Visbhume scratched his long nose. Fast travel was a lore which he must inveigle from Tamurello, when circumstances were favorable. To date, Tamurello had revealed nothing whatever; indeed his attitude was often ambiguous, and his tart comments had hurt Visbhume deeply, so that now Visbhume felt reluctant to seek help from Tamurello for fear of another hurtful rebuff.
Yet, where else could he turn? The fairies were the most capricious of creatures; to win their favor, or to gain their knowledge, one must entertain them, or delight their senses, or arouse their avarice, or perhaps only their curiosity. Or their fear.
Visbhume reflected at length, to no effect, and presently went to his couch.
In the morning, he attacked his quandary again. "I am Visbhume!" he told himself. "I am the clever, the clear-eyed, the bold! I am Visbhume the magician who pipes up the dawn and marches through life with his forehead wreathed in rainbows, riding the surge of a glorious music!"
But then, using another voice, he told himself: "Quite so and all very well, but in the present case, exactly how shall I exercise my power?"
No response vouchsafed itself, from either of the voices. Halfway through the morning, as he sat on the bench, he was approached by a burly black-bearded Moor garbed in turban and djellaba. The Moor stood looking down at him with quizzical amusement and presently said: "So then, Visbhume! How goes it?"
Visbhume looked up sharply, then said: "Sir, you have the advantage of me. Are we truly acquainted?"
The Moor chuckled. "Ask yourself, Visbhume, who knows of your presence in Lyonesse Town?"
"They are three: King Casmir, his servant Rosko, and a certain other person whose name need not be mentioned, by reason of discretion."
"Might ‘Tamurello' be the name which, in your wise restraint, you do not choose to mention?"
"Precisely so." Visbhume studied the black-bearded face. "This is an unfamiliar semblance."
Tamurello nodded. "As a matter of fact, it is close to my natural likeness, and therefore comfortable. You seem to be at loggerheads. What is your difficulty?"
Visbhume explained his problem in all frankness. "King Casmir commands that I draw information from the fairies, and I sit here among a dozen procedures, none of which serve the purpose. If truth be known, I fear fairy-tricks. They will transform me into a heron, or pull my nose out a clothyaid's length, or send me riding across the sky in a whirlwind."
"The dangers are real," said Tamurello. "To avoid them you must use the skill of a lover with his coy mistress, or else seduce them with marvels."
"All very well," bleated Vishbume, "but how?" Tamurello looked off across the harbour. After a moment he said: "Go to the market, and buy eight skeins of red yarn and eight skeins of blue yarn, and bring them here; then we shall see."
Visbhume marched swiftly away to do Tamurello's bidding. He returned to find Tamurello sitting at his ease on the bench. Visbhume started to sit also, but Tamurello made a signal. "There is room only for one. You may sit presently. Show me the yarn... . Aha, that will do splendidly. You must wind the red yarn into a ball, and the blue yarn into another ball. I have here a bobbin apparently carved from a maple burl; observe it, if you will." Tamurello exhibited an object about two inches in diameter. "You will notice that it is perforated by a hole, and indeed is not truly made of wood."
"What then might it be?"
"A clever little creature which has received my instructions. Now listen with all attention! Do exactly as I say; otherwise you must come to grief, and fly Madling Meadow as a heron or, more likely, a crow; the fairies at times are over-mordant in their humour."
"You need never worry; when I listen I hear and what I hear I retain forever, since my memory is like a record carved into stone!"
"A useful trait. Go to Madling Meadow, and show yourself about two hours after sunrise. At the center of the meadow you will notice a hummock. From its side grows a crooked old oak tree. This is Thripsey Shee.
"Go out on the meadow, heeding neither sounds, nor yet blows, tweaks, nor pinches: they are meaningless. The fairies idly amuse themselves, and will not truly harm you, unless you give them reason, by kicking or cursing or simply glaring about. Go with pleasant dignity, and in their curiosity they will not think even to harass you.
"When you arrive at the crooked oak tree, tie one end of the red yarn to a branch, then come back toward a pair of birch saplings, trading the red yarn along the meadow behind you.
"Arriving at the birch saplings, toss the ball of red yarn between the trunks. Do not walk through yourself. Then thread the end of the blue yarn through the hole in the bobbin and knot it, so that it will not pull through. Toss the blue yarn after the red, then utter the words which I will now teach you." Tamurello spoke aside to the bobbin: "Do not heed me now; I speak in rehearsal only. Visbhume, attention! At the proper time, utter this charge: ‘Bobbin, be at your business!' Then stand back. Do not watch the bobbin; do not look between the trees. Is so much clear?"
"Absolutely, and in every respect. What then?"
"I cannot predict. If the fairies ask questions you must say: ‘Who talks? Show yourself; no wise man reveals his wisdom to the air!' Then, after they show themselves you must deny knowledge of the shee, so that they may not accuse you of special purpose. When they ask what you have wrought, you must say: ‘This is a nexus into Hai-Hao, but nothing can pass without my permission.'"
"Is this truly so?" asked Visbhume, charmed by the wonderful concept.
"What matters is, will the fairies believe you? The question is nuncupatory."
"Suppose in all innocence I should swindle them, and they remember and send out owls to haunt me, as they did poor Tootleman of Hoar Hill?"
"The point is well taken! However, the nexus is real but perdurable only so long as the wind allows."
Visbhume asked further questions, exploring contingencies until at last Tamurello grew restive, and rose to depart.
"One last matter!" cried Visbhume. "If they will respond to my questions, perhaps they will grant me other favors, such as a Hat of Wisdom, or Fast Shoes, or a Purse of Plenty to supply my needs."
"Ask as you like," said Tamurello, smiling in a manner which Visbhume felt might be somewhat contemptuous. "A word of caution, however: the fairies are notably unsympathetic in regard to greed." With this, Tamurello rose from the bench and strolled away, across the square and up the Sfer Arct.
Visbhume looked darkly after him. Tamurello's manner was not always gracious and kindly, as befitted a true comrade. ... Ah well, when all was said and done, Tamurello was no doubt a worthy fellow. One must be prepared for quirks and crotchets; that was indeed the essence of friendship.
The day being still young, Visbhume also set off up the Sfer Arct. At Haidion he sought out Resko the under-chamberlain. "I am the gentleman Visbhume. His Majesty has granted me a purse of gold and silver coins, a horse of fine quality, with proper furniture, and all else needful. By the king's command, you are instructed to fulfill these requirements."
"Wait here," said Rosko. "I must verify every detail of this request."
"That is insulting!" stormed Visbhume. "I shall report you to King Casmir!"
"Report away!" said Rosko and went off to instruct the groom.
An hour later Visbhume rode north from Lyonesse Town astride a stately white mare with a wide rump and a hanging head. In a strident and reedy voice of outrage, Visbhume had demanded of the groom a mount of braver mettle: "Must I fare forth on the king's business like some lumpkin out to deliver a sack of turnips? Is there no pride in the stables of Haidion, that they furnish sway-backed nags to gentlemen?"