Madouc

Madouc reflected. "Are there no other choices?"

"These will suffice at the moment."

Madouc heaved a deep sigh. "I don't mind being thought a lovely young princess so long as I am not expected to act like one."

Lady Desdea smiled her grim smile. "Unfortunately that is impossible. You will never be thought something you are not. Since it is essential that, during the fête, you present yourself as a gracious and virtuous young princess, you must act like one. Since you seem to be ignorant of that skill, you must learn it. By the wishes of the queen, you will not be allowed to ride your horse, or otherwise wander the countryside, or swim the river, until after the fête."

Madouc looked up with a stricken expression. "What will I do with myself?"

"You will learn the conventions of the court and good deportment, and your lessons begin at this instant. Extricate your self from that ungainly slouch and sit erect in the chair, hands folded in your lap."

II

The occasion of Prince Cassander's eighteenth birthday would be celebrated at a festival which King Casmir intended should surpass any that had yet enlivened the summer palace at Sarris. For days wagons had been arriving from all directions, loaded with sacks, crocks and crates, tubs of pickled fish; racks dangling with sausages, hams and bacon; barrels of oil, wine, cider and ale; baskets laden with onions, turnips, cabbages, leeks; also parcels of ramp, parsley, sweet herbs and cress. Day and night the kitchens were active, with the stoves never allowed to go cold. In the service-yard four ovens, constructed for the occasion, produced crusty loaves, saffron buns, fruit tarts; also sweet-cakes flavored with currants, anise, honey and nuts, or even cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves. One of the ovens produced only pies and pasties, stuffed with beef and leeks, or spiced hare seethed in wine, or pork and onions, or pike with fennel, or carp in a swelter of dill, butter and mushrooms, or mutton with barley and thyme.

On the night previous to Cassander's birthday, a pair of oxen were set to roast over the fire on heavy iron spits, along with two boars and four sheep. In the morning two hundred fowl would join the display, that they might be ready for the great banquet which would begin at noon and continue until the hunger of the company had been totally satiated.

As early as two days before the celebration, notables began to arrive at Sarris, coming from all quarters of Lyonesse; from Blaloc, Pomperol and Dahaut; from as far afield as Aquitaine, Armorica, Ireland and Wales. The most exalted of the lords and ladies were quartered either in the east wing or the west wing of Sarris proper; late-corners and folk of lesser estate used equally pleasant pavilions on the lawn beside the river. Miscellaneous dignitaries-the barons, knights, marshals, along with their ladies-were required to make shift with pallets and couches in certain of the halls and galleries of Sarris. Most of the notables would depart on the day following the banquet, though a few might linger in order to confer with King Casmir upon matters of high policy. Immediately before the banquet, the royal family planned to sit at a reception, that they might formally greet their guests. The reception would begin at mid-morning and proceed until noon. Madouc had been duly notified that her presence at the function would be required, and she had further been advised that only her best and most maidenly conduct would suit the occasion.

Late in the evening of the day before the event, Lady Desdea took herself to Madouc's bedchamber, where she made explicit to Madouc the conduct which would be expected of her. In response to Madouc's disinterested comment she became testy. "We will not on this occasion niggle over paltry details! Each is significant; and if you will trouble to recall your Euclid, you will remember that the whole is the sum of its parts!"

"Whatever you say. Now I am tired and I will go to my bed."

"Not yet! It is necessary that you understand the reasons for our concern. There have been rumours far and wide of your unruly behavior and wildness. Each of the guests will be watching you with an almost morbid fascination, waiting for some peculiar or even freakish demonstration."

"Bah," muttered Madouc. "They can ogle as they like; it is all the same to me. Are you now done?"

"Not yet!" snapped Lady Desdea. "I am still far from reassured by your attitude. Further, the guests will include a number of young princes. Many of these will be anxious to make suitable marriages."

Madouc yawned. "I care not a whit. Their intrigues are no concern of mine."

"You had better be concerned, and intimately so! Any of these princes would happily connect with the royal house of Lyonesse! They will be studying you with keen interest, appraising your possibilities."

"That is vulgar conduct," said Madouc.

"Not altogether; in fact, it is natural and right. They wish to make a good match for themselves! At the moment, you are too young for any thought of marriage, but the years are swift, and when the time comes to discuss betrothal, we want the princes to remember you with approval. This will enable King Casmir to make the best possible arrangement."

"Foolishness and absurdity, both up and down!" said Madouc crossly. "If King Casmir likes marriage so much, let him marry off Devonet and Chlodys, or Prince Cassander, or you, for that matter. But he must not expect me to take any part in the ceremonies."

Lady Desdea cried out in shock: "Your talk is a scandal!" She groped for words. "I will say no more; you may retire now. I only hope that you are more reasonable in the morning."

Madouc deigned no reply, and marched silently off to her bed.

In the morning maids and under-maids arrived in force. Warm water was poured into a great wooden tub; Madouc was lathered with white Egyptian soap, rinsed clean in water scented with balm from Old Tingis. Her hair was brushed till it shone, after which she unobtrusively combed it with her own comb, so that the copper-golden curls arranged themselves to best advantage. She was dressed in a confection of blue lawn ruffled at shoulder and sleeve, pleated with white in the skirt.

Lady Desdea watched critically from the side. Life at Sarris, so she reflected, seemed to agree with Madouc; at times the scamp looked almost pretty, although her contours and long legs were deplorably boyish.

Madouc was not happy with the gown. "There are too many pleats and twickets."

"Nonsense!" said Lady Desdea. "The gown makes the most of what little figure you have; you should be grateful. It is quite becoming."

Madouc ignored the remarks, which pleased her not at all. She sat glowering as her hair was brushed once again ‘for the sake of a job well done', as Lady Desdea put it, then confined by a silver fillet set with cabochons of lapis lazuli.

Lady Desdea gave Madouc her final instructions. "You will be meeting a number of notables! Remember: you must engage them with your charm, and make sure of their extreme good opinion, in order that all the sour and stealthy rumours once and for all are given the lie and nailed to the wall!"

"I cannot achieve the impossible," growled Madouc. "If persons intend to think ill of me, they will do so, even though I grovel at their feet and implore their respectful admiration."

"Such extreme conduct will surely not be necessary," said Lady Desdea tartly. "Amiability and courtesy are usually sufficient."

"You are fitting horseshoes on a cow! Since I am the princess, t is they who must supplicate my good opinion; not I theirs. That is simple and reasonable."

Lady Desdea refused to pursue the subject. "No matter! Listen as the notables are introduced and greet them nicely, by title and by name. They will thereby think you gracious and kind, and instantly begin to doubt the rumours."

Madouc made no response, and Lady Desdea continued with her instructions: "Sit quietly; neither fidget nor scratch, neither wriggle nor writhe. Keep your knees together; do not sprawl, spraddle, slump nor kick out your feet. Your elbows must be held close, unlike the wings of a seagull as it veers on the wind. If you see an acquaintance across the room, do not set up a boisterous outcry; that is not proper conduct. Do not wipe your nose on the back of your hand. Do not grimace, blow out your cheeks; do not giggle, with or without reason. Can you remember all this?"