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suitable color for her hair; as before it floated in a soft cloud behind her
head and around her face. Madouc scanned the face anxiously, hoping for
indications of maternal benevolence. Twisk s expression was impassive.
 Mother! cried Madouc.  I am happy to see you again!
Twisk halted and looked Madouc up and down.  Your hair is a jackdaw s nest,
said Twisk.  Where is the comb I gave you?
Madouc said hurriedly:  Some clowns from the fair stole my horse Juno, along
with saddle, saddlebag and comb.
 Clowns and entertainers are an untrustworthy lot; this should be your lesson.
In any case you must make yourself tidy, especially if you plan to join the
merriment at our grand festival! As you can see, the frolics are already
underway.
 I know nothing of the festival, Mother dear. I had not planned merriment.
 Oh? It is to be a grand gala! Notice all the pretty arrangements!
Madouc looked across the meadow and now everything had changed. The swirl of
fog above the hummock had become a tall castle of twenty towers with long
banderoles streaming from each spire. In front of the castle stanchions of
twisted silver and iron were linked by festoons of flowers; they surrounded a
long table heaped with delicacies and liquors in tall bottles.
The festival apparently had not yet started, although fairies were already
promenading and dancing about the meadow in great high spirits-all save one,
who sat perched on a post scratching himself with great industry.
 I seem to have arrived at a happy time, said Madouc.  What is the occasion?
 We celebrate a notable event, said Twisk.  It is the emancipation of Falael
from seven long years of itch; King Throbius so punished him for malice and
mischief. The curse will soon have run its course; in the meantime Falael sits
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yonder on the post, scratching as earnestly as ever. And
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file:///F|/rah/Jack%20Vance/Vance,%20Jack%20-%20Elder%20Isles%203%20-%20Madouc
.txt now, I will bid you farewell once again, and wish you a fortunate
future.
 Wait! cried Madouc.  Are you not pleased to see me, your own dear daughter?
 Not altogether, if truth be told. Your birth was travail, most unsavory, and
your presence reminds me of the entire revolting circumstance.
Madouc pursed her lips.  I will put it out of my mind if you will do the
same.
Twisk laughed: a gay tinkle.  Well spoken! My mood is slightly alleviated! Why
are you here?
 It is the usual reason. I need a mother s advice.
 Proper and normal! Describe your trouble! Surely it is not an affair of the
heart!
 No, Mother! I only want to find my father, so that I can finally define my
pedigree.
Twisk gave a plangent cry of displeasure.  The topic lacks interest! I have
long put the circumstance out of my mind! I remember nothing!
 Surely you remember something! cried Madouc.
Twisk made an offhand gesture.  A moment of frivolity, a laugh, a kiss; why
should anyone wish to catalogue these in terms of place, date, phase of the
moon, details of nomenclature? Rest content with the knowledge that one such
event was conducive to your being; that is enough.
 For you, but not for me! I am intent upon my identity, which means the name
of my father.
Twisk gave a gurgle of mocking laughter.  I cannot even name my own father,
let alone yours!
 Still, my father brought you a lovely child; surely that impressed your
memory!
 Hmm. One would so imagine. Twisk looked off across the meadow.  You have
tickled my recollection! The occasion, so I recall, was unique. I can tell you
this- Twisk looked past
Madouc into the forest.  Who are these solemn vagrants? Their presence
obtrudes upon the mood of the festival!
Madouc turned to find that Sir Pom-Pom had crept through the forest and now
stood close at hand.
Not far behind, but well back in the shadows, lurked Travante. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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