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."
Sir Pom-Pom gave the remark careful thought, then said, somewhat glumly: "I hope that I find the Holy Grail before we need to test your interpretation."
Madouc deigned no reply.
At noon the two passed through Fring and, finding no lane leading northeast, continued eastward across a pleasant country side of farms and meadows. Presently they arrived at the town Abatty Dell where a fair was in progress. At Sir Pom-Pom's urging, they dismounted, tethered their horses to a rail at the front of the inn, and went to watch the clowns and jugglers performing in the square. Sir Pom-Pom gave a cry of amazement. "Look yonder! That man in the red hat just now thrust a blazing torch down his throat! Look! He does so again! It is a marvel! His gut must be iron, from top to bottom!"
"An unusual talent, indeed," said Madouc.
Sir Pom-Pom's attention was caught by another performance. "See there! It is finesse, full and true! Aha, did you see? That was a goodly thrust!"
Madouc, turning to look, saw a man and a woman lying on their backs about fifteen feet apart. With thrusts of their feet they propelled a small child back and forth through the air between them, lofting the child higher and even higher with each passage. The child, undersized, and wearing only a ragged breechclout, jerked and twisted desperately in mid-air so that he might alight buttocks-first on the coiled legs of the target-individual. This person, after catching the child with dexterous feet, thrust out legs to propel him back through space the way he had come.
Upon conclusion of the display the man cried out: "Mikelaus will now accept your gratuities!" The child ran among the spectators holding out his cap for coins.
"Ha hah!" exclaimed Sir Pom-Pom. "That trick deserves a farthing!" He reached in one of his side-pockets and brought forth a copper coin which he dropped into the soiled cap extended by Mikelaus. Madouc watched with raised eyebrows.
The three performers went on to another feat. The man placed a flat board two feet long on top of an eight-foot pole; the woman lifted Mikelaus so that he crouched on the board. The man thrust the pole high, with Mikelaus precariously balanced on top. The woman joined a second pole to the first; Mikelaus was raised even higher, the man controlling the swaying pole with sidling movements. The woman added a third extension to the pole; Mikelaus was raised twenty feet into the air. Gingerly he rose and stood on the board, atop the swaying pole. The woman sounded a flourish of tones on a set of pipes and Mikelaus chanted a song in a reedy rasping voice:
Ecce voluspo, Sorarsio normal, Radne malengro.
Oh! Oh! Toomish! Geltner givim.
(The woman blew a flourish on the pipes.)
Bowner buder diper, Eljus noop or bark, Esgracio delila.
Oh! Oh! Toomish! Silvish givim.
(The woman blew a flourish on the pipes.)
Slova solypa, Trater no bulditch, Ki-yi-yi minkins.
Regular toomish. Copriote givim.
The woman blew a final flourish and called out: "Bravo, Mikelaus! Your song has moved us all and you well deserve a liberal reward! Now you may descend! So then: ooops! Ah la la la! And away!"
The man ran forward three short steps, heaved on the pole; Mikelaus hurtled through the air. The woman ran below with a net, but along the way she tripped over a dog and Mikelaus, consternation on his face, struck the ground headfirst, to tumble over and over a distance of twenty feet.
The woman put a good face on the mistake. "Next time we will surely do better! Now then, Mikelaus: to business!"