Lyonesse

"The Black Bull yonder seems appealing," said Cargus. "A mug of bitter ale, or even two, will not come amiss."

"The Black Bull then, and if luck is with us, there will be room to lay down our bodies."

At their request for lodging the i

"The Duke's Room, then! Why not? I ca

Aillas paid over a silver florin. "Bring us ale, out under the tree."

The three sat at a table and refreshed themselves in the cool breeze of late afternoon. The throngs had dwindled to a trickle of late-comers hoping to drive hard bargains, and scavengers. Music was quiet; vendors packed their goods; acrobats, contortionists, mimes and jugglers had gone their ways. The Grand Fair formally ended on the morrow, but already pavilions were being struck and booths disassembled; carts and wagons trundled off the common to the road and so away: to north, east, south and west. In front of the Black Bull passed the flamboyant wagon of Dr. Fidelius, drawn by a pair of black two-headed horses, and driven by a dashing young gentleman of striking appearance.

Yane pointed in amazement at the horses. "See the marvels! Are they freaks, or works of magic?"

"For myself," said Cargus, "I would prefer something less ostentatious."

Aillas jumped to his feet to look after the wagon. He turned back to his fellows. "Did you notice the driver?"

"Certainly. A young grandee on a lark."

"Or some wild young dartling with pretensions to gentility."

Aillas thoughtfully resumed his seat. "I have seen him before— under strange circumstances." He raised his mug only to find it empty. "Boy! Bring more ale! We will drink, then we shall follow Never-fail at least to the edge of town."

The three sat in silence, looking across the traffic of street and common. The serving-boy brought them ale; at the same moment a tall sandy-haired man with a wild and somewhat distracted look came striding along the street. He halted and spoke urgently to the boy. "I am Dr. Fidelius; has my wagon passed by? It would be drawn by a team of black two-headed horses!"

"I have not seen your wagon, sir. I have been busy fetching ale for these gentlemen."

Aillas spoke. "Sir, your wagon passed only minutes ago."

"And did you notice the driver?"

"1 took special heed of him: a man of about your own age, with dark hair, good features and a ma

Yane pointed. "He drove away yonder, south along knield Way."

"Then he will be stopped at Cambermouth." He looked back to Aillas. "If I used the name Faude Carfilhiot would that bring shape to your memory?"

"It would indeed." Aillas thought back across an age of toil, flight and wandering. "I saw him once at his castle."

"You have verified my worst fears. Boy, can you get me a horse?"

"I can go to the ostler, sir. The better the horse, the more coin he will ask."

Shimrod tossed a gold crown upon the table. "Bring his best, and in haste."

The boy ran off. Shimrod sat upon a bench to wait. Aillas appraised him sidelong. "What, when you catch him at Slange?"

"I will do what must be done."

"You will have your hands full. He is strong and no doubt well armed."

"I have no choice. He has kidnapped two children who are dear to me, and he might well do them harm."

"I would believe anything of Carfilhiot," said Aiilas. He considered his own circumstances and came to a decision. He rose to his feet. "I will ride with you to Slange. My own quest can wait an hour or two." The Never-fail still dangled from his wrist. He glanced at the index, then again, incredulously. "Look you, at the tooth!"

"Now it points south!"

Aillas turned slowly to Shimrod. "Carfilhiot drove south with two children: what are their names?"

"Glyneth and Dhrun."

The four men rode south in the light of the westering sun, and folk along the road, hearing the pound of hooves, moved to the side to let the riders pass, then turned to wonder why men should ride so hard at sundown along Icnield Way.

Across the heath rode the four and up Riverside Heights where they drew their snorting horses up short. The Cambermouth glared incandescent in the light of the setting sun. The ferry had not waited for full ebb. In order to make full use of daylight it had left Slange at the turn of the tide and already was halfway across the river. Last aboard was the wagon of Dr. Fidelius. A man standing at the side of the wagon might have been Faude Carfilhiot.

The four rode down the hill to Slange, to learn that the ferry would turn north sometime after midnight, when the tide was once more at flood, and would not cross to Cogstone Landing until sunrise.

Aillas asked the dock attendant: "Is there no other way across the water?"

"Not with your horses; no indeed, sir!"

"Then, can we cross afoot, and at once?"

"Nor neither afoot, sir. There's no wind to fill a sail, and no one would row you across with the current at full ebb, neither for silver nor gold. He'd end up on Whanish Isle, or beyond. Come back by sunrise and ride in comfort."

Back on the heights they watched the ferry dock at Cogstone. The wagon rolled ashore, moved up the road and out of sight into the dusk.

"There they go," said Shimrod flatly. "We can't hope to catch them now, the horses will run all night. But,I know his destination."

"Tintzin Fyral?"

"First he will stop at Faroli to visit the magician Tamurello."

"Where is Faroli?"

"In the forest, not too far away. I can communicate with Tamurello from Avallon, through one Triptomologius. At the very least he will see to the safety of Glyneth and Dhrun if Carfilhiot brings them to Faroli."

"Meanwhile they are at his mercy."

"So they are."

Icnield Way, parchment-pale in the moonlight, crossed a land dark and silent, with no glimmer of light to be seen on either hand. South along the way the two-headed horses pulled the wagon of Dr. Fidelius, with wild eyes and flaring nostrils, mad with hate for the being who drove them as they had never been driven before.

At midnight Carfilhiot pulled to a halt beside a stream. As the horses drank and cropped grass beside the road, he went to the back of the wagon and opened the door. "How goes it in there?"

After a pause Dhrun spoke from the darkness: "Well enough."

"If you want to drink, or ease yourselves, come down, but try no tricks as I lack patience."

Glyneth and Dhrun whispered together, and agreed that there was no reason to ride in discomfort. Warily they descended from the back of the wagon.

Carfilhiot allowed ten minutes, then ordered them back into the wagon. Dhrun went first, silent and stiff with anger. Glyneth paused with one foot on the bottom step of the ladder. Carfilhiot stood with his back to the moon. She asked: "Why have you kidnapped us?"

"So that Shimrod, whom you know as Dr. Fidelius, works no magic against me."

Glyneth tried to keep her voice from trembling. "Are you pla

"Not immediately. Get in the wagon."

"Where are we going?"

"Into the forest, then away to the west."

"Please let us go!"

Carfilhiot studied her where she stood full in the moonlight. A pretty creature, thought Carfilhiot, fresh as a wildflower. He said lightly: "If you behave nicely, then nice things will happen to you. For now into the wagon with you."