Lyonesse

She jumped to the ground and Dr. Fidelius addressed the throng. "Ladies and Sirs: We all know affliction of one sort or another—the pox, or boils, or hallucinations. Let me state at the outset, my powers are limited. I cure goiter and worm, costive impaction, stricture and bloat. I soothe the itch; I heal the scabies. Especially I mourn the anguish of cracking and creaking knees. Only one who suffers the complaint can know its' trouble!"

As Dr. Fidelius spoke, the girl moved about the crowd selling ointments and tonics from a tray. Dr. Fidelius displayed a chart. "Observe this drawing. It represents the human knee. When injured, as at the blow of an iron bar, the kneecap recedes; the joint becomes a toggle; the leg rasps back and forth like a cricket's wing, with clicks and cracking sounds."

Rughalt was profoundly stirred. "My knees might serve as models for his discourse!" he told Carfilhiot.

"Amazing," said Carfilhiot.

Rughalt held up his hand. "Let us listen."

Doctor Fidelius spoke on. "The affliction has its remedy!" He picked up a small clay pot and held it on high. "I have here an ointment of Egyptian source. It penetrates directly into the joint and strengthens as it relieves. The ligaments recover their tone. Persons creep into my laboratory on crutches and stride out renewed. Why suffer this debilitation when relief can be almost immediate? The ointment is valuable, at a silver florin per jar, but it is cheap when one considers its effects. The ointment, incidentally, carries my personal guarantee."

Rughalt listened with fascinated attention. "I must surely put the ointment to a test.'"

"Come along," said Carfilhiot curtly. "The man is a charlatan. Don't waste time and money on such foolishness."

"I have nothing better to waste it on," retorted Rughalt with sudden spirit. "Were my legs once more nimble I would have money to spare'."

Carfilhiot looked askance toward Dr. Fidelius. "Somewhere I have seen that man."

"Bah!" growled Rughalt. "It is not you who suffers the pangs; you can afford skepticism. I must grasp at every straw! Hey there, Dr. Fidelius! My kneecaps answer your description! Can you bring me relief?"

Dr. Fidelius called out: "Sir, come forward! Even from this distance I diagnose a typical condition. It is known as ‘Roofer's Knee,' or sometimes ‘Robber's Knee,' since it often comes from the impact of the knee against roof-tiles. Please step over here, so that I may examine your leg with care. I can almost guarantee your surcease in a very short time. Are you a roofer, sir?"

"No," said Rughalt curtly.

"No matter. A knee, after all, is a knee. If left untreated, it will eventually turn yellow, extrude bits of decaying bone and become a source of a

Rughalt followed Dr. Fidelius to the other side of the wagon. Carfilhiot impatiently turned away and went off in search of Triptomologius, and presently found the necromancer stocking the shelves of his booth with articles brought by dog cart.

The two exchanged greetings and Triptomologius inquired the reason for Carfilhiot's presence. Carfilhiot responded in oblique terms, hinting of intrigues and mysteries which might not be discussed. "Tamurello was to leave a message for me," said Carfilhiot. "Have you been in late contact with him?"

"As lately as yesterday. The message made no mention of you; he remains at Faroli."

"Then I will make for Faroli with all speed. You must provide me a good horse and ten gold crowns, for which Tamurello will reimburse you."

Triptomologius drew back in shock. "His message told me none of this!"

"Then send a new message, but be quick about it, as I must I depart Avallon at once—tomorrow at the latest."

Triptomologius pulled at his long gray chin. "I can spare no more than three crowns. You must make do."

"What? Must I eat crusts and sleep under the hedge?"

After a period of undignified wrangling, Carfilhiot accepted five gold crowns, a horse, suitably furnished, and saddle-bags packed with provisions of carefully stipulated kind and quality.

Carfilhiot returned across the common. He paused by the wagon of Dr. Fidelius, but the side doors were closed and no one could be seen: neither Dr. Fidelius, the girl or boy, nor yet Rughalt.

Once more at the Black Bull, Carfilhiot seated himself at a table in front of the i

Shimrod! If he had taken Rughalt, who would be next? Carfilhiot felt cold and his bowels went queasy, as if they needed relief.

Carfilhiot rose to his feet. He looked out across the common. There was no sign of Rughalt. Carfilhiot cursed between his teeth. He had neither coin nor gold, and would have none till the morrow.

Carfilhiot worked to regain his composure. He drew a deep breath and clenched his fist. "I am Faude Carfilhiot! I am I, the best of the best! I dance my perilous dance along the edge of the sky! I take the clay of Destiny in my hands and shape it to my will. I am Faude Carfilhiot, the nonpareil!"

With a firm light step, he set off across the common. Lacking a weapon of any sort, he halted to pick up a broken tent-stake: a length of ash something over a foot long, which he concealed under his cape, then proceeded directly to the wagon of Dr. Fidelius.

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Once behind Dr. Fidelius' wagon, Rughalt spoke in a reedy voice: "You have mentioned sore knees, which I have in abundance, to the number of two. They creak and click and on occasion bend in reverse direction, causing me discomfort."

"Interesting!" exclaimed Dr. Fidelius. "Interesting indeed! How long have you been so troubled?"

"Forever, or so it seems. It came upon me during the course of my work. I was subjected to alternating heat and cold, dampness and dry. Meanwhile I was forced to great exertions, twisting, turning, pushing, pulling, and I feel that I weakened my knees in the process."

"Precisely so! Still, your case shows peculiarities. It is not typical of the Avallon sore knee."

"I then resided in South Ulfland."

"I am vindicated! For the South Ulfland disease we will need certain medicines which I do not keep in the wagon." Shimrod called to Glyneth; she approached, looking back and forth between the two men. Shimrod took her somewhat aside. "I'll be in conference with the gentleman for perhaps an hour. Close up the wagon, put the horses to their traces. Tonight we may be on the road to Lyonesse."