While the head watched aghast, the children piled faggots below and brought fire from the hearth to set the faggots ablaze. Dhrun brought out his pipes and played while the children danced in a circle. The head roared and supplicated but was allowed no mercy. At last the head was reduced to ash, and Arbogast the ogre was no more.
Fatigued by the day's events, the children trooped back into the hall. They supped on porridge and soup of cabbage, with good crusty bread and more of Arbogast's wine; then they prepared to sleep. A few of the more hardy climbed up on Arbogast's bed, desipite the rancid stench; the others sprawled before the fire.
Dhrun, weary in every bone from his vigil of the night before, not to mention his deeds of the day, nonetheless found himself unable to sleep. He lay before the fire, head propped on his hands and considered his adventures. He had not fared too badly. Perhaps seven years of bad luck had not been inflicted upon him after all.
The fire burned low. Dhrun went to the wood-box for logs. He dropped them upon the coals, to send showers of red sparks veering up the chimney. The flames flared high, and glinted back from the eyes of Glyneth, who also sat awake. She joined Dhrun in front of the fireplace. The two sat clasping their knees and looking into the flames. Glyneth spoke in a husky half-whisper: "No one has troubled to thank you for saving our lives. I do so now. Thank you, dear Dhrun; you are gallant and kind and remarkably brave."
Dhrun said in a wistful voice: "I would hope to be gallant and kind, since I am the son of a prince and a princess, but as for bravery, I can honorably claim none."
"Sheer nonsense! Only a person of great bravery would have done as you did."
Dhrun gave a bitter laugh. He touched his talisman. "The fairies knew my fearfulness and gave me this amulet of courage; without it I could have dared nothing."
"I'm not at all certain of that," said Glyneth. "Amulet or none, I consider you very brave."
"That is good to hear," said Dhrun mournfully. "I wish it were so."
"All this to the side, why would the fairies give you such a gift, or any gift whatever? They are not ordinarily so generous."
"I lived with the fairies all my days at Thripsey Shee, on Madling Meadow. Three days ago they cast me out, though many of them loved me and gave me gifts. There were one or two who wished me ill and tricked me so that when I looked back and incurred seven years of bad luck."
Glyneth took Dhrun's hand and held it against her cheek. "How could they be so cruel?"
"It was strictly the fault of Falael, who lives for such mischief. And what of you? Why are you here?"
Glyneth smiled sadly into the fire. "It's a dreary tale. Are you sure you want to hear it?"
"If you want to tell it."
"I'll leave out the worst parts. I lived in North Ulfland, at the town Throckshaw. My father was a squire. We lived in a fine house with glass windows and feather-beds and a rug on the parlor floor. There were eggs and porridge for breakfast, sausages and roasted pullets at noon dinner and a good soup for supper, with a salad of garden greens.
"Count Julk ruled the land from Castle Sfeg; he was at war with the Ska, who already had settled the Foreshore. To the south of Throckshaw is Poelitetz: a pass through the Teach tac Teach into Dahaut and a place coveted by the Ska. Always the Ska put pressure on us; always Count Julk drove them back. One day a hundred Ska knights on black horses raided Throckshaw. The men of the town took up arms and drove them away. A week later an army of five hundred Ska riding black horses drove up from the Foreshore and reduced Throckshaw. They killed my father and mother, and burnt our house. I hid under the hay with my cat Pettis, and watched while they rode back and forth screaming like demons. Count Julk appeared with his knights, but the Ska killed him, conquered the countryside, and perhaps Poelitetz as well.
"When the Ska left Throckshaw, I took a few silver coins and ran away with Pettis. Twice I was almost captured by vagabonds. One night I ventured into an old barn. A great dog came roaring at me. Rather than running, my brave Pettis attacked the beast and was killed. The farmer came to investigate and discovered me. He and his wife were kind folk and gave me a home. I was almost content, though I worked hard in the buttery, and also during the threshing. But one of the sons began to molest me, and to suggest careless behavior. I dared no longer walk alone to the barn for fear he would find me. One day a procession came by. They called themselves Relicts of Old Gomar* and were on pilgrimage to a celebration at Godwyne Foiry, the ruins of Old Gomar's capitol, at the edge of the Great Forest, over the Teach tac Teach and into Dahaut. I joined them and so left the farmhouse.
*Gomar: ancient kingdom comprising all of North Hybras and the Hesperian Islands.
"We crossed the mountains in safety, and came to Godwyne Foiry. We camped at the edge of the ruins and all was well, until the day before Midsummer's Eve when I learned of the celebrations and what would be expected of me. The men wear the horns of goats and elk, nothing more. They paint their faces blue and their legs brown. The women plait the leaves of ash trees into their hair and wear cinctures of twenty-four rowan berries about their waists. Each time a woman consorts with a man, he breaks one of her berries; and whichever woman first breaks all her berries is declared the incarnation of the love goddess Sobh. I was told that at least six of the men were planning to lay hands on me at once, even though I am not yet truly a woman. I left the camp that very night and hid in the forest.
"I had a dozen frights and a dozen close escapes, and finally a witch trapped me under her hat and sold me to Arbogast, and you know the rest."
The two sat silently, looking into the fire. Dhrun said: "I wish I could travel with you and protect you, but I am burdened with seven years bad luck, or so I fear, which I would not share with you."
Glyneth leaned her head on Dnrun's shoulder. "I would gladly take the chance."
They sat talking long into the night, while the fire once again lapsed to coals. There was quiet inside and outside the hall, disturbed only by a pitter-patter from above, caused, according to Glyneth, by the ghosts of dead children running along the' roof.
In the morning the children breakfasted, then broke into Arbogast's strong-room, where they found a chest of jewels, five baskets full of gold crowns, a set of precious silver punchbowls, intricately carved to depict events of the mythical ages, and dozens of other treasures.
For a time the children frolicked and played with the riches, imagining themselves lords of vast estates, and even Farence took a wan pleasure in the game.
Throughout the afternoon the wealth was shared out equally among the children, all save Nerulf, who was allowed nothing.
After a supper of leeks, preserved goose, white bread and butter and a rich plum-duff with wine sauce, the children gathered around the fireplace to crack nuts and sip cordials. Daffin, Pode, Fulp, Arvil, Hloude, Lossamy and Dhrun were the boys, along with the morose imp Nerulf. The girls were Gretina, Zoel, Bertrude, Farence, Wiedelin and Glyneth. The youngest were Arvil and Zoel; the oldest, aside from Nerulf, were Lossamy and Farence.
For hours they discussed their circumstances, and the best route through the Forest of Tantrevalles into civilized countryside. Pode and Hloude seemed best acquainted with the terrain. Optimally, so they declared, the group should follow the brick road north to the first river which would necessarily join the Murmeil. They should follow the Murmeil out into the open lands of Dahaut, or perhaps by some stroke of luck they might find or purchase a boat, or even build a raft. "Indeed, with our wealth we can easily obtain a boat and float in ease and comfort downstream to Gehadion Towers, or, should we choose, all the way to Avallon." Such was Pode's opinion.