Silence. Only the sound of leaves stirring in the afternoon airs.
"Fairies!" cried Dhrun, tears running down his cheeks. "Would you blind me for so small an offense?"
Silence, definite and final.
Dhrun groped back along the trail, guided by the sound of the little stream. Halfway along the trail he met Glyneth, who, awakening and seeing no Dhrun, had come to find him. Instantly she recognized his distress and ran forward. "Dhrun! What is the trouble?"
Dhrun took a deep breath, and tried to speak in a courageous voice, which despite his efforts quavered and cracked. "I went along the trail; I saw five dryads bathing in a pool; they splashed bees into my eyes and now I can't see!" In spite of his talisman, Dhrun could barely restrain his grief.
"Oh Dhrun!" Glyneth came close. "Open your eyes wide; let me look."
Dhrun stared toward her face. "What do you see?"
Glyneth said haltingly: "Very strange! 1 see circles of golden light, one around the other, with brown in between."
"It's the bees! They've filled my eyes with buzzing and dark honey!"
"Dhrun, dearest Dhrun!" Glyneth hugged him and kissed him, and used every endearment she knew. "How could they be so wicked!"
"I know why," he said bleakly. "Seven years bad luck. I wonder what will happen next. You had better go away and leave me—"
"Dhrun! How can you say such a thing?"
"—so that if I fall in a hole, you need not fail in too."
"Never would I leave you!"
"That is foolishness. This is a terrible world, so I am discovering. It is all you can do to care for yourself, let alone me."
"But you are the one I love most in all the world! Somehow we'll survive! When the seven years is over there'll be nothing left but good luck forever!"
"But I'll be blind!" cried Dhrun, again with a quaver in his voice.
"Well, that's not sure either. Magic blinded you; magic will cure you. What do you think of that?"
"I hope that you're right." Dhrun clutched his talisman. "How grateful I am for my bravery, even though I can't be proud of it. I suspect that I am a fearful coward at heart."
"Amulet or none, you are the brave Dhrun, and one way or another, we shall get on in the world."
Dhrun reflected a moment, then brought out his magic purse. "Best that you carry this; with my luck a crow will swoop down and carry it away."
Glyneth looked into the purse and cried out in amazement. "Nerulf emptied it; now I see gold and silver and copper!"
"It is a magic purse, and we never need fear poverty, so long as the purse is safe."
Glyneth tucked the purse into her bodice. "I'll be as careful as careful can be." She looked up the trail. "Perhaps I should go to the pool and tell the dryads what a terrible mistake they made..."
"You'd never find them. They are as heartless as fairies, or worse. They might even do mischief on you. Let's leave this place."
Late in the afternoon they came upon the ruins of a Christian chapel, constructed by a missionary now long forgotten. To the side grew a plum tree and a quince tree, both heavy with fruit. The plums were ripe; the quince, though of a fine color, tasted acrid and bitter. Glyneth picked a gallon of plums, upon which they made a somewhat meager supper. Glyneth piled up grass for a soft bed among the toppled stones, while Dhrun sat staring out across the river.
"I think the forest is thinning," Glyneth told Dhrun. "It won't be long before we're safe among civilized folk. Then we'll have bread and meat to eat, milk to drink, and beds to sleep in."
Sunset flared over the Forest of Tantrevalles, then faded to dusk. Dhrun and Glyneth went to their bed; they became drowsy and slept.
Somewhat before midnight the half-moon rose, cast a reflection on the river, and shone in Glyneth's face, awakening her. She lay warm and drowsy, listening to the crickets and frogs... A far drumming sound caught her ear. It grew louder, and with it the jingle of chain and the squeak of saddle-leather. Glyneth raised up on her elbow, to see a dozen horsemen come pounding along the river road. They crouched low in their saddles with cloaks flapping behind; moonlight illuminated their antique gear and black leather helmets with flaring ear-pieces. One of the riders, head almost into his horse's mane, turned to look toward Glyneth. Moonlight shone into his pallid face; then the ghostly cavalcade was away. The drumming died into the distance and was gone.
Glyneth sank back into the grass and at last slept.
At dawn Glyneth roused herself quietly and tried to strike a hot spark from a piece of flint she had found, and so to blow up a fire, but met no success.
Dhrun awoke. He gave a startled cry, which he quickly stifled. Then after a moment he said: "It's not a dream after all."
Glyneth looked in Dhrun's eyes. "I still see the golden circles." She kissed Dhrun. "But don't brood, we'll find some way to cure you. Remember what I said yesterday? Magic gives, magic takes."
"I'm sure that you are right." Dhrun's voice was hollow. "In any case, there's no help for it." He rose to his feet and almost immediately tripped on a root and fell. Throwing out his arms, he caught the chain where hung his amulet and sent both chain and amulet flying.
Glyneth came on the run. "Are you hurt? Oh, your poor knee, it's all bleeding from the sharp stone!"
"Never mind the knee," croaked Dhrun. "I've lost my talisman; I broke the chain and now it's gone!"
"It won't run away," said Glyneth in a practical voice. "First I'll bandage your knee and then I'll find your talisman."
She tore a strip from her petticoat and washed the scratch with water from a little spring. "We'll just let that dry, then I'll wrap it nicely in a bandage and you'll be as frisky as ever."
"Glyneth, find my talisman, please! It's something which must not be put off. Suppose a mouse drags it away?"
"It would become the bravest of mice! The cats and owls would turn tail and flee." She patted Dhrun's cheek. "But I'll find it now... It must have gone in this direction." She dropped to her hands and knees, and looked here and there. Almost at once she saw the amulet. As luck would have it, the cabochon had fallen hard; against a stone and had shattered into a dozen pieces.
"Do you see it?" asked Dhrun anxiously.
"I think it's in this clump of grass." Glyneth found a small smooth pebble and pressed it into the setting. With the edge of a larger stone, she pushed down the flange, so as to secure the pebble in place. "Here it is in the grass! Let me fix the chain." She bent the twisted link back into alignment and hung the amulet around Dhrun's neck, to his great relief. "There you are, as good as new."
The two breakfasted on plums and continued along beside the river. The forest straggled out to become a parkland of copses separated by meadows of long grasses waving in the wind. They came upon a deserted hut, shelter for those herdsmen who dared forage their flocks so close to the wolves, griswolds and bears of the forest.
Another mile, and another, and they came to a pleasant two-story stone cottage, with flower boxes under the upper windows. A stone fence surrounded a garden of forget-me-not wallflower, pansies and angel's pincushion. A pair of chimneys at either gable supported chimney pots high above the fresh clean thatch. Further along the road could be seen a village of gray stone cottages huddled in a swale. A crone in black gown and white apron weeded the garden. She paused to watch Dhrun and Glyneth approach, then gave her head a shake and returned to work.
As Glyneth and Dhrun neared the gate a plump and pretty woman of mature years stepped out upon the little porch. "Well then, children, what are you doing so far from home?"
Glyneth answered: "I'm afraid, mistress, that we're vagabonds. We have neither home nor family."