She took the shambling figure to the side chamber of the pavilion where Nisby and Sir Jaucinet sat staring into vacancy. "Enter; sit; do not move until I give the command."
Madouc stood in the moonlight for a moment, looking outupon the crossroads. She told herself: "I have succeeded, but now I am almost afraid to learn the truth. Sir Jaucinet seems the most noble, while the shadow is the most mysterious. There is little to be said for Nisby except his rustic simplicity."
She thought of the glamour. "It seems to make me more conspicuous than I like; for the nonce, I shall have done with it."
With the fingers of her left hand she tweaked the lobe of her right ear. "Is it gone?" she wondered. "I feel no change in myself." When she entered the pavilion, the demeanor of both Sir Pom-Pom and Travante assured her that the glamour had gone, which brought her a hurtful, if illogical, little twinge of something like regret.
V
In the morning Madouc, Sir Pom-Pom and Travante breakfasted within the pavilion. It was thought best that neither Nisby nor Sir Jaucinet be aroused to take nourishment for which they might or might not feel appetite. The same considerations applied even more persuasively to the shadowy figure in the black cloak, who by day was as bizarre incomprehensible as by night. Under the wide brim of his hat opened a void into which no one cared to look too closely.
After breakfast Madouc marshalled Nisby, Sir Jaucinet and the nameless shadow-thing out into the road. Sir Jaucinet's horse had broken loose during the night and was nowhere to be seen.
Madouc reduced the pavilion to a kerchief; the party set off to the south down Wamble Way, Sir Pom-Pom and Travante taking the lead, Madouc coming after, followed by Nisby, then Sir Jaucinet, and finally the individual in the black cloak.
Shortly before noon, the group once again entered Madling Meadow, which, as before, seemed only a grassy expanse with a hummock at the center. Madouc called softly: "Twisk! Twisk! Twisk!"
Mists and vapors confused their eyes, dissipating to reveal the fairy castle, with banners at every turret. The festival decorations celebrating Falael's rehabilitation were no longer in evidence; as for Falael, he had abandoned his post for the moment and sat under a birch tree to the edge of the meadow, using a twig to reach inaccessible areas of his back.
Twisk appeared beside Madouc, today wearing pale blue pantaloons riding low on her hips and a shirt of white diaphane. "You have wasted no time," said Twisk. She inspected Madouc's captives. "How the sight of those three takes me back in memory! But there are changes! Nisby has become a man; Sir Jaucinet seems dedicated to wistful yearning."
Madouc said: "It is the effect of his plaintive eyes and the long droop of his mustaches."
Twisk averted her eyes from the third member of the group. "As for yonder odd creature, King Throbius shall judge. Come; we must interrupt his contemplations, but that is the way of it."
The group trooped across the meadow to a place at the front of the castle. Fairies of the shee came from all directions: bounding, flitting, turning cartwheels and somersaults, to crowd close and babble questions; to pry, pinch and poke. From his place under the birch tree Falael came at a hop and a run, to mount his post the more readily to observe events.
At the main portal to the castle a pair of young heralds stood proudly on duty. They were splendid in livery of black and yellow diaper and carried clarions turned from fairy silver. At Twisk's behest they turned toward the castle and blew three briliant fanfares of coruscating harmonies.
The heralds lowered their horns and wiped their mouths with the back of their hands, grinning all the while at Twisk.
A silence of expectation held the area, broken only by the giggles of three implets who were trying to tie small green frogs into Sir Jaucinet's mustaches. Twisk chided the implets and sent them away. Madouc went to remove the frogs but was interrupted by the appearance of King Throbius on a balcony, fifty feet above the meadow. In a stern voice he called the heralds:
"What means this wanton summons? I was engrossed in meditation!"
One of the heralds called up to the balcony: "It was Twisk! She ordered us to disturb your rest."
The other herald corroborated the statement. "She told us to blow a great blast that would startle you from your bed to the floor."
Twisk gave an indifferent shrug. "Blame me, if you like; however, I acted on the insistence of Madouc, whom you may remember."
Madouc, with an injured glance toward Twisk, stepped forward. "I am here!"
"So I see! What of that?"
"Do you not remember? I went to Idilra Post that I might learn the identity of my father!" She indicated the three individuals at her back. "Here is Nisby the peasant, Sir Jaucinet the knight; also this mysterious shape of no category, nor yet any face."
"I remember the case distinctly!" said King Throbius. He looked across the area with disapproval. "Fairies! Why do you thrust and crush and press with such rude energy? One and all, stand back! Now then: Twisk! You must make a sure and careful inspection."
"One glance was enough," said Twisk.
"And your findings?"
"I recognize Nisby and Sir Jaucinet. As for the shadow, his face is invisible, which in itself is a significant index."
"It is indeed unique. The case has aspects of interest."
King Throbius stepped back from the balcony and a moment later came out upon the meadow. Again the fairies crowded about, to chortle and murmur, to mow and leer, until King Throbius issued orders so furious that his subjects shrank back abashed.
"Now then!" said King Throbius. "We will proceed. Madouc, for you this must be a happy occasion! Soon you will be able to claim one of these three for your beloved father."
Madouc dubiously considered the possibilities. "Sir Jaucinet undoubtedly boasts the best pedigree; still I cannot believe that I am related to someone who looks like a sick sheep."
"All will be made known," said King Throbius confidently. He looked to right and left. "Osfer! Where are you?"
"I have expected your call, Your Highness! I stand directly behind your royal back."
"Come forward, Osfer, into the purview of my eyes. We must exercise your craft. Madouc's paternity is in question and we must definitely resolve the issue."
Osfer stepped forward: a fairy of middle maturity, brown of skin and gnarled of limb, with eyes of amber and a nose which hooked almost to meet an up-jutting chin. "Sire, your orders?"
"Go to your workshop; return with dishes of Matronian nephrite, to the number of five; bring probers, nitsnips, and a gill of your Number Six Elixir."
"Your Highness, I presumed to anticipate your commands, and I already have these items at hand."
"Very good, Osfer. Order your varlets to bring hither a table; let it be spread with a cloth of gray murvaille."
"The order has been effected, Sire. The table stands ready at he your left hand."
King Throbius turned to inspect the arrangements. "Well done, Osfer. Now then: bring out your best extractor; we shall need fibrils of coming and going. When all is ready, we will contrive our matrices."
"In minutes only, Your Highness! I move with the speed of flashing nymodes when urgency is the call!"
"Do so now! Madouc is hard-put to restrain her eagerness; it is as if she were dancing upon thorns."
"A pathetic case, to be sure," said Osfer. "But soon indeed she will be able to embrace her father."
In a subdued voice Madouc spoke to King Throbius: "Enlighten me, Your Highness! How will you prove the case?"
"Be attentive; all will be made known. Twisk, why are you so exercised?"
"Osfer is molesting me!"
"Not so, Your Highness! You were about to order matrices; I had already started to apply the drain to Twisk."