Majesty's continued good health: that is to say, he addressed certain odd sounds to the wind and this is how I interpreted their sense. He then stated that only fear for his life precluded full and instant obedience to Your Majesty's instructions. He then made a request for funds either of silver or of gold, in quantity adequate to his needs, which he described as large."

Casmir compressed his lips. "Is that the whole of his message?"

"No, Sire. He stated that he would be overjoyed for the privilege of meeting with Your Majesty, should you deign to visit a place called Mook's Tor. He supplied directions for arriving at this place, which I will communicate as Your Majesty requires."

"Not at the moment." Casmir leaned back in the chair. "To my ears, this message carries a flavor of casual insolence. What is your opinion?"

Robalf frowned and licked his lips. "Your Majesty, I shall render my frank assessment, if that is what you wish."

"Speak, Robaif! Above all, I value frankness."

"Very well, Your Majesty. I apprehend in Torqual's conduct not so much insolence as indifference mixed with a dark twist of humour. He would seem to live in a world where he is alone with Fate; where all other persons, your august self and I as well, are no more than colored shadows, to use a flamboyant figure. In short, rather than indulging in purposeful insolence, Torqual cares nothing one way or another for your royal sensi bilities. If you are to deal with him, it must be on this basis. Such, at least, is my belief." Robalf looked sidewise toward Casmir, whose face gave no clue as to his emotions.

Casmir spoke at last, in a voice reassuringly mild. "Does he intend to do my bidding or not? That is the most important matter of all."

"Torqual is unpredictable," said Robalf. "I suspect that you will find him no more malleable in the future than in the past."