His visage is handsome, his address is fine;
His touch causes damsels to sigh and repine.
They beg his caress; at his parting they weep,
And they murmur his name full oft as they sleep.
The three passed sign and cobblestone path without so much as a pause, and continued northward along Wamble Way. With the sun halfway up the sky they arrived at the crossing with Munkins Road. Beside the intersection stood a massive iron post: almost a foot in diameter and eight feet tall.
Madouc surveyed the post with disfavor. "Taken all with all, the situation is not to my liking. But it seems that I must carry out my part in the charade, misgivings or not."
"Why else are you here?" growled Sir Pom-Pom.
Madouc deigned no reply. "I will now work the glamour upon myself!" She tweaked her left ear with the fingers of her right hand, then looked toward her companions. "Has the spell taken effect?"
"Noticeably," said Travante. "You have become a maiden of fascinating appeal."
Sir Pom-Pom asked: "How can you bind yourself to the post when we lack both chain and rope?"
"We will do without the binding," said Madouc decisively. "Should there be a question, I will make an excuse."
Travante uttered a caution: "Keep your magic stone ready at hand, and take care not to drop it!"
"That is good advice," said Madouc. "Go now and take yourselves well out of sight."
Sir Pom-Pom became difficult and wanted to hide nearby in the bushes, that he might see what went on, but Madouc would not listen. "Leave at once! Do not show yourselves until I call! Furthermore, do not be peeking and peering, inasmuch as you might be seen!"
Sir Pom-Pom demanded in sour tones: "What will you be doing that requires such privacy?"
"That is none of your affair!"
"I am not so sure of that, especially were I to earn the royal boon." Sir Pom-Pom showed a sly grin. "Even more especially since you control the glamour."
"The boon will not include me; rest easy on that score! Now go, or I will touch you with the pebble and send you off in a stupor!"
Sir Pom-Pom and Travante went off to the west along Mumkins Road and around a bend. They discovered a little glade a few yards from the road and seated themselves on a log where they could not be seen by passersby.
Madouc stood alone at the crossroads. She looked in all directions and listened carefully. Nothing could be seen or heard. She went to Idilra Post and gingerly seated herself at its base.
Time went by: long minutes and hours. The sun reached its zenith, then slid past into the west. There were neither comings nor goings, save only for the furtive appearance of Sir Pom-Pom, who came peering around the bend in Munkins Road that he might discover what, if anything, had taken place. Madouc sent him back the way he had come with a sharp rebuke.
Another hour passed. From the east came the faint sound of someone whistling. The tune was sprightly, yet somehow tentative as if the whistler were not completely confident or assured.
Madouc rose to her feet and waited. The whistling grew louder. Along Munkins Road came a young man, stocky and stalwart, with a broad placid face and a thatch of chestnut hair. His garments and soiled buckskins identified him as a peasant well acquainted with both pasture and barn.
Arriving in the crossroads he halted and surveyed Madouc with frank curiosity. At last he spoke: "Maiden, are you pent here against your will? I see no chain!"
"It is a magic chain, and I may not win free until three persons undertake my release, and this by an unconventional method."
"Indeed so? And what awful crime could have been committed by so lovely a creature?"
"I am guilty of three faults: frivolity, vanity and foolishness." The peasant spoke in puzzlement: "Why should they bring so stern a penalty?"
"That is the way of the world," said Madouc. "A certain proud person wished to become over-amiable, but I derided him and pointed out his lack of appeal. He ordained my humiliation, so here I wait upon the charitable attention of three strangers."
The young peasant came forward. "How many have assisted you to date?"
"You are the first to pass."
"As it happens, I am a man of compassion. Your plight has aroused my pity, and something else besides. If you will dispose yourself comfortably, we shall spend a merry interval, before I am obliged to return home to my cows and their milking."
"Step a bit closer," said Madouc. "What is your name?"
"I am Nisby of Fobwiler Farm."
"Just so," said Madouc. "Come just a bit closer."
Nisby stepped bravely forward. Madouc touched the pebble to his chin. Nisby at once became rigid. "Follow me," said Madouc. She led him off the road and behind a copse of bay berry trees. On the turf she laid the pink and white kerchief.
"Aroisus!"
The kerchief became a pavilion. "Enter," said Madouc. "Sit down on the floor; make neither sound nor disturbance."
Madouc returned to Idilra Post and seated herself as before. The hours passed slowly, and once again Sir Pom-Pom could not restrain his curiosity; Madouc saw the shine of his face through a growth of mullein plants. Pretending not to notice, she hissed softly through her teeth and activated the Tinkle-toe Imp-spring. Up from the mullein leapt Sir Pom-Pom, to bound a full three feet into the air. Madouc called out: "What are you up to now, Sir Pom-Pom, with your wild leaps? Did I not beg you to remain out of sight until I called?"
"I only wanted to make sure of your safety!" declared Sir Pom-Pom in a surly voice. "I did not intend to disturb you, no matter what you were up to; still, for some reason, I was forced to leap into the air."
"Please do not trouble yourself again," said Madouc. "Go back to where you left Travante."
Sir Pom-Pom departed with poor grace, and again Madouc disposed herself to wait.
Fifteen minutes passed. A jingling sound reached her ears. She rose to her feet and stood waiting. Down Wamble Way from the north came a creature running on eight splayed legs. Its head was like that of a great sea-horse, rearing high from a torso segmented of dark yellow plates. Astride the creature sat a faun with a crafty brown face, small horns, and lower limbs over grown with coarse brown fur. From his saddle and bridle hung a hundred small bells, which jingled to the gait of his bizarre steed.
The faun brought the creature to a halt and stared at Madouc. "Why do you sit so calmly by Idilra Post?"
"I am calm by nature."
"It is as good a reason as any. What do you think of my noble mount?"
"I have never seen such a creature before."
"Nor I, but it is docile enough. Will you ride at my back? I am bound for the isle in Kallimanthos Pond, where the wild grapes hang in purple tumbles."
"I must wait here."
"As you wish." The faun urged his steed into motion. He was soon out of sight, and his jingling gone from hearing.
The sun declined into the west. Madouc began to fret and wonder; she had no wish to sit by Idilra Post during the long hours of night.
From eastward along Munkins Road came the rumpety-tump rumpety-tump of galloping hooves. Just short of the crossroads the sound diminished as the horse slowed to a walk. A moment later a knight in half-armour, mounted on a fine bay horse, rode into view.
The knight drew up his horse. For a moment he studied Madouc, then dismounted and tied the horse to a tree. He lifted the helmet from his head and hung it to the saddle. Madouc saw a gentleman somewhat past his first youth, with lank yellow hair hanging beside a long mournful face. Heavy-lidded eyes droopedr at the corners; long yellow mustaches dangled to either side of his mouth, creating an impression of amiable impracticality. He turned to face Madouc and performed a courtly bow.
"Allow me to present myself. I am Sir Jaucinet of Castle Cloud, and a knight of full chivalry. May I inquire your name, your condition and why I find you in such dismal straits, standing as if in need of succor beside Idilra Post?"