"I have no taste for Duke Carfilhiot."
"Tush. In marriage all things alter. You may come to dote on him; then you will laugh to think of your foolish whims. Now then—off with your clothes! Heigh ho! Think how it will be when Duke Carfilhiot gives the command! Sosia! Where is that flibbet of a maid? Sosia! Brush the princess's hair, a hundred strokes to either side. Tonight it must glisten like a river of gold!"
At the supper Suldrun tried to achieve an impersonal manner. She tasted a morsel of stewed pigeon; she drank half a glass of pale wine. When remarks were addressed to her she responded politely, but clearly her thoughts were elsewhere. Once, looking up, she met Carfilhiot's gaze, and for a moment stared into his lambent eyes like a fascinated bird.
She shifted her gaze and broodingly studied her plate. Carfilhiot was undeniably gallant, brave and handsome: Why then her antipathy? She knew her instincts to be accurate. Carfilhiot was involuted; his mind teemed with strange rancors and peculiar inclinations. Words entered her mind as if from another source: For Carfilhiot beauty was not to be cherished and loved, but something to be plundered and hurt.
The ladies left for the queen's drawing-room; Suldrun quickly ran off to her own chambers.
Early in the morning a brief rain swept in from the sea, to wash the greenery and settle the dust. By midmorning the sun shone through broken clouds, and sent hurrying shadows across the city. Lady Desdea arrayed Suldrun in a white gown with a white surcoat, embroidered in pink, yellow and green; and a small white cap inside a golden diadem studded with garnets.
On the terrace, four precious rugs had been laid end to end, from Haidion's ponderous main entrance to a table draped with heavy white linen. Antique silver vases four feet tall overflowed with white roses; the table supported the sacred chalice of the Lyonesse kings: a silver vessel a foot tall, carved with characters no longer intelligible to Lyonesse.
As the sun rose toward noon, dignitaries began to appear, wearing ceremonial robes and ancient emblems.
At noon Queen Sollace arrived. She was escorted by King Casmir to her throne. Behind came Duke Carfilhiot, escorted bv Duke Tandre of Sondbehar.
A moment passed. King Casmir looked toward the door, where the Princess Suldrun should now be appearing, on the arm of her aunt, the Lady Desdea. Instead, he glimpsed only a flutter of agitated motion. Presently he noted the beckoning arm of Lady Desdea.
King Casmir rose from the throne and strode back to the palace where Lady Desdea stood gesturing in confusion and bewilderment.
King Casmir looked around the foyer, then turned back to Lady Desdea. "Where is Princess Suldrun? Why do you cause this undignified delay?"
Lady Desdea blurted an explanation: "She was ready! She stood there beautiful as an angel. I led the way downstairs; she followed. I went along the gallery, and 1 had a strange feeling! I stopped and turned to look, and she stood there, pale as a lily. She called out something, but I could not quite hear; I think she said: ‘I cannot! No, I cannot!' And then she was gone, out the side door and away up under the arcade! I called after her, to no avail. She would not look back!"
King Casmir turned and walked out on the terrace. He halted, looked around the half-circle of questioning faces. He spoke in a harsh monotone. "I beg the indulgence of those now assembled. The Princess Suldrun has suffered indisposition. The ceremony will not proceed. A collation has been laid out; please partake as you wish."
King Casmir turned and reentered the palace, Lady Desdea stood to the side, hair in disorder, arms hanging like ropes.
King Casmir inspected her for five seconds, then stalked from the palace. Up the arcade, under Zoltra Bright Star's Wall, through the timber gate and down into the old garden, he strode. Here Suldrun sat, on a fallen column, elbows on knees and chin in her hands.
King Casmir halted twenty feet behind her. Slowly Suldrun looked around, eyes wide, mouth drooping.
King Casmir said: "You have come to this place in defiance of my command."
Suldrun nodded. "1 did so: yes."
"You have marred the dignity of Duke Carfilhiot in a manner which can know no mitigation."
