Rughalt rubbed his chin. "The Black Bull is yonder on the Square.
The charges are said to be excessive; you will pay in silver for a night's lodging."
"I carry no funds whatever, neither silver nor gold. You must provide funds until I make arrangements."
Rughalt winced. "The Fishing Cat, after all, is not so bad. Gurdy the landlord is daunting only at first acquaintance."
"Bah. He and his hovel both stink of rancid cabbage and worse.
Take me to the Black Bull."
"Just so. Ah, my aching legs! Duty calls you onward."
At the Black Bull Carfilhiot found lodging to meet his requirements, though Rughalt screwed his eyes together when the charges were quoted. A haberdasher displayed garments which Carfilhiot found consonant with his dignity; however, to Rughalt's dismay Carfilhiot refused to haggle the price and Rughalt paid the wily tailor with slow and crooked fingers.
Carfilhiot and Rughalt seated themselves at a table in front of the Black Bull and watched the folk of Avallon. Rughalt ordered two modest half-measures from the steward. "Wait!" Carfilhiot commanded. "I am hungry. Bring me a dish of good cold beef, with some leeks and a crust of fresh bread, and I will drink a pint of your best ale."
While Carfilhiot satisfied his hunger, Rughalt watched sidelong with disapproval so evident that Carfilhiot finally asked: "Why do you not eat? You have become gaunt as an old leathern strap."
Rughalt replied between tight lips, "Truth to tell, I must be careful with my funds. I live at the edge of poverty."
"What? I thought you to be an expert cut-purse, who depredated all the fairs and festivals of Dahaut."
"That is no longer possible. My knees prevent that swift and easy departure which is so much a part of the business. I no longer ply the fairs."
"Still, you are evidently not destitute."
"My life is not easy. Luckily, I see all in the dark and I now work nights at the Fishing Cat, robbing guests while they sleep.
Even so, my clicking knees are a handicap, and since Gurdy, the landlord, insists on a share of my earnings, I avoid unnecessary expense. In this connection, will you be long in Avallon?"
"Not long. I want to find a certain Triptomologius. Is his name known to you?"
"He is a necromancer. He deals in elixirs and potions. What is your business with him?"
"First, he will supply me with gold, as much as I need."
"In that case, ask enough for the both of us!"
"We shall see." Carfilhiot stood erect. "Let us seek out Triptomologius."
With a cracking and clicking of the knees, Rughalt arose. The two walked through the back streets of Avallon to a dark little shop perched on a hill overlooking the Murmeil estuary. A slatternly crone with chin and nose almost making contact gave information that Triptomologius had gone out that very morning to set up a booth on the common, that he might sell his wares at the fair.
The two descended the hill by twisting flights of narrow stone steps, with the crooked old gables of Avallon overhanging: the swaggering young gallant in fine new clothes and the gaunt man walking with the stiff careful bent-kneed tread of a spider. They went out upon the common, since dawn a place of seething activity and many-colored confusion. Early arrivals already hawked their goods. Newcomers established themselves to best advantage amid complaints, chaffing, quarrels, invective and an occasional scuffle. Hawkers set up their tents, driving stakes into the ground with great wooden mauls, and hung bunting of a hundred sunfaded hues. Food stalls set their braziers aglow; sausages sizzled in hot grease; grilled fish, dipped in garlic and oil, was served on slabs of bread. Oranges from the valleys of Dascinet competed in color and fragrance with purple Lyonesse grapes, Wysrod apples, Daut pomegranates, plums and quince. At the back of the common, trestles demarcated a long narrow paddock, where the mendicant lepers, cripples, the deranged, deformed and blind were required to station themselves. Each took up a post from which he delivered his laments; some sang, some coughed, others uttered ululations of pain. The deranged foamed at the mouth and hurled abuse at the passersby, in whatever style he found most effective. The noise from this quarter could be heard over the whole of the common, creating counterpoint to the music of pipers, fiddlers and bellringers.
Carfilhiot and Rughalt walked here and there, seeking the booth from which Triptomologius sold his essences. Rughalt, uttering low moans of frustration, pointed out heavy purses easily to be taken, were it not for his debilities. Carfilhiot halted to admire a team of two-headed black horses, of great size and strength which had drawn a wagon upon the common. In front of the wagon a boy played merry tunes on the pipes, while a pretty blonde girl stood by a table directing the antics of four cats which danced to the tunes: prancing and kicking, bowing and turning, twitching their tails in time to the music.
The boy finished his tune and put aside the pipes; on a platform in front of the wagon stepped a tall spare young-seeming man, with a droll face and sand-colored hair. He wore a black mantle displaying Druidic symbols, a tall black hat with fifty-two small silver bells around the brim. Facing the throng he raised his arms for attention. The girl jumped up to the platform. She was dressed as a boy in white ankle-boots, tight trousers of blue velvet, a dark blue jacket with golden frogs on the front. She spoke:
"Friends! I introduce to you that remarkable master of the healing arts, Doctor Fidelius!"
She jumped to the ground and Dr. Fidelius addressed the throng.
"Ladies and Sirs: We all know affliction of one sort or another—the pox, or boils, or hallucinations. Let me state at the outset, my powers are limited. I cure goiter and worm, costive impaction, stricture and bloat. I soothe the itch; I heal the scabies. Especially I mourn the anguish of cracking and creaking knees. Only one who suffers the complaint can know its' trouble!"
As Dr. Fidelius spoke, the girl moved about the crowd selling ointments and tonics from a tray. Dr. Fidelius displayed a chart.
"Observe this drawing. It represents the human knee. When injured, as at the blow of an iron bar, the kneecap recedes; the joint becomes a toggle; the leg rasps back and forth like a cricket's wing, with clicks and cracking sounds."
Rughalt was profoundly stirred. "My knees might serve as models for his discourse!" he told Carfilhiot.
"Amazing," said Carfilhiot.
Rughalt held up his hand. "Let us listen."
Doctor Fidelius spoke on. "The affliction has its remedy!" He picked up a small clay pot and held it on high. "I have here an ointment of Egyptian source. It penetrates directly into the joint and strengthens as it relieves. The ligaments recover their tone.
Persons creep into my laboratory on crutches and stride out renewed. Why suffer this debilitation when relief can be almost immediate? The ointment is valuable, at a silver florin per jar, but it is cheap when one considers its effects. The ointment, incidentally, carries my personal guarantee."
Rughalt listened with fascinated attention. "I must surely put the ointment to a test.'"
"Come along," said Carfilhiot curtly. "The man is a charlatan.
Don't waste time and money on such foolishness."
"I have nothing better to waste it on," retorted Rughalt with sudden spirit. "Were my legs once more nimble I would have money to spare'."
Carfilhiot looked askance toward Dr. Fidelius. "Somewhere I have seen that man."
"Bah!" growled Rughalt. "It is not you who suffers the pangs; you can afford skepticism. I must grasp at every straw! Hey there, Dr.
Fidelius! My kneecaps answer your description! Can you bring me relief?"
Dr. Fidelius called out: "Sir, come forward! Even from this distance I diagnose a typical condition. It is known as 'Roofer's Knee,' or sometimes 'Robber's Knee,' since it often comes from the impact of the knee against roof-tiles. Please step over here, so that I may examine your leg with care. I can almost guarantee your surcease in a very short time. Are you a roofer, sir?"