"Now I must run down into town for my boots. When you make ready, dress as a peasant. You can not safely go abroad as the proud Princess Madouc."

"Very well! I will meet you at the appointed time. Take care not to get caught in the pantry!"

As Madouc returned to her chambers she was accosted by Lady Vosse, who spoke in sharp tones: "Where have you been? Are you devoid of all sense of duty?"

Madouc looked up in wonder, mouth innocently adroop. "What have I done this time?"

"Surely you remember! I instructed you myself! You must remain in attendance upon our guests! That is proper etiquette. It is also the wish of the queen."

"It is the queen who invited these folk here, not I," grumbled Madouc. "Go rouse the queen from her own bed."

Lady Vosse stood back, momentarily at a loss for words. Then, rallying, she subjected Madouc to an examination, nose drawn up in distaste. "Your gown is soiled and you reek of horse! I might have known that you were at the stables! Quick then! To your chamber and into something fresh-perhaps your new blue frock. Come now, on the run! There is no time to waste!"

Ten minutes later Madouc and Lady Vosse arrived on the platform, where King Milo and Queen Caudabil were observing the stone-throw competition, though with little attention.

As noon approached, stewards began to set out a collation of cold beef and cheese on a trestle at the back of the platform, so that King Milo and Queen Caudabil could enjoy the sports with no interruption for a full-scale repast. Taking note of these preparations, Milo and Caudabil conferred in low voices, then Milo suddenly clutched his side and set up a hollow groaning.

Queen Caudabil called out to Sir Mungo the Seneschal: "Alas! King Milo has suffered a seizure! It is his old complaint! We will be unable to enjoy any more games and competitions! He must retire at once to our quarters for rest and proper treatment!"

Once in their chambers, Queen Caudabil ordered in a repast of eight courses and a sufficiency of good wine, which she declared was the best possible tonic for King Milo.

During the middle afternoon Prince Brezante took a message to King Casmir, to the effect that King Milo felt well enough to join King Casmir at the evening banquet, and so it was, with King Casmir and Queen Sollace sitting at table with the now merry Milo and Caudabil until well into the evening.

In the morning King Milo was unable to rise early for fear of a new attack, so that King Casmir and Queen Sollace sat as judges at the foot-races. Meanwhile King Milo and Queen Caudabil took hearty breakfasts and were so improved that they declared themselves ready to sit at a noon banquet of ordinary or even festive proportions, while Sir Mungo and other officials of the court supervised the competitions.

Late in the afternoon all the games and competitions were concluded and it only remained for the champions to be awarded their prizes. The two royal families assembled at one side of the platform; at the other gathered those who had gained victory in the various sports, each now wearing a laurel wreath and showing self-conscious grins to the crowds in the quadrangle.

At last all was in readiness. Madouc found herself seated be side Brezante, whose efforts at conversation were desultory.

Four under-heralds blew a fanfare, and Sir Mungo stepped to the front of the platform. "This is an auspicious day! Our royal guests from Blaloc regrettably must make their departure tomorrow, but we hope that they have enjoyed to the fullest the superb demonstrations of speed, stamina and skill which our men of Lyonesse have demonstrated over the last three days! I will announce the champions and in each case King Milo will bestow the prize, so well-deserved, so proudly achieved, and so long to be cherished! And now without further ado-" Sir Mungo raised his hand high in a dramatic gesture. He looked all around, up the Sfer Arct, and his voice went dead in his throat. Slowly his hand sank so that, with a trembling finger, it pointed.

Down the Sfer Arct came a strange conveyance: a large black catafaique borne on the shoulders of four running corpses, which at one time had used the names Izmael the Hun, Este the Sweet, Galgus of Dahaut and Kegan the Celt. On top of the catafaique stood a fifth corpse: the sallow young scout Idis, who now wielded a whip and slashed at the four running cadavers, urging them to their best efforts.

Nearer came the corpses carrying their elaborate burden. With wild sweeps of the whip Idis guided them into the King's Parade, while the aifrighted crowds drew back.

In front of the platform the runners tottered and collapsed. The catafalque fell to the stone flags and broke open; out rolled another corpse: Cory of Falonges.

VIII

The royal family of Blaloc took a last breakfast at Haidion in company with King Casmir and Queen Sollace. It was a sombre occasion. The two queens made polite conversation, but the two kings had little to say, and Prince Brezante sat moodily silent.

Princess Madouc had not appeared for breakfast but no one troubled to inquire in regard to her absence. After breakfast, with the sun now halfway up the sky, King Milo, Queen Caudabil and Prince Brezante exchanged final compliments with King Casmir and Queen Sollace and took their leave. King Casmir and Queen Sollace stepped out upon the terrace to watch the column depart.

Lady Vosse came from the castle and approached King Casmir. "Your Highness, I noticed the absence of Princess Madouc at the leave-taking and went to inquire the reason for her lassitude. In her chamber I found there this missive, which, as you see, is addressed to you."

King Casmir, frowning in automatic displeasure, broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. He read:

‘Your Royal Highness, my best respects!

In accordance with your commands I have set out to discover the name and condition of my father, and also the details of my pedigree. Your instructions were definite; I have commanded for myself the services of an escort. As soon as my goals have been achieved, I will return. I informed Queen Sollace of my intention to obey Your Majesty's orders in this matter. I depart immediately.

Madouc'

King Casmir looked blankly at Queen Sollace. "Madouc has gone."

‘Gone'? Where?"

"Somewhere-to seek her pedigree, so she says." Casmir slowly read the note aloud.

"So that is what the little vixen meant!" cried Sollace. "And now-what is to be done?"

"I must consider. Perhaps nothing."

CHAPTER EIGHT

An hour before dawn, with the castle silent, Madouc climbed from her bed. For a moment she stood indecisive, hugging herself and shivering to the cool air which played around her thin shanks. She went to the window; it seemed as if the day might be fair; still, at this dim hour the world seemed cheerless and unsympathetic. Doubts slid into Madouc's mind; could it be she was making a foolish, dreadful mistake?

Madouc shivered and hopped away from the window. Standing by her bed, she considered. Nothing had changed. She scowled and set her mouth into a firm line. Decisions had been made; they were irrevocable.

Madouc quickly dressed in a peasant boy's knee-length smock, bast stockings, ankle-boots, and a loose cloth cap pulled low to hide her curls. Taking up a small bundle of extra belongings, she left her chambers, stole along the dim corridor, descended the stairs and went from the castle by a back way, out into the pre-dawn stillness. She stopped to look and listen, but no one was abroad. So far, so good. She set off around the castle toward the stables. At the edge of the service-yard she paused in the shadows; only the most discerning eye could have identified this thin and furtive peasant boy as Princess Madouc.