"Eat well," said Aillas. "Let us not leave this room hungry."
"Better that we did not leave this room at all," observed Yane.
"Impossible!" declared Scharis. "Have you no curiosity?"
"In matters of this sort, very little. I am going directly to that couch."
Cargus said, "I am a great reveler, when the mood comes on me. To watch the revels of other folk sours my disposition. I too will take to the couch, and dream my own dreams."
Bode said: "I will stay; I need no persuasion."
Aillas turned to Garstang. "What of you?"
"If you stay, I will stay. If you go, I will stand by your side, to guard you from greed and intemperance."
"Scharis?"
"I could not contain myself in here. I will go, at least to wander and stare through the holes of my mask."
"Then I will follow, and ward you as Garstang guards me, and we both shall guard Garstang, so we will be reasonably secure."
Scharis shrugged. "As you say."
"Who knows what might occur? We will wander and stare together."
The three masked their faces and left the chamber.
Tall archways overlooked the terrace, where flowering jasmine, orange, elethea and cleanotis perfumed the air. On a settee padded with cushions of dark green velvet the three sat to rest. The clouds which had threatened a great storm had moved to the side; the night air was soft and mild.
A tall man in a dark red costume, with black curly hair and a small black beard, paused to survey them. "Well then, what do you think of my villa?"
Garstang shook his head. "I am beyond speech."
Aillas said: "There is too much to comprehend."
Scharis' face was pale and his eyes shone, but, like Garstang, he had nothing to say.
Aillas gestured to the couch. "Sit awhile with us, Lord Daldace."
"With pleasure."
"We are curious," said Aillas. "There is such overwhelming beauty here; it has almost the unreal quality of a dream."
Lord Daldace looked about as if seeing the villa for the first time. "What are dreams? Ordinary experience is a dream. The eyes, the ears, the nose: they present pictures on the brain, and these pictures are called 'reality.' At night, when we dream, other pictures, of source unknown, are impinged. Sometimes the dreamimages are more real than 'reality.' Which is solid, which illusion? Why trouble to make the distinction? When tasting a delicious wine, only a pedant analyzes every component of the flavor. When we admire a beautiful maiden, do we evaluate the particular bones of her skull? I am sure we do not. Accept beauty on its own terms: this is the creed of Villa Meroe."
"What of satiation?"
Lord Daldace smiled. "Have you ever known satiation in a dream?"
"Never," said Garstang. "A dream is always most vivid."
Scharis said: "Both life and dreams are things of exquisite fragility. A thrust, a cut—they are gone: away, like a sweet scent on the wind."
Garstang said: "Perhaps you will answer this: why is everyone masked?"
"A whim, a crotchet, a fancy, a fad! I might counter your question with another. Consider your face: is it not a mask of skin? You three, Aillas, Garstang and Scharis, each is a person favored by nature; your skin-mask commends you to the world. Your comrade Bode is not so fortunate; he would rejoice to go forever with a mask before his face."
"None of your company appears ill-favored," said Garstang. "The gentlemen are noble and the ladies are beautiful. So much is evident despite the masks."
"Perhaps so. Still, late of night, when lovers become intimate and disrobe together, the last article to be removed is the mask."
Scharis asked: "And who plays the music?"
Aillas listened, as did Garstang. "I hear no music."
"Nor I," said Garstang.
"It is very soft," said Lord Daldace. "In fact, perhaps it is unheard." He rose to his feet. "I hope I have satisfied your wonder?"
"Only a churl would require more of you," said Aillas. "You have been more than courteous."
"You are pleasant guests, and I am sorry that you must go on the morrow. But now, a lady awaits me. She is new to Villa Meroe and I am anxious to enjoy her pleasure."
"A last question," said Aillas. "If new guests come, the old ones must leave, or they would congest every hall and chamber of Meroe.
When they leave, where do they go?"
Lord Daldace laughed softly. "Where go the folk who live in your dreams when at last you wake?" He bowed and departed.
Three maidens stopped before them. One spoke with mischievous boldness. "Why do you sit so quietly? Do we lack charm?"
The three men rose to their feet. Aillas found himself facing a slender girl with pale blonde hair and features of flower-like delicacy. Eyes of violet-blue looked at him from behind the black domino. Aillas' heart gave a startled jerk, of both pain and joy- He started to speak, then checked himself. "Excuse me," he muttered. "I am not feeling well." He turned away, to find that Garstang had done the same. Garstang said: "It is impossible. She resembles someone who was once very dear to me."
"They are dreams," said Aillas. "They are very hard to resist. Is Lord Daldace so ingenuous, after all?"
"Let us return to our couches. I don't care for dreams quite so real... Where is Scharis?"
The maidens and Scharis were not to be seen. "We must find him," said Aillas. "His temperament will betray him."
They walked the chambers of Meroe, ignoring the soft lights, the fascinations, the tables laden with delicacies. At last they found Scharis, in a small courtyard opening on the terrace. He sat in the company of four others, blowing soft tones from the pipes of a syrinx. The others played various different instruments, to produce music of a haunting sweetness. Close beside Scharis sat a slim dark-haired maiden; she leaned so closely to him that her hair spread across his shoulder. In one hand she held a goblet of purple wine, which she sipped, and then, when the music stopped, she offered to Scharis.
Scharis, in rapt abstraction, took it in his hand, but Aillas leaned low over the balustrade and snatched it away, "Scharis, what has come over you? Come along, we must sleep! Tomorrow we will put this dream-castle behind us; it is more dangerous than all the werewolves of Tantrevalles!"
Scharis slowly rose to his feet. He looked down at the girl.
"I must go."
The three men returned silently to the sleeping chamber, where Aillas said: "You almost drank from the goblet."
"I know."
"Did you drink before?"
"No." Scharis hesitated. "I kissed the girl, who is much like someone I once loved. She had been drinking wine and a drop hung on her lips. I tasted it."
Aillas groaned. "Then I must discover the antidote from Lord Daldace!"
Again Garstang joined him; the two roamed Meroe but nowhere could they find Lord Daldace.
The lights began to be extinguished; the two at last returned to their chamber. Scharis either slept or feigned sleep.
Morning light entered through high windows. The six men arose and somewhat glumly considered each other. Aillas said heavily. "The day has started. Let us be on our way; we will make our breakfast along the road."
At the gate the horses awaited them though the gatekeeper was nowhere to be seen. Not knowing what he might discover if he looked back, Aillas resolutely kept his head turned away from Villa Meroe. His comrades did likewise, so he noticed.
"Away, then, along the road, and let us forget the palace of dreams!"
The six galloped away with cloaks flapping behind. A mile down the road they halted to take breakfast. Scharis sat by himself to the side. His mood was abstracted and he showed no appetite.
Strange, thought Aillas, how loosely the trousers hung about his legs. And why did his jacket sag so oddly?
Aillas sprang to his feet but not before Scharis slid to the ground, where his clothes lay empty. Aillas dropped to his knees.
Scharis' hat fell away; his face, a mask of a substance like pale parchment, slipped askew, and looked - somewhere.