The Complete Lyonesse Part 24

The two went out into the garden, where Glyneth led Dhrun from flower to flower, that he might find pleasure in the fragrance.

After an hour of going from plant to plant, sniffing and smelling, Dhrun became bored and stretched out on a patch of lawn, to doze in the suns.h.i.+ne, while Glyneth went to puzzle out the mystery of a sun dial.

Someone gestured from the side of the cottage; looking around, Glyneth saw Dame Didas, who instantly signaled her first to caution and silence, then beckoned her to come.

Glyneth slowly approached Dame Didas, in a fever of impatience, signaled her to haste. Glyneth moved forward more quickly.

Dame Didas asked, "What did Dame Melissa tell you about me?"

Glyneth hesitated, then spoke out bravely. "She said not to bother you; that you were very old and often irritable, or even a little, well, unpredictable."

Dame Didas gave a dry chuckle. "As for that, you'll have a chance to judge for yourself. In the meanwhile-now heed me, girl, heed me!-drink no milk with your supper. I will call to Dame Melissa; while she is distracted pour the milk into the sink, then pretend to have finished. After supper say that you are very tired and would like to go to bed. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Dame Didas."

"Disregard me to your peril! Tonight, when the house is quiet, and Dame Melissa has gone to her workroom, I'll explain. Will you heed me?"

"Yes, Dame Didas. If I may say so, you seem neither crabbed nor eery."

"That's a good girl. Until tonight then. Now I must hurry back to the weeds; they grow as fast as I'm able to pull them."

The afternoon pa.s.sed. At sunset Dame Melissa called them in to supper. On the kitchen table she placed a fresh crusty loaf, b.u.t.ter and a dish of pickled mushrooms. She had already poured mugs of milk for both Glyneth and Dhrun; there was also a milk jug if they wanted more.

"Sit down, children," said Dame Melissa. "Are your hands clean? Good. Eat as much as you wish; and drink your milk. It is fresh and good."

"Thank you, Dame Melissa."

From the drawing room came the voice of Dame Didas. "Melissa, come at once! I want a word with you!"

"Later, Didas, later!" But Melissa rose to her feet and walked to the doorway; instantly Glyneth poured out the milk from both mugs. She whispered to Dhrun: "Pretend to drink from the empty mug."

When Dame Melissa returned, both Glyneth and Dhrun were apparently in the act of draining the milk in their mugs.

Dame Melissa said nothing, but turned away and paid no more heed to them.

Glyneth and Dhrun ate a slice of crusty bread with b.u.t.ter; then Glyneth simulated a yawn. "We're both tired, Dame Melissa. If you'll excuse us, we'd like to go to bed."

"Of course! Glyneth, you may help Dhrun to his bed and you know your own room."

Glyneth, carrying a candle, took Dhrun up to the garret. Dhrun asked dubiously: "Aren't you afraid to be alone?"

"A little, but not too much."

"I'm no longer a fighter," said Dhrun wistfully. "Still, if I hear you cry out I'll be there."

Glyneth descended to her room and lay on the bed fully clothed. A few minutes later Didas appeared. "She's in her workroom now; we have a few moments to talk. To start, let me say that Dame Melissa, as she calls herself, is a dire witch. When I was fifteen years old, she gave me drugged milk to drink, then transferred herself into my body-that which she wears today. I, a fifteen-year-old girl, was housed in the body Melissa had been using: a woman about forty years old. That was twenty-five years ago. Tonight she will change my forty-year-old body for yours. You will be Dame Melissa and she will be Glyneth, only she will wield power and you will end your days as a serving woman like me. Dhrun will be put to work carrying water from the river to her orchard. She is in her workroom now preparing the magic."

"How can we stop her?" asked Glyneth in a shaking voice.

"I want to do more than stop her!" spat Didas. "I want to destroy her!"

"So do I-but how?"

"Come with me; quick now!"

Didas and Glyneth ran out to the pig-sty. A young pig lay on a sheet. "I've washed it and drugged it," said Didas. "Help me carry it upstairs."

Once in Glyneth's room they dressed the pig in a nightgown and a mob-cap, and lay it in the bed, face to the wall.

"Quick now!" whispered Didas. "She'll be on her way. Into the closet!"

