CHAPTER THREE

Each summer King Casmir moved with household and court to Sarris, a rambling old mansion about forty miles northeast of Lyonesse Town. The site, beside the River Glame, in a region of gently rolling parldand, was most pleasant. Sarris itself made no pretensions either to elegance or grandeur. Queen Sollace, for one, found the amenities at Sarris much inferior to those at Haidion, and described Sarris as ‘a great overgrown barn of a farmhouse'. She also decried the rustic informality which, despite her best efforts, pervaded life at Sarris and which, in her opinion, diminished the dignity of the court and, further, infected the servants with slackness.

There was little society at Sarris, other than an occasional banquet at which King Casmir entertained certain of the local gentry, most of whom Queen Sollace found tedious. She often spoke to King Casmir of her boredom: "In essence, I do not enjoy living like a peasant, with animals braying through the windows of my bedchamber and every cock of the fowl-run crying out alarums each morning before dawn."

King Casmir turned a deaf ear to the complaints. Sarris was sufficiently convenient for the conduct of state business; for sport he played his falcons and hunted his parldands, or at times, when the chase was hot, he ranged far beyond, sometimes into the fringes of Forest Tantrevalles, only a few miles to the north.

The rest of the royal household also found Sarris to their taste. Prince Cassander was attended by convivial comrades; daily they amused themselves riding abroad, or boating on the river, or practicing the sport of jousting, which recently had become fashionable. During the evening they fancied sport of another kind, in association with certain merry girls of the locality, using an abandoned gamekeeper's cottage for their venue.

Princess Madouc also took pleasure in the move, which, if nothing else, delivered her from the attendance of her six maids- in-waiting. Her pony Tyfer was ready at hand; every day she rode happily out on the meadows, with Pymfyd for her groom. Not all circumstances were halcyon; she was expected to comport herself in a style befitting her place. Madouc, however, paid little heed to the circumscriptions imposed by Lady Desdea, and followed her own inclinations.

Lady Desdea at last took Madouc aside for an earnest discus sion. "My dear, it is time and past time that reality enters your life! You must accept the fact that you are the Princess Madouc of Lyonesse, not some vulgar little ruffian girl, with neither rank nor responsibility!"

"Very well, Lady Desdea; I will remember this. Can I go now?"

"Not yet; in fact, I am barely started. I am trying to point out that each of your acts redounds to the credit, or discredit, not only of yourself and the royal family, but of the entire kingdom! It is awesome to think about! Are you quite clear on this?"

"Yes, Lady Desdea. And yet-"

"And yet-what?"

"No one seems to notice my conduct but you. So it makes little difference after all, and the kingdom is not in danger."

"It makes a great deal of difference!" snapped Lady Desdea. "Bad habits are easy to learn and hard to forget! You must learn the gracious good habits that will make you admired and respected!"

Madouc gave a doubtful assent. "I do not think anyone will ever admire my needlework or respect my dancing."

"Nevertheless, these are skills and graces which you must learn, and learn well! Time is advancing; the days go by; the months become years while you are not even noticing. Before long there will be talk of betrothals, and then you and your conduct will be the subject of the most minute scrutiny and the most careful analysis."

Madouc gave a disdainful grimace. "If anyone scrutinizes me, they will need no analysis to discover what I think of them."

"My dear, that is not the proper attitude."

"No matter; I want nothing to do with such things. They must look elsewhere for their betrothals."

Lady Desdea chuckled grimly. "Do not be too positive too soon, since surely you will change your mind. In any case, I expect you to start practicing genteel conduct."

"It would be a waste of time."

"Indeed? Consider this case. A noble prince comes to Lyonesse, hoping to meet a princess modest and pure, of charm and delicacy. He asks: ‘And where is Princess Madouc, who, so I expect, is beautiful, kind and good?' For answer they point out the window and say: ‘There she goes now!' He looks out the window and sees you running past, helter-skelter, hair like red rope, with all the charm and grace of a banshee from hell! What then?"

"If the prince is wise, he will order up his horse and leave at once." Madouc jumped to her feet. "Are you finished? If so, I will be happy to leave."

"Go."

Lady Desdea sat still and stiff for ten minutes. Then, abruptly, she rose to her feet and marched to the queen's boudoir. She found Sollace sitting with her hands in a slurry of powdered chalk and milk of milkweed, by which she hoped to mitigate the effects of the country water.

Queen Sollace looked up from the basin of slurry. "So then, Ottile! What a face you show me! Is it despair, or grief, or simple intestinal cramp?"

"You misread my mood, Your Highness! I have just spoken with Princess Madouc and now I must make a discouraging report."

Sollace sighed. "Again? I am becoming apathetic when her name is mentioned! She is in your hands. Teach her the proprieties and a few graces, together with dancing and needlework; that is enough. In a few years we will marry her off. Until then, we must bear with her oddities."

"If she were only ‘odd', as you put it, I could deal with her. Instead she has become a full-fledged tomboy, and is intractable to boot. She swims the river where I can not venture; she climbs the trees and hides from my call in the foliage. Her favorite resort is the stables; always she stinks of horse. I know not how to control her."

Sollace pulled her hand from the slurry and decided that the treatment had worked its best effect. Her maid started to wipe away the paste, prompting an outcry from Sollace: "Take care, Nelda! You are flaying me alive with your strenuous work! Do you think I am made of leather?"

"I am sorry, Your Highness. I will be more careful. Your hands are now truly beautiful!"

Queen Sollace gave a grudging nod. "That is why I endure such hardships. What were you saying, Ottile?"

"What shall be done with Princess Madouc?"

Sollace looked up blankly, eyes large and bovine. "I am not quite clear on her fault."

"She is undisciplined, free as a lark and not always tidy. There are smuts on her face and straws in her hair, if that flying red tousle deserves the word. She is careless, impudent, willful and wild."

Queen Sollace sighed once again and selected a grape from the bowl at her elbow. "Convey my displeasure to the princess and explain that I will be satisfied only with her proper deportment."

"I have already done so ten times. I might as well be talking to the wind."

"Hmf. She is no doubt as bored as I. This rusticity is maddening. Where are the little maids who attend her so nicely at Haidion? They are so dainty and sweet and nice; Madouc would surely profit from their example."

"So one might imagine, in the ordinary case."

Queen Sollace chose another grape. "Send off for two or three of these maidens. Indicate that they are to guide Madouc in a gentle and discreet fashion. Time rushes on, and already we must look to the future!"

"Just so, Your Highness!"

"Who is that little blond maiden, so winsome and full of pretty wiles? She is like myself at her age."

"That would be Devonet, daughter to Duke Malnoyard Odo of Castle Folize."

"Let us have her here at Sarris, and another as well. Who shall it be?"