Suldrun's mouth moved, but no words came. King Casmir spoke on.
"For frivolous whim you have come here rather than in dutiful obedience to the place required by my command. Therefore, remain in this place, both night and day, until the great hurt you have done me is assuaged, or until you are dead. If you depart either boldly or by stealth, you shall be slave to whomever first lays claim to you, be he knight or peasant, loon or vagabond; no matter! You shall be his thing."
King Casmir turned, climbed the path, passed through the gate which closed hard behind him.
Suldrun turned slowly, face blank and almost serene. She looked out to sea, where rays of sunlight shot through gaps in the clouds and down at the water.
King Casmir found a silent group awaiting him on the terrace. He looked this way and that. "Where is Duke Carfilhiot?"
Duke Tandre of Sondbehar came forward. "Sire, upon your departure he waited one minute. Then he called for his horse, and with his company he rode from Haidion."
"What said he?" cried King Casmir. "Gave he no notice of any kind?"
Duke Tandre responded, "Sire, he spoke no word."
King Casmir cast one terrible glance around the terrace, then turned and walked on long strides back into the palace Haidion.
King Casmir brooded for a week, then uttered an angry expletive and set himself to the composition of a letter. The final version read:
For The Notice Of
The Noble Duke Faude Carfilhiot
At Tintzin Fyral His Castle.
Noble Sir:
With difficulty I write these words, in reference to an incident which has given me great embarrassment. I can not properly apologize, since I am as much victim of the circumstances as yourself—perhaps even more. You suffered an affront which understandably caused you exasperation. Still, there is no doubt but what a dignity such as yours is proof against the vapours of a captious and silly maiden. On the other hand, I have lost the privilege of uniting our houses through a marital link. Despite all, I can convey my sorrow that this event occurred at Haidion and so, in this measure, marred my hospitality. I trust that in the generous breadth of your tolerance you will continue to look upon me as your friend and ally in mutual endeavors of the future.
With my best regards, I am
Casmir,
Lyonesse, the King.
An envoy carried the letter to Tintzin Fyral. In due course he returned with a response.
For The Attention Of His August Majesty Casmir, Of Lyonesse, The King.
Revered Sir:
Be assured that the emotions I derived from the incident to which you refer, while they arose within me—understandably I hope—like a storm, subsided almost as quickly, and left me embarrassed for the narrow verges of my forbearance. I agree that our personal association should in no way be compromised by the unpredictabilities of a young maiden's fancy. As always, you may rely upon my sincere respect and my great hope that your proper and legitimate ambitions may be realized. Whenever the wish comes upon you to see something of Vale Evander, be assured that I shall welcome the opportunity to extend to you the hospitality of Tintzin Fyral.
I remain in all amiability, Your friend, Carfilhiot.
King Casmir studied the letter with care. Carfilhiot apparently cherished no pangs of resentment; still, his declarations of good will, while hearty, might have gone somewhat further and been more specific.
Chapter 8
KING GRAXICE OF TROICINET was a man thin, grizzled and angular, abrupt of manner and notably terse until events went awry, whereupon he singed the air with expletives and curses. He had greatly desired a son and heir, but Queen Baudille gave him four daughters in succession, each born to the sound of Granice's furious complaints. The first daughter was Lorissa, the second Aethel, the third Ferniste, the fourth Byrin; then Baudille went barren and Granice's brother, Prince Arbamet, became heir-presumptive to the throne. Granice's second brother, Prince Ospero, a man of complicated personality and somewhat frail constitution, not only lacked ambition to the throne but so disliked the flavor of court life with its formality and artificial circumstances, that he stayed almost reclusively at his manor Water-shade, at the center of the Ceald, Troicinet's inner plain. Ospero's spouse, Ainor, had died bearing his single son, Aillas, who in due course grew to be a strong broad-shouldered lad of middle stature, taut and sinewy rather than massive, with ear-length blond-brown hair and gray eyes.