They had barely shut themselves in when they heard footsteps on the stairs. Dame Melissa, wearing a pink gown and carrying a red candle in each hand, entered the room.

Above the bed a pair of censers hung from hooks; Melissa touched fire to them and, smouldering, they gave off an acrid smoke.

Melissa lay down on the bed beside the pig. She placed a black bar across her neck and the neck of the pig, then spoke an incantation: I into thee!

Thou into me!

Straitly and swiftly, let the change be!

Bezadiah!

There was a sudden startled squealing as the pig discovered itself in the undrugged body of Melissa. Didas sprang from the closet, dragged the pig to the floor, and pus.h.i.+ng the erstwhile Melissa to the wall lay beside her. She arranged the black bar from across her neck to that of Melissa. She inhaled the smoke from the censers and uttered the incantation: I into thee!

Thou into me!

Straitly and swiftly, let the change be!

Bezadiah!

At once the pig's frightened squealing came from the body of the crone Didas. Melissa arose from the bed and spoke to Glyneth: "Be calm, child. All is done. I am once more in my own body. I have been cheated of my youth and all my young years, and who can make rest.i.tution? But help me now. First we'll take the old Didas down to the sty, where at least it will feel secure. It is a sick old body and soon will die."

"Poor pig," muttered Glyneth.

They led the creature once known as Didas down to the sty and tied her to a post. Then, returning to the bedroom, they carried out the body of the pig which was beginning to stir. Melissa tied it securely to a tree beside the cottage then drenched it with a pan of cold water.

At once the pig regained consciousness. It tried to speak, but its tongue and oral cavity made the sounds incomprehensible. It began to wail, in terror and grief.

"So there you are, witch," said the new Dame Melissa. "I don't know how I look to you through a pig's eyes, or how much you can hear through a pig's ear, but your witching days are at an end."

Next morning Glyneth awoke Dhrun with a report of the previous night's events. Dhrun felt somewhat aggrieved because of his exclusion from the affair, but held his tongue.

The legitimate Dame Melissa prepared a breakfast of fried perch fresh from the river. While Dhrun and Glyneth ate, the butcher's apprentice came to the door. "Dame Melissa, you have stock to sell?"

"True, quite true! A fine yearling sow, for which I have no need. You'll find her tied to a tree at the back. Ignore the strange sounds it makes. I'll settle accounts with your master on my next visit into town."

"Exactly so, Dame Melissa. I noticed the animal as I arrived and it seems in prime condition. With your permission, I'll be away and about my duties." The butcher's boy departed and presently could be seen through the window, leading the squealing pig down the road.

Almost immediately after, Glyneth said politely: "I think that we also had better be on our way, as we have far to go today."

"You must do as you think best," said Dame Melissa. "There is much work to be done, otherwise I would urge you to visit with me somewhat longer. One moment." She left the room and presently returned with a gold piece for Dhru'n and another for Glyneth. "Please do not thank me; I am overcome with joy to know once more my own body, which has been so misused."

For fear of disturbing the magic force resident in the old purse, they tucked the gold coins into the waistband of Dhrun's trousers, then, bidding Dame Melissa farewell they set off along the road.

"Now that we're safely out of the forest, we can start to make plans," said Glyneth. "First, we'll find a wise man, who'll direct us to one even wiser, who'll take us to the First Sage of the Kingdom, and he will chase the bees from your eyes. And then..."

"And then what?"

"We shall learn what we can of princes and princesses, and which might have a son named Dhrun."

"If I can survive seven years bad luck, that will be enough."

"Well then, one thing at a time. March now! Forward, step, step, step! Ahead is the village and if we can believe the signpost, its name is Wookin."

On a bench before the village inn an old man sat whittling long yellow-white curls from a length of green alder.

Glyneth approached him somewhat diffidently. "Sir, who is considered the wisest man in Wookin?"

