Jack Vance - MADOUC

Down the Sfer Arct came a strange conveyance: a large black catafaique borne on the shoulders of four running corpses, which at one time had used the names Izmael the Hun, Este the Sweet, Galgus of Dahaut and Kegan the Celt. On top of the catafaique stood a fifth corpse: the sallow young scout Idis, who now wielded a whip and slashed at the four running cadavers, urging them to their best efforts.

Nearer came the corpses carrying their elaborate burden. With wild sweeps of the whip Idis guided them into the King's Parade, while the aifrighted crowds drew back.

In front of the platform the runners tottered and collapsed. The catafalque fell to the stone flags and broke open; out rolled another corpse: Cory of Falonges.

VIII

The royal family of Blaloc took a last breakfast at Haidion in company with King Casmir and Queen Sollace. It was a sombre occasion. The two queens made polite conversation, but the two kings had little to say, and Prince Brezante sat moodily silent.

Princess Madouc had not appeared for breakfast but no one troubled to inquire in regard to her absence. After breakfast, with the sun now halfway up the sky, King Milo, Queen Caudabil and Prince Brezante exchanged final compliments with King Casmir and Queen Sollace and took their leave. King Casmir and Queen Sollace stepped out upon the terrace to watch the column depart.

Lady Vosse came from the castle and approached King Casmir. "Your Highness, I noticed the absence of Princess Madouc at the leave-taking and went to inquire the reason for her lassitude. In her chamber I found there this missive, which, as you see, is addressed to you."

King Casmir, frowning in automatic displeasure, broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. He read:

‘Your Royal Highness, my best respects!

In accordance with your commands I have set out to discover the name and condition of my father, and also the details of my pedigree. Your instructions were definite; I have commanded for myself the services of an escort. As soon as my goals have been achieved, I will return. I informed Queen Sollace of my intention to obey Your Majesty's orders in this matter. I depart immediately.

Madouc'

King Casmir looked blankly at Queen Sollace. "Madouc has gone."

‘Gone'? Where?"

"Somewhere-to seek her pedigree, so she says." Casmir slowly read the note aloud.

"So that is what the little vixen meant!" cried Sollace. "And now-what is to be done?"

"I must consider. Perhaps nothing."

An hour before dawn, with the castle silent, Madouc climbed from her bed. For a moment she stood indecisive, hugging herself and shivering to the cool air which played around her thin shanks. She went to the window; it seemed as if the day might be fair; still, at this dim hour the world seemed cheerless and unsympathetic. Doubts slid into Madouc's mind; could it be she was making a foolish, dreadful mistake?

Madouc shivered and hopped away from the window. Standing by her bed, she considered. Nothing had changed. She scowled and set her mouth into a firm line. Decisions had been made; they were irrevocable.

Madouc quickly dressed in a peasant boy's knee-length smock, bast stockings, ankle-boots, and a loose cloth cap pulled low to hide her curls. Taking up a small bundle of extra belongings, she left her chambers, stole along the dim corridor, descended the stairs and went from the castle by a back way, out into the pre-dawn stillness. She stopped to look and listen, but no one was abroad. So far, so good. She set off around the castle toward the stables. At the edge of the service-yard she paused in the shadows; only the most discerning eye could have identified this thin and furtive peasant boy as Princess Madouc.

In the kitchen scullions and fire-boys were astir; maids would soon be going out to the buttery. At the moment the service- yard was empty; Madouc darted across the open space and so made her way unchallenged to the stables. Here Sir Pom-Pom awaited her with a pair of horses saddled and ready. Madouc examined the horses without enthusiasm. To one side a sway- backed bay mare of advanced age, with one walleye and a tail woefully lacking in hair; to the other, a gray gelding almost as old, fat in the barrel and thin in the shank. Sir Pom-Pom had achieved well his stated purpose of avoiding prideful ostentation.

Madouc's saddle had been fitted on the bay mare; the gray gelding was evidently Sir Pom-Pom's chosen steed. Sir Pom-Pom himself wore not his usual garments, but a smart doublet of good blue cloth, a blue cap with a jaunty red feather, and a pair of glossy new boots, flaring modishly high past the knees and boasting pewter buckles at the insteps.

"Your garments are stylish," said Madouc. "You would seem almost dapper were it not that you still show the face of Sir Pom-Pom."

Sir Pom-Pom scowled. "My face cannot be changed."

"Were not those garments costly?"

Sir Pom-Pom gave a brisk jerk of the hand. "It is all relative. Have you not heard the saying: ‘When Need is on the march, Expense must step aside'?"

Madouc put on a sour face. "Whoever made up this nonsense was either a spendthrift or a fool."

"Not so! The saying is apt! To change over the gold pieces, I bought needful articles! One does not go forth on an important quest looking the hobbledehoy."

"I see. Where is the balance of the money?"

"I carry it in my wallet, for safekeeping."

Madouc extended her hand. "Give it here, Sir Pom-Pom, on the instant!"

Sir Pom-Pom sullenly reached in his pouch, brought out coins, which he handed over to Madouc. She reckoned up the sum, then looked back to Sir Pom-Pom. "Surely there is more money than this!"

"Possibly so, but I hold it for security."

"That is unnecessary. You may give me the full total of the exchange."

Sir Pom-Pom tossed over his wallet. "Take as you will."

Madouc opened it and counted the coins. "This surely is not all?"

"Bah!" grumbled Sir Pom-Pom. "Perhaps I still carry a few odd pieces in my pocket."

"Give them here-every last farthing!"

Sir Pom-Pom said with dignity: "I will retain one silver form and three copper pennies, for incidental expense." He passed over further coins. Madouc poured all into her pouch, and returned the wallet to Sir Pom-Pom. "We shall have an accounting later," said Madouc. "You have not heard the last of this, Sir Pom-Pom."

"Bah," muttered Sir Pom-Pom. "It is no great matter. Let us be on our way. The bay mare shall be your steed. Her name is Juno."

Madouc gave a sniff of disdain. "Her belly sags low! Will she support my weight?"

Sir Pom-Pom smiled grimly. "Remember, you are no longer a prideful princess! You are a vagabond."

"I am a prideful vagabond. Keep this in mind, if you will."

Sir Pom-Pom shrugged. "Juno has a kindly gait. She neither jibs nor shies, though she will take a fence no more. My own horse is Fustis. He was at one time a war-charger of note; he responds best to a firm seat and a strong hand." Sir Pom-Pom swaggered in his new boots over to Fustis; in a single brave bound he vaulted into the saddle. Madouc mounted Juno more deliberately, and the two set off up the Sfer Arct, into the hilly region north of Lyonesse Town.

Two hours along the way they arrived at the village Swally Water and here came upon a crossroad. Madouc read the sign. "To the east is the village Fring; we shall travel this lane to Fring and there veer north, and so come into Old Street."

"It is a longer route, by some miles," noted Sir Pom-Pom.

"Perhaps so, but by keeping to the back lanes we will tend to avoid anyone sent out to impede our journey."

Sir Pom-Pom grunted. "I thought that His Majesty had ratified your quest, and with all his heartfelt blessings."

"That is how I interpret his commands," said Madouc. "Still, I prefer to take nothing for granted."