Madouc

Sir Pom-Pom squinted off into the sunlight. "The proposition, on the surface, seems reasonable. Still, what if our quests lead in different directions?"

Madouc brushed aside the objection. "Why borrow trouble? Obviously we cannot anticipate every quirk of Fate before we have even made our preparations."

Sir Pom-Pom put on a stubborn frown. "I still feel that we should agree on a plan."

"Tush," said Madouc. "More than likely, the question will never arise. If so, we shall deal with it then and there."

"All this to the side," growled Sir Pom-Pom, "I would feel easier if I had definite orders from the mouth of the king himself."

Madouc gave her head a decisive shake. "I have been granted leave to go, with no restrictions; that is enough. I do not want to re-open the discussion and risk some foolish qualification."

Sir Pom-Pom turned a dubious glance over his shoulder. "It is true that I have long-standing orders to attend you wherever you ride, and they have never been revoked. If I choose to retain my employment, the king has charged me to follow where you go, and serve you as best I may. When do you wish to depart?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Impossible! It is already late in the day; I will not be able to make the preparations!"

"Very well. We will leave on the morning of the day after tomorrow, half an hour before dawn. Have Tyfer saddled and ready, and also a horse for yourself."

"Now then," said Sir Pom-Pom, "we must think clearly in this regard. Even though you claim that His Majesty has given you leave to go off on this venture, is it possible that he might have spoken in haste, or that he might change his mind?"

"Anything is possible," said Madouc haughtily. "I cannot trouble myself with every swing of the weathercock."

"What if he suddenly discovers that his beloved Madouc is missing and sends off his knights and his heralds to bring her back? They would have an easy time of it if you were mounted on the dappled pony Tyfer, with the costly saddle and fringed reins. No, Princess! We must ride as might the children of peasants; our horses must attract no attention; otherwise we may well be home and in disgrace long before we arrive even so far as Frogmarsh."

Madouc tried to argue that Tyfer, with his dappled coat, was of a sort to blend among the shadows of a landscape and was hence inconspicuous, but Sir Pom-Pom would hear nothing of it. "I will select the proper mounts; you need think no more on the subject."

"If that is how it must be, so shall it be," said Madouc. "Still, you must pack the saddlebags well, with bread, cheese, dried fish, raisins, olives and wine. You will obtain these victuals from the royal pantry, which you will enter by crawling through the back window, as you well know through long experience. Bring weapons, or at least a knife to cut cheese and an axe to hew wood. Do you have any questions?"

"What of money? We cannot go skiting the countryside over without good silver coins."

"I will carry three gold pieces in my wallet. This should amply suffice for our needs."

"So it should, were we able to spend them."

"The gold is good round gold, soft and yellow, even though it derived from Shimrod."

"Of that I have no doubt, but how will you spend such gold? To buy a wisp of hay for the horses? Or a plate of beans for our own nourishment? Who would give us back our proper exchange? They might well take us for thieves and clap us into the nearest dungeon."

Madouc looked off across the stable-yard. "I had not considered along these lines. What must be done?"

Sir Pom-Pom made a wise signal. "Luckily, I know how to deal with the problem. Fetch here your three gold pieces, as soon as possible."

"Oh?" Madouc raised her eyebrows in puzzlement. "What then?"

"It so happens that I need a pair of boots, stout and proper, flared at the knee after the new mode, each with a suitable buckle. I will purchase the boots, which are needful for the journey, and I will pay with a gold piece. The cobbler must provide the exchange in silver and copper, which then we may use for our expenses."

Madouc glanced at the buskins currently worn by Sir Pom Pom. "You seem adequately shod."

"Still, we ride abroad, and must maintain our dignity!"

"What is the cost of these elegant new boots?"

"A silver form!" blurted Sir Pom-Pom in scorn. "Is it really so much when one demands both style and quality?"

Madouc heaved a sigh. "I suppose not. What of the other two gold pieces?"

"Have no fear! I will contrive a plan which will serve our purposes! But you must bring me the gold at once, that I may start negotiations!"

"As you wish, but work to good effect! We must leave Haidion before something happens to change our plans!"

Sir Pom-Pom, still dubious in regard to the venture, looked around the stable-yard. "Where will be our first destination?"

"We go first to Thripsey Shee, where I will take counsel with my mother."

Sir Pom-Pom gave a grudging nod. "She might even have news of the Holy Grail."

"That is possible."

"So be it!" declared Sir Pom-Pom with sudden energy. "I am not one to ignore the call of Destiny!"

"Brave words, Sir Pom-Pom! I am of like mind."

Sir Pom-Pom turned Madouc a sly and waggish grin. "If I win the boon, I will then be entitled to wed the royal princess!"

Madouc pursed her lips against a smile. "I do not know about that. But surely you would be received at court, where you could choose a spouse from among my maids-in-waiting."

"First I must possess myself of the Grail," said Sir Pom- Pom. "Then I will make my own choice. But as of this moment, fetch the gold, and I will see to my business."

Madouc ran at speed to her chambers. She brought out the three gold coins from a secret place under her bed and took them to the stables. Sir Pom-Pom hefted their weight, examined them on both sides, bit upon them and at last was satisfied.

"Now I must run down into town for my boots. When you make ready, dress as a peasant. You can not safely go abroad as the proud Princess Madouc."

"Very well! I will meet you at the appointed time. Take care not to get caught in the pantry!"

As Madouc returned to her chambers she was accosted by Lady Vosse, who spoke in sharp tones: "Where have you been? Are you devoid of all sense of duty?"

Madouc looked up in wonder, mouth innocently adroop. "What have I done this time?"

"Surely you remember! I instructed you myself! You must remain in attendance upon our guests! That is proper etiquette. It is also the wish of the queen."

"It is the queen who invited these folk here, not I," grumbled Madouc. "Go rouse the queen from her own bed."

Lady Vosse stood back, momentarily at a loss for words. Then, rallying, she subjected Madouc to an examination, nose drawn up in distaste. "Your gown is soiled and you reek of horse! I might have known that you were at the stables! Quick then! To your chamber and into something fresh-perhaps your new blue frock. Come now, on the run! There is no time to waste!"

Ten minutes later Madouc and Lady Vosse arrived on the platform, where King Milo and Queen Caudabil were observing the stone-throw competition, though with little attention.

As noon approached, stewards began to set out a collation of cold beef and cheese on a trestle at the back of the platform, so that King Milo and Queen Caudabil could enjoy the sports with no interruption for a full-scale repast. Taking note of these preparations, Milo and Caudabil conferred in low voices, then Milo suddenly clutched his side and set up a hollow groaning.

Queen Caudabil called out to Sir Mungo the Seneschaclass="underline" "Alas! King Milo has suffered a seizure! It is his old complaint! We will be unable to enjoy any more games and competitions! He must retire at once to our quarters for rest and proper treatment!"