The old man ruminated for the s.p.a.ce required to shave two exquisitely curled shavings of alder-wood. "I will vouchsafe an honest response. Mind you now, Wookin appears placid and easy, but the Forest of Tantrevalles looms nearby. A dire witch lives a mile up the road and casts her shadow across Wookin. The next village along the way is Lumarth, at a distance of six miles. Each of these miles is dedicated to the memory of the robber who only a week ago made that mile his own, under the leaders.h.i.+p of Janton Throatcut. Last week the six gathered to celebrate Janton's name day, and they were captured by Numinante the Thief-taker. At Three-mile Crossroad you will still discover our famous and most curious landmark, old Six-at-a-Gulp. Directly north, barely outside the village, stands a set of dolmens, arranged to form the In-and-Out Maze, whose origin is unknown. In Wookin reside a vampire, a poison-eater, and a woman who converses with snakes. Wookin must be the most diverse village of Dahaut. I have survived here eighty years. Do I then need to do more than declare myself the wisest man of Wookin?"

"Sir, you would seem to be the man we seek. This boy is Prince Dhrun. Fairies sent golden bees to buzz circles in his eyes, and he is blind. Tell us who might cure him, or failing that, whom we might ask?"

"I can recommend no one near at hand. This is fairy magic and must be lifted by a fairy spell. Seek out Rhodion, king of all fairies, who wears a green hat with a red feather. Take his hat and he must do your bidding."

"How can we find King Rhodion? Truly, it is most important."

"Even the wisest man of Wookin cannot rive that riddle. He often visits the great fairs where he buys ribands and teazles and other such kickshaws. I saw him once at Tinkwood Fair, a merry old gentleman riding a goat."

Glyneth asked: "Does he always ride a goat?"

"Seldom."

"Then how does one know him? At fairs one finds merry gentlemen by the hundreds."

The old man shaved a curl from his alder switch. "There, admittedly, is the weak link in the plan," he said. "Perhaps you might better be served by a sorcerer. There is Tamurello at Faroli and Quatz by Lullwater. Tamurello will demand a toilsome service, which might require a visit to the ends of the earth: once more a flaw in the scheme. As for Quatz, he is dead. If you could by some means offer to resuscitate him, I daresay he would commit himself to almost anything."

"Perhaps so," said Glyneth in a subdued voice. "But how-"

"Tut tut! You have noticed the flaw. Still, it well may yield to clever planning. So say I, the wisest man of Wookin."

From the inn came a stern-faced matron. "Come, grandfather! It is time for your nap. Then you may sit up tonight for an hour or two, because the moon rises late."

"Good, good! We are old enemies, the moon and I," he explained to Glyneth. "The wicked moon sends rays of ice to freeze my marrow, and I take pains to avoid them. On yonder hill I plan a great moon-trap, and when the moon comes walking and spying and peeping for to find my window, I'll pull the latch and then there'll be no more of my milk curdled on moony nights!"

"And high time too, eh, grandfather? Well, bid your friends goodby and come along to your nice neat's foot soup."

In silence Dhrun and Glyneth trudged away from Wookin. At last Dhrun spoke: "Much of what he said made remarkably good sense."

"So it seemed to me," said Glyneth.

Just beyond Wookin, the Murmeil River swung to the south, and the road went through a land partly wooded, partly tilled to barley, oats and cattle fodder. At intervals placid farmsteads drowsed in the shade of oaks and elms, all built of the local gray trap and thatched with straw.

Dhrun and Glyneth walked a mile, then another, meeting in all three wayfarers: a boy leading a team of horses; a drover with a herd of goats and a wandering tinker. Upon the fresh country air crept a taint, which grew stronger: first in breaths and whiffs, then in sudden and violent power, so heavy and rich that Glyneth and Dhrun stopped short in the road.

Glyneth took Dhrun's hand. "Come, we'll move quickly and so be past the sooner."

The two trotted along the road, holding their breaths against the stench. A hundred yards further they came to a crossroad, with a gallows to the side. A signboard, pointing east-west, north-south read: BLANDWALLOW: 3 TUMBY: 2 WOOKIN: 3 LUMARTH: 3.

From the gallows, gaunt across the sky, dangled six dead men.

Glyneth and Dhrun hurried past, to stop short once more. On a low stump sat a tall thin man with a long thin face. He wore somber garments but went hatless; his hair, dead black and straight, clung to his narrow scalp.

Glyneth thought both the circ.u.mstances and the man somewhat sinister and would have pa.s.sed along the road with no more than a polite greeting, but the man lifted a long arm to stay them.

"Please, my dears, what is the news from Wookin? My vigil is now three days old and these gentlemen died with uncommonly stiff necks."

"We heard no news, sir, save that regarding the death of six bandits, which you must know."

