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VI
Castle Miraldra at Domreis could no longer serve Aillas as his seat of government. Haidion, where he had set up a temporary residence, oppressed him by reason of its melancholy associa tions and he-was resolved to move, as quickly as convenient, to Ronart Cinquelon, near the site of his new palace Alcyone at Flerency Court.
To assist in the organization of his government, he transported his council of ministers from Domreis to Lyonesse Town aboard the galleass Flor Velas. Madouc, feeling lonely and neglected at dank old Castle Miraldra, took herself uninvited aboard the vessel, and arrived with the others at Lyonesse Town. The counsellors were met by carriages for their immediate journey to Ronart Cinquelon. Madouc found herself standing alone on the docks. "If that is the way of it, so it must be," said Madouc to herself and set off on foot up the Sfer Arct.
Castle Haidion loomed above her: massive, gray and cheerless. Madouc climbed the steps to the terrace and crossed to the front portal. The men-at-arms on guard duty now wore the black and ocher of Troicinet, instead of Lyonesse lavender and green. As she approached they thumped the butts of their halberds smartly down upon the stone by way of salute, and one opened the heavy door for her; otherwise they paid her no heed.
The reception hall was empty. Haidion seemed only the husk of its old self, though the domestic staff, lacking orders to the contrary, unobtrusively went about its usual duties. From a footman Madouc learned that both Aillas and Dhrun were absent from the premises, but where they had gone and when they would return the footman could not say.
In the absence of a better arrangement, Madouc went to her old chambers, which smelled musty from disuse. She threw wide the shutters to admit light and air, then looked about the room. It seemed a place remembered from a dream.
Madouc had brought no baggage from Castle Miraldra. In the wardrobe she found garments she had left behind, but marvelled to discover how small and tight they had become. She gave a laugh of sad amusement which left an ache in her throat. "I have changed!" she told herself. "Oh how I have changed!" She stood back and surveyed the room. "Whatever happened to that long-legged little wretch who lived in this place and looked from yonder window and wore these clothes?"
Madouc went out into the hall and summoned a maid, who recognized her and began lamenting the tragic changes which had overtaken the palace. Madouc quickly lost patience with the recital. "It is clearly all for the best! You are lucky to be alive, with a roof over your head, since many are dead, or homeless, or both! Now go fetch the seamstresses, since I have no clothes to wear! Then I wish to bathe, so bring me warm water and good soap!"
From the seamstresses Madouc learned why Aillas and Dhrun were away from Haidion: they had gone to Watershade on Troicinet, where Glyneth was close upon her time.
The days passed pleasantly enough. Madouc was fitted with a dozen pretty new gowns. She renewed her acquaintance with Kerce the librarian, who had remained at Haidion, along with a small number of courtiers and their ladies who, for one reason or another, had been granted residence and now had no other place to go. Among those who lingered at the court were three of the maidens who at one time had attended Madouc: Devonet of the long golden hair, pretty Ydraint, and Felice. At first the three kept themselves warily apart; then, perceiving the possibility of advantage, began to make themselves agreeable, despite the lack of any responsive cordiality from Madouc.
Devonet was especially persistent and sought to remind Madouc of old times. "Those were truly wonderful days! And now they are gone forever!"
"What ‘wonderful days' are these?" asked Madouc.
"Don't you remember? We had such glorious fun together!"
"You had glorious fun calling me bastard, I remember that well enough. I was not all that amused."
Devonet giggled and looked aside. "It was just a silly game, and no one took it seriously."
"Of course not, since no one was called bastard but me, and I ignored you, for the most part."
Devonet heaved a sigh of relief. "I am happy to hear you say so, since I hope to find a place in the new court."
"Small chance of that," said Madouc briskly. "You may call me bastard again if you like."
Devonet put her hands to her mouth in horror: "I would never think to be so rude, now that I know better!"
"Why not?" asked Madouc reasonably. "Truth is truth."
Devonet blinked, trying to grasp not only the sense but also the overtones of Madouc's remarks. She asked cautiously: "So you never learned the name of your father?"
"I learned his name, well enough. He a
"What a pity, after all your longing for a pedigree and respectable lineage!"
Madouc sighed. "I have stopped caring about such things, since they are not to be mine. Sir Pellinore may still exist, but I suspect that I shall never know him."
"You need not grieve!" declared Devonet, "since now I will be your dear friend!"
"Excuse me," said Madouc. "I am reminded of an errand I have neglected."
Madouc went around to the stables to search out Sir Pom-Pom, only to learn that he had been killed in the battle at Breeknock Barrens. Madouc slowly returned to the castle, musing as she went. "The world now lacks a ‘Sir Pom-Pom', with all his fu
Late in the afternoon Madouc discovered to her delight that Shimrod had arrived at Haidion. He had been with Aillas and Dhrun at Watershade, and brought news that Glyneth had borne a baby girl, the Princess Serle. He reported that Aillas and Dhrun would return by ship in a day or two; Glyneth would remain at Watershade for yet another month.
"I have no patience for travelling either by horse or by ship," said Shimrod. "When I discovered that you had come to Haidion I decided on the instant to join you and the next instant I was here."
"I am happy that you are here," said Madouc. "Although, if the truth be known, I have almost enjoyed the time alone."
"How have you been occupying yourself?"
"The days go by quickly. I visit the library, where I confer with Kerce the librarian and read books. Once I went up the cloisters, through Zoltra Bright-Star's Gate and out on the Urquial. I went close to the Peinhador, so that when I looked at the ground I could imagine King Casmir sitting deep below me in the dark. The thought made me feel strange. I went back across the Urquial and pushed through the old gate so that I could look into Suldrun's garden, but I did not go down the path; the garden is far too quiet. Today I went out to the stables, and I found that poor Sir Pom-Pom had been killed in Dahaut and now is dead. I can hardly believe it, since he was so full of foolishness. His life barely got started before it was done."
"Once I spoke along similar lines to Murgen," said Shimrod. "His response was not exactly to the point, and it puzzles me to this day-to some extent, at least."
"What did he say?"
"First he leaned back in his chair and looked into the fire. Then he said: ‘Life is a peculiar commodity, with dimensions of its own. Still, if you were to live a million years, engaged in continual pleasures of mind, spirit and body; so that every day you discovered a new delight, or solved an antique puzzle, or overcame a challenge; even a single hour wasted in torpor, somnolence or passivity would be as reprehensible as if the fault were committed by an ordinary person, with scanty years to his life.'