"Why are you waiting?" asked Dhrun, with disarming simplicity.

"Ha hwee!" The thin man contrived a thin high-pitched chuckle. "A theory propounded by the savants a.s.serts that every niche in the social structure, no matter how constricted, finds someone to fill it. I admit to a specialized occupation, which in fact has not so much as acquired a name. Not to put too keen an edge on it, I wait under gallows until the corpse drops, whereupon I a.s.sume possession of the clothes and valuables. I find little compet.i.tion in the field; the work is dull, and I will never become wealthy, but at least it is honest, and I have time to daydream."

"Interesting," said Glyneth. "Good-day, sir."

"One moment." He appraised the still shapes above him. "I thought to have number two today for sure." He took up an implement which leaned against the gallows: a long pole with a forked end. He pressed the rope immediately above the knot and gave a vigorous shake. The cadaver hung as before. "My name, should you choose to know it, is Nahabod, and sometimes I am known as Nab the Narrow."

"Thank you, sir. And now if you don't mind, we'll be going."

"Wait! I have an observation to make which you may find interesting. Yonder, number two in order, hangs old Tonker the carpenter, who drove two nails into his mother's head: stiff-necked to the end. Notice"-he pointed with his pole, and his voice became somewhat didactic-"the purple bruise. This is usual and ordinary for the first four days. Then a crimson flush sets in, followed by this chalky pallor, and which indicates that the object is about to descend. By these signals I judged Tonker ripe. Well, enough for today. Tonker will fall tomorrow and after him Pilbane the Dancer, who robbed along the highway for thirteen years, and would have been robbing today had not Numinante the Thief-taker discovered him asleep and Pilbane danced one last jig. Next is Kam the farmer. A leper walked in front of his six fine milch-cows, at this very crossroads, and all six went dry. Since it is unlawful to shed a leper's blood, Kam drenched him with oil and set him ablaze. It is said the leper bounded from here to Lumarth using only fourteen strides. Numinante read the law over-rigorously and now Kam dangles in mid-air. Number six on the end, is Bosco, a chef of good repute. For many years he suffered the foibles of old Lord Tremoy. One day, in a spirit of mischief, he urinated into his lords.h.i.+p's soup. Alas! the deed was witnessed by three pot-boys and the pastry chef. Alas! there hangs Bosco!"

Glyneth, interested in spite of herself, asked: "And the next?"

Nab the Narrow rapped the dangling feet with his pole. "This is Pirriclaw, a robber with an extraordinary set of perceptions. He could stare at a likely prospect-like this"-here Nab shot his head forward and fixed his eyes upon Dhrun-"and like this!" He turned the same penetrating glance upon Glyneth. "In that instant he was able to divine the place where his prospect carried his or her valuables, and a useful sleight it was!" Nab gave his head a shake of regretful nostalgia for the pa.s.sing of so marvelous a talent.

Dhrun's hand crept to his neck, to ensure the safety of his amulet; almost without thinking Glyneth touched her bodice where she had hidden the magic purse.

Nab the Narrow, still contemplating the cadaver, seemed not to notice. "Poor Pirriclaw! Numinante took him in his prime, and now I wait for his garments-with antic.i.p.ation, I may add. Pirriclaw dressed in only the best and demanded triple-st.i.tching. He is of my general proportion, and perhaps I will wear the garments myself!"

"And what of the last corpse?"

"Him? He amounts to little. Cloth buskins, clothes thrice mended and lacking all style. This gallows is known as Six-at-a-Gulp. Both law and custom forbid the hanging of five or four or three or two or one from the ancient beam. A fleering ne'er-do-well named Yoder Gray Ears stole eggs from under Widow Hod's black hen, and Numinante decided to make an example of him, and also make a sixth for old Six-at-a-Gulp; and for the first time in his life Yoder Gray Ears served a useful purpose. He went to his death, if not a happy man, at least a person whose life has yielded a final fulfillment, and not all of us can make this claim."

Glyneth nodded dubiously. Nab's remarks were becoming a trifle too rhapsodic and she wondered if he might be amusing himself at their expense. She took Dhrun's arm. "Come along; it's still three miles to Lumarth."

"A safe three miles now that Numinante has swept so clean," said Nab the Narrow.

"One last question. Can you direct us to a fair where wise men and magicians